#aveyond fanfiction

[iztopher]

if you're still doing the writing wrapped: 4, 6, 10, 16, 27!!

yess!!

4. Favorite paragraph you wrote this year?

Graduation was heartening. The tattooing process, while painful, hurt less than her freshly-healed lightning strike from Nanghaithya. She looked at herself in the mirror: sword inked along her sternum, sheet music curling around her calves, and reminded herself they meant she had proven herself a hero. She found she had some faith in Rhen Darzon, Sword Singer, to save the world.

from with rhyme and reason!

6. Favorite sentence you wrote this year?

It was the blade Rhen wielded - she couldn't herself think of the Sword of Shadows as her sword, not when she would be returning it so soon and hopefully never have to hold it again - that sliced down Ahriman's chest and sucked in his horrible, shrieking soul.

also from with rhyme and reason! I like this sentence a lot because it turns out I enjoy writing violence LMAO

10. How did you help other writers this year? (i.e. leaving comments, reviews, borrowing books, beta reading, etc)

I beta'ed for a handful of people this year, which was really fun, and I tried to make a point to get back into the swing of leaving comments. still have some to leave, though...

16. Who was your favorite character to write?

it's always a 50/50 shot for me. this year, Galahad wins.

27. Which books, movies, etc, helped instruct your storytelling this year?

saying "I'm not sure" is such a copout answer but truly I am not sure. I enjoyed a LOT of new media this year but most of it is very different from the stories I've been telling, so while I'm sure it subconsciously influenced me all the same it was kind of all just soup to me and I can't separate it out.

I played Zero Escape ages ago, but I think the most interesting is that ZE definitely inspired part of with rhyme and reason. The idea of different timelines was very present in my mind writing that fic, and my thoughts on that in media are very heavily influenced by ZE. also watched russian doll this year so that was probably also knocking around in there

I started Black Sails last year, and I do think watching it & finishing it this year was a big part of my interest in writing more characters making decisions I actively disagree with. I watched this part last year, but as specific as it is I rewatched the one incredibly :( Flint & Miranda sex scene before writing YTSLTLM lmao. there was an emotional discomfort there that really spoke to me I guess

overall the type of media I like engaging with is leaning darker/unsettling/weird and unexplained - horror, drama, stuff about death, time loops & other time shenanigans, mysteries - but the type of writing I like MAKING is staying solidly in goofy high fantasy land and Aveyond fanfiction, so I'm not 100% sure how those are gonna end up being reconciled. I want to make a point in 2023 to keep engaging w/ stuff that's more of My Vibe as a creator, which to be fair I did this year, but mostly by replaying Aveyond and rewatching Galavant LOL and not by experiencing anything new.

[rhendarzon]

A Trial To Remember

Characters: Rhen D., Lars T., Lorad R.

Idea: Again, just wanted to flesh out parts of the game, so why not Rhen’s sword-singing trial? :D

This is for the anonymous ask who requested it. I posted this on the forums but somehow never posted it here. Note, I might’ve edited it directly on the forums itself, but this one here is the draft straight outta my folders, so there might be lots of typos/grammatical errors, and I don’t have time to fix them. I might, later when I’m more available.

--

"Sword Singing novice students are required to undergo the mandatory trials. These trials are held to determine if novices are deemed worthy to be promoted to the next rank - apprentices. They will be held at the Shadwood field with the respective mentors. Students are required to be present by noon and no later. Latecomers will be penalized."

Rhen slapped the parchment shut and stared at it. It was wrinkled and almost torn at the folds, thanks to her constant fiddling with it. Taking a deep breath, she stuffed the parchment into the folds of her clothing and rolled her shoulders.

"Calm down. You're ready. You're SO ready for this."

This was it. The apprentice trials she had trained so hard and countless days and nights for. She'd mastered every move her teachers had taught her and had excelled in both her practical and theoretical classes. So why was she so nervous?

"Because of Lars Tenobor, that's why."

Rhen groaned and covered her face. Why was she letting that jerk affect her, especially now of all times?

"Because he excelled HIS apprentice trial easily, remember?" she answered herself again.

The sorcerers' apprentice trials were held a week before and had caused a big hoohah in the Academy. Rhen hadn't been interested in attending it because one, she wasn't a sorcerer, so what was the point? And two, she had better things to do anyways, like train for HER own upcoming trials. But her friend Missy had dragged her along, yakking on excitedly about how it is THE trial of the year, how just about EVERYONE is watching, and will she stop being such an "annoying needlehead and watch the damn trials already"?

So Rhen had forced her legs to walk to the field, arms crossed awkwardly across her chest as she stood amongst her fellow sword singers and the sorcerers. She'd planned to linger at the back so she could make a quick getaway when it was done - but Missy had pushed her to the front of the crowd and she'd stumbled into a clumsy stop.

In the middle of the field stood the very person she loathed, giving his wooden staff a few warm up swings and occasional grins to his devoted, cheering audience. She tried blending back into the unrelenting crowd but the commotion attracted the attention of Lars.

Rhen groaned as she recalled the conceited look he had directed at her.

"Come to watch me, Peta?" he had said, tossing his staff in the air and catching it easily.

"No."

"Hm," was all he said, accompanied by an eyebrow raise.

"Just here to check things out, so I know what I'll be facing next week," she replied unconvincingly.

Lars laughed. "Very funny, Peta. Thanks for the joke, I really needed it. But you will never EVER face anything nearly as amazing as what you're about to see."

She had bristled, uncrossing her arms.

"Oh yeah?"

"You heard me."

Things then escalated from there when she lost her temper and got herself into a heated argument with Lars. The cheering crowd simmered into an unsettling silence, although none of them had noticed.

"I am JUST as good as you are!"

"Whatever you say, Peta-"

"I bet my trial's going to be better than yours, too!"

Lars had started walking away, but he paused at those words and faced her slowly, a serious look on his face. He eyed her for a moment, then a slow smile formed on his lips.

"Is that a challenge?"

Rhen had been caught off guard but she lifted her head in defiance, heart beating fast. "Yes," she replied, her voice strong and clear across the quiet crowd.

"So be it."

Then it began. The whispers, the gossip, the news, spreading like wildfire throughout the Academy. It didn't help that there were many witnesses at the time of the issued challenge and that one of the PROFESSORS had taken an interest in it. He even told Lorad, her mentor and teacher, about it.

"Why didn't I just shut my big mouth?"

Rhen leaned her head against the Academy's stone wall and sighed, cursing her inability to keep a cool head. Now the whole Academy was going to watch her fight her way through the apprentice trials. All eyes would be on her. And worse of all, the brat HIMSELF would be watching her.

What if she FAILED -

"No! Stop it. You can do it. You've prepared for this." She slapped her own face, attempting to remove herself from her own self-inflicted misery.

"Five gold says she will fail the trials," came a loud voice from across the hall.

Her jaw dropped. Quickly, Rhen peeled herself away from the wall and tiptoed toward the wooden door. She peeked through the cracks to see Missy and another sword singer.

"Caleb! How could you? 10 gold says she's going to ace it." That was Missy, and she gave Caleb a hard whack on the arm.

"A lot of confidence you have there," replied Caleb as they walked further down the hall.

"Of course, she's my friend. Also that Lars boy has been giving her nothing but misery ever since they both stepped into the Academy," was all Rhen heard before they rounded a corner and disappeared. She grinned at that, silently agreeing with Missy.

That's right, Lars HAD been giving her nothing but misery ever since the day she struck him with a spell - unintentionally, mind you - through a stick back in Ghalarah. All she'd wanted to do was attend her classes and excel in her subjects in peace.

But no, he had to spread rumors that she became a slave because she was a thief.

That's it, then.

Rhen gave herself a determined nod and took a deep breath. She's not one to back down easily - oh, NEVER, she was Rhen Darzon after all - and she reached for her sword and headed for the field.

----

The atmosphere was electrifying.

Rhen knew how many students the Academy had; she just didn't know it was this many.  The surrounding observation decks were filled - all three tiers. Those who couldn't find any seats were forced inside the buildings, looking out through the windows.

The crowd made up of red and blue flecks - red, the color of the sword singing uniform, and blue, of the sorcerers'. Sword singing trials don't usually interest the sorcerers; but because it involved Lars, who was basically the most popular and well-loved boy in school, and Rhen, the girl who dared challenge him - and a sword singer at that -

This added to her anxiety. Her palms broke out in sweat and she wiped them on her uniform, forcing herself to take in deep breaths.

Quickly, Rhen made her way through the thick crowd. To say she struggled was an understatement. She made her way through easily, for the crowd seemed to part and back away as if she had the Plague. All eyes were on her.

"Hi," she muttered nervously to nobody in particular. After awhile she just gave up and headed toward her fellow students who were also taking the trials.

"Darzon! You're almost late," Lorad called out to her.

Rhen winced.

"I'm sorry, Professor Rethwell. I was having a little... trouble."

Lorad clucked his tongue and shook his head gently. "Alright, get in line."

Only ten sword singing students were marked as ready for the trials that year - Rhen being one of them - and her name was last on the list. She hoped that that would make the crowd lose interest and leave the field; one trial alone could take up quite some time. But the crowd didn't seem to change even when the number of students in line before her dwindled. In fact, there seemed to be MORE people, and Rhen wondered how that was possible.

Very soon it was her turn.

She watched as the boy before her got dragged away from the field by two other students, lying limply in their arms. Rhen swallowed hard. That was the sixth student to fail the trial today - she hoped she didn't make a seventh.

"It's your turn now," whispered Missy, "good luck and may the Goddess guide you!"

"Thanks."

"And the next and final student, first in her class, sword singing student Rhen Darzon!" Principal Harald announced. The crowd went wild - or rather, the sword singing side of the crowd, waving and cheering. The sorcery students watched on in stony but intrigued silence, watching her and exchanging occasional smirks.

Rhen spotted Lars in the first tier at the very front. Typical of Lars to get the best seat, she thought. He was watching her with a snide and knowing look, raising his eyebrows at her.

Ignoring him, she grabbed her sword and ran into the middle of the field, where the person in charge of conducting her trial was waiting. Lorad was holding a heavy sword twice the size of her own and a shield that could probably crush her if she wasn't careful-

She pushed the thought from her mind and plastered a smile on her face. He returned it kindly.

"Ready? Just like I've always taught you."

"Ready."

"You're my best student, Rhen... I want you - no, I NEED you to pass these trials."

"I... I'll try," Rhen stammered.

"Because you can't let that sorcerer boy win," said Lorad, with a wink. She burst out laughing at that and tried to compose herself. She nodded determinedly. "I won't."

Lorad gave her a quick bow. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she followed suit. The crowd quietened down as Lorad and Rhen drew their swords. They circled each other, each looking for an opening to strike.

Her professor was the first to strike. He swung and thrusted his heavy sword with lightning speed, actions almost impossible to follow. But Rhen, quick and alert, had no trouble matching Lorad. She was much lighter and smaller in size compared to him, and she used that to her advantage - striking when there was an opening and retreating when needed. Their blades flashed and clanged repeatedly, ringing and clashing.

Lorad evaded her spells and songs easily, and it frustrated Rhen to no end. Already she's been struck thrice by his own, and if that kept up she would be the seventh student to leave the field without passing the trials. That motivated her, and she continued giving her best.

In the midst of sidestepping one of Lorad's spells Rhen's foot slipped on a smooth patch and she fell backward onto the ground. The crowd gasped.

Groaning, she touched something cool and slippery, something that felt like -

Ice?

Bewildered, she looked at the ice patch, which started to melt under the sun.

How is there ice on the field, in Veldarah, where it was summer all year long?

Somebody laughed.

Rhen narrowed her eyes, immediately recognizing that obnoxious laughter. She looked up angrily and saw Lars laughing with his friends. When he realized she was staring at him he quickly put on a straight face and the icy blue tone on his fingers disappeared in a puff. He stared at her, feigning innocence.

Why that little -

"Rhen, watch out!"

Rhen instinctively rolled away, narrowly missing Lorad's sword as it came swinging down heavily and piercing the ground where her head was just a moment ago. She stared at it in horror, then back at Lorad, where the call of the Siren was on his lips. The yellow energy that accompanied his blade - mere inches from her face - dissipated into thin air. She thanked the Goddess for the narrow escape.

Before Lorad could yank his sword free she raised her own and sang, "Slide Thrust!"

Her sword burnt a bright crimson and a burst of red energy exploded from its blade. The force sent Lorad flying through the air and he landed hard on the ground, the wind having knocked out of him. Swiftly Rhen kicked his sword in the opposite direction - then ran up to him and gracefully pointed the tip of her blade at his throat.

For a moment there was silence - a silence so strong Rhen started to wonder if she'd killed her professor. But then Lorad flashed her a smile and the crowd went wild, erupting into a myriad of cheers and catcalls. Grinning, she slipped her sword back into its scabbard and helped her professor up.

"Extraordinary!" boomed Principal Harald's voice. He was clapping along with the others and smiling hard. "Marvelous!"

Lorad held her hand and proudly raised it in the air

The crowd's response was overwhelming. Rhen drank it all in, still unabled to believe that she had passed her apprentice trials.

But it wasn't over yet.

She scanned the crowd and found the one person she was looking for. Pressing her lips together, Rhen gave Lars a curt nod. He responded by rolling his eyes. Then, for reasons she couldn't comprehend, she found herself approaching her nemesis. Lars looked equally confused as she rapidly closed the distance between them.

"So," Rhen started.

"What do you want," he snapped.

"Nothing. It's just... I passed my trials."

"I never said you wouldn't."

"Yes... but you did say I'd  never have one as good as yours. I believe the actual words were 'You will never EVER face anything nearly as amazing as what you're about to see.' Well,  what do you think? Was my performance anything nearly as amazing as yours?"

"Hardly," replied Lars haughtily, but he wouldn't look her in the eye.

"Really?" she responded. He was fidgeting uncomfortably in front of her and she was enjoying every moment of it. Rhen decided to add more fuel to the fire. "Because I think the crowd begs to differ."

Lars looked up and around him. The cheers had decreased a notch but the crowd was still excited and hyped. Most of them seemed to have noticed the both of them talking too, judging by the way they nudged their friends and the way they were looking over curiously. This made Lars angry.

"What are you staring at?" he growled. Then he rolled his eyes. "Whatever. What a waste of my time." Saying thus, he turned to walk away.

Rhen watched his retreating back with a satisfied grin.

"Oh, that felt good.”

[queenrhenpendragon]

posting again because i’m sick nd tired of the way tumblr does tags nd i’m not dealing with it anymore<3

_________________________________

She had been searching for the princess ever since Dameon told her the story, because she believed that the princess could save the fairies. But now she came to the Vale carried on Dameon’s wings, with no princess and no wings of her own, because she knew just plain little Rhen could make a difference.

She entered the fairy court, side by side with her best friend. His hand was shaking in hers. She kissed it, like he had done for her the first day.

The Queen of the fairies was stunning. The whole court was stunning and bright, like the meadow had been filled with stars.

“Rhen,” Dameon whispered, “you’re glowing.”

And when she looked down, she was. And when she looked up again, the Queen had risen to greet her, and what she said was, “My daughter, you have returned to me.”

Then the Queen placed a kiss on Rhen’s forehead, the magical sort of kiss that only a monarch of the fae can give, and Rhen rose into the air and realized she had grown wings, and she was the princess she had been looking for all along.

From thenceforth she began to set aright all the affairs of the Vale. The period of mourning was over and a new time of rejoicing began. Dameon’s father was banished for his cruelty, and the law of kindness was once more restored as the fairies’ most precious ideal, more binding than oath.

And one beautiful morning, before the moon had fully set and before the sun had fully risen, Rhen flew with her best friend into the painted sky. She placed a crown of flowers on his head and declared him her prince, and then she took his face in her hands and promised to live happily ever after.

And so they did.

[aveyondfanfiction]

Freedom

As a sword singer, Rhen has earned her rightful freedom from Mistress Rona & Lars.

Disclaimer: I do not own Aveyond, nor any of the Aveyond characters. The original story belongs to Amanda Fitch.

Rhen stood stolid, back leaned against the side wall of the tailor’s, abstractedly palming the token she had only just received from Lorad. She had not been receptive enough to ask him any questions about Shadwood Academy, so he left her with her thoughts and made his way to the Tenobor estate. In the entire hour she’d be alone, she had not made any move to leave. She couldn’t yet fully accept that the recently transpired events were reality and not a dream. She did not quite believe that she was…free.

That word. That one word. Free. It lit a fire in Rhen. She had not felt such determination ever. Not back in Clearwater where her life was idle, but she was happy, and certainly not under the rule Mistress Rona where she found herself barely able to awaken each morning, always full of dread. No, this was a new. Since her abduction and subsequent enslavement, something had drastically changed within Rhen. She could never again be a blissfully innocent child, not when she was wholly aware of just how much injustice and evil poisoned the world. Therefore, she could not return to Clearwater. She would go to Shadwood Academy, she would become the best “sword singer” (whatever that was) in the realm, and she would use her newly found power and voice to abolish slavery throughout the empire. She was a woman with a mission. Beware whatever was to try and get in her way.

Rhen pushed herself off the store’s outer wall and made her way to Ghalarah’s gates. A city guard did attempt to disrupt her course, but one look at her token and he backed away, leaving Rhen an open path. Her token was a carte blanche, and Rhen had no intention to waste it.

She ran with abandon.

She did not look back.

[queen-of-ice101]

Heirs of Darkness - WIP Intro

“A child of tragedy, fleeing a rumoured curse and her own memories. Mel’s future was to be made of stolen gold, but a chance encounter in the darkest of times spiralled her life onto a far more treacherous path. Her fate was to be one of magic and shadows, entwined eternally with one that embodied both. Yet one cannot outrun their past forever, and as an ancient prophecy grips Mel she finds herself pulled between two sides with the fate of Aia hanging in the balance.”

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Action, Dark Romance, Soulbonds

Work Type: Aveyond Fanfiction AU, dark retelling

Setting: The world of Aia

Status: In Progress

Content Warnings: Violence and death, nothing graphic however

Info:

Growing up in the gated city of Harburg, Mel started in a life of freedom and love in a family that cherished one another. None would have thought that all it would take to unravel this would be a single touch to cold stone, an action that unleashed the deepest heartache upon her world. Left in a place that offered no help she is forced to fend for herself, alone and without answers. 

Fate, however, was not done with her, and in a chance encounter her bleak world was upended once more. Bound to the darkness itself, she is torn between the mortal world and a universe far more complex. 

Love and hate. 

Darkness and light. 

Life and death. 

One choice that will change the course of her life and Aia forever.

(Heirs of Darkness is a dark AU version of the AV3 storyline. Mel was the perfect anti-hero, her story clean cut even despite her family lineage. But, what if her world had been far more complex? A path that walks the balance between dark and light, an influence on her life that reaches deeper than the origins we saw in canon. This is what Heirs of Darkness explores, an alternate world where her life is far closer to that of the Lord of Twilight and decisions aren’t so easy.)

To be added to the tag list feel free to let me know via ask or message! Old updated chapters are currently being posted to catch things up on Tumblr during the evenings (Pacific Time) to bring thongs up to date

[ghedahrianvampress]

Curiosity Kills the Cat

BTW: This Fanfic corresponds with my avatar, which was drawn for me by the lovely and incredibly talented Mu11berry!

It was a long walk back to the ship for Mel and her Party. They had just finished up their business in the Orc Empire. Through some clever maneuvering they were able to steal the Orc King's Quarter Key without anyone noticing. For the most part, everyone was pleased with how their quest was going so far. So far, they had found two out of four of the Quarter Keys. They were making a decent amount of progress. They had reason to be proud of themselves. After all, not many humans were known to survive the Orc Empire. The very presence of Hercules and the Human Slaves back in the city jail was proof of that.

As Mel replayed that encounter through her head, she couldn't help but remember the conversation she had with Te'ijal and Galahad. She had known that they were a strange couple from the very start, but she had never imagined that they had such a complicated past. Te'ijal had never been easy to understand. You never knew what she was thinking. One moment she was remarking on how delicious your neck looked, and the next she was saving that very same neck from the clutches of her power hungry twin brother.

At times Mel wanted to know what went on in her mind, but there were also times when she didn't want to know. This was one of those moments when she did want to know. "Hey, Te'ijal, can I ask you a question?" she asked the Red Haired Vampress, as she walked up beside her.

"You certainly may, my little lamb," Te'ijal replied. "What is on your mind?"

Mel bit down on her lip, hesitating for a moment as to whether she should bring up such a topic. "Why did you want to marry Galahad so badly? I mean, you went to such great lengths to make him yours. Was he worth all the trouble?"

"I'm quite curious about that myself," Stella added, joining in on the conversation. Meanwhile, Lydia stayed behind, too busy watching her every step to ensure that nothing tore or soiled her new dress.

Te'ijal's ruby red eyes lit up at the mere mention of her husband. Mel might have been a bit inexperienced when it came to love, but she could clearly tell that the Vampress loved the Blonde Paladin with all of her unbeating heart, even if she did have a strange way of showing it at times.

"I do not regret the decision I made all those centuries ago, for he has indeed been more than worth the trouble," Te'ijal admitted, casting a glance towards her husband, who was slightly ahead with the other men. The girls all knew that he could probably hear them talking, seeing as he was a vampire with all the heightened senses of one.

"What made you want to marry him?" Stella asked. "Were you attracted to him, or was it simply because you found him entertaining?"

"He certainly is entertaining to me, but that is not entirely why I married him," Te'ijal explained. "He has always been a stubborn man, holding tightly to the morals in which he was brought up with, and I admire that, even if I do find them a bit frustrating at times. In addition, I have never met anyone quite as strong as him, and for someone who loves adventure and the dangers that come with it, it is wise to have someone like him around, just in case."

She went quiet for a few moments, as she appeared to be staring off into space, but then all of a sudden, she quickened her pace, easily catching up with the men, and wrapped her arms around Galahad's broad, armor-clad shoulders. Her long, spidery fingers slowly moving down his back.

"However, above all else, I married him because he is very muscular and sexy. I do believe he has the finest ass that I have ever seen," she commented with a slight smirk.

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, their faces each turning as bright red as the Vampress's hair. Well, everyone except for Galahad of course. He probably would have blushed at that moment as well, had he been capable of doing so.

"Silence your tongue, Demon Spawn!" Galahad exclaimed.

Te'ijal giggled flirtatiously, and in a sudden bold move, she reached down and grabbed his ass for a brief moment before walking past him, swaying her hips as she went in a most seductive way. It was obvious that she was taunting him.

"I did not need to see that!" Edward exclaimed, pretending to gag as he grabbed Stella and hurried on his way.

"I thought it was rather romantic," Stella remarked, blushing madly as she peered down at Edward's ass, or at least what could be seen of it underneath all of his armor.

"Personally, I find the two of them disgusting," Lydia remarked, sticking her incredibly long nose high up in the air.

And at that moment, Mel found herself wishing that she had just kept her curiosity to herself. After all, people did always say that curiosity kills the cat. Clearly there was a reason that Te'ijal's mindset was so private. Mel feared that there were many more inappropriate thoughts hidden deep within. Thoughts that ought to be heard only by mature adults.

[satohqbanana]

Where did you come up with the ideas for the three main party members? Are there any other playable characters planned?

Not entirely spoiler territory:

The only other playable character is Charles the rat, who joins you for a maximum of four unique encounters in the second area. If you're lucky on the roll, you can give commands for her up to three times. That means you get maximum three moves during battle every time she gets her turn to act. You can use these three moves to, for example 1) attack an enemy, 2) use an item to support the mages, and 3) focus and defend Charles from the enemies. My friends think she's pretty OP, but then again, she's technically my friends' idea and by extension their IP and their baby, because they wanted a rat to befriend in the game.

As for the answer to your first question, that is funny, slightly embarrassing, and also needs proper context from when I first thought of making a RM game (long after me experimenting with XP, VX, and VX Ace back in the day).

So around the time that I first jumped into the AV Discord, MV was set for sale, and I insta-bought it because of excitement. Around this same time, I was already playing with the Aveyond roleswap AU idea (some of which I'd exchanged with Remi) that eventually became Arcanium main. (Yes, Arcanium roots from being an AV AU.) So, I thought, why not make something about that roleswap AU of sorts? Just something for fun.

And so the idea for the game was born: three mages - because mages are a class I love, but feel like are usually underdeveloped for battle systems in most indie RPGs I played because they usually don't do well as support - who don't really like each other are stuck with each other. They do not make a very suitable team for crawling a dungeon, but they must navigate several dungeons.

Then my computer died on me and my MV file got corrupted.

I was super duper bummed. And during that time it got corrupted, I felt that the roleswap AU was growing to be something else. At this time, I decided to separate the AU from Aveyond, and that AU became Arcanium. Since these are discounted Aveyond characters/ideas TM and also I figured out I can salvage a few parts of the corrupted initial game, I decided to develop a different set of characters. And that was the real start of the characters of Grace Ardor III, Ireus Maverick, and Duke Desmond.

I could go on and on about this, but the rest of the explanations also have a bit of lore with them that are not totally relevant to the scope of Arcanium: Magia demo yet. But also, to truly answer your question, they originated being discount versions of AU Rhen, canon Dameon, and canon Lars. XD

So yeah, Arcanium is technically Aveyond fanfiction, but less actual fanfiction but more like a love letter at its core. I hope you enjoyed that story. XD

[areathpendragon]

I think Lars is a stay-up-VERY-late type cuz he can't stop reading his magical book guide...

... or he has to finish all chapter in a Aveyond fanfiction just to make sure Rhen will end up with him THEN he can go to sleep haha

https://picrew.me/image_maker/42680/complete?cd=usFAOBsJb7

#lars tenobor #aveyond1

[573637476688d-blog]

Hey there. My Aveyond curiosity brought me here and I don’t know how long I will survive in this madness but let’s challenge me. I’ve been everywhere lately, forums, fanfiction, DA with this weird username, stalking the Aveyond amaziness XD

tbh tumblr is awesome…scary, but awesome! I guess we’ll see how this craziness will turn out lolol

Note: if you see the name Crazy Brainstormers somewhere…do not approach

@queen-of-ice101 @mu11berry we’re part of this now, there’s no going back

[aveyondwinterexchange]

EsmeAmelia from the Aveyond Kingdom forum’s gift for me! Thank you so much ^^

[being-a-bit-random]

After having read many Lars x Rhen fanfictions, I have decided to try my hand at writing one of my own.

“The sorcerer and the sword singer” will look into the journey that these two undertake, from being master and slave to becoming more than that.

I hope all the Aveyond fans are still eager to read more Lars X Rhen fics, as am I. Do check my story out. I’m still new at the writing scene, so any and all criticism is welcome. Also, any inconsistencies in the story with the game itself may have to be pardoned, although I will do my best to correct it if pointed out :)

This is only the first chapter, but I’ll continue with this, depending on how it is received.

[iztopher]

hiii darwin i have asks for you finally! 🎀🌈🍭 and, just because i'm curious if there even is one,🎙️

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

okay honestly my favorite thing about my writing is how good I am at writing Aveyond fanfiction specifically, and by that I mean I feel like I do a really good job at tying in lore tidbits and referencing parts of the games that aren't directly relevant or haven't actually happened yet. Every time I read over one of my fics and there's something like that buried in I'm like "hehe yes".

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

probably not because I am a pretty open book when it comes to things I'm struggling with writing LOL. like, there's a lot of fics I've struggled with but I've talked about them? that said, if you mean just from its presence on AO3...

left undead! My god this fic was really hard for me and I almost entirely gave up on it. I feel like my writing style is just not equipped for a modern setting, and my beta initially agreed with me. I spent so much time on it - including, uh, reading Twilight for it - that I was really upset about the idea of throwing in the towel, too.

But I let it sit for a week, came back to it, and cleaned it up well enough to share! and I'm really glad I did, it's a good fic.

🍭why did you start writing?

in general, and fanfic, are two different reasons haha. I honestly can't even remember why I started writing, because once upon a time I wrote original stuff as a kid, for pretty much as long as I can remember. I'll chalk it up to the fact that I didn't have any siblings or friends in my neighborhood growing up so I needed a way to entertain myself and I was a pretty creative kid for that reason!

for fanfic, it's because I didn't think there was enough te'ijalahad fic and I wanted to write more LOL, especially because a lot of the stuff that was out there wasn't to my taste

🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of?

this is a super interesting question because I don't listen to podfic, so my first thought was, I guess any would be cool but there's not one that sticks out to me? but upon reflection, it's stop me if you've heard this one before! So much of this fic for me was like, tone of voice and imagining them laughing and grumbling and stuff, so it would be really cool to see how someone else took it and maybe see it translated into actual audio?

[rhendarzon]

I Know

Okay I couldn’t resist writing something based on that last textpost about “imagine your OTP” kzdsfsdbfk so here’s something I wrote under half an hour

Prompt: 

One time when i was a little drunk and laying in bed with a guy, i kissed his neck and mumbled "i could beat the shit out of you” in his ear.

He said “i know”

—–

Rhen couldn’t hold her liquor, but she wasn’t about to tell anybody that. Especially not to Lars, who had a knowing smirk on his face.

“Give it to me,” she ordered.

Elini poured her a tiny glass of Veldt’s best and handed it to her. Rhen snatched it and gave it a careful sniff.

“Chicken,” Lars said.

“Shut up,” she retorted, narrowing her eyes at the deep red liquid.

“You have to take it all in one swig to enjoy its maximum flavour,” Elini said helpfully.

“I know,” Rhen replied. She took a deep breath and slowly brought the glass to her lips.

On the other side of the table, Lars turned to Te'ijal and Galahad. “She won’t be able to do it. She’s a pansy,” Lars told them. The vampire just smiled, amused by the spectacle in front of her.

Rhen glared at Lars. “Shut up. I’ll do it. Just watch me.”

“Rhen, don’t…” Dameon warned.

“Sure. Go ahead,” Lars interrupted condescendingly, failing to control the laughter bubbling at his lips.

Determined to wipe that smug smirk from his face, Rhen tilted her head back and took the liquor in one shot. She forced herself to swallow the rich, bitter liquid, wincing internally as it burned her throat. When she was done, she slammed the empty glass down on the table in front of her and gave her companions a victorious smile.

They stared back at her, mouths agape.

“Did she just -” Lars started.

“See. Told you I could do it. Look who’s the chicken now,” Rhen said childishly.

Her companions did not reply. They continued their open-mouthed stares, with the exception of Lars, whose mouth opened and closed as a goldfish’s mouth would. Rhen frowned disapprovingly at their silence.

“What, no ‘Wow, that’s amazing, Rhen!’, no 'We’re sorry we ever doubted you, Rhen!’?” she cried. Rhen crossed her arms huffily. “I can hold my liquor just fine, thank you very much.”

The awkward silence continued. 

Lars side-eyed Elini and the demon-summoner shrugged. Annoyed with the silence, Rhen clucked her tongue. “What is it? Never seen a sword singer drink? Well, congratulations, you have!”

When she got no reply, Rhen sighed.

“Fine. Stay silent, I don’t care. But what is it with this Veldtian weather? It’s so hot, I feel like a piece of roasted meat. I need a bath,” she said, rising unsteadily. Rhen lost her balance and fell back on the couch, groaning.

“The human does not look too good,” Te'ijal chimed in.

“Nonsense. I’m fine.”

Dameon went to her side. “Rhen, how are you feeling?”

Rhen waved the sun priest away and giggled. “I said, I’m fine. You know what’s not fine? What’s not fine is your hair, Dameon. Your hair’s not fine.”

Dameon turned red and Lars burst out into laughter.

“What is so funny,” Rhen slurred, pouting. She made another attempt to get up from the couch. Lars also rose from his seat and quickly wrapped his arm around her waist before she fell.

“You definitely need to rest, chicken,” he said, still laughing.

“You’re so mean,” she mumbled.

“Sorcerer, please take her to my guestroom before she empties her stomach’s contents all over us,” Elini said humourlessly as she refilled the empty glass.

Te'ijal nodded, reaching for the drink. “Dishonour!” she drawled jokingly.

Still laughing, Lars half-supported, half-dragged Rhen into one of Elini’s spare bedchambers. Her legs failed her during the final steps and she crumpled to the ground in a heap.

“Get up,” Lars said. When Rhen made no response he rolled his eyes. He reached for her and carried her over his shoulder.

“You’re so funny, Lars,” she said suddenly.

“Mm,” he replied, almost inaudibly. He carried her to the bed.

Arms tightly wrapped around his neck, Rhen refused to let go when Lars tried to dump her on the bed. Struggling, he lost his balance and they landed in a tangle of arms and legs. Groaning, Lars rolled his eyes again.

“Ugh, never drink again, Rhen,” he said.

“Your hair is so soft,” she slurred, ignoring him. She patted his head, grinning.

“You’re impossible. And so easy to rile up.”

“Shut up and kiss me, seaweed head,” Rhen mumbled.

“Look who’s talking,” Lars replied, then obeyed her orders and pressed his lips against hers.

Rhen whispered once they broke apart for air.

“What?” he asked.

Another mumble.

“Come again?”

“I said, I could beat the shit out of you,” she murmured.

Grinning, Lars replied, “I know.”

[queenrhenpendragon]

Me Too (In Pieces 5)

So. Hello there. I am finally updating on this platform, after a billion years. And I still can’t write in chronological order, after all this time, so please take this nice little oneshot about Rhen and co spelunking in the Blackbone Caves to rescue Armaiti’s soul. And also of course mostly about Rhen and Dameon and their heckin cute little budding friendship.

All the other daevas (except Aesma) chose places with historical or spiritual significance to wait for The Chosen One, so I gave the Blackbone Caves a tiny mythology too.

_________________________

According to the stories, some ancient evil had made its home in these caves in the old days. The bones of the heroes who’d tried to defeat it were melted into the cave walls, burned and broken and finally fossilized, the black scorch marks serving as a reminder for the ages that once a demon had dwelt here, once death had lived below the mountain. That’s why they gave these caves the name Blackbone.

That’s what the stories said, but Rhen didn’t believe them. Yes, okay, she admitted the formation to her left looked eerily like a ribcage, but there were lots of weird formations in caves. That’s just the way caves were. And yes, she took pains to sidestep the uncannily skull-shaped rocks that littered the floor, but definitely not because she thought they were skulls. They just unnerved her, was all.

Te’ijal did not seem unnerved in the least, and had quickly passed the rest of the group, her eyes adjusting to the darkness more readily than theirs. Rhen could still hear her somewhere ahead of them, taking out the rasps and the sickle snakes, and when the passage was particularly long she could see the vampress’s outline bounding excitedly from one morbid formation to the next.

Elini, too, seemed to find the charred skeletal rocks fascinating. She was babbling about their possible latent magical abilities with Lars.

Rhen, personally, would rather not hear about all the creepy rocks, thank you very much. She had heard plenty of stories already. There was a traveller who had come through Clearwater sometimes, and for a bit of dinner he’d share the most horrifying tales he’d collected on his adventures. In Rhen’s opinion the stories were fifty times better than the real thing.

Because the stories weren’t real.

And that was probably why she had hung back from the rest of the group to walk with Dameon, and why she was now telling him one of the more frightening tales in a low, lively voice. Low, because the caves were dark and full of echoes, lively because it hid the anxious quaver in her throat.

Dameon listened attentively, his eyes wide and round and shimmering softly in the glow of the magic ball of light he held in his hands. He trembled at all the right parts, he made a choked almost-chuckling sound at all the funny ones, and when she got to the end, “And some say the demon still lives in the Blackbone caves to this— daaay!”

— Well, that was when she tripped into him, and the light went out and it was very dark and confused and tangled— and she didn't want to land on those horrid blackened bones so she clutched desperately at what was in front of her— and— when it was all over and he’d managed to make another light he was backed against the cave wall and her hands were fisted in his robes. And now her face was hot, and his was rosy in the yellow glow, and she could feel both of their hearts pounding—

“Hello there,” she squeaked, straightening herself and stepping back slightly.

“Hi,” he said, still pressed to the side of the cavern. “Are you all right?”

Now her ears were hot, too. “Yes. Sorry, I tripped.” She swallowed and managed to say with some levity, “Ruined the end of a perfectly good story, too.”

He gave her a small smile and pushed himself off the wall with his elbows. ”That's all right. It was maybe more exciting this way.”

She felt a grin crack across her face— this was much better than listening to some lecture on demonic tainted objects and their uses in summoning. Speaking of which, Elini was looking back at them with what looked suspiciously like a laugh etched on her face, which was highly insensitive and presumptuous, Rhen thought.

“Where did you hear that story, anyway?” Dameon asked, as they began walking forward again.

Rhen shot him a crooked smile. “Oh, I got it from this adventurer who used to come through Clearwater sometimes.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she said, and laughed. “It’s funny, we all treated him like royalty. We’d have a sort of fair every time he came through town.”

“A fair?”

“You know, silly games and baked goods and showing off our apple crop and stuff. He probably thought we were all ridiculous. I think we were.”

He gave her an encouraging little nod, a sort of I see, and then cast his eyes down.

“Anyway, he’d always ask Ma to mend some rip in his cloak and he’d tell us stories while she worked. Not just scary stories,” she said, in response to his raised eyebrows. “Some ridiculous stories, too, about his pirate lover and wicked goblins and giant squirrels. I always thought they were just made-up.” She laughed, a little ruefully. “Guess not.”

His light made the shadows dance off the rocks, softening their edges. They looked much friendlier this way.

Everything was quiet for a moment, and then Dameon made a low sound in his throat, and Rhen looked up at him. “I didn’t see many travellers in Aveyond,” he said shyly, watching the ground. “Nobody… nobody is supposed to know where it is.”

She rubbed her arm. These caves were warm. Weren’t caves supposed to be cool? “Well,” she began carefully, “lucky for me I’m not nobody.”

He glanced up briefly, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. He had full lips like Talia, Rhen had noticed lately.

Also lately she found she liked when he smiled, and she liked to watch the slow grin that grew on his face when she was being silly. How long had it been since someone laughed at her jokes? Oh, she’d been laughed at plenty in the past couple years, that was for sure, but this was—

Different.

“I know where Aveyond is,” she found herself saying, with waggish arrogance, and the other corner of his mouth came up. “I bet that old traveller would be jealous of me,” she continued, tossing her head. “I’m a princess, after all.” She tried to say it haughtily, but it came out with a bitter edge that scraped her throat— “I’m the chosen one!”

— She meant for him to laugh, but now he watched her sadly. He was supposed to laugh, and then she could laugh and pretend it really didn’t bother her at all, maybe she could even pretend it wasn’t even real at all, but now instead she just felt—

Wide open.

She looked away and tried to clear her throat. “Er— well, anyway, I bet he never even left the Western Isle.”

She could feel his dark eyes on her. They made her gut warm. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Nobody should have to find that out like you did.”

She raised her eyes to meet his, and was surprised at the understanding in his gaze. She looked down again. “S’alright,” she mumbled, and shrugged. “Anyway, maybe— maybe if it happened differently I never would have met you.”

He hesitated, drawing his eyebrows together so there was a little crease between them. “Are you saying— do you— do you think that makes it—-” he paused, and then he finished quietly, timidly, “worth it?”

She felt a soft smile sprout on her lips. She hadn’t expected to smile here. “Right now I think so. I’m glad I met you.”

The light flickered faintly and the shadows trembled on the walls.

“Rhen?”

She looked up at him.

“Rhen, you— you are the most— I—” he faltered, and finished almost fiercely, “I’m glad I met you, too.”

And now Rhen smiled a full smile, not because it was funny but just because she was happy— oh, it had been a long time. She stepped closer to him and his soft yellow light.

“Wanna hear another story?” she asked lowly, her voice trembling now with the opposite of nerves.

And the corner of his mouth quirked up again.

________________________

Previous ....... Next (In the Dark)

[queenrhenpendragon]

Back and Forth (In Pieces 23)

For reference, the party has returned Eithera to Aveyond, gotten Pirate John and Mad Marge, and is on the way to get a dragon. Also, I have Dameon trying to learn a spell from a spellbook, because even though one for him is never mentioned in the game, in Ahriman's Prophecy there is a book in the Collegium of War and Magick that says spells must be studied to be learned. So. Yeah, I’m a nerd.

Warning that this one is a bit more emotional than the previous ones; Dameon has a lot to work through.

_

They had stopped for lunch on the beach, at Pirate John's request. Galahad said it was hot and Te'ijal said it was romantic, or amusing, she couldn't seem to decide which. Lars thought it was sandy, and Elini's hair kept getting in her mouth. Mad Marge sneered at her and told her to cut it, and Rhen told her Dameon could braid it, and swung her own braid around to show the demon summoner, which Dameon thought was very cute and also very— 

There was a kind of twisting in his stomach that reminded him how frail things like this were. He had been so— happy, recently, and the last time he had been this happy—

It could all end, it could all end quickly, and he would be powerless to stop it, just like before.

He had to do something, he had to be prepared this time.

So he had excused himself, and walked farther down the desert beach to look for a quiet place to study. He’d found a cove, which shielded him from view, and he’d taken out his spellbook and sat down to try to learn the one offensive spell a Sun Priest could learn, Sun Fury. 

It was an ancient spell, older, perhaps, than even Vata. He had seen his father use it only very, very rarely, when he was in danger, or when his... when his mother was in danger. And one horrible time, against his mother, on that night. 

He didn't want to remember, not now. He had to concentrate if he was going to figure this spell out. He glared down at the book in his hands— it had been his father's. 

Father. Mother. The words did not mean what they once did. They did not mean the same from one moment to the next. Father, someone he had loved, who had protected him, and taught him— someone who had died, who had left him when he was most in need. Mother, someone he had trusted, someone who had betrayed him carelessly—

Someone who wanted his forgiveness.

The gentle back and forth of the waves on the beach should have soothed him, but instead it flustered him, back, and forth, and back— like his thoughts, and he couldn't escape either.

He used to think his mother was evil, for what she had done, for how she had broken their family. But today, the party was going to capture a Tehyor dragon. Tehyor dragons could not abide evil. And he couldn't help thinking, as he sat alone in the sand, with the waves crashing in front of him— what if— if he could forgive his mother, if he had forgiveness anywhere in his soul, then maybe— maybe, his family could be un-broken. And maybe the emptiness in him, the lack of anything light— maybe that was the real evil. Maybe the dragon would kill him.

He was afraid to die— and back, and forth, and back, and forth—

The waves were like him. Inconstant. Unsteady. Advancing only to retreat again. Forming only to break against the beach, against sand—

He had fainted during a battle that morning. He was always fainting, he couldn't fight back when attacked, like the others could. He hated it— the cold sweat, the foggy spinning feeling in his head, the sour taste in his mouth and the knotted feeling in his gut, like he'd been punched, and most of all how helpless and pathetic and useless he was, and how vulnerable he left everyone else, and especially—

Especially, he hated how vulnerable he left Rhen, and maybe it was selfish of him, and maybe he didn't care.

That's why he had to learn Sun Fury. He couldn't leave her without shields, or healing, not anymore—

Eithera had made him realize it. Eithera was invincible, and terrifying, she could probably break him in two if she felt like it, and he had no evidence she didn’t feel like it— but she had taken an immediate liking to Rhen, and before they had arrived in Aveyond she had told Dameon, in a low voice, "If I had any intention of retiring in the next century, I would make the sword swinger my successor."

And then, almost indifferently, "It is too bad she will die before then."

He'd turned to stare at her, and she'd scoffed. "Foolish child! Being the Chosen One does not give her immortality. Do you forget?"

He had not forgotten, only... he had not remembered, and—

It was not fair, that Rhen would die, after all she had done for the world, and all she still intended to do—

He could do almost nothing about it. All those useless defensive spells he had— he could protect her from injury, from nearly every kind of magical attack, from curses and poisons and broken bones— but against time, every spell he had was powerless.

Vata could protect her, if he chose to, if it were necessary to his all-important grand scheme of things.  And the Oracle could protect her, if she thought it would help keep the world in balance. If, it all came down to that, to the uncompromising decision of some ancient being who had long forgotten what it was to be human— to be small, and— to be vulnerable.

The sound of the waves pulled him back to reality. Back, and forth, and back—

It was like the way Rhen's braid swayed behind her when she walked— and back, and forth. He remembered how she blushed when he talked to her— and back, and forth— and he remembered how frighteningly pale she was after a battle when she'd lost too much blood—

It always made Dameon think of his father, on that night, when he lay dying on the stone floor and there had been nothing Dameon could do, just stare and scream—

His father's life had not been important to Vata's grand scheme. It had not been necessary to the balance of Aia. His father, who had been the Druid of Light for centuries, who had protected the Oracle's precious harmony for millennia— he was left to die. Would Rhen's life be valued any higher?

He could not risk it. He had not forgotten what it was to measure life on a different scale than the unbending masters of Aia. He remembered loss. His heart still ached with it. His soul was still numb.

And the waves still advanced and retreated, they never rested, back, and forth, and back—

Ahriman could protect her. Ahriman could give her immortality, and he wouldn't have any arbitrary conditions, any unmeetable demands. He would grant her life because she was steadfast and strong, and deadly and—

She was also beautiful, in a way that had nothing to do with her smile or her long eyelashes or all her gently curling hair gathered up in a braid behind her, swaying back and forth—

And back, and forth—

She had asked him to braid her hair again that morning. He had been thinking of what Eithera had said, and of what his mother had done, and a smile had been the farthest thing from his mind. But when she gave him her brush and that familiar rosy blush spread over her face, he had smiled without thinking about it, and he forgot about all those dark things and he thought instead of lavender and of how funny it was that he unknotted her hair just to knot it up again— except more neatly, of course. She had laughed when he told her so. Her laugh was beautiful, and loud, and genuine, and if a sound could be made by a candle flickering in a far-away window when everything else was dark, that would be it. 

A world without that laugh would be— empty. 

He had to learn this spell. He stared down at the book. He couldn't comprehend the words, he was reading them but they were passing through him like ghosts—

And back, and forth, and back, and forth—

He read the words slowly, tested them on his tongue. They felt foreign. It was foolish, to think he could learn a spell like this. He was not powerful, like his father. He did not even know if he was good or evil.

But not learning the spell was not an option. He read it again. 

Maybe all he could do would never be enough. He could not even bring his mother to justice— he didn't even always know if he wanted to, or if he should want to— 

He could not undo what he had already done. He could not fix what was already broken— he was broken, and if he kept fighting the world and his mother and— himself— maybe he would only ever make it worse. 

There was not enough light in Aia to combat the darkness that was inside him.

The words were still unfamiliar. How many times had he read them now? It didn't matter, he had to fight, he had to learn this spell. For Rhen. 

He said the words until he remembered them. He remembered them, but he didn't feel them like he should. He put the book down and picked up his staff. He said the words again. 

Nothing. 

He tried to reach for some kind of offensive power inside, something like—

Anger. He was angry at his mother.

He said the words. Nothing.

He was angry at— the Oracle, for dropping the weight of the world on Rhen, for giving her nothing to help her carry it, for not even caring if she lived or died—

Nothing, nothing, nothing!

He was angry at— at— at—

Himself, for not being able to do this, for being so weak and powerless and— broken—

Something happened, something in his stomach that rose up his throat with the words— and it rebounded back against him, painfully—

He tried again. The spell backfired— again. He grunted in frustration. Why couldn't he be like Rhen, dangerous and capable and— good—

Again— it backfired. It wasn't working, he was only destroying himself—

Again—

"Dameon! What are you doing?"

He whirled around and suddenly he was facing Rhen. She was standing at the mouth of the cove, her eyes wide, her lips a quivering pink o.

"I— I— I was just trying to learn this— spell."

"What— what spell?" Her voice squeaked— he had frightened her. She was walking to him now and he took a step back. 

"I— I was practicing Sun Fury. It's for— offense."

She had reached him. She put her hand on his staff and he knew she was trembling by how it shook. "Well— stop practicing. You're tired. You need— a break."

"Rhen..." he didn't know how to explain it to her, she didn't understand. He had to practice, he needed to know this spell— he didn’t want to scare her. "I— I should be able to do this by now! Sun Priests have been learning this spell for— millennia."

"Please, Dameon?" She was looking up at him with her vividly violet eyes— what was beautiful about Rhen was the bottomless look of those eyes, like they could swallow up all the darkness in the world and still sparkle in the sun. Her beauty was kindness and gentleness and all those things which sounded so soft but which were so heavy to carry— which she carried anyway, because she was brave. "Let— let me take care of the offense, okay?" she continued. "I need you to defend me, and to take care of my injuries, and to— to—"

He swallowed down the anger that still shook in his chest, the rage that was mostly shame and fear, and he finished for her, "— To— braid your hair?"

She smiled softly, and then flung her arms around his neck and rested her head on his robes and held him until he forgot to be afraid. 

And when they got to the dragon later that day, and it glanced sideways at him and his heart stopped, Rhen just took his hand and pulled him up to sit behind her on its back, and he clung tightly to her waist, and he still didn't know if he was good or bad—

But he could hold on to her while the world raced by beneath them, and— she would help them find the answers, whatever they were.

[queenrhenpendragon]

Hiding (In Pieces 17)

Rhen goes through a lot in the games, but because she keeps such a good attitude through it all I think people tend to forget or minimize it, so it was nice for me to write something that addressed her struggles in some small way. And also I wanted to look at why Rhen distrusts pirates so much in the game; I was originally going to have something with Pirate John but this piece happened instead. It's set when the party goes to the Veniara Isles. I had them stop for the night.

Rhen was curled up in the lower deck of the skudder, scowling and fuming and being angry at the world— but mostly at herself.

She had yelled at everyone. They hadn't even done anything. She just didn't like the way the Sour Ale Tavern smelled; like sweat and mold and three months without a bath, like that ship, the one that took her away from everything she knew. And she didn't like the pirates, or the way they leered at her. She didn't know who had sailed that ship, but they'd looked like pirates, and they had leered the same way. She hated them, and she hated the pirates in that stupid tavern—

And it was no excuse, but that's why she'd blown up at Elini when the summoner nudged her and nodded appreciatively towards one of the criminals, like he was worth looking at, like he had ever done anything that wasn't despicable—

Lars had tried to tell her she was being ridiculous— she was being ridiculous, but she'd yelled at him anyway. And she'd yelled at Galahad when he tried to tell her to behave more like a lady— and at Te'ijal, for no reason other than that she was standing there. The vampress had just stared at her, smiling like it was amusing. It wasn't funny. There was nothing funny about piracy, or violence, or— or— or— slavery—

And all this time she had watched out of the corner of her eye as Dameon slowly approached her, wearing one of his little frowns, and finally he'd said her name and she'd whirled on him— she didn't need his judgement too, after everything else— she just wanted someone to be on her side— and she'd yelled and yelled—

She didn't know what she'd said. She just remembered the baffled look on his face as he apologized for nothing, and way he stammered, "It— it's all right, Rhen," after she screamed, and— and—

How the color slowly rose in his face as she shouted at him, and the light went out of his eyes— those eyes that had understood her in ways she didn't understand herself— and the old guarded look of his face came back, like a prison door closing and the lock clicking, and he wouldn't look at her no matter what she shrieked at him—

What had she said? She wished she knew, but all that was clear was that she was alone again, and it was her own stupid fault this time. The others were all still at the tavern, where she'd left them when she'd run away. She'd run from the pirates, and from the hurt faces of her friends— from the deadness in Dameon's dark eyes— and mostly from her stupid, idiot self.

Pa would tell her she shouldn't turn her back on her problems. She needed to fix what she had broken. She needed to be brave.

But she wasn't brave. She was impulsive, sometimes, and people thought that was courage, but courageous people didn't run away. She did, she had run away in more ways than one. She remembered how it felt to be in Clearwater— not like home anymore, not like a place that knew her. It was a hiding place. All the things people asked her to do had seemed farther away there. Courageous people didn't hide. A brave person would do what was needed, would stand up for herself and would stand up for all the helpless people in the world, stepping boldly into the unknown, not longing always for security that was far past. Not like her.

A brave person would not still be afraid of pirates, for something that had happened so long ago.

And, certainly, a brave person would not have yelled at her friends.

But perhaps, at least, an impulsive person might pretend to be brave. She could apologize for her stupidity, and could maybe be forgiven, and then, possibly, things would go back to how they were before.

She was shaking, but she wanted to try.

So she got up, and dusted herself off and tried to straighten her hair. She readjusted the sword on her back— because she was still scared, and it made her feel safer— and she went back to the tavern.

There were more pirates inside now, she guessed because it was closer to dinnertime. She saw her group sitting in the back and she tried to make her way towards them.

But it was so crowded, and she didn't want to touch any of the pirates because they smelled and they were glaring at her and they were making her nervous— she reached back to feel for her sword, to reassure herself—

And her arm bumped into someone. "Sorry," she said quickly, but he turned to scowl at her.

"Scurvy landlubber!" he gritted between black teeth, and grabbed her wrist in rough hands, like those hands—

"Hey!" she protested, but he ignored her—

"I warned yer kind not ter touch me," he said, his gaze flicking momentarily to the corner where she knew her friends were before settling back on her.

“Leave me alone!”                      

But his grip tightened and she couldn’t pull her arm free— “Whining whelp,” he growled, and she was afraid of him, and she hated him, and she didn't have time for this right now— she reached for her sword with her other hand—

"Let go of me or I'll—"

She didn't get to finish her threat because the pirate's head was abruptly knocked to the side and he let go of her wrist to touch his jaw, and Rhen looked to see who had helped her and saw Dameon, nursing bloody knuckles, looking angry and a little surprised and a bit shy—

"You'll pay fer that," the pirate said, balling his fist and pulling back his arm to take a swing at the priest—

But suddenly Rhen was jumping between them, roaring "Don't touch him!"— and she was shaking and her heart was thumping painfully but she wasn’t going to move.

The pirate looked taken aback, his bushy eyebrows raised high, and slowly his fist dropped to his side. And then, unexpectedly, a grin cracked across his face, and he laughed. "Well, aren't you a feisty lass!"

Rhen didn't know how to respond to this so she just growled.

The pirate chuckled. "Go on!" he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I been hit worse before. Teach yer dog to punch."

With that he turned back to his drink, and Rhen was left trembling before the real enemy— herself, and her stupid pride—

"Rhen," Dameon began, reaching for her—

"Don't touch me," she said between gritted teeth, not because she didn't want him to hold her but because her pulse was still pounding and she was still shaking. "What possessed you to punch him?"

Dameon's eyes— dark and lifeless— met hers. "I— didn't want him to hurt you."

She just wanted everything to be all right between them again, but she was afraid to say the only words that might help.

"I'm— such— a coward," she managed.

There was a moment of nothing but the raucous conversations of drunk seamen and the stink of molding wood, like that ship, the one she hated— and then Dameon said, slowly and quietly, "You are the bravest person I know."

She swallowed hard, and hesitated for an awful moment before hiding her face in his broad chest— brave people didn't hide, but she did, and brave people didn't cry but maybe that was only because they didn't have a place to leave their tears, and she felt secure enough, now, to say those frightening words—

"I'm sorry— for being angry," she said, or she meant to say it, but it came out a whisper. "I didn't mean it. I was just— afraid."

He had stiffened at first, like he always had before, but now he was holding her gently. His hands were warm and soft. "It's okay, Rhen," he said, and she heard in the slight breaking of his voice that he would protect her, even if he couldn't punch for crap—which was both alarming and reassuring. She pulled away from him to look into his eyes. The lights were coming back.

"Is— are the others still angry with me?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Good," she said, and swallowed. "I would like— to apologize to them, too. Will— will you come with me?"

He kissed her hand, and said, "Anywhere," and it was the silliest, sappiest thing she had ever heard.

But she believed him.