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novaursa · 3 months ago

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The Flames We Hide

- Summary: You were returning from Dragonpit with your sister, Rhaenyra, when you saw Harwin. And you both have a silent agreement: to size another moment together, no matter how brief or fleeting.

- Paring: targ!reader/Harwin Strong

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is younger twin sister of Rhaenyra, is bonded to a dragon and has strong resemblance to her grandmother Alyssa. These events happen right after The Secret Flame. Visit my blog for more works like this. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 4 622

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The sky burns in shades of amber and rose as the sun dips toward the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the world beneath you. The winds tug at your silver-gold hair, whipping it back in wild tangles as you soar high above the lands on the broad wings of Silixia. The she-dragon’s powerful muscles ripple beneath you, every beat of her wings a steady rhythm that reverberates through your entire body. You lean forward, your hands gripping the familiar curve of Silixia’s neck, feeling the warmth of her scales beneath your gloves.

Beside you, your sister Rhaenyra rides atop Syrax, her golden dragon a flash of lightning against the fading daylight. The two of you are a matched pair, always in tandem, even in flight. The court speaks of your bond with wonder and envy—twins in blood, daughters of the king, yet so very different. Rhaenyra’s laughter echoes through the air, mingling with the shriek of Syrax, a sound full of reckless joy and the heady thrill of freedom. Your own smile curves across your lips, a rare expression these days, as you push Silixia to fly faster, challenging Rhaenyra in your unspoken competition.

For a moment, you’re not Y/N Targaryen, princess of the realm, but simply a girl with her sister, free of the burdens and expectations that weigh on you daily. Up here, in the skies, you are boundless.

But it’s a fleeting escape, as you both know.

The winds whistle in your ears as you descend toward the Dragonpit, the ancient stone structure looming in the distance. Even from here, you see the specks of the Dragonkeepers, rushing to prepare for your arrival. The world below draws closer with each passing second, and with it, the return to the pressures of the court—pressures neither you nor Rhaenyra wish to face. You steal a glance at your sister, noticing the tightness around her eyes, the way her jaw clenches as she too begins the descent.

Marriage proposals. The word alone feels like a chain around your neck, heavy and unyielding. They’ve plagued you both since you were of age—foolish lords and ambitious knights seeking to claim your hand, thinking they might wield the power of the Iron Throne through you. Your father, King Viserys, listens to the lords’ suggestions with increasing frequency, entertaining every potential match, though none ever seem to stick.

Rhaenyra once joked that the king might have betrothed you to half the realm by now if he could make up his mind. The most recent farce was a suggestion of a Blackwood heir, a boy barely out of his swaddling clothes. It had made you laugh, a rare and bitter sound, but the truth was, these discussions grated on you both.

As your dragons land in unison with an earth-shaking thud before the Dragonpit, the ground trembles beneath their weight. Silixia growls low in her throat, molten-gold eyes flashing as she looks toward the Dragonkeepers with wary interest. You run a gloved hand down her brass scales, murmuring soft words of reassurance as she snorts, sending a gust of warm breath that rustles your skirts.

“Sometimes I wish we could stay up there forever,” Rhaenyra says, her voice edged with the same melancholy that grips your heart. She dismounts Syrax with fluid grace, her gaze drifting skyward as if she could will the sun to stand still and delay the inevitable return to the Red Keep. You understand her sentiment all too well; in the skies, the concerns of land-bound mortals feel distant, insignificant.

You slide down from Silixia’s side, boots crunching against the gravel. “At least up there, no one’s shoving marriage contracts in our faces,” you reply, your tone carrying more bite than you intend. Silixia’s tail flicks, brushing against your side in a gesture of comfort, and you smile at her affectionately. “Father may claim he’s thinking of what’s best for us, but it feels more like he’s trying to sell us off.”

Rhaenyra’s expression darkens, her violet eyes narrowing. “He doesn’t see it that way,” she mutters, her voice laced with frustration. “To him, it’s our duty—marrying to secure alliances, continuing the Targaryen line. But it’s never about us, is it?”

The Dragonkeepers approach cautiously, guiding Silixia and Syrax toward their lairs. The great doors creak open, and the smell of straw, smoke, and dragon flesh fills the air. Silixia reluctantly allows herself to be led, casting one last, longing glance at you before disappearing into the darkness. You feel a pang in your chest as she’s taken away, though you know she’ll be safe.

“No, it isn’t,” you agree softly, turning to face Rhaenyra as the last rays of the sun cast your shadows long against the stone. “But Father isn’t the only one who decides our fate, Rhaenyra. If we let them all dictate our lives, we’ll never have a say in our own stories.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see the same fire in them that burns within you—a desire to break free, to carve your own path. “We’ll have to make our own way then, won’t we?” she says, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You and I, together.”

“Together,” you echo, determination strengthening your voice. Whatever the realm or the lords conspire, you and Rhaenyra would not be mere pawns. The blood of the dragon flows through your veins, and dragons do not bend to the whims of others.

As the sun passes fully beneath the horizon, the golden light fading into twilight, you know that this brief escape is over. The court awaits, and with it, the endless schemes and proposals, but you’ll face them with your sister by your side. And perhaps, if the gods are kind, there might be a way to chart your own destiny, one that doesn’t leave you chained by the expectations of others.

With one last glance at the sky, you turn toward the path leading back to the Red Keep, your sister falling into step beside you. The night is full of uncertainties, but as long as you have each other, you’ll find a way to burn bright and free.

The council chamber is filled with the low murmur of voices and the sound of parchment being unrolled as the small council convenes. The sun filters through the high windows, casting shadows across the dark wood of the table where the lords of Westeros sit, advising the king. At the head of the table, King Viserys I sits with an air of distracted authority, his mind clearly elsewhere, but nonetheless prepared to endure another round of discussions on the matters of the realm.

Lord Lyonel Strong, seated at his place on the council, finds it difficult to focus. His thoughts are a tangled web, caught between duty to his house and the growing concern for his eldest son, Harwin. For weeks now, Harwin’s unexpected confession has haunted Lyonel. Harwin’s words replay in his mind over and over: “Father, I am in love with her.”

Lyonel had always known Harwin to be a man of quiet strength, with a loyalty that ran as deep as any river, but he had not expected this. It was not the confession of love itself that troubled Lyonel—though it was a complicated and dangerous emotion where a Targaryen princess was concerned—but the implications. If word reached the king that Harwin had grown too close to Y/N, it could spell disaster for House Strong, and worse, for the princess herself. The realm would not take kindly to whispers of such intimacy, especially in the shadow of Rhaenyra’s own contentious situation.

He suppresses a sigh as the discussion turns, the lords now speaking of the princess Y/N and her betrothal. Viserys’ brow furrows slightly as Lord Otto Hightower speaks up, his voice as oily and insidious as ever.

“The matter of Princess Y/N’s marriage cannot be delayed much longer, Your Grace. The Blackwood heir remains a favorable option—an ancient and noble house, strong ties in the Riverlands…” Otto’s voice trails off as he glances around the table, his eyes sharp and calculating.

Viserys looks tired, the mention of yet another marriage proposal clearly grating on him. “The Blackwood boy is still a child,” the king mutters, almost to himself. “Barely a year old. I do not see how a match like that benefits Y/N.”

Lyonel’s grip tightens on the arms of his chair. Harwin had been crushed when the proposal first came to light, unable to mask his anger at the idea of Y/N being married off to someone so unsuitable. Lyonel had known better than to comment on it then, but now, as the subject resurfaces, a plan begins to form in his mind. It is a risky maneuver, one that could backfire spectacularly, but it is the only chance he sees to protect both his son and the princess.

The discussion drags on, but Lyonel barely hears it, his thoughts focused on what he will say to the king when the others leave. When the meeting finally concludes, and the lords begin to gather their things, Lyonel remains seated, waiting for the others to clear out. Viserys notices and raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Lord Lyonel,” Viserys says, his voice expectant. “It seems you have something on your mind.”

“Your Grace, if I might have a word in private,” Lyonel replies carefully, rising from his chair with a slight bow. Viserys gestures for the guards to leave the chamber, and soon the room is quiet, save for the crackling of the hearth.

“What troubles you?” Viserys asks, leaning back in his seat with a weary expression. “It is rare for you to seek private counsel with me.”

Lyonel’s heart pounds in his chest, but he keeps his face composed, as he has always done. “It is a matter regarding Princess Y/N, Your Grace. And her marriage.”

Viserys sits up a little straighter, his weariness giving way to curiosity. “Go on.”

“I understand that there has been much discussion of potential matches, including the recent talk of a Blackwood heir. I would not presume to question the wisdom of your council, but I believe there is another path that has not yet been fully considered—one that could ensure both the stability of the realm and the happiness of your daughter.”

Viserys frowns slightly, his eyes narrowing. “And what match might that be, Lord Lyonel?”

Lyonel chooses his words with the utmost care. “My son, Ser Harwin, has always been loyal to the crown, a man of proven strength and honor. I believe he could be a fitting match for Princess Y/N.”

Viserys’ surprise is evident in the way his eyebrows shoot up. “Harwin Strong?” The king’s tone is one of genuine shock. “I had not considered such a proposal from you, Lyonel. You’ve never once sought advancement for your house in this manner. Why now?”

Lyonel forces himself to hold the king’s gaze. “Because I believe this match would benefit not only my house but your daughter as well. Harwin’s affection for her is sincere, Your Grace. He would be devoted to her in both heart and duty. And the crown would gain a staunch ally in the Riverlands through House Strong.”

Viserys leans back in his chair, his eyes distant as he considers the proposal. “It is unexpected,” he admits. “But sincere affection, as you say, is not often found in such matters. Still, I must consider the optics. The princess… she is a Targaryen, and such a match would raise eyebrows. Harwin is a good man, but he does not hold the power or prestige of some of the other houses being proposed.”

Lyonel nods, expecting this reaction. “True, Your Grace. But there is strength in loyalty and love. Harwin would never see the princess used or diminished by court politics. He would protect her fiercely, as he has always protected those he cares for. Surely, a match built on genuine regard would lead to a more harmonious union than one based solely on titles.”

Viserys remains silent for a long moment, his fingers drumming on the table as he contemplates the idea. “You make a compelling case, Lyonel,” he says at last, his tone softer now, as if genuinely pondering the possibility. “But this is not a decision I will take lightly. I will consider it, but there are other matters to weigh as well.”

Lyonel bows his head in acknowledgment, sensing that he has planted the seed he needed to. “Of course, Your Grace. I only ask that you weigh it with care. The princess’s happiness—and the stability of the realm—must be our highest priority.”

Viserys nods, though his expression remains conflicted. “You are dismissed, Lyonel. I will think on what you’ve said.”

As Lyonel takes his leave, he feels the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. He knows he has taken a bold risk, one that could either secure a brighter future for his son and the princess—or doom them both if it fails. But for now, all he can do is wait and hope that Viserys’s heart leans toward the idea of love and loyalty over ambition and politics.

The door closes softly behind him, and the chamber is left in silence, with only the faint crackle of the fire echoing in the room.

The streets of King’s Landing are alive with the usual noise and bustle of the city as dusk settles over the capital. The gold cloaks of the City Watch patrol every corner, their eyes sharp for trouble. Ser Harwin Strong rides at the head of a small detachment, his gaze roving over the streets with practiced vigilance. His armor gleams in the fading light, and his presence alone is enough to command respect from the men under his command.

Yet, beneath the exterior of duty, Harwin’s thoughts are elsewhere. He cannot shake the weight of his father’s concerns, the quiet warnings Lyonel had shared after Harwin’s confession. There are dangers in being so close to the princess, but the heart is a stubborn thing, and his heart belongs wholly to Y/N. Her laughter, her fierce spirit, the fire in her violet eyes—they haunt him in moments when he should be focused.

As his patrol rounds the corner near the Dragonpit, his attention sharpens when he sees a group approaching. The distinctive white cloaks of the Kingsguard stand out against the shadowy backdrop of the city. Harwin immediately recognizes the figures being escorted—Princess Rhaenyra and her twin sister, Y/N, mounted on fine steeds and surrounded by the armored knights sworn to protect them. The sight of Y/N sends a jolt through him, a mix of yearning and concern.

Their eyes meet, and in that brief moment, a silent understanding passes between them. There’s no need for words; they know each other too well. Y/N gives the faintest nod, and Harwin feels his pulse quicken. Whatever it is she’s planning, he’s already committed to playing his part.

Suddenly, Y/N sways in her saddle, her hand fluttering to her forehead as if struck by a sudden dizziness. The Kingsguard immediately take notice, and Ser Harrold Westerling, ever vigilant, urges his horse closer. “Princess, are you unwell?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

Y/N’s voice is faint, but convincing. “I feel… light-headed. Perhaps the strain of the flight has caught up with me.” She sways again for emphasis, and Harwin spurs his horse forward, concern etched into his features.

“Ser Harrold, allow me to assist the princess,” Harwin says, his tone urgent yet respectful. He moves his horse beside Y/N’s, ready to catch her should she falter further. “I’ll take her to the Red Keep myself, where she can be seen to immediately.”

Ser Harrold’s eyes narrow, suspicion flickering in their depths. “That will not be necessary, Ser Harwin. The princess will be escorted by me and my men directly to the Keep. We are under strict orders from the king.”

Harwin’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his expression neutral. “I understand, Ser Harrold, but I’ve known the princess since she was a child. Let me ensure her safety, as I would see to my own kin. I can bring her swiftly and with care.”

Before Ser Harrold can respond, Rhaenyra rides forward, her eyes gleaming with barely concealed mischief as she catches on to her sister’s ploy. “Ser Harrold, it is clear that Y/N is in distress, and she would be more comfortable with someone familiar. Ser Harwin has always been a trusted protector of our family.” She tilts her head slightly, letting a hint of command slip into her tone. “Surely, you would not deny my sister the comfort she needs when it is readily available?”

Ser Harrold glances between the two princesses, clearly torn. On one hand, his duty is unwavering; on the other, Rhaenyra’s argument is persuasive, and there’s little cause to suspect foul play. He knows better than to openly contradict a royal daughter, especially one as willful as Rhaenyra. After a long, tense moment, he relents, though his reluctance is obvious.

“Very well, Ser Harwin,” Ser Harrold says, his voice tinged with resignation. “But know that I’ll hold you to your word that the princess reaches the Keep unharmed and without delay. The king will hear of this if she does not.”

“On my honor,” Harwin replies, dipping his head with a solemn expression, though a flicker of relief and triumph gleams in his eyes.

With that, Rhaenyra flashes a sly grin at her sister and spurs her horse onward, leaving Y/N and Harwin behind. “I’ll see you at the Keep, sister,” she says, her voice lilting with amusement. “Do take care on your way.” She gives Ser Harrold and the other Kingsguard a pointed look, leading them on toward the Keep as they follow her.

Once they’re out of earshot, Y/N lets out a small breath of relief, her feigned dizziness evaporating as she steadies herself in the saddle. Harwin watches her closely, a hint of admiration in his gaze.

“Quite the performance,” he murmurs, guiding his horse closer to hers as they begin to ride slowly, side by side, through the quieter streets. “I almost believed you were truly unwell.”

Y/N’s lips curve into a playful smile. “I thought it convincing enough. It’s not every day a princess needs rescuing, after all.” But the teasing lilt in her voice is softened by the warmth in her eyes as she meets his gaze. “Thank you for playing along, Harwin.”

“For you? Always,” Harwin replies, his voice low and sincere. He reaches out, his fingers briefly brushing against hers in a gesture that is both subtle and intimate, hidden from prying eyes in the fading light. “But tell me, what is it you needed from me that required such theatrics?”

Y/N’s expression turns more serious as she considers her words. “I needed a moment away from all the expectations, away from the endless talks of marriage and duty. And more importantly… I needed a moment with you.” The weight of her admission hangs between them, unspoken but understood.

Harwin’s breath hitches slightly, his heart tightening at her words. He has always known this dance between them is a dangerous one, but it is one he cannot resist. “Every time I see you surrounded by those guards, by the chains of duty that bind you, it makes me wish things were different,” he says softly, his voice full of yearning. “I wish I could be more than just a protector.”

Y/N turns in her saddle, her gaze locking onto his. “You are more, Harwin. You know you are.”

For a moment, the world shrinks to just the two of them—the city, the court, all of it fades away. But reality cannot be ignored forever, and the path to the Red Keep looms ahead. They both know this brief interlude is all they can afford, but the unspoken promises between them are enough for now.

As they approach the gates, Harwin reluctantly pulls his hand away and straightens in his saddle, resuming the role of dutiful knight. “I’ll see you safely back to your chambers, Princess,” he says formally, though the glint in his eyes tells her everything he cannot say aloud.

“Until the next escape, Ser Harwin,” she replies with a soft smile, a hidden message beneath the words.

With that, they continue toward the Keep, knowing that while their paths may be dictated by duty and expectation, there are still moments they can carve out for themselves—stolen glances, hidden touches, and unspoken vows that bind them closer than any formal oath could.

The vast halls of the Red Keep are quieter than usual as the day gives way to the cool embrace of evening. The golden light from the torches flickers on the stone walls, casting long shadows that dance and twist in the dim corridors. As Harwin escorts you back to your chambers, you can feel the weight of the day slowly lifting, replaced by the familiar tension that simmers between you and him. It’s a tension that has grown with each stolen glance, each brief touch hidden from prying eyes.

As you approach the throne room, Ser Harrold Westerling stands at the entrance, his white cloak billowing slightly as he catches sight of you. His eyes shift briefly to Harwin, a silent acknowledgment in his expression. Though his face remains stern, there’s a flicker of understanding—a silent nod that tells Harwin he has done his duty and that the princess has been safely returned.

“Ser Harwin,” Harrold says in a gruff voice as the two pass by him. He doesn’t need to say more. The message is clear: this is where their paths diverge, but he’ll trust Harwin to see the princess the rest of the way. Harwin dips his head respectfully in return, but his focus remains on you as you make your way deeper into the Keep.

The royal quarters are just ahead, but Harwin notices something in your expression—a spark in your eyes and the faintest curve of a smile on your lips. He knows that look all too well, the one that signals you’re about to do something reckless, something entirely unplanned. Before he can even ask what you’re plotting, you move with a sudden swiftness, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward a shadowed alcove. Your fingers grip his with a sense of urgency and mischief.

“Y/N, what—” he starts, but you silence him with a playful look, your eyes gleaming with a secretive promise.

You drag him behind a heavy tapestry, revealing a hidden doorway that he hadn’t noticed before. The stone creaks as you push it open, leading into a small, dimly lit chamber tucked away from the prying eyes of the court. The air inside is thick with dust, as if it hasn’t been disturbed in years. Harwin’s breath catches in his throat as he realizes where you’ve brought him—a place so private that it feels as if it belongs only to the two of you.

The moment the door closes behind you, the pretense falls away, leaving only the truth of your feelings. The tension that has been building throughout the day snaps, and you close the distance between you in an instant. Your lips crash against his, the kiss fierce and full of the passion that you both have been forced to suppress. Harwin responds without hesitation, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer until there is nothing between you but the heat of your bodies.

It’s a dance you both know well by now—his lips mapping the familiar curve of your neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging as his kisses trail down to your collarbone. There’s a hunger in his touch, tempered by a tenderness that only you bring out in him. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he kisses you again, slower this time, savoring every second. You press closer, your hands slipping beneath the leather of his armor, finding the hard planes of his chest beneath. The feel of his heartbeat, strong and steady, thrums beneath your palm, grounding you in this moment.

“Every time I think of you marrying another,” Harwin murmurs against your lips, his voice a low, desperate whisper, “it drives me mad. The thought of losing you… I don’t know how I’d bear it.”

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes searching his as you trace a line down the side of his face. “You won’t lose me,” you breathe, your words laced with quiet determination. “Not now. Not ever. I belong to no one but myself—and to you, if the gods are kind.”

Harwin’s grip tightens on your waist, a flash of fierce emotion in his eyes. “I want more than stolen moments, more than secret chambers and whispers in the dark,” he confesses, his voice thick with longing. “I want to be with you openly, without fear or restraint.”

“I want that too,” you reply, your voice trembling with sincerity. “But until then, until we find a way… we have this.” Your hand trails down to his chest, your fingers pressing against the rhythm of his heartbeat, as if to mark it as your own.

His lips find yours again, softer this time, a kiss that speaks of unspoken vows and promises that only the two of you understand. His hand slides down your back, memorizing every curve, every dip, as if committing it to memory for the nights when you can’t be together. Your own touch mirrors his, tracing the line of his jaw, the strength in his shoulders, and the warmth that radiates from his skin. Every touch, every kiss is laced with the knowledge that this cannot last—at least not now.

As much as it pains you both, there’s no time to linger. The world beyond this hidden chamber is waiting, and you both know that others will soon seek you out. Harwin pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath, hearts racing as you savor the closeness one last time.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” you whisper, your fingers brushing against his lips.

“So do I,” Harwin murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow. “But we’ll find more moments like this. I promise you.”

You smile softly, the sadness in your eyes giving way to a glimmer of hope. “Until then… we’ll make the most of what we have.”

Reluctantly, you both disentangle, fixing your clothes and smoothing out your appearances to mask any signs of your secret rendezvous. Harwin’s hand lingers on yours as you step back into the corridor, the hidden door sliding closed behind you. The tapestry falls back into place, and it’s as if nothing ever happened—just another cold stone wall in the labyrinth of the Red Keep.

But as you make your way back to your chambers, Harwin’s gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes holding yours for a heartbeat longer. There’s a silent agreement between you, one that needs no words—this isn’t the end, just another chapter in a story that’s far from over.

With one last glance over your shoulder, you offer him a small, secret smile—the same one you gave him earlier, full of the promise of more unpredictable escapes, more stolen kisses, and the hope that one day, these moments won’t have to be stolen at all. Harwin watches you disappear into the shadows of the royal quarters, the ache in his chest both a comfort and a torment as he turns away, returning to his duties, but with the warmth of your touch still lingering on his skin.

#house of the dragon #hotd harwin #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd #harwin x reader #ser harwin #harwin breakbones #harwin strong #harwin x y/n #harwin x you

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dark-and-kawaii · 4 months ago

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˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱‧₊˚ A Paladin & His Princess ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱‧₊˚

Notes: I wanted to share a small story I worked on for Zevlor & Lofn that involved her dragons. I really hope you all enjoy this as much as I do ♡

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ Paring: Zevlor x Lofn/F!Tav

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ Content: Comfort - A Sweet Reveal - Romance - Love

There had always been rumors since Zevlor was a child that had always whispered about Thay's & Cormyr’s rulers keeping ancient dragons by their side. He was always in awe when he heard the tales, but seeing them in the flesh was another matter entirely. He was told that the last dragon sighting was in Baldur's Gate many years ago, a distant memory now. Yet, here they were standing before him, a daily marvel that still took his breath away.

Aetherion, a massive dragon whose scales resembled amethyst, laid beside Lofn. Beside them both was Vyrmoth, slightly younger but no less imposing, with a golden brass body like a worn gold coin and scales with an iridescence hue. The scene was one of serene beauty and raw power.

As he approached Lofn and her two dragons, her back turned towards him, Vyrmoth's piercing eyes tracked his movements, the dragon's maw opening revealing teeth bigger than the tielfing, and a tongue capable of crushing a man. A warning no less should he try anything.

Lofn, however, remained focused on Aetherion, her small frame pressed against the dragon's face as she rested against him. Zevlor moved cautiously, his steps slow, not wanting to disturb the delicate balance she maintained.

When he finally reached her, he paused, hands clasped behind his back, watching his beloved lover, his princess, in silence. Watching as her hands gently massage and caress the beast's scales, the creature sounding as if it was purring as he leans into her touch as she speaks in ancient tongue. Her long lilac hair and pale complexion against Aetherion made quite the sight, something Zevlor wouldn’t mind admiring for hours. She was truly something, the way she handled the dragons- so gentle and sweet. So kind. The contrast between the formidable dragon and her soft, delicate body made Zevlor feel something in his stomach, his chest- his heart. It made him smile as he continued to watch. He felt honored that she had let him stay at her side, allowed him to watch her do such things with these ancient, powerful creatures…

“Give me your hand,” Lofn said suddenly, not even turning to look at her love.

He blinked, a little startled. She hadn't turned around and yet she still knew he was there, watching. He smiled, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he brought a hand from behind his back, holding it out to her. He watched as her free hand moved from the dragon and grasped his, tugging him closer and closer until finally she placed his hand upon Aetherion, her hand still over his as she guided his fingers across the rough scales. Aetherion's eye opened again and looked over the two, his eyes half lidded and a low rumble emitted from the dragon as Zevlor was pressed against the side of the creature.

“Feel him,” Lofn whispered, leaning back into her gorgeous beast, her hand never leaving his, “feel him breathe, listen to the rhythm of his heart…”

Zevlor let his eyes close, focusing on Aetherion’s breathing, the steady beat of his heart, the way the dragon rumbled beneath their hands. The way Aetherion leaned into their touch, and how Lofn’s hand felt on his own…

“They feel what I feel,”

Zevlor could feel the warmth of Lofn as she moved closer, his eyes opening as she placed a hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her, “they know that you are a part of me,” Her hand slid from his cheek, down his arm until she moved his hand to her still flat stomach, her own hand pressing his against her body, “that you are the reason I wake in the morning, and the last thought on my mind before I sleep...”

Zevlor's eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping him as the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. His hand trembled slightly against Lofn's stomach, feeling the warmth and the life growing within her. “I- Truly!?” he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper. The shock was evident in his eyes, “you are with child?”

Lofn's eyes sparkled with unshed tears, her cheeks dusted with a gorgeous pink hue. She nodded, her smile so wide it seemed to light up the entire realm. A small, joyous laugh escaping her lips, “Yes, truly.”

As her laugh escaped her lips, the sound so pure, so sweet, so beautiful that it was almost deafening. He thought he’d be alone, that he'd never be given the honor of starting a family with the love of his life, a woman so beautiful and powerful and amazing that she was practically a goddess in his eyes. And yet, here she was, the one who held his heart in her hands, his soul tied to hers and hers alone.

She was pregnant with his child… she was- she was carrying a piece of him, a piece of her. He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely registered his own laughter, his hand still pressed to her stomach. The next thing he knew, his arms were around Lofn, pulling her tight to his body and burying his face into her hair, her scent intoxicating.

His people abandoned him, rightfully so. His city had fallen, his oath as a paladin broken for the longest time. But her? She took him in, accepted him. Allowed him to call her his queen, his princess, his lover, his wife. She made him feel whole again. He was truly blessed by the gods to have her, his light, his hope.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Aetherion lifted his massive head and let out a quiet roar, a sound that echoed through the ancient land of Thay. The dragon understanding, his emotions mirroring those of his beloved princess and rider.

Zevlor’s eyes were closed, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he held onto his love, the dragon and their child. His family. He would protect them, cherish them. He would never let anything happen to them.

Vyrmoth, though still cautious of Zevlor, let out a soft coo and moved forward. His large body coming to lay around the couple, his snout resting beside Aetherion's. Their rumbles shook the ground around them, a sound most would fear- a sound that still made Zevlor weary, yet right now it soothed him, made him relax into his princess' hold.

It was at that moment, he realized he didn’t just have a family.

He had a home. A home that was with her.

#˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱‧₊˚ 𝓛𝓸𝓯𝓷 & 𝓩𝓮𝓿𝓵𝓸𝓻 ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱‧₊˚#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x tav #Lofn Cormyr Thay

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kheprriverse · 1 year ago

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Look familiar? Bounty Hunter and magic user turned Deity, Ko'jin. Later dubbed as the "Fierce Deity."

Other outfits are a wip. I was gonna wait until they were done but couldn't resist sharing what I was working on for a week.

Masterpost | Lineup | Ko-fi - More info under the cut! This one’s gonna be a pretty long one and the last half below will have the text on the image (coz tumblr’s probably gonna eat the quality) plus some notes sprinkled in.

Plus a look at the Moon Serpent, a common form Ko'jin takes. I'd like to think the Moon Serpent is more commonly known by his followers than the man himself. There are others he takes, like the Silver Wolf, but the dragon is the one most associated with him.

He's relatively unknown after the war before Skyloft's ascent, his image having been completely removed from history. The few traces of him by OOT/MM would be oral tradition, specifically through family members as bedtime stories and legends to tell. Stories about a curious serpent and a powerful artifact.

After the events of MM, the Moon Serpent becomes active again and the festivals dedicated to it return.

Text on the image + extra notes:

Ko’jin, Bounty hunter chosen by Goddess Farore.

“Ko’jin” is not his real name. Once a mortal becomes a god, they abandon their original name. He was never given a proper one again aside from nicknames by worshippers and other deities. Ko’jin is a nickname given to him by his future wife when they first met.

He wears facepaint which is mixed with magic to bolster strength and speed. And later he would get tattoos that did the same [seen later].

Before becoming a god he was a bounty hunter [and popular at that, often being the favorite of a neighboring town]. He would take commission to hunt down monsters many others refused to go near.

Ko’jin has a strong affinity for magic [he uses it practically every day] and often imbues the edges of his sword with darkness magic. Though, the element given to his sword can still vary depending on what or who he’s fighting.

His undersuit and white tunic are much more protective than the brass chainmail, which instead is used more for artistic liberty than function.

“Early Days Moon Serpent”

Ko’jin’s god form was often a dragon for the ease of guiding lost spirits to the afterlife [he’s a judgement god with a very strong connection to the dead and guiding those spirits became his secondary function].

[During the first war with Demise] Soldiers often saw this form as the “Spirit of Courage” and their protector. They worshipped him and gave him gifts in hopes that he’d watch over him [and guide them to a better afterlife if they were to fall in battle (that secondary function). He basically became a huge symbol for soldiers specifically and I feel like this would feed the “War God” title he was given way later on despite not actually being a War God.]

In many ancient artifacts [ones that could be found at least], the Moon Serpent would be as either a two-headed serpent or two separate beings with their horns crossed. [There’s going to be a lot of “two’s” with him. Two swords, two lives, etc. in depictions of him the two heads/bodies of the serpent would be called “the Body” and “the Spirit”. Later on he’s split into two to be sealed away in a similar theme. “Two lives” refers to the before and after his sealing as he loses his memory of his “past life” and becomes a new person (hence a different appearance). I can see Hylia having foresaw a lot of this tbh.]

#legend of zelda #legend of zelda au #loz #loz au #majora's mask #Fierce Diety #fierce deity/fd/terminus #Ko'jin (Kheprriverse)#Moon Serpent (Kheprriverse)#sorry thus is a rEALLY long post. i have a lot to say about this man #originally i wasnt gonna go into his backstory at all. maybe a little bit about the war?#but ultimately decided that maaaaaaaaybe we can look a little into him for a bit #i have reasons why i didnt go with ‘Kishin’ as a name. sorry manga readers #also a peak @ termina’s language? its still a wip tho #ignore my extremely jumbled thoughts #i’ll reblog with closeups in a minute #Kheprriart

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hami-gua · 8 months ago

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收下的香囊 Shōu Xià de Xiāng Náng

In ancient China, girls would give friends and love interests 香囊（a sachet). If the love interest accepts, then he accepts to be her significant other. Proposal is a different case though, as it’ll be very costly for the man :)

Warning: Chinese is used (translation provided), not proofread, attempt on classification of things (i.e. a tree), a lot of culture drops, a few historical inaccuracies, anxiety (maybe near panic attack)

The story takes place in a Han dynasty-esque period (not really)

Dan Heng x gn! Reader (third pov)

Please read to the end for credits and explanations

A warm glow emitted through the paper window at the dead of night. There a figure sat, weaving a needle between the silk fabric. Silken thread of teal jade** wrap around the woven fabric, drawing out the form of a teal jade dragon flying between mountains and amongst clouds. When the figure was done embroidering the body, they finished off the stitch and swapped the thread out for one of pure gold. This has to be perfect.

The next day, the figure leaves their room, opting to head down to the pavilion overlooking the koi pond. Maids hurriedly followed suit, carrying whatever the figure desired. And when they made it to the pavilion at last, the figure wasted no time and sat down — beginning their work immediately. They pulled out their work, already been strung on the loom and began stitching again. A gentle pink thread weaved this time, shaping out peach blossoms. A soft breeze passes through, swaying the liusu tree** a bit a way. I don’t have much time left. The figure thought, I only have a three days before I depart for the capital. I’m sure he’ll be there.

The figure worked well into the afternoon until their friend had come along bringing snacks to feast upon. She brought something to work on too, as it was customary for the two to do so.

“你今儿怎么这么不安呢？你这个香囊不是做了很久了吗？这已经看的很完美了，为何还要再加呢?” [Why are you so restless today? Isn’t this the sachet you’ve been working on for so long? It already looks perfect, why do you still want to add more?]

“前面是完美的。但后面的必须得要跟前面一样完美。” [The front is perfect. But the back needs to be as perfect as the front.]

“这么拼命啊。是要送给谁啊？等等，让我猜猜！是不是。。。丹王子**？” [You really are giving it your all. Who are you going to gift it to? Wait, let me guess! Is it… Prince Dan (Heng)?]

The figure looked up at their friend in shock, having never told her despite working on the sachet for a while.

“三月。。。你是怎么。。。” [March… how did you…] The figure trailed off, their whole face starting to heat up.

“这不简单嘛。我上次来看你的时候，你绣的那个图案是个青龙。咱俩之间知道的青龙不是丹王子的话，那还会是谁啊？“ [It’s simple. The last time I came to see you, the pattern you embroidered was a teal dragon. If the teal dragon isn’t Prince Dan (Heng) as we know it, then who else could it be?]

The figure looked at the work in their hands and remained silent as March stared at them. A period of silence held between them until the figure spoke, “Do you think he’ll accept it?”

“I don’t see why he’ll reject it.”

The figure sighs, a thumb running over the even stitches softly.

“He’s so aloof. I don’t know if he likes me or tolerates me to not…”

“To not…?”

“To not ruin his image.”

Rustling was all the figure heard before a pair of hands enclosed around theirs. They look up to see March looking at them with a smile.

“It’s okay. You go along with what you planned, and if he breaks your heart, I’ll go beat him up. Princely title or not. No one’s allowed to hurt you.”

Reassurance began to settle in within the figure’s heart and a smile quickly followed.

“Thanks March.”

A day has since passed, the figure having finished their sachet before bed. The brass wind chime sang as they left their room, dressed thicker than usual. They still felt rather cold underneath layers, and the see-through silk did nothing to warm them. The figure tucked their hands in their sleeves while hurrying towards the carriage, the clicks of their muji** echoing through the courtyard. They nearly trip over themselves upon crossing the threshold as a gale races by. It’s times like these where the figure is thankful for choosing to apply beeswax** on their hair. A maid carefully helps the figure into the carriage, getting on after them. Right as they disappear behind the curtains, the carriage takes off for the capital.

Along the way, unease began to fester within the figure’s heart, unsure if Dan Heng will accept their sachet. They tried to calm themselves down, yet to no avail. When one worry is eased, another blooms. What if I’m too late and he’s already taken? The figure sighed.

“What’s wrong my liege?” The maid asked.

The figure shook their head and solemnly replied, “Nothing.”

The longer the ride became, the more nauseous the figure grew. Negative thoughts plagued their mind, many scenarios of them ending up heartbroken. Suddenly, the carriage feels more stuffy than usual. Yet at the same time, a cold feeling rushes down their body. As if reading their mind, the maid drew back the curtain for fresh air and comforted the figure.

“It’s okay my liege. His highness won’t reject you. I know it.”

“How?”

“Well it’s been quite the talk amongst us maids. Especially since your last meeting with him. We all saw how he looks at you.”

“What do you mean look at me? Isn’t he suppose to see?”

The maid giggled, “Not that kind. I mean yes, he is suppose to see. But I’m talking about those kinds. You know, the ones where a person yearns for the other?”

The figure is left confused. Never had they ever seen the look where one yearns for the other. Yet somehow, her words had left the figure feeling better.

The figure’s legs were weak by the time they descended the carriage. Their maid held an arm, helping and guiding them through the street as they sought out a familiar face. And soon enough, they found him standing right in front shop. Upon approaching him, the figure could tell he’s been focused on staring at the neatly shaped rice papers — trying to choose between the different quality of paper. With their right hand on top and left on bottom the figure bowed** — mustered up courage and spoke, “Greetings, Dan Heng.”

His gazed snapped from the paper and onto the figure. A miniscule smile is seen, as he does the same: Left on top, right on bottom.

“Greetings.” he paused, observing the figure. “Are you well?”

Their hand clutched the sachet tightly — trying to remain composed, “Yes,” a deep breath, “I have something to give you.”

Dan Heng’s eyebrows raised at this. Something to give him? Him, of all people? The figure pulls out the sachet from their sleeves and with both hands, hands it to Dan Heng. He looks at it for a brief period and with two hands, accepts the sachet. And upon having it in his possession, he unravels the strings then loops it through his silk belt. The figure watched with wide eyes as the butterflies dissipate, leaving behind only warmth. Dan Heng looks up to see the figure, now his beloved, standing there meekly.

“从认识你的时候，我一直都没见过这样的你。原本活泼的你现在变害羞了。哎呀，你怎么会这么可爱呢？” [Since meeting you, I have never seen you like this before. The lively person you were, have now turned shy. Oh, why are you so cute?] He softly teased.

Upon hearing his comment, his beloved’s face started flaring — resulting them to hide behind their sleeve as they averted their gaze. Dan Heng giggled as his hand rose to lower their arms and cup the side of the face. They looked up at him as he brushed his thumb across their cheek. His hand lowered only to take a hold onto their hand, intertwining it. With a gentled tug, he led her deeper into the market, leading the couple to spend the rest of the day wandering from stand to stand with fleeting affection.

When their gaze met Dan Heng’s, they understood what those around them were saying. Dan Heng isn’t one to display emotions freely, yet his actions speaks louder than words. And his eyes — his eyes will always be the first to say how he’s feeling.

We’ve all heard of method actors, and now get ready for method writers. No seriously though (TMI) I gave myself anxiety all because I was writing about MC getting anxious. What MC goes through is actually how my anxiety goes which is why I bring snacks or sour candy to hold down nausea. So I’m sorry that it sounds rushed. It doesn’t help that I bilingual too hard to the point that when even as I’m typing, my brain is just going “oonga boonga”. Anyways, here’s the cultural explanations and credits.

Teal jade is a literally a combo I made up. I’m under the assumption that Hoyo never truly confirmed if Dan Heng actually is 青龙。I know 青 translates to green, but in actuality, the green that is referred looks a little more blueish. Teal isn’t exactly it, but jade isn’t either. It’s very complicated to explain as it’s a color that isn’t really popular in the west. Think of the color this way, under certain lighting (and sometimes angle) the green will look more teal-ish. almost looking blue. Other times, it’ll have a more light jade color. I can’t remember the very ceramic style that uses this sort of “green”.

Liusu tree [流苏树] scientifically named Chionanthus retusus, is a tree with flowers that makes the tree look like it has lots of snow on it.

王子 means prince. Initially I had wanted to use 公子. But knowing how Xianzhou alliance had only allied with Vidyaharas, it only makes sense (in my brain at least) to have him be a prince. Not a king though, cuz that means they would have to meet and travel under different circumstances.

The use of muji 木屐 (commonly called ‘clogs’) can be dated as far back as pre Qin dynasty (Yellow emperor’s rule). It comes in many styles, very similar to how modern day slides look. Another style is one that is similar to geta. It remained popular until about the end of Song dynasty. Clogs are mostly worn in the south where there’s lots of rain and mud. Xishi is said of have worn clogs due to her insecurity of having big feet — so when she walked the skirt hid the clogs, but the clogs are still able to produce rhythms (think how catchy those rhythms must be).

Beeswax was used in ancient China as a way to hold back hair and to keep away fly-aways. Think of it as mousse or gel for ancient civilization.

Different dynasties had different ways of greeting each other. Though one thing remains roughly the same. Women (in this case feminine leaning) would have right hand on top, and left on bottom. Men are vice versa. The only time when it’s swapped are times like funerals. Although MC is gn, Dan Heng is masculine — thus to balance that out, MC would have to have a more feminine personality.

As for bowing, this depends on class. Kneeling or ketou 磕头 would not be done with (han-majority ethnic group) towards someone that aren’t parents. Of course, these are base rules as circumstances also apply — but it’s a good thing to note.

I wish I can attach links that I got these from, but I had obtained these info from the span of 2-3 years :’(. So if anyone finds these, feel free to link it so others who are interested can take a peak.

Divider Credits

All dividers used came from animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #honkai star rail dan heng #hsr dan heng #dan heng x y/n #dan heng fluff #dan heng x you

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youweitrade · 3 months ago

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"The Sea-Calming Needle" 定海神针 is an idiom originating from the ancient Chinese mythological story "Journey to the West." In this tale, Sun Wukong (the Monkey King) acquires the Sea-Calming Needle, a precious weapon belonging to the East Sea Dragon King Ao Guang. Weighing seventy-two thousand five hundred kilograms, this needle can be freely adjusted in size and weight. Originally used for stabilizing the waters of the East Sea, Sun Wukong later took it to transform it into his iconic weapon, the JINGU Bang.

This product is made of brass, with a gold-plated surface, 72cm in length, 0.95 kg=2.09 lb=33.51oz. We recommend placing it in a dry place. Usually, you only need to wipe the dust with cotton. No special maintenance is required. Do not use acid-containing cleaners or salt water to wipe it, which will cause corrosion to the surface of the copper craft product.

#wukong #journey to the west #tang sanzang #monkey king #jttw sun wukong #tripitaka #black myth wukong #lmk wukong #lego monkie kid sun wukong

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qqueenofhades · 1 year ago

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just saw your offer for book recs and would love some fantasy/sci fi books, it seems like we have similar taste. i just finished nk jemisin's broken earth trilogy, and also loved the city we became by her.

Aha, I am at work right now and thus do not have my bookshelves at hand to make sure I'm not missing something blindly obvious. However, I will start you off with these:

The Rook and Rose trilogy by M.A. Carrick (The Mask of Mirrors, The Liar's Knot, Labyrinth's Heart). Yes, this is the series I have been screaming about nonstop for the past few weeks and thus craftily suckering unsuspecting passersby into reading. An AMAZING world, an OT3 who own my entire ass, lots of political intrigue, cultural and social commentary, a unique magic system, and also plenty of humor. It really has it all. I continue my one-man quest to make this fandom bigger. Ahem.

The Green Bone trilogy by Fonda Lee (Jade City, Jade War, Jade Legacy). Another fantastic fantasy series that NEEDS more readers. Inspired by Chinese/Hong Kong kung-fu movies, set in a gritty modern universe, kind of like the Godfather but with magical jade-wielding families. Tons of discussion of empire, culture, violence, appropriation, power, war, family, Asian identity, more. They're likewise nice and long to keep you busy.

The Daevabad trilogy by S.A. Chakraborty (The City of Brass, The Kingdom of Copper, The Empire of Gold). Another you-gotta-read-this trilogy (yes, I have many of them). Set in the 18th-century Middle East and the magical djinni kingdom of Daevabad. Politics, empire, religion, history, intrigue, magic, scheming families, ancient wars, and my most beloved, Muntadhir al-Qahtani. What is not to love.

The Priory of the Orange Tree and its standalone prequel, A Day of Fallen Night, by Samantha Shannon. Absolute doorstopper (800+ pages apiece) epic-with-dragons-and-medieval-worlds fantasy, like Game of Thrones if Game of Thrones was a) good b) gay c) feminist and d) had people of color. She is also the author of the Bone Season series (four books thus far) which is a unique blend of futuristic sci-fi and fantasy set in an alternate totalitarian London and a ruined Oxford.

Winter's Orbit and Ocean's Echo by Everina Maxwell. Two M/M space opera romances (set in the same universe, but can be read independently). She got her start as a fanfic writer and it shows; these are both delightful, plotty, funny, and full of sassy gay disaster homosexuals in space.

A Memory Called Empire and A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine (I have read the first one, need to read the second one). Historian of medieval Byzantium writes space opera set in Space Constantinople which is also Space Tenochtitlan. Explores language, history, memory, power, identity, assimilation, and more, and is also very funny.

Autonomous, The Future of Another Timeline, and The Terraformers by Annalee Newitz. High-concept social-commentary dystopian science fiction; of the three, Terraformers (the newest one) might be my favorite. They're not related so you can read them in whatever order.

Two books that I have not read yet but I really want to: Swim Home to the Vanished by Brendan Shay Basham and To Shape a Dragon's Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose. Both are fantasy novels by Native American authors; Basham's is magical realism and Blackgoose's is about a Native American dragon-rider facing assimilation at an English (Anglish) boarding school.

Likewise coming soon and I am excited: The Jinn-Bot of Shantiport by Samit Basu. Middle Eastern-inspired fantasy, cyberpunk, techno-magic. In space!

There are definitely more that I will get home and be like oh wait yeah. But this should get you started.

#sinistershit #ask #book recs

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witch-undercover-agency · 1 year ago

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Origin: Greek Mythology

Symbol: The Ram

Quality: Cardinal

Element: Fire

Colour: Red, Blood Red, Midnight Black, Armor Silver

Metal: Iron, Steel, Bronze, Brass, Copper, Silver, Gold, Lead, Mercury

Crystal: Bloodstone, Red Jasper, Carnelian, Red Agate, Hematite, Black Obsidian, Pyrite, Garnet, Ruby, Red Tiger's Eye, Red Calcite, Mahogany Obsidian, Red Aventurine, Fire Agate

Fruits: Cherries, pomegranates, strawberries, raspberries, red apples, watermelon, passionfruit, dragonfruit, cranberries, guava, tomato, fig, plum, apricot, red currants, currants

Vegetables: Red bell peppers, chili peppers, beets, radishes, tomatoes, carrots, red cabbage, red onions, red potatoes, red kale, red Swiss chard, red lettuce, red spinach, red mustard greens, red beans

Flower: Tulip, poppy, red rose, hollyhock, anemone, amaryllis, geranium, carnation, sweet pea, marigold, hibiscus, dahlia, daisy, gladiolus, ranunculus, red camellia

Herb: Basil, cayenne pepper, ginger, garlic, nettle, thistle, coriander, lemongrass, mustard, pink peppercorn, wormwood, vervain, calendula, rue, dragon's blood resin

Animal: Ram, wolf, hawk, eagle, shark, badger, lynx, vulture, crocodile, warthog, scorpion, bull, cobra, panther, hyena

Number: 1

Day: Tuesday

Season: Spring

Time of day: Sunrise

Anatomy: Head, face, eyes, muscles

Key word: Courage

Key phrase: "I am a warrior of the spirit."

Moon phase: Full Moon

Musical note: D

Tarot: The Emperor

Tool: Spear

Spell type: Protection

Offerings:Red wine or blood-red wine to symbolize vitality and bravery.

Freshly sharpened weapons or replicas as a symbol of warfare.

Spicy foods, as Ares was associated with the heat of battle.

Olive oil, a symbol of peace and victory.

Red roses or other red flowers to represent passion and strength.

Frankincense incense to purify and honor the deity.

Ares figurines or statues for his representation.

Honey, as it was believed to be an offering to appease the gods.

Pomegranates, a symbol of fertility and life force.

Bay leaves, which were associated with victory in ancient Greece.

Offerings of meat, such as lamb or goat, to represent strength.

Myrrh resin, often used in ancient rituals and associated with deities.

Red candles to invoke the fiery aspect of Ares.

A spearhead or other warrior-related artifacts.

A prayer or poem expressing your admiration and respect for Ares.

Signs:A sudden surge of courage or confidence when facing challenges.

Dreams or visions of battle or warlike scenes.

Finding or receiving gifts related to warfare, such as a weapon or armor.

Seeing red objects or colors more frequently, as red is often associated with Ares.

Feeling a strong connection to historical or mythological warriors and heroes.

Increased interest in martial arts, combat sports, or military history.

Hearing or encountering stories, songs, or poems related to war and valor.

A feeling of inner strength and determination during tough times.

Noticing signs of conflict resolution or justice happening around you.

Repeated encounters with symbols of Ares, such as his name or imagery.

Birds of prey, like hawks or eagles, appearing more frequently in your vicinity.

Feeling a call to stand up for a just cause or protect those in need.

A strong desire to learn about ancient Greek culture and mythology.

A sense of honor and duty becoming more prominent in your life.

Meeting individuals who share a similar interest in Ares or warrior-like qualities.

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grigori77 · 16 days ago

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Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 113

A five hour episode? Oh yeah, that means it's gonna be a serious one. I'm already nervous ...

What the hell is this? Oh dear gods this is bizarre ... Sam, you are a strange one ... okay, I'm sorry, watching Robbie through this bit is SO WILD ... his expressions are always so priceless ... and suddenly it's all like THIS ... weird shit ... that one was ... just ODD ...

Critmas music? Interesting ...Sam: "SOME of us can sing!" Yeah ...

"Secrets in your boxers?" Please, I never have to hear that line uttered ever again. Like EVER. Please ...

So we're still in the company of Vox Machina? Okay, then ... wonder if this might be their very final adventure together? It worries me, knowing what they're going up against ...

Meanwhile Scanlan has to let his current crew down easy ... wait ... YOU DID WHAT, Scanlan? O.O Samuel Tiegle, DO NOT do that to us ... we know this gnome is a little bit of a wrong-un, but he's never been THAT wrong ...

"Keg"? Oh, so we're introducing a character JUST to send them off? Interesting ... yeah, I figured Grog would probably like Kent ... wow, this bunch are just a bunch of frat boys, ain't they?

Who gave Sam coconut shells? Ye gods ...

Good point ... IS THIS the new Scanlan Shorthalt? Is he staying like this? Would it be easier for him to change back, or is there time for him to change back?

Now we're having a conversation about Scanlan pooping. I love these people so much ... XD

He has ZERO Dexterity? Hmmmm ... maybe we should rethink this after all ...

Grog can make him some horse boots? Oh, that sounds like fun ...

Yes. Time to go. Going through a tree, then. Back to Vasselheim. This is getting to be a second home for them now, isn't it?

Checking in for the night, then. Okay ...

Catching up, then? Oh, Keyleth and Percy ... I mean, yeah, these two have been together the longest, haven't they? The best of besties, I've missed this ... but yeah, also ... very heartfelt, of course ... they do need this ...

I love how Percy calls Keyleth "an investment in their children's future" ... that could sound a bit weird coming from anybody else. With these two it's just CUTE ... :3

Trinket? Oh, okay ... WHICH one is this? Is it the original? Oh my gods IT IS ... O.O ... poor ancient bear ...

Ah ... yes ... the Vax situation ...

Only Vex could wish ill on the Matron and actually GET AWAY with it ... XD

Awwwww ... sweet old bear cuddle-buddy ... I imagine he's quite stinky, but it's still sweet ...

Oh my gods ... is Scanlan trying for a booty call? With GROG asleep in the room? This could be interesting ... oh, okay ... wow, yeah, she's just LETTING HIM HAVE IT, isn't she? Don't go easy on him, Pike! He doesn't deserve it!

Meat Man Imports & Sexports ... snort ... LOL

He's being relegated to AN EXTRA BED?!!! Oh my ...

Grog pretending to sleep fools NOBODY. I love it.

Boy, that is an AWKWARD sleeping arrangement for a centaur, clearly ...

Wow, Cerkonos is kind of a secret Scanlan superfan, that's hilarious. "the Scanman"? Oh my fucking gods ... LOL

Early morning arrives ... okay ...

Travis just rolled a lethal death roll for Chetney! O.O But he's GROG right now ... does it count? Somewhere on Ruidus Chetney just felt a chill run down his spine like somebody walked over his grave, I swear ...

The various preparations of the arrayed forces, getting ready for the day ahead ... hmmmmmmmm ...

Nice, so the Pale Guard are basically like Sharp's Rifles? That's pretty cool, I can't deny ...

A summons for Kiki? Okay, then ...

Massive brass-scaled dragon? Oh yeah, awesome ...

The Stratos Throne? Really? That's a big deal ... O.O ... AND Aeshanandoor? Don't those guys HATE each other right now? Interesting they're playing nice for the effort ...

Oh yeah, EVERYBODY'S here right now ... it's a big deal all right ...

Lieve'tel? Oh ... OH, a guest? OH OKAY!!! LIam's back! So THIS is who he's playing ...

Nice ... so we got a real badass super-goth elven dominatrix type helping them out in this one, then? Nice ... yeah, this is a great one for Liam to play, definitely ...

So she already knows Bertrand's gone? Yeah, okay ...

Yeah, so please be aware I haven't had a chance to get round to The Search For Grog or The Search For Bob yet, so I'm NOT familiar with this particular character ... but she seems REALLY COOL ...

Wow ... yeah, she's just REALLY INTENSE, isn't she? Like I said, I'm really liking her already ...

Judicators? Oh, okay then ... nice to have them on OUR SIDE for once ...

Ophera? Cool ... yeah, she's really cool too ... and THIS is a very neat trick, too ... yeah, she's definitely a whole lot better at big entrances than Keyleth ...

Celestials? SERIOUSLY?!!! Holy fuck! O.O Oh yeah, this is just ALL the big guns right now!

Oh okay ... Keyleth's turn to make a fancy speech? Hmmmm ... PLEASE roll good for this delivery, Marisha ... Matthew, you are NOT doing anything for our girl's confidence right now ... oh yes, nice going, Vex ... that's JUST what she needs right now ...

Yeah ... okay, that's a strong start already ... yes. YES. Nice. That's it. Be a woman for the people. And ... "FUCK SHIT UP!!!" Oh boy ... XD ... yeah, that's more like it ... THAT'S our girl. :3

A single raven? Oh my gods ...

Inspirational Leader? Nice ... oh yeah, that is REALLY nice! Way to go, Kiki!

Nice to have a broomstick handy for running speedy errands ...

And now it's a massive SILVER dragon ... okay ... O.O

Allura! Yay! Always nice to see her! :3

Oh, so they're going in via skyship? Cool. I wonder which one THEY'RE gonna ride in on? What are the chances, hmmm? Or might that be a little TOO on the nose?

Well yeah, I mean Grog would've been FINE with just jumping headfirst into a crazy suicide attack like that, but ...

Yeah, probably best to leave Trinket behind for this one ...

Speak With Animals! Yay! Awwwwww ... and OF COURSE he still wants to go with her ... he's so sweet ... and yeah, he's still tough, of course he is ... all right, let the ancient bear come ...

Thank fuck Sam isn't ACTUALLY drinking out of that horrific looking thing, that is UNSIGHTLY!!! Travis: "It's like melted plastic mixed with decay!" Sweet fuck that is NIGHTMARE FUEL ... Sam: "I mean it's been cleaned, like, A LOT, but it hasn't worked!"

"Battlestar season 3"? Okay ... yeah, so they're all just going STRAIGHT INTO that shit, then ... so a retroactive Heroes' Feast is probably a good idea, then ... yeah ...

Wow ... yeah ... D&D maths ... always fun ...

Oh ... so Cerkonos LIKES Lieve'tel? Okay, then ... so no matter what, Robbie's just DETERMINED to romance Liam's characters, clearly ... XD

Fucking hell ... Grog has around THREE HUNDRED HIT POINTS right now? O.O Sweet fuck ...

Archivist Seth Domade? Okay, then ... yeah, this just got interesting ... I mean OF COURSE he's curious about what's happening with the Nein AND the Hells ... oh yeah, our boy is FLUSTERED right now ... Essek, be cool right now, boy ...

Holy shit ... HOW LONG did it take them to realise that this is Essek in disguise? DEAR FUCKING GODS, people! LOL You do know you spent TWO WHOLE SESSIONS traveling with this guy ...

Verin Thelyss? Oh, interesting ... are they related? THEY ARE?!!! So this is Essek's BROTHER? Intriguing ...

Oh, so he's a little bit of a geek? I like that. That's quite adorable. And I think he might be a little sweet on Vex ...

Ah, poetry... yeah ... LOL

Allura informs us the Nein and the Hells are now IN POSITION on Ruidus ... okay, then ... time to make a move, then ...

Matt: "The symbol of war has been triggered." Oh my ...

Fuck ... PLEASE let Percy and Vex get back alive to their kids.

The hoof boots? And somehow Travis rolls a 24 on his performance for their construction ... holy shit ... apparently they're completely PERFECT ... O.O

More Percy and Keyleth cuteness ... :3

Power Word Fortify ... and Death Ward? Lieve'tel bestows MASSIVE magical gifts upon Kiki and Vex ... and then she just goes RIGHT AHEAD and makes the first move on Cerkonos. Awwwwwww ... and he HAS to make it awkward. But she likes it ... XD

I fucking knew it ... OF COURSE they're riding with Xandis. LOL ... I love this ridiculous tiefling so much, I swear ...

So ... a fuckton of arcane portals, then ... this is it ...

"Majestic as fuck" ... Grog's awesome cape ... in his own words, of course ... XD

Awwwwwww ... Bertrand, we miss you still, you fantastic old bugger ...

So ... through into clustered shadow ... all right, what have you got in store for us, Matthew? O.O

Oh okay, that's a dramatic mess we're flying into ... and that's it, the first shots come in ... yup, that's it, it's all kicking off ...

Strength saves all round? Okay, first real rolls of the night! Roll good, guys! 33? Holy fuck, Grog ... he's stupid strong even now ...

Three crooked winged creatures coming out of the sky? Oh boy ... FUCK Vex is still a thoroughly EVIL shot ... Hunter's Mark that shit, girl! Yeah!

So Scanlan and Grog are the most prominent targets? SHIT ... I mean OF COURSE Grog succeeds his strength check, but Scanlan is now being CARRIED OFF by one of these things! Shit! O.O

Percy: "Drop the horse!" And yeah, No Mercy's still just as lethal a shot as the Missus ... BOOM!!! And the centaur is free once more ...

Path To the Grave? Fuck, Lieve'tel is a bit SCARY in combat ...

Kiki tries a Whirlwind attack on them ... yup, that proves impressively effective ... fuck, that thing just got PUMMELLED ... right into Grog's reach ... he swings his Bloodaxe TWICE ... and just SHREDS the beastie ...Oh yeah, that's TOTALLY the HDYWTDT ... fucking hell, he just EVISCERATES this thing ...

Oh yeah! Silver Dragon for the WIN!!! Nice one ...

Keyleth tries to take a look over the side and just gets BLINDED by flying dust ... yup, that's a bout right ...

Ah, so ... still a way to go, yet ...

Shit! DODGE!!! QUICK!!!

Well that was close ... and sounds like it could've been SERIOUSLY HAIRY if it had hit ... and then we see it hit another ship ... and it just NEUTRALISED the brumestone? FUCK!!! That's SO FUCKING BAD!!! Yeah, don't let ANY of THAT shit hit you, guys!

Air Ashari FLY!!! Oh, and Cerkonos can do that too? Oh, he can do ALL the elelments like Kiki? Sweet! So he's going too, then ... go help! Quick! Save who you can!

Yes! Save Verin Thelyss! Quick!

Oh nice! That's some SEXY FLYING there, Vex!

Okay, looks like this might be working ... and SOMEHOW they BARELY miss taking another hit ... get them off as fast as you can, guys!

Inspire THEM, not HIM! Pronouns, Scanlan! And somehow Sam makes a really embarrassing (and very classic Shorthalt piece of work) strangely inspiring for Xandis ...

Yeah, that's some pretty sweet flying, you spectacular tiefling!

Wow ... that was just a BEAUTIFUL save ... yeah, they got 'em off safe, just in time ... meanwhile the faling ship goes down SPECTACULARLY ...

Time to get ready to JUMP? All right, then ... GO!!!

Blessing of the Dawnfather? Oh, that's pretty sexy too ... I didn't even know Vex had that one in her! O.O

Thank fuck for Featherfall ...

Grog and Pike are getting SHOT AT?!!! Fuck ... O.O ... Word of Radiance? Yeah, that's a nice save, Lieve'tel! JUST too late, but still ... so Pike manages to dodge, but Grog takes a full-on HIT ... crap ... but he's Raging, so it's not TOO BAD ... but that's STILL a whole lot of Force damage even so ... and that's one ROUGH FUCKING LANDING ...

Oh, so it's already ALL GOING OFF in this place? Okay then ...

Cerkonos shows he's as much of a badass as the others as he comes down ... and yeah, that poor bastard is impaled and INCINERATED ... meanwhile our boy achieves a perfect superhero landing ...

Wait ... so the gunner is LITERALLY PONDERING THEIR ORB?!!! XD

No Mercy Percy strikes again!

Touchdown, then! They're on the ground and taking in what's going on now ... oh yeah, this is just pure fucking CHAOS right now ... the batle is just full-on KICKING OFF ... and THIS is where Matt chooses to call a break ...

Holy shit ... that is a MASSIVE Battlemap this time round ... yeah, the appreciative gasps and roars as they wander mback in to take it in are duly ENTHUSIASTIC, and rightly so ...

Setting up where everybody is ... and it's all just pure CHAOS right now, clearly ...

Oh, so now Keyleth's a FIRE elemental? Matt scrambles to acquire ANOTHER figure to represent her ...

So it's time, then. ROLL INITIATIVE!!!

Vex kicks it all off, then ... she casts a 4th Level Hail of Thorns, with her Blazing Bowstring and Sharpshooter ... wow ... that's a monster combination if ever I heard one ... so she goes for a Reiloran Juggernaut! Nice ... fuck, that's a lot of damage, plus it definitely rings his bell for him ... meanwhile all the regular guys surrounding him are just ANNIHILATED ... ouch ... so she takes ANOTHER shot ... oh yeah, she is SUPREMELY fucking this guy up ...

Scanlan clops up on his coconuts and Inspires Cerkonos ... with a bit of Chappell Roan? Nice ... :3 ... Reverse Gravity? Oh, that's DEVIOUS ... Out of the whole group only ONE manages to make a save so now there's a whole bunch of guys just FLOATING UP INTO THE SKY!!! Holy shit ...

Wow, those Kryn fighters are just BADASS, they're cutting folk TFU ...

Percy steps over the wall and encounters his first Reiloran ... oh, that's nice, so his walking stick turned into a brutal little MURDER BATON ... he shakes off the attempt to fry his brains with psychic energy and slashes them up ... it's hurt, but it's TOUGH, looks like this one's going to take some work ... oh, but his sword has A GUN IN IT ... Matt: "Go go gadget Pepperbox!" POW!!! Now the Reiloran is BURNING!!!

Grog charges up to the guy who's trying to hang on ... and manages to get HIMSELF caught in the spell? Shit! Somehow he manages to catch hold of himself, at least ... and takes a few big hacks at the other guy ... Great Weapon Master? Oh boy, here we go ... oh yeah, Grog kills the guy ON THE SPOT and then he just pinwheels up into the air spraying his insides all over as he goes! Ye gods! O.O

Keyleth jumps from one platform to the next, starts laying about with her fists, the burning Reiloran instantly incinerating under her pummelling onslaught! Oof ... then she runs off in the direction they need to go, setting another attacker on fire as they try to strike at her while she goes.

Lieve'tel summons a Planar Ally, specifically a massive white three-headed raven (literally Holy fuck!), then Tolls the Dead, aiming for the Juggernaut ... and that's a wrap on the big guy! HIs head essentially EXPLODES inside his helmet ... fucking hell ... so she just goes riding off on her big birdy, going to hover over Keyleth.

Oh great ... Scanlan is now being SWARMED by Slithers ... O.O ... oh yeah, they're just GNAWING on him right now! Fuck ... thankfully only TWO of them do any actual damage, but still ...

Crap ... what's this? Oh, I get it, that mut be one of those hive-mind psychic mothers ...

Meanwhile those poor bastards spinning in the air just CONTINUE to spin in the air ... XD ... crap ... now Keyleth is as well, unfortunately ...

Pike chucks a 5th Level Guiding Bolt at the Ball ... okay, this is it, then ... 22 points of damage? Hmmmm ... it CRACKS, but it's still definitely very INTACT ... nuts ...

Cerkonos screams: "Scanman! NOOOOOOO!!!" leaps into the air and casts Wall of Fire around Scanlan, torching the Slithers attacking him. Three of them are reduced to cinders, and the rest are at least SEVERELY charred ... then he just BAMFS next to Pike ...

Vex takes a shot at the Ball, using Sharpshooter ... NAT20!!! Yes! Crit that bitch! Oh, that's a whole lot more cracks in it now ... but she's just got herself directly MARKED by whatever that force is overlooking it ... but her SECOND shot SHATTERS the Ball on the spot! YESSSSSSS!!!

Scanlan casts Thunderwave as 2nd Level, trying to bash some of the Slithers off ... he turns two of them into jelly on the spot! Meanwhile he drops his spell ... and everybody up in the air too! Grog manages to avoid getting crushed, while all but two of them just go SPLAT when they hit the ground around him. Meanwhile Scanlan disengages, trying to use Cutting Words to get rid of the remaining Slither still grappling him ... and breaks free! Phew ...

Fucking hell ... what fresh hell is THIS?!!! O.O ... a battle vidulch? Oh my gods that is fucking TERRIFYING!!! Oh shit, TWO OF 'EM?!!! Shit! They start laying about and IMMEDIATELY start doing major damage to friends and foes alike ...

Shit ... in a single turn, the attacking vidulch manages to COMPLETELY DESTROY Keyleth's Fire Elemental form ... O.O

Percy opens fire with Animus on some of the Vanguard, only for his gun to blow up in his hands! Ouch ... repairing iton the spot, he starts firing again, wiping out one in the process.

Grog uses his Boots (not BOOBS) of Feral Leaping to mount the nearst vidulch, then starts swinging blows into it with his axe ... oh yeah, he's just CHOPPING CHUNKS out of this thing! It's trying to shake him off but he's definitely cutting his way into it already.

Oh no, bad ideas are never REALLY bad ideas ... Keyleth attempts to Dominate the vidulch in front of her? Holy fuck ... O.O ... that's the question, IS IT a beast or is it a MONSTER? She can't tell ... so she tries a Firestorm instead! Oh boy ... whoa, SEVEN D10 of Fire damage? Holy shit ... 48 Fire damage? Wow ... it hurts the vidulch, as well as incinerating a bunch of Reilora and Vanguard. Unfortunately she also takes out three Kryn soldiers with friendly fire ... oof ... then she transforms into an Earth Elemental and burrows down under the ground, coming up on the other side of the vidulch.

DEVILS? Seriously? Is this good or bad? Wait ... who's this ... holy fuck is that OPAL?!!! Fucking hell, my girl you're terrifying but also pretty awesome right now! She doesn't do any real damage, but she's still laying into the vidulch with some serious SAVAGERY!!!

Lieve'tel holds onto a Bless, waiting for her opportunity, aiming for Opal, Keyleth and herself.

Okay, now Grog is having a scrap with the Juggenaut on the back of the vidulch ... unbelievable! Oh hell, this big boy is definitely laying into him HARD right now ... and it has a Telekinetic Combo? Shit ... Grog hangs on, but it definitely batters him about ... so he just starts giving right back just as hard as he's taken ...

Pike chucks a Guiding Bolt at the vidulch at 4th Level, blasting it hard with a good chunk of Radiant damage. Staying put, she's immediately swarmed by a bunch of nasties, but she just batters them all off ...

Cerkonos, impressed by Scanlan's actions, turns himself into a Fire Elemental and funnels himself INTO THE ARMOUR of the nearer vidulch, setting it on fire FROM THE INSIDE!!! Holy shit!

Vex coasts over and starts peppering Pike's attacker with her arrows, wiping him out on the spot. Then she turns round and starts taking potshots at the vidulch, taking some of its legs out from under it.

Scanlan rushes up to the aid of the nearest angel, talling them: "I'm here to help!" before VOMITING Lightning at the nearer vidulch! O.O

Brass wings? Oh sweet! Here they come! Beautiful! Devossa strafes the devil and the vidulch with their fire, but since they're both immune to fire it does ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ... hmmmmm ... somewhat inticlimactic ...

Grog takes a big swing at the Juggernaut and just ANNIHILATES the fucker on the spot! Then he leaps off and goes for the Reiloran instead, using Great Weapon Master ... oh yeah, here we go ... yeah, he just SPLITS THE GUY IN HALF!!! He yanks out the spine from the bisected corpse as he walks away ...

Oh, okay ... yeah, due to retrospective thinking, Grog also manages to finish off the vidulch just before he jumps off ... okay, yeah, there we go, then! Meanwhile Scanlan congratulates CERKONOS for doing it? Hmmmm ...

Keyleth Calls Lightning at 4th Level, landing it right into the remaining vidulch ... oooh, dice math ... 27 points of Lightning damage ... yeah, it's looking pretty messy now ...

Okay, looks like everybody's just trying to kill this thing all together ... meanwhile more Vanguard are arriving! Shit ...

Oh, so Pike just got rescued by a demon? That must be weird for her ... especially when it growls: "Go, small god!" at her ...

Yeah, Opal just becomes TERRIFYING as she jumps on the vidulch, webs it up and then CARVES IT TO PIECES ... O.O ... holy shit ...

Time to book, then? Okay ... they all bundle together and rush into the centre of the fortress, heading for the Malleus Key ... and that's it for the night! Yeah, that's a good place to stop. I was getting pretty exhaunsted, that was a HEAVY SESSION ... but also a very satisfying one ...

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thevikingwoman · 9 months ago

Text

Saw a post on Finish your WIPs February and I was not going to do any of that, except Solas and Iwyn insisted. It was fun writing them again.

Originally started in 2021, for a kinky bingo prompt of "infidelity", here's Solas and Iwyn enjoying some art, and each other - acting on their attraction to each other after Iwyn's husband leaves.

Fandom: Dragon Age | Words: 4114 | Read on Ao3

Iwyn Lavellan x Solas | Modern AU | smut Rating: Explicit. Infidelity, smut, fluff, angst, Iwyn is lonely, her husband is a bit boring, Solas is lonely too, nothing new here though, oral, piv sex, safe sex, casual relationship

Casual Fun

There is a surprising amount of rich, beautiful people at the museum. Solas knows many donors are more interested in getting their name in the brochures – or even better, in brass on the entrance pillar –but they still attend events to mingle and make sure everyone else knows they are there.

It’s still more crowded than he anticipated. The foyer is busy, a string quartet plays, and the trays of canapes and sparkling wine are quickly refilled.

The patrons of the arts, all dressed up. It doesn’t matter why people are here – the museum is free Wednesdays and Sundays, and hands out scholarships to young artists and that matters. Solas doesn’t much care about making connections or socializing, but he does care that there is money for the arts, and this is why he donates himself, of course.

It’s the opening of the A. Brenhan exhibition – a renown Orzammar artist who rarely allows his works to be shown on the surface. Solas had hoped to see the collection relatively undisturbed, and initially the throng of people had dashed his hopes. When he makes his way to the special exhibit on the second floor, he realizes he was wrong. Very few people wander the exhibit. It seems everyone is more interested in the spectacle that is themselves.

He spends some time on the charcoal sketches. It’s mostly architecture. Forgotten Thaigs and empty corridors and old houses. The story behind them is more interesting than the sketches themselves.

Most people actively browsing the gallery are in pairs or small groups. Like himself, they might have a more serious interest in the art, or simply worry about missing out. While he appreciates the peace and quiet here, he does wish he had someone to discuss the art with.

Solas moves to the next part of the exhibit, what Brenhan is most known for. Oil paintings on large canvasses, larger than Solas is tall. The kind of work you hang in museums, or maybe in mansions of some of the very rich. No matter, the artist’s fame is well deserved. Most of the paintings feature Dwarven architecture, ancient and modern both, but above them an impossible sky. Brenhan is a traditionalist, and has never left Orzammar, and doesn’t truly know what the sky looks like. The effect is eerie and unsettling, and meant to be so.

“I can’t decide if I love it, hate it, or just find it odd.”

Solas is startled by the woman next to him. He’d not noticed her, or assumed she was part of the group that moved on.

“It’s captivating nonetheless,” he offers.

“I agree. It’s one of the more interesting exhibits recently.”

He turns to her, and she is captivating too. Her dress is a shimmery white, contrasting with her tan skin and red hair piled on top of her head. Diamonds drip from her pointed ears and her green eyes sparkle. As she moves, his eyes are drawn to the high slit in her dress and her tall heels.

He quickly looks back at her face, and she smirks at him.

“Do you often attend the openings?” he asks, and realizes this is almost as cliche as do you come here often? He wanted someone to talk to, and now he wants to sink into the floor.

“Most of them, if I can.” She smiles and holds out her hand. “I’m Iwyn.”

He takes it, and she gives a firm handshake.

“Solas.”

“So, Solas, are you familiar with Brenhan’s work?”

“Some. I have not seen such an extensive collection before. From what I understand it is the most comprehensive exhibition of his works. Outside Orzammar, of course.”

“Yes, I’ve heard so too. I did see some of his work in the Museum of Modern Art in Denerim, but it was only a few. I do find his work intriguing, and a lot more impressive in person.”

“It’s the scale of it. It doesn’t translate well to a catalogue.”

Iwyn agrees and they talk more about the paintings, moving from one room to the next in the exhibit. He learns that her interest in art is recent, and he has plenty of knowledge he can share with her. Her own insights are unique and interesting still, seeing the soul and emotion of the pictures without the baggage of art study. The conversation is invigorating and easy.

Sometime later, an elven man joins them. He’s a little shorter than Solas, with a square jaw and long dark hair gathered in a bun at his neck. He leans over and kisses Iwyn on the cheek.

“Hello, dear.”

“Solas, this is my husband Halier. Halier, Solas is an art enthusiast and he’s been sharing interesting thoughts on the exhibit.”

Solas heart drops in chest and he instinctively puts space between him and Iwyn. He’s enjoyed their conversation immensely, and working to steer the conversation away from the art and towards leaving for drinks. Like a fool, he’d ignored the large diamond ring on her finger. It went with her earrings and bracelet.

Halier grunts and thrusts out his hand, and Solas can do nothing else but take it.

“Solas. I’m sure I’ve seen you before – where do you work?”

“I’m a partner at Evanuris Wealth Management.”

“Of course. I must have seen your picture in your office. I’m a partner with Lavellan, Lavellan & Sabrae Law Firm.”

“Very nice.”

Solas isn’t here to discuss business. Most days, he doesn’t hate his job, or the family business, and he’s glad it allows him to support the arts like this, but he also doesn’t want it to consume his life. He isn’t here to discuss business.

“Are you done here?” Halier directs his question at Iwyn, but does not wait for her response. “I’d like to get out of here, I have that early flight tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t mind staying a bit longer. Take the car, I’ll grab a cab.” Iwyn fishes a valet ticket out of her clutch, and lightly kisses Halier’s cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

“I won’t. I have to be at the airport at 6am. Goodnight, dear.” He takes the ticket, and nods at Solas. “Solas, nice to meet you. We can discuss business at some other time, perhaps. Thank you for entertaining my wife.”

“A pleasure.”

Solas watches as Halier leaves, but his attention is soon back on Iwyn.

"My husband finds these things terribly boring,” she says. “We're donors, and he likes his name on something cultured along with the tax deduction, but that's it."

"And you don’t find these things boring?"

“I like the events, and the art. Especially with interesting company.”

He doesn’t know how to interpret that, with her sly smile and sparkling eyes and husband retreating down the stairs.

“The art is certainly better with good company.”

He closes a little of the space between them, and he wants her to forget her husband existed. Fuck.

“I’d love to look at the final part of the exhibit. Do you want to join me, Solas?”

She brushes past him, her fingers skimming his arm as she gestures towards the last room they have not explored. He’s no idea if it’s deliberate, but the heat of her sears him through his jacket.

They spend another thirty minutes, at least, taking in the final room. The art is interesting, but more and more he finds himself staring at Iwyn. She catches him, at one point, causing him to quickly avert his eyes and stumble over his words.

Iwyn puts a hand on his arm.

“How about getting some drinks? It seems you’ve lost interest in the art.”

“I’m looking at a different type of art, even more interesting and beautiful.”

It slips out before he can stop himself, but she just gives him a crooked smile.

“Let’s get out of there, Solas.”

Iwyn takes Solas to a nearby bar. There’s a risk someone would know her and her husband, of course, but she’s willing to take it. Halier already knows she was talking with him, and they’re just here to talk a little more. Maybe, she admits, she wants to more than talk. She likes his eyes on her, the intensity in them when he looks at her. She likes his voice, and the way he called her beautiful just earlier. Brazen and rebellious.

The bar is nice enough, a regular upscale bar matching the surrounding office buildings, galleries, art museum, restaurants, and symphony hall. She thinks it was featured recently in the nightlife section of the local newspaper, but she isn’t sure. Iwyn orders the featured drink, The Divine’s Night Off, with crystal grace infused gin, brown sugar syrup and Navarran orange liqueur. Solas orders a fruity pink grapefruit vodka concoction.

They make careful small talk, at first. About art, and the museum and the ballet (Solas is a fan, Iwyn isn’t) and other arts that the city offers. They carefully avoid talking about work or what Solas does for a living. It’s clear that his company and her husband’s do some business, and she doesn’t want to think about that.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you at the donor evenings before. We – I try to go to most of them.”

“I have been a donor for a while now, but the last two years I’ve been in Kirkwall. For work.”

Solas makes a face, and she grins. No one really likes Kirkwall, not even the people from there.

“Happy to be back in Wycome?”

“Most certainly. Kirkland is boring at best, and polluted and prejudiced at its worst. It is a relief to be back. Though I must say that I did not expect the event to be that enticing.”

His voice sends shivers down her spine.

“I’m very glad you’re here, Solas. It made my evening a lot more exciting so far.”

“So far?”

“It could become more exciting.”

“How so?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out.”

She’s bored and lonely most of the time, if she’s honest, and Solas offers something new and different. She wants his hands all over her. She wants to fuck him. There are many reasons she’s still married to Halier, but mediocre sex isn’t one of them. She never thought of meeting someone like this, flirting like this. The thrill of it is lightning in her veins, and the fact that Solas knows about her husband intensifies it.

Solas takes a sip of his drink, and traces the edge of his glass. His fingers are long and elegant.

“I would very much like to. Figure it out, I mean.”

She’s made up her mind, and she doesn’t want to wait anymore. Iwyn is out of her comfort zone, but there is something about Solas that draws her to him. She needs to know if he feels the same, and she’s no reason to hide her intentions.

“Sweet talker.”

“Iwyn, I…” He pauses, and looks serious. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Solas,” she says, as she reaches across the table and places her hand on top of his. “I know a hotel, nearby.”

“Yes,” he replies, to the question she didn’t ask.

They pay for their drinks and slip out into the cool night. It has rained while they were at the bar, the wet sidewalk reflecting the lights from the street. Boldly, Iwyn pulls Solas close and kisses him, soft and quick. He freezes, and she’s about to apologize when he pulls her close again and kisses her back. This time there is nothing soft or gentle about it.

“We should probably find that hotel,” she mumbles when they pull apart. As much as she wants to keep him close, she also wants him naked. Solas seems to agree, nodding and taking her hand. It’s only two blocks to the hotel, and they manage without too many stops for kisses. The entrance is well lit, gold handles in the glass doors.

She hesitates in the lobby, but only briefly. She is certain. Solas hand is at the small of her back, as if it belongs there. As if they’d checked into a hotel together a million times before.

“Can I help you?”

The human behind the counter looks very bored. It’s quite late, and the lobby is empty.

“We need a room for a night. We don’t have a reservation.”

Solas is close and she draws on the confidence in his presence. He wants to be here. She wants to be here. What they’re doing is no one else’s business.

“Sure.” The girl taps on her computer. “Nightly rate 399. Credit card and Id, please?”

“Let me,” Solas says smoothly, and she supposes he right. It’s not that she can’t pay, but it’s better it’s not her name. Some part of her doesn’t care, craves the danger of it. But she’s not quite ready to self-destruct her life.

Solas hands over his cards, and the girl dutifully enters his information into her system. She hands them two keycards. She looks too tired and underpaid to ask about their lack of luggage.

“Room 906, elevators are down and on your right. Checkout is at 11am tomorrow.”

Solas thanks her, hands Iwyn one card, and starts down the hallway. Iwyn grabs his hand.

“One moment.”

She heads to the hotel convenience store, determined and casual all at once. She looks at the little stand of toiletries – deodorants, cotton buds, razors.

“Do you have any condoms?”

The dwarf behind counter grunts, and pulls out a silver cardboard box from a cabinet behind the counter.

“19.99.”

She hands him her credit card, and puts the box in the purse when the transaction is complete. The dwarf grunts again, and fiddles with his phone.

Iwyn hurries after Solas, and puts her hand in his when she catches up.

They slip inside the room, and the door closes with a soft thud behind them. Iwyn pushes him against the wall, and catches his lips in an eager kiss. He slips his hand through the tall slit in her dress, caressing her skin, like he’d been wanting to all night. He kisses her neck, she gasps.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says. He pulls back and really looks at her. A thought occurs to him. “Does your husband know you’re here?”

He isn’t really certain why a beautiful woman wants with him, and her husband is certainly handsome enough. If he’s part of someone’s kink he’d like to know.

“No. Does that bother you?”

He shakes his head.

“Good.”

Iwyn walks to the bed, and drops her dress on the floor. It pools around her feet, leaving her nude except her lace panties and tall heels. She twists off her diamond ring and drops it on the bedside table.

“He won’t know anything,” she states.

She is breathtaking. He tentatively touches her arm, her shoulder. Runs his fingers across her collar bone, and down her chest. She gasps when he cups her breast briefly, before skimming over her ribs, resting his hand on her hip. He follows with kisses, all the way down the body until he kneels before her. He frees her legs from the dress, folds it, and toss it on a chair.

“If he did know – your husband – would you be in danger?”

She laughs at this, and cuts herself off. She looks at him earnestly.

“Thank you, Solas, for asking. I wouldn’t be. He would be severely disappointed, I suppose. Just like he severely disappoints me.”

He kisses her knee.

“I will endeavor not to, in that case.”

“Very good.”

The way her voice drops when she praises him sends a bolt of arousal straight to his dick. So does the fact that she’s here, with him, while her husband has gone home alone.

He runs his hands up her legs, and kisses her lace covered sex. She gasps, a low involuntary sound, completely lovely.

“Sit down, please?”

She does, sitting herself on the bed behind her. Before he can lean in closer, she lifts one foot, pressing her heel against his chest.

“You’re overdressed, Solas.”

“Of course.”

He takes off his jacket, and unbuttons his shirt. Iwyn crosses her legs, and follows every move with hooded eyes. He hopes he measures up. With his chest bared he leans over her and kisses her, deep and hungry.

“Everything, Solas,” she says.

He complies, taking off his shoes and dresspants and socks and boxers. There’s no elegant way to go about it, but Iwyn is just sitting on the bed, leaning back on her elbows with a small smile on her face. She smiles wider when he’s finally naked, and he’d happily suffer a little awkwardness to put such a smile on face.

Iwyn uncrosses her legs.

“Now where were you?”

Solas slides down in front of her. “Right here, I believe.” He slides his hands up her calves, past her knees. She yields to his gentle pressure, and lets her legs fall open. He kisses the inside of her thigh, and again, his lips caressing her silken skin all the way up to her lace clad mound. He kisses the lace, and she moans deliciously when he breathes hot air against her. He draws his head back to look at her, glorious above him, and caresses her with his fingers. He slips two inside her panties, touching her slick heat. Iwyn bucks against him, his other hand firmly holding her left leg.

“More,” she growls, and he draws her panties aside, leaving her clit exposed, pink and swollen. He teases it, and rubs against the sides of it, and then he presses down on it.

“Like this? Softer? Harder?”

“Harder, softer. Alternate.”

He smiles, and does as she asks, causing her to gasp and writhe. She is alluring, her half-covered sex arousing, her wet cunt inviting. He wants to taste her, to make her scream. He keeps working his fingers, and kisses the inside of her thigh. When he reaches the top, he licks up her cunt, reveling in her taste. She moans, a deep throaty sound and he groans too. He looks up at her, her shiny red lips parted, her cheeks flushed with desire.

“More?” he asks.

“Yes, please. Now.”

“I think I’ll get rid of these first.”. He smirks at her, moving his hands across her panties. They’re pretty, but in the way. He pulls the fabric a little up, making the lace rub against her clit, and then down. She lifts her hips easily, allowing him to slide them all the way down her legs. He carefully pulls the panties over the heels of her shoes, leaving them on her feet.

He doesn’t tease this time, no matter how inviting the soft skin of thighs is, but sits right up between her legs and spreads his palms over her hips. Her legs part wide for him, and he lowers his mouth to taste her again. He licks and sucks her sensitive folds and her swollen clit. He’s rewarded with a low moan, her head thrown back. He adds his hand, his fingers teasing her opening. Iwyn takes the opportunity to throw her leg over his shoulder. She’s wet and soft, clenching around his fingers, her juices coating his chin. Her heel digs into his back, pressing him closer to her, a beautiful counterpoint to her sweet taste.

She is all his, right here, even if it isn’t so outside this room. Not that she belongs to anyone but herself, not truly.

Solas keeps working his fingers, his tongue until she shudders around him, moaning and trashing against him. He lets her come down carefully, gently easing her out of her climax. Her leg slips to the floor and she relaxes into the bed.

“That was – very good.”

“Yes?”

“You did good,” she says again, firmer this time. His already hard cock jumps at it. He wants her and he wants her approval more. He wants to be good enough for her. He’s here with her, and her husband isn’t. He’s the one who slides his hands all the way down her legs, and gently takes off her shoes, kissing her ankles. He’s the one who crawls into bed after her when she swings legs up to stretch out on it.

He’s the one who asks her, “what can I do next?”

“Touch me,” she says. “Like you care.”

Solas is suddenly furiously angry, overcome with a need to punch Iwyn’s husband in the face the next time he meets him. He won’t, of course, and refocuses his attention on Iwyn. He just met her tonight, but he does care. He wants to touch her, to please her, right here in this downtown hotel. He also wants to talk art with her again, to get to know her better. He shoves that thought to the back of his brain. Being the one the satisfy her will have to be enough.

“I do care, Iwyn.”

She looks stunned at his earnestness, perhaps like she regrets her vulnerability. He patiently lets his fingers wander up her torso, feather-light. Iwyn recovers and smirks.

“Get on with it, then.”

He does, his hands wandering across her chest, teasing her nipples as he dips his head to kiss her. He learns what makes her moan, what makes her arch her back. Her hands are not idle either, sliding up his body, digging into his shoulders. He groans when she traces one finger up his cock, and wraps her whole hand around it. She pumps it slowly and all thoughts flee his mind, his hands randomly touching her, needing to feel her skin beneath his hands in any way he can. Iwyn sits half up, and kisses him.

“Lay back, Solas,” she says, extracting herself from under him.

He does, laying back and lets her continue to do as she pleases. Her hand is back on his cock as she grins, her other hand holding him firmly down when his hips jerk. He’s so hard it aches, and he almost can’t hold it together when moves faster, twisting her hand a little.

“I’m going to fuck you.”

“Please, please, Iwyn.” He’s ready to beg for anything, has been since he first laid his eyes on her.

She lets go of him, and finds the packet of condoms, opening one. Her nails are expertly manicured, a deep green color. The diamond bracelet glints against her wrist. She rolls the condom over his cock.

Seated above him, she drags her nails across his chest, her cunt hovering out of reach. He wants. He needs, he needs her now.

“Please,” he says again. “I need – “

She lowers herself on him, heat surrounding him, perfect and far too slow. When he moves, thrusting his hips up impatiently, she puts a hand on his chest.

“Stay still.”

Her eyes are burning, and it’s not a question. A demand. A test. He complies and grows impossible harder. Iwyn moves with agonizing slowness. His hands find their way to her waist, supporting, but not changing her pace, letting her stay in control. They’re both panting, eyes caught in each other.

Finally, Iwyn moves faster, leaning more on her weight on his chest as she collapses a little forward. He grips her hips tighter, and she nods. Now he moves with her, into her. It’s tight and hot and wonderful, and he moans her name as he throws his head back. Iwyn brings her own hand between her legs, and they both move faster, erratically. She trembles above him, glorious and beautiful, and his own orgasm takes him by surprise, intensity coursing through him.

Iwyn collapses fully on his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. She sighs and kiss his neck, as she slides off him, then tucks herself into him. Solas deals with the condom, and lets himself enjoy her warmth next to him.

"I don't normally do this," she says.

"Neither do I."

"Fucking a married woman, or engaging in one-night stands in general?"

Both. Either. He just nods, and kisses her brow. She idly caresses his shoulder. It feels far too comfortable.

“I’m glad I did,” she says.

“As I am I.”

They lay intwined, and he holds her. A minute. An hour. A moment. Long enough to pretend this belongs to him.

She slips away well before dawn. Home, he supposes, to her husband, or an empty bed he has left. Back to her real life.

She kisses his cheek.

"Thanks, Solas. I had a good time."

He squeezes her hand.

"Me too," he says, and he smiles, as wide and genuine as he can.

Casual fun, another man's wife.

The door clicks shut after her.

#dragon age #dragon age fanfic #solavellan #solavellan fanfic #iwyn x solas #writing about Iwyn #AHH it was so nice to write them again #they are happy and married in almost every timeline #here they get to be messy #just a bit #had 3000 words of this just lingering in my wips #very happy to throw it out there #finish your wips #viking writes #published 2/29/2024 #leap day seems apt for leaping back to solavellan #solavellan hell is eternal

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