#etain torren

[queen-scribbles]

My home, my heart, thank God you are Someone who loves me

For my beloved @haledamage! 💕💕 I give you a soft Etain/Vikkari moment thanks to @sunshinemage bc I saw the one YCH pose and my brain immediately went to our babies.

[haledamage]

a kiss after treating a wound for Etain and whichever out of Casavir, Lann, or Vikkari you wanna use 😊

While all three options are very tempting, Casavir won out this time around 😁 mostly because in Faerun, Etain doesn’t have angelic powers that include very powerful healing spells, so more drama and less righteous smiting of her enemies 😇

Etain/Casavir, Neverwinter Nights 2, sometime in late Act 2/early Act 3 I guess? It’s not really related to the plot beyond mentions of stuff from very early in the game. Not yet in a relationship, but so, so much pining. So much.

---

Healing wasn’t Etain’s specialty.

Magic in general wasn’t something she had much talent for, beyond a few bits and pieces Aimee had managed to teach her when they were children. But what she lacked in skill she made up for in sheer willpower. 

She spent all afternoon expending every ounce of curative magic she had and wracking her brain to remember any of Father’s lessons in herblore or Tarmas’s in alchemy that might help. She even tried praying, to the gods of the sun and the forest, and even to Tyr, who had never paid her much mind but would hopefully be willing to listen on behalf of one of his faithful.

It had been enough--barely--to pull Casavir from the brink.

Sand had come by sometime just before sunset, looking exhausted and disheveled and even more surly than usual. He stayed just long enough to drop off a handful of potions and a stern if hypocritical lecture about not overextending herself. The potions had taken the gray cast from the paladin’s skin and cooled his fever, but it hadn’t been enough to wake him.

That had been hours ago. Long enough that the lanterns were starting to burn low, the shadows in the small room growing long and flickering. Etain stayed by Casavir’s bedside, mixing herbs and moss with her mortar and pestle until it formed a serviceable enough paste. She grabbed a pinch of it, rolling it between her fingers before carefully pressing it against the wound in his side.

His eyes immediately shot open. In a single, fluid motion, he sat up in bed, seizing her wrist with one hand while the other reached out for his sword.

“Whoa, easy!” She knew she wouldn’t be able to physically overpower him, but she still pressed her free hand to his chest like she might be able to push him back down. In the most soothing tone she could muster, she continued, “Easy, Cas. It’s okay. You’re safe here. But you’re injured. I need you t’lay back down, okay?”

To her relief, he obeyed, his sudden burst of energy calming at the sound of her voice. He let her guide him back down to the bed and settled down with a heavy sigh.

In the silence that followed, he rolled his head enough so he could watch her more easily. She tried not to tense under his inspection, letting him take in their surroundings, the table of empty potion bottles and half-crushed healing herbs, the fact that both of them were out of their armor and alone except for Pippin, who was curled up by the door. The grizzly hadn't so much as moved during Casavir’s brief outburst, knowing his mistress wasn't in any actual danger.

“Please do not be a dream.” Casavir’s voice was rough with pain--and probably also from whatever Sand put in his potions--but the words were clear enough.

Etain shook her head, sending a small smile his way as she picked up the bowl of her mortar again. “Is this somethin’ you dream about a lot, Cas? Gettin’ stabbed?”

His eyes were fever-bright but clear when they met hers. “I dream of you, Etain.”

“...Oh.” Any reply she might’ve made disappeared in a puff of smoke. She turned away, shaping another pinch of herb mixture in her fingers for far longer than necessary, waiting until her heartbeat slowed and the blush faded from her face before getting back to work.

Casavir didn’t so much as flinch this time when she carefully spread the concoction over the stab wound in his side. The swelling around the wound started to fade, the angry redness of his skin fading as poison and infection were drawn from him. By morning, he should be almost fully healed, and the herbs would flake away like ashes.

Hopefully. Assuming Etain hadn’t screwed up her measurements.

“Where are we?” he asked eventually. If he felt any discomfort from either her silence or her makeshift poultice, he didn’t show it; he just watched her face, expression warm but otherwise unreadable.

“My old room at the Flagon. Duncan was nice enough to let us crash here for a bit, but my room’s the only one that was ready when we arrived.” She set down the bowl and reached for a roll of clean bandages. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I recall… fragments.” He closed his eyes as if that would help his recollection, a familiar frown furrowing his brow.

Etain waited to see if he’d say anymore, but he didn’t. “D’you remember the part where you saved my life? That knife was meant for me. You stepped in front of it.”

Casavir’s expression immediately evened out again, relief overtaking his previous consternation. “Good.”

“‘Good’? Cas, it was poisoned!” She bit her tongue, surprised at her own outburst, and didn’t speak again until she was sure she could do so without yelling at him, though she wasn’t quite able to smooth away all the sharp edges from her voice. “I’ve been fightin’ tooth and nail to keep you alive until Sand could mix an antidote. I thought--” her voice broke, anger giving way to fear, “I thought I was gonna lose you for a minute there.”

He reached out and took her hand, and she dropped the bandages back to the table, forgotten. At his wordless request, she abandoned the rickety stool she was perched on and sat on the edge of the bed instead. He pulled her even closer until he could hold her hand over his chest, covering it with both of his and pressing her palm against his skin so she could feel the steady, even beat of his heart.

“I apologize for worrying you, my lady,” he murmured, voice deep and rough and heart-stoppingly sincere, “but I will not apologize for saving you. I will always try to save you.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d made that vow. And like every other time, Etain was torn between wanting to kiss him for it and wanting to shake him until he placed more value in his own safety. 

She didn’t do either, and instead used her free hand to push a few wayward strands of hair out of his eyes, then let her fingertips trail lower, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “My life is not more important than yours, Casavir.”

Her rare use of his full name brought a smile to his face. “Yes it is.” His knuckles brushed against her cheek, his touch gentle and almost reverent. “No one is more important than you are. Not to me.”

His ice blue eyes watched her with an intensity that was at odds with the softness of his touch. Etain could feel herself blushing again under the heat of his stare, but she held his gaze as best she could, fighting against the urge to turn away and hide from it. “You’re just sayin’ that because you think you’re dreaming.”

“No, Etain. I say it because it’s true.” His smile widened enough to show a hint of the dimple in his right cheek. Casavir had a beautiful smile, dashing and boyish and even a little playful, made all the lovelier for how rarely he let it show. Etain had fallen a little bit in love with him the first moment she saw it.

And had been falling ever since.

He murmured her name again, drawing her eyes back to his and making her realize she’d been staring at his lips for gods-only-knew how long. Too long for him not to have noticed, even addled with potions as he was.

“Cas--” she started, but she wasn’t sure what she intended to say after. She bit her tongue before more words could escape.

Casavir looked at her like her awkward fumbling had just given him the answer to a particularly complicated riddle. “This is not a dream.” He sounded like he was trying to reassure himself of the truth. Like he needed to be reminded.

“No. Or anyway, if it is, I…” Etain looked down at where her hand still rested on his chest, unable to meet his eyes anymore, “I don’t think it’s one of yours.”

He chuckled, and warmth bloomed in her chest at the sound. “Is this something you dream of often, my lady? Tending my wounds?”

She smiled slightly, daring a quick glance back at his face, and echoed his declaration from earlier. “I dream of you, Casavir.”

Instead of replying, Casavir slowly sat up, mindful not to reopen the wound that Etain had spent so much time and effort healing. With a gentle touch, he lifted her chin until she met his gaze again.

It wasn’t until she looked up that she realized how close he was. Their positions on the soft, worn mattress erased the slight height advantage Etain usually had, putting them at almost the same height. It made the space between them seem much smaller than it actually was.

The way Casavir continued to watch her didn’t help matters either. There was a wistfulness in his expression, and something she could only call longing. It reminded her, strangely, of Aimee, and the way her friend would talk about the adventures she wanted to have and the places she wanted to see; a mix of desperate desire and resigned sorrow, like mourning the loss of something before she even had it.

His next words only made the comparison stronger. “If this were a dream,” he whispered, “I would kiss you.”

“You can’t kiss me when you’re awake?” Etain matched his tone, not wanting to break whatever spell they seemed to be under by speaking too loudly.

“There is nothing I want more. I have wanted to for far longer than I care to admit.” His thumb traced the curve of her lower lip, as if imagining what it would be like, but his smile was sad. “If only it were that simple.”

It could be, she wanted to say. It could be so simple. Let us have one thing in our lives that’s easy. Something we don’t have to sacrifice or fight for.

All she actually said was, “I know.” She turned her head so she could kiss his palm. “But I wish you would.”

Casavir exhaled sharply, like her confession had forced all the air from his lungs. He pulled her close, his hand curling gently around the back of her neck, almost but not quite embracing her. Warmth radiated from him, and this close Etain could tell it wasn’t an entirely natural heat; his fever was returning.

“Tell me again in the morning,” he murmured into her hair, punctuating the plea with a quick, searing kiss to her temple, “when I can be certain I will remember it.”

“I will,” she promised, forcing herself to withdraw from the safety and comfort he offered. “But right now, you need to rest.”

He let her guide him back down to the bed without argument. It was clear that their conversation had taken a toll on him, no matter how much he tried to hide it, and by the time she pulled the blankets over him he was more than half asleep.

Though he was still awake enough to grab her hand before she could pull away. “Stay with me. Please.”

Etain only went as far as the stool still waiting by the bedside. “Don’t worry, Cas, I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

That was all the reassurance he needed, and within minutes Casavir was fast asleep.

Etain went back to her herbs, trying desperately not to think too much about what would happen when morning came.

[queen-scribbles]

benefits of solitude

14. Scratch (WotR Dance of Masks; Etain/Vikkari)

borrowing @haledamage's girl with this one :3 -----

Vikkari appreciated the cover provided by the Kenabres celebrations. Between going strong so late into the night and their nature as a masquerade, it was far easier to sneak out of the city with Etain than he would have thought. There were twenty 'Knight-Commanders' running around, no one spared a second glance to notice his was the real one.

Etain walked beside him, noticeably distracted despite agreeing to come and following his path without complaint. He left her to her thoughts and didn't pry, walking in equal silence until they reached his goal--a small copse of trees circling a boulder large and smooth enough to make an excellent natural seat.

"We're here," he said, giving her arm a gentle nudge.

Etain rolled her shoulders as she pulled her focus back to the moment and surveyed the surroundings. A hint of a smile crinkled her eyes. "Very nice."

She always seemed more relaxed in the woods, but this time some tension remained, a shifting in her stance that spoke of unease. "Everything alright?"

"Mm," Etain hummed, shifting her weight foot to foot. "We just saved the day again, why wouldn't it be?"

Because you seem antsier than Titus when he broke one of our father's beehives. But he just shook his head and gestured to the boulder. "Just checking."

She sat--near the edge, he noted--and cocked her head. "So, any reason in particular for the solitude?"

"I know it's your preference," Vikkari said. He dropped his attention to the small pack he'd brought, and when he looked up she was leaning against the tree behind her, rocking back and forth. "Etain." Bit his lip to hold back a chuckle when she froze. "Is something wrong?"

Etain slouched with a frustrated growl. "I have an itch. Started right before we left the city, and it's right at the top of my wings so I can't reach it, and it's driving me crazy."

The chuckle escaped as Vikkari sat next to her. "Hence the Pippin impression, I assume." He started to reach toward her back, then paused. "May I?"

"Oh, please," she groaned, leaning into his hand like a cat when it settled between her shoulder blades.

"Here?" he confirmed, scratching the top edge of where the feathered wings joined her back.

"Mmhmmmmm," Etain hummed in gratitude, her head falling back against his shoulder as she sagged in relief. She sat in contented silence a moment, then tugged down her mask and tipped her head further to look at him. "Thank you."

Vikkari, quite enjoying the weight of her leaning on him, tipped his head to kiss her temple. "You're very welcome. I know you'd do the same for me." He lightly brushed his fingers along the top of one wing before letting his hand fall.

"Of course." Etain let her head loll against him a moment longer before straightening. "Although I'm pretty sure this wasn't what you had in mind when you asked me out here."

"No, though I'm always happy to help. I, um." A sudden rush of nerves hit him, and he fought the urge to fidget as he pulled the small pack closer. "I made you something."

"Again? The others really will accuse you of favoritism," she teased, gently nudging his shoulder.

"We're well past hiding that, I think," he laughed. "But I'm not talking about whittling." This time. The next of that kind was still in progress. Deep breath as he pulled the carefully wrapped bundle out of the pack. "I've been tweaking one of my recipes, and I think I'm finally happy with it and wanted you to have the first batch."

Etain's eyes lit up. "Cookies?"

Vikkari smiled as he handed them over. "Oh, I hope they live up to that reaction."

From the deeply satisfied groan that accompanied her first bite, he didn't have anything to worry about. She was three cookies in before she stopped and looked at him. "They're delicious."

Vikkari chuckled. "I may have suspected. Thank you, I'm glad you like them."

"I forget how much you like to cook since Seelah does it a lot when we're traveling..." Etain sucked crumbs off her fingers and offered him a cookie, which he declined(he'd tested plenty while making them), before wrapping them up. "You're very good at that, too. Thank you for the cookies, and the solitude. And the back scratches."

"You're very welcome for all three, but," he linked his fingers between hers and brought her hand up to kiss the back, "I don't think we need to be done yet..."

"You don't think they'll miss us?" she arched a brow.

"I think it'd be fun to see how long we can push it," he countered with a smirk.

"No arguments here," Etain said warmly, leaning her head on his shoulder again, and it was quite a while before they deigned to return inside the city walls.

[queen-scribbles]

a late start

29. Sleep (post-WotR; Etain/Vikkari) borrowing @haledamage's girl again <3 ---

Etain was, as usual, awake before the sun. Unlike usual, however, she didn't immediately hop out of her bedroll to start the day. Instead, this morning she opted to lay where she was and watch Vikkari sleep in the predawn light. He looked so peaceful; slow, deep breath of true sleep, one arm flung over his eyes, silky purple hair pooling around his face.

Angelic even when you're dreaming, she mused, familiar ache of fondness in her chest. At this angle, with his arm across his face, she could see the scars usually hidden by his shirt, snaking from his elbow up to his shoulder. "Never tangle with a wolverine" had been the only explanation he ever offered, and Etain had barked a laugh of agreement and not pressed. It didn't matter.

She reached out and, feather-light, traced her fingers along the track of one. All the way from his elbow to the crown of his shoulder before letting her hand drop, smiling when his fingers twitched.

Movement caught her eye, and Etain shifted her gaze to the tent entrance. It was probably Pippin, tired of waiting for breakfast. But there was no brown bear snout poking through the tent flaps. Nothing to consider a threat, either. A small blue butterfly fluttered in through a gap and alighted on her hip.

Etain forced herself to swallow the chuckle in her throat. You won't find food there, little one. The butterfly took flight even as she had the thought. It relocated to Vikkari's elbow, which apparently took a longer examination to dismiss as a food source, because it sat there a full minute, wings beating almost lazily.

She watched it, praying Vikkari wouldn't wake or move in his sleep. I knew you were sweet, but didn't think it was enough to confuse butterflies. She'd have to tease a little.

The butterfly lifted off again, winged a couple slow loops of the tent before finding its way out.

Vikkari's breathing had shifted when she turned her attention back to him. "Were you watching me sleep again?"

"Mm," Etain hummed. His arm was still over his eyes, he couldn't see her bite her lip. "I like seeing you so... content. Relaxed." Knowing you trust me with that. "You're very pretty when you sleep."

Apparently she wasn't awake enough to censor her words. She clapped a hand over her mouth, face hot, the second the thought slipped out. You don't say that part out loud, Etain.

Vikkari shifted, moving his arm and rolling on his side to look at her. "Thank you." His eyes were warm with mirth and... something else. "So are you, though I don't get nearly as many chances to see it." He smiled and reached over to trace light, random patterns between her freckles. "Lucky for me you're just as pretty woken up."

Etain let out a nervous giggle, even though they'd been together long enough she knew this was sleepy unfiltered Vikkari, not charming insincerity. He was always sincere. "You..." She wasn't sure what, precisely to protest, and let it trail off as his gentle touch moved from her freckles to her scar, whisper-soft down the length of it.

Her lips pursed slightly as his fingers brushed over them, and Vikkari chuckled as he leaned in at the unspoken invitation. "May I?" he murmured, breath warm on her cheek.

Rather than answer, Etain closed the narrow gap and kissed him, her fingers sliding into his hair. (She always forgot how soft it was.)

His chuckle turned into a laugh as he kissed her back, his fingers cool as he cradled her cheek. "I suppose we should get up...."

She laughed at how his reluctance mirrored her own. "S'ppose we should. Pippin's prob'ly hungry."

"Good point. And we have a lot of ground to cover yet." Vikkari tipped his chin to kiss her forehead before rolling away to sit up and stretch.

Etain followed suit, checking the state of her braid and trying not to let her wings flare too wide in the tent confines. It was so peaceful in here, despite the hints of temperate weather--and the bear who needed feeding--outside, she was tempted to tug Vikkari back and insist it was fine to linger, get a late start just this once.

It was a temptation she managed to resist.

But only just.

[queen-scribbles]

OC Kiss: Rain (Etain/Vikkari, WotR)

(borrowing Etain from @haledamage for this one)

There was nothing to see here.

The terrain being so flat made watch duty a piece of cake, almost boring. Or would, under normal circumstances, but the rainstorm currently drenching the steppes made it nigh impossible to see more than a half dozen feet.

Which, in turn, had Vikkari worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he peered into the rainy gloom for both unanticipated threats and an anticipated return. Mostly the latter; she'd been gone for hours and he figured most creatures would be seeking shelter rather than food on a night like this.

Despite the attention he was training to mark her return, however, Etain still managed to sneak up on him.

"Think there's any new rivers forming tonight?" she asked, tone dry as the weather wasn't, shaking water off her hood.

Vikkari flinched at her materializing out of the gloom, then chuckled softly. "Some new streams, at least. Did you find anything?"

Etain shook her head, then tipped it toward the boulder he sat on in silent inquiry. "No sign."

He nodded, shifting over a bit to make sure there was room. "Can't say I'm terribly surprised, night like this."

She snorted as she sat. "I did spot a pretty big coney. I suppose that's not nothing, but with the weather screwing up visibility" --a gesture toward the sky-- "couldn't get a good shot." She cocked her head. "No whittling?"

"Too wet," Vikkari explained, though his fingers did twitch from the lack of a hobby to keep them buy. "Wouldn't want to cut off my thumb because the knife handle's slippery."

"Good reason," Etain said, tugging down her mask. She studied him silently a moment. "You could keep watch from the tent, Vikkari." She reached for his hand, stilling restless fingers. "No one would blame you on a night like this."

He laughed sheepishly, heat climbing his neck as he squeezed her hand. Thank you. "I can do better out here, though." Water dripped from his hood as he ducked his head. "And I wanted to be sure you got back safe. I don't mind some rain."

---

Etain smiled, wondered if he'd see it in the gloom. She knew that wasn't any lack of confidence in her skill, just his tendency to play Mother Hen with people he cared about--like fussing over Lann not wearing shirts or Ember being barefoot or Nenio choosing research over sleep. Just... more. Because it was her. And while she was still coming to terms with someone caring about her that much, she did appreciate it.

"Worried I'd drown in one of those new rivers?" she said lightly, squeezing his hand.

"Or be devoured by a rogue water elemental," Vikkari drawled, glancing at her with a smile visible in the glow from his eyes. "Encounter a smilodon with more hunger than sense."

Etain laughed. "I do appreciate you watching for me. It..." She reached over, hesitant, to brush his cheek with her fingertips. "I could see your eyes. Once I got close enough. It made finding the camp easier."

The overcast night made them seem brighter than usual, just by contrast, and his smile at her words made them brighter still.

"You don't need to do that, Etain," he whispered. "Try to excuse my worrywart tendencies."

"I'm not." Pippin nudged her hip and she absently reached back to pat his head. She'd tell him to go lay down, but the others might revolt if she made them sleep in the stench of wet bear. "Not saying I would have been lost without them" --though maybe in a more metaphorical sense... --"but they did make it easier to find my way back."

"Well." Vikkari leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Sweet of you."

Etain bit her lip, everything north of her shoulders suddenly very hot. "You're, um. You're welcome."

The vaguest sense of an outline flickered through the darkness in her peripheral, in the same moment Pippin lurched to his feet with hackles raised. Etain and Vikkari both stiffened, peering intently through the saturated gloom for whatever threat had her bear on edge. Etain stood, drawing her bow and nocking an arrow to be prepared at another glimpse of movement just on the fringes of her vision.

Vikkari abruptly pivoted, hot orange magic slicing through the night as he flung a spell. It only grazed the target, but left a smouldering line of kindled fur that Etain used as a guide to loose her shot. Even with the spots dancing in her vision from the bright flare of the spell, there was a yowl and thud and lifeless feline carcass visible in the light spell sputtering to life in Vikkari palm.

"Apparently you weren't that far off about the smilodon..." Etain said, nudging it with her foot. The poor thing's ribs were showing; no wonder he'd rated potential food higher than shelter.

"Apparently," Vikkari murmured. His hood had fallen back, rain dripping off his hair and nose as worry warred with humor across his face.

---

"Hey." Etain nudged him and gestured to the scorched line down the smilodon's back. "Thanks for the guiding light."

He nodded, gaze fixed on the arrow jutting from the side of the dead cat's neck. That she could make that shot in the dark, in a rush... "Happy to help. You think it followed you?"

She shrugged. "Seems likely. Guess it was waiting to judge if it could take one of us before pouncing."

"Well, I'm glad you and Pippin are so perceptive," Vikkari said. "And that you decided to linger with me for a minute."

Etain's brows twitched at the implication, glancing between the smilodon and him. "Me, too," she mumbled, the spell's light accentuating the angles of her face.

He shook water off his hair, debated pulling up his hood. But he was already drenched, as was the hood, so that would probably be more harm than help at this point. "All's well that ends well," he said in reassurance, reaching for her hand. "And that was a damn good shot."

"Oh." She blushed. "That was lucky, Vikkari." A sheepish laugh as her fingers slipped between his. "I might be good, but not that good."

"I think you are," Vikkari smiled, tugging her closer. His other hand rose to trace down her jaw. "I also think I need to thank you properly. If I may?"

Etain tipped her chin toward him, shuffling closer, even as she commented. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping watch?"

He chuckled, hand sliding to the back of her neck, words now spoken practically against her mouth. "I think I can trust that to Pippin for just a minute," he murmured, and kissed her gently. Chaste and sweet.

"Or two," she mumbled, her hand digging into his hair to hold him close, kissing him deeper.

"Or two," Vikkari agreed with a breathless grin before letting her pull him in for another.

[But he did have a responsibility, and that was the only thing that had him easing back. "You should get out of the rain before you catch cold or something."

Fond amusement flashed in Etain's eyes and she deadpanned, "Maybe then I'd get a break. But I take your point." She still crouched to retrieve her arrow first, then gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze on her way to the tent. "G'night, Vikkari."

"Night, Etain." Vikkari settled back in the boulder as she and Pippin headed to bed, once again alone with the rain and the view of big, flat nothing to watch.

Only now with a smile on his face.

[queen-scribbles]

Happy (early) birthday to my bestie @haledamage, I give you (and, lbr, myself :P) Etain/Vikkari art from @the-upper-shelf bc these two have consumed me in the best way possible. I love them, and I love you, and I hope this brightens up your day <3333

[haledamage]

ALRIGHT YOU ASKED FOR IT. FIRST. Because as it happens, I do love Etain, the grey area one for her and Casavir :3

OH BOY this is a fun one :3

Etain and Casavir's relationship is something I've been having a lot of fun figuring out, since Neverwinter Nights 2 leaves a lot of room to play around with it

in the actual game, there's only one real "romance scene", right before the Final Battle against the big bad, and in fact a majority of the romantic dialogue doesn't even feature the main character, but instead is mostly Casavir and Bishop talking about Etain

Bishop wanted it to be a love triangle so badly but sorry bro, she is just not into you

so I've chosen to believe that all the real romance happens off-screen so I can give Etain and Cas the mutual pining slow burn they deserve

one of my favorite parts is the complete lack of denial on Casavir's part in what little romance content there is. he openly admits his feelings (mostly in a "yeah I'm in love with her, mind your business" kind of way), but he has no expectations of them being reciprocated and no desire to make a big deal about it. it's just a fact of life for him: water is wet, the sun rises in the east, Casavir loves Etain

that leaves Etain in a kind of gray area of knowing their feelings are mutual but also not wanting to push if Cas doesn't want to act on them. they spend most of the game's second act in this gray area before they finally reach a breaking point

and to help us get closer to that, we have one of my favorite catalysts, in the form of "one of us almost died" >:3 Etain sure has a thing for the self-sacrificing type, no matter which universe she's in

I just checked and it turns out the prompt for this is actually one you sent me! "a kiss after treating a wound"

the main thing I've been struggling with is the "kiss" part, these two really want to just keep Pining™, but I think I've managed to convince them to skirt around that with either a cheek or forehead kiss ;)

here's your five sentences!:

His smile widened enough to show a hint of the dimple in his right cheek. Casavir had a beautiful smile, dashing and boyish and even a little playful, made all the lovelier for how rarely he let it show. Etain had fallen a little bit in love with him the first moment she saw it. And had been falling ever since. He murmured her name again, drawing her eyes back to his and making her realize she’d been staring at his lips for gods-only-knew how long.

my poor smitten Knight-Captain XD

I've managed to write an addition 200 words after these sentences now, and I think I've almost got this one finished actually 😁 I'm gonna try and finish it up real quick while it's cooperating and then I'll move on to the next one

[haledamage]

🍟🍷 for Nadia, 🍓🍕 for Etain, and 🍉🌽 for Marii :3

Nadia:

🍟: What does your OC admit to be their guilty pleasure? What actually is their guilty pleasure?

Nadia would say her guilty pleasure is days off. Considering just how much she is the linchpin that keeps Teer Fradee from descending into war, she thinks that taking time for herself is selfish. But her actual guilty pleasure is like... extreme outdoor sports. Cliff-diving, rock climbing, spelunking. She wants to climb the tallest cliff she can find just so she can jump off of it. She feels guilty about it because it's going to give Kurt a heart attack before he's 35, but she loves it.

🍷: What's one of your OC's pet peeves concerning food?

Eat. What. You. Take. She's been to plenty of fancy banquets that her uncle's hosted, and she's also been roughing it in the wilderness where the only food you have is what you can find. In both cases, it's not the excess or lack of food that gets to her, and she has no problem with a person who takes a lot of food and eats it. It's purely the people that take a lot and then don't eat it, especially if they do so knowing full well that they don't intend to eat it all. She's looking directly at you, Constantin d'Orsay. Finish your damn dinner!

Etain:

🍓: Does your OC have any particular scents they like? Or hate?

Etain loves floral scents. Roses/rosewater are a particular favorite, but any and all flowers are good. And like, woodsy scents. She doesn't care for really cloying perfumes. Overly sweet smells, or overly strong ones. Maybe it's the forest-hermit in her, maybe it's because she associates them too much with the worst parts of nobility.

🍕: How does an OC spend a lazy day?

In bed. Sleeping, reading, snuggling (with Pip, or with a romantic partner). She doesn't have to get dressed, she doesn't have to put on her literal or figurative mask, all she has to do is exist.

Marii:

🍉: Does your OC have a particular piece of jewellery that they always wear or refuse to part with?

hmmmm, I don't think she does. I don't think she wears much jewelry at all, actually 🤔 she has a lot of keepsakes, but most of them are articles of clothing or weapons rather than jewelry. I think she would wear jewelry, if she had any, but I don't think it's ever crossed her mind to buy some, and no one's ever given her any.

🌽: How does this OC feel about acts of affection? What's their favourite act of affection, physical or emotional?

Marii is a hugger. Or I guess a leaner would be more accurate. She likes to lean her head on people's shoulders or rest it on top of their head, depending on if she's shorter or taller than them. she's a big fan of the hug-from-behind with Theron (or Tragen 😉), so she can either rest her head between his shoulder blades or lean back against him, depending on if she's giving or receiving.

[haledamage]

What Does You Heart Look Like?

tagged by @queen-scribbles 💖💖💖 to take the quiz linked above for an OC

I did more than one :3

aaaaand I'm tagging. hmmm @agentnatesewell @lotrificationer and @starlightcleric (no pressure of course 💖)

Etain

a guiding, golden light

Just because you cannot see your own heart doesn’t mean that others can’t. Your heart is blinding, captivating, a fire so bright that others can’t bring themselves to look away. It illuminates the path they follow and cements you as a guiding star for their own wayward hearts. Every experience you’ve lived through has built your lighthouse heart up just a little higher. You are inspirational, a light that doesn’t go out.

Nadia

an open door, a burning hearth

Your chest is wide open, and your heart is a home. Others are welcomed in readily and asked to stay. You are comfort and love, everything you were never given but so desperately want to provide for others. You have built this welcoming hearth with your own two hands and won’t see anyone else left out in the cold. Be careful to not burn yourself out trying to keep everyone else warm.

Qora

iced over, out of the sun

Your heart is very lonely, isn’t it? Is your fortress of ice self-made? Are others afraid of you, or are you afraid of them? Are you afraid of hurting them, or of being hurt? Vulnerability and connection can be frightening, but that’s no reason to shy away from their light, to tuck yourself small into corners, to build up frigid walls to keep yourself from feeling. You will heal when you allow yourself to draw closer to the flames and thaw.

[haledamage]

Dancing Lights

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAIT @queen-scribbles 💖💖💖💖💖!!!! Hope you're having a great day!

I bring you a gift of Etain/Vikkari, with him as Commander and her as the companion for a change 😉 she wanted to help him with what must be Azata path's biggest issue in the early days. fairly early in the game, I think, and definitely pre-relationship, but Etain definitely has a crush :3

---

Etain was staring.

She knew she was, and that she shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

She just hadn’t expected the Commander to be so… adorable. Not that he wasn’t also powerful, and strong, and courageous, and charismatic, and all the things the leader of a crusade should be, but… Well, she’d assumed that the mysterious power that inspired the Fifth Crusade would have less… butterflies.

There were just so many of them. They’re like little dancing lights of blue and green and pink, catching Etain’s attention anytime she lowered her guard--which was more often than it should be, lately, but something about Vikkari put her at ease.

Like now. They’d set up camp on the edge of a thick copse of trees that seemed as safe as anywhere could be in the Wounded Lands. Dinner had already been eaten, and their group had split off to take care of their own business before sleep and watch rotations started.

Etain was supposed to be cleaning and restringing her bow, but got distracted halfway through the task, and now she was staring. At Vikkari. 

Again.

If he noticed, he didn’t seem bothered by it. His focus was on the small block of wood that he was carefully carving into, strong hands gently and meticulously coaxing it into shape. Butterflies flitted around his head, glowing softly in the falling daylight.

One of them landed on his nose, flexing its tiny teal wings. Vikkari shook his head to shoo it away, but it held fast. He lowered his whittling with a dramatic sigh, which fluttered the butterfly but didn’t dislodge it.

Etain couldn’t help it. She giggled.

She covered her mouth almost immediately after the sound escaped, but it was too late. Color bloomed over her cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears, but she managed--barely--not to pull up her mask to hide her face when Vikkari’s attention fell on her. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to--I, um--” she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and tried again. “I think you’ve got somethin’ on your face.”

His laugh finally dislodged his butterfly mustache, which flew away in a decidedly irritated way.

The laughter faded, but lingered in his eyes and the warmth of his smile. “Did you need something?”

“Oh!” She shook her head a little too quickly, dropping her gaze to her hands for a second before it was pulled back to the commander. “No. I was just curious about your… your butterflies.”

Vikkari finally (reluctantly? Or was that just wishful thinking on her part?) looked away from her to the jovial swarm fluttering around him. “There do seem to be an awful lot of them.” He sounded more amused than bothered by them.

Etain hummed in agreement, watching the glowing insects in consideration. She could feel the moment Vikkari’s attention returned to her, but she resolutely didn’t look back, in case doing so would make her forget what they were talking about. “Are they illusions? A manifestation of the magic of Elysium?”

He nodded slowly, getting lost in thought for a moment, before he finally said, “Maybe they’re like Aivu. Real butterflies, drawn here by…” he paused, smile faltering, “whatever this power comes from.”

The urge to comfort him was almost overwhelming; Etain would say almost anything to bring that smile back. “Or they could be local. Maybe they just think you’re a very interesting flower.”

Half of his smile came back, a crooked smirk that would look cocky on someone less charming. “Because I’m so pretty?”

“Because you’re sweet.”

A dazzling smile lit Vikkari’s face as an equally radiant blush spread across his cheeks. Her own cheeks flushed in response, and she ducked her head to hide it behind her half-unraveled braid.

Her eyes fell on her knapsack, and a sudden thought struck her. “Sweet,” she murmured to herself, an idea forming.

“What was that?” Despite his obvious curiosity, Etain knew he wouldn’t push if she didn’t want to share.

“May I try something?” She waited for him to nod before reaching for her bag, and dug around until she found a small bottle of amber liquid. The gentle pop of the stopper drew Pippin’s attention from dozing by the fire, but she ignored him and let a couple of drops from the bottle fall onto the back of her hand.

As soon as she held it out toward Vikkari, two butterflies changed trajectory to inspect, landing on her knuckles and flexing their wings with what could only be excitement.

Vikkari leaned closer, golden eyes glowing brighter in echo of the insects’ reaction. “What is that?”

Etain shrugged one shoulder, careful to keep her hand still. “It’s just honey.”

Eventually, the butterflies ate their fill and flew off to join the rest again--though they gave a little more respectful distance this time, she noticed.

Vikkari watched them in something like awe. Etain watched him in much the same way.

“So they are real.”

“I guess so.” She held her hand out to her side where Pippin waited patiently to clean the rest of the honey off of her hand.

The conversation ended there, meandering to other subjects--the Crusade, Vikkari’s whittling--before Seelah, Lann, and Aivu came over to join them. But Etain thought about it the next day while they traveled, and the one after.

Inspiration finally struck two days later, while the group traveled a road that cut through the middle of heavy forest. Etain walked parallel to the group, mask up and bow drawn, scouting the woods for ambushes; Lann took the other side, doing the same, with the rest of their collection of melee fighters and magic users on the road.

She didn’t find any ambushes (it had been waiting a mile up, in the middle of the road in plain sight), but she did find something else.

She brought it to Vikkari after dinner that night, relishing his surprised look when she held out the bundle of flowers in her hands. “May I?”

It took him a few seconds to reply, which made something warm settle in her chest. She didn’t know the Commander could be lost for words.

Eventually, he nodded. “Of course.”

Etain carefully unfolded the flower crown and placed it on his head, arranging it carefully against his (soft, how is his hair so soft this far from civilization?) hair.

As she’d hoped, the butterflies immediately took interest, coming in to land on the flowers instead of swarming around his head. Within moments, he had a halo of glowing wings, green and blue lights among the orange, pink, and purple flowers.

“Aster, phlox, lavender, and butterfly weed,” she said in answer to the question he didn’t ask. “Hopefully that will keep them out of your eyes, at least.”

He grinned at her, brighter than the fluttering crown he wore. “How do I look?”

“You look…” she blushed and looked away, unable to answer honestly and unwilling to lie. “I’d offer to show you, but I don’t own a mirror.”

“Thank you.” His voice was too soft, too warm, and it just made her blush darker. As always, he was kind enough to give her an escape route from her own embarrassment, and changed the subject. “What are the rest of them for?”

“Oh.” Etain had almost forgotten that she still held an armful of flowers. “They’re for Aivu. May I?”

The question was directed at the havoc dragon, who lounged nearby. Aivu nodded eagerly before the question was even finished, and Etain smiled as she settled the larger flower crown on her head. “There. I thought you might like one too. So you can match.”

“Where’s yours?” Both the dragon and the cleric asked at the same time before exchanging a grin, a silent conversation flowing between them that she couldn’t even begin to understand.

“I don’t need one,” she said quickly. It’s not like she had a swarm of fae butterflies to deal with, and even so she wasn’t one to indulge in pretty things. (Except the Commander, a knowing voice whispered in the back of her head.) “And I didn’t want to pick too many anyway.”

Vikkari nodded, seemingly in agreement, but she could see the gears whirring behind his eyes. Etain knew she hadn’t heard the last of this.

Strangely, she found herself looking forward to finding out what happened next.

[queen-scribbles]

For the kiss prompts: "…on a place of insecurity" for whoever speaks up

Borrowing Etain from @haledamage bc this prompt SCREAMED her/Vikkari and the muses agreed. Very late Act 3, not long before storming the Midnight Fane.

---

Noble visits were the worst.

Etain struggled enough with the burden of command; having so many people look to her for guidance and protection was overwhelming after a life spent alone in the woods. But at least the soldiers and civilians didn’t seem to have any expectations on etiquette. Every so often, however, a noble from Absalom or Andoran or somewhere would show up--usually unannounced--because they wanted to see what was being done with their contributions.

Apart from their much higher standards on acceptable, delicate noblewomen with their flawless complexions and perfect posture did nothing to make Etain feel less ungainly. But it would be rude to turn them away, not to mention dangerous, with the demons all around. So she welcomed them as graciously as possible, and then did her level best to avoid them without being rude.

Duchess Safia was making that difficult. The woman was a social butterfly; outgoing enough to rival Seelah or Vikkari, chatty enough to keep up with Woljif or Nenio, and utterly uninterested in acknowledging she deemed an inferior. Which meant she only deigned to seek out Etain and occasionally Daeran or Camellia.

Etain took advantage of the opportunity presented by the latter to hide in the chapel. She’d found that unless they styled themselves as especially pious, nobles tended to avoid the provincial building. Duchess Safia was not a pious woman, making it a safe haven during her visit. An escape from her airy chatter, flawless, collected appearance, and diminutive stature that made Etain hunch even more than usual, tugging her mask up high over her nose.

The chapel was quiet today, empty save her and a single priest tending the candles scattered among the statues to various deities. Etain let her shoulders relax as she sank into a pew, half-lurking on the outer edge even mostly alone like this. Pippin settled himself in the aisle and started drifting off in mere seconds.

Why can’t they just leave me alone? Etain wondered, almost imploring, as she glanced at the statue of Iomadae, flanked by Erastil, Desna, Sarenrae, and others. Trust that I’m doing as needed and let me handle it? Showing up to watch over my shoulder just adds stress to a... calling that’s plenty hard on its own.

No answer came, not that she’d expected one in the moment.

Worrying about providing for my people, deploying armies correctly, making the right choices for running a damn city... She shifted and something dug into her thigh. I don’t know what I’m doing, I just try my best and having someone around who will judge doesn’t help- She slipped a hand in her pocket to find the pressure’s source and her fingers curled around a carved wooden bear.

A smile tugged her lips and she ran her thumb over the details of whittled fur.

“Etain?” As if summoned by her thoughts of him, a familiar voice sounded behind her. “Didn’t expect to see you here...”

“I’m hiding,” Etain said, hand still curled around the bear as she turned to watch Vikkari travel up the main aisle.

He paused, canted his head. “From everyone? ‘Cause I can leave.”

“No.” She shook her head with a quiet, almost nervous, chuckle. “You’re fine. I’m just avoiding the duchess.”

“Ah. Our latest noble guest.” He moved a pew past where she was sitting before sliding in to join her. “I was sparring with Seelah,” he explained with a laugh when she arched a brow at the choice. “Trying to spare you at least some of the fallout.”

Now that he mentioned it, Etain found she could see the sheen of sweat on his face, arms, and the portion of his chest visible with the loosely opened shirt. She pulled her gaze up from his collarbone to his eyes.  “The consideration is appreciated.” She smiled at the dirt smudged on his sleeve, cheek, and--it looked like--behind his ear.  “She win this time, or is this the price of victory?”

“The latter,” Vikkari laughed, “though it was very nearly a repeat of last time.” He saw where her gaze had gone and rubbed at the smudge on his face.

“So, is Lann next?” Etain asked lightly, half-joking, her grin hidden behind the mask. “If you’re fighting your friends?”

He snorted and shook his head. “He’d kick my ass. Prob’ly into next week. Seelah at least I have a chance; we’re pretty evenly matched.”

“It’s good you know your limits.” Her tone may have been teasing-adjacent, but that was a good--attractive--quality.

“Is that why you’re in here? Knowing your limits?”

Etain huffed a breath of a laugh. “More or less, I suppose.” She rolled the bear figurine in her hand, thumb running over the snout. “There’s enough stress to this position without doing it under the judgmental gaze of some fancy, flawless noble who’s never run a military campaign but is very concerned how you’re using her mon-”

“Etain.” She hadn’t realized she was tugging her mask ever-higher until Vikkari covered her hand with his to stop her. “It’s not right they do this to you; showing up out of the blue like you owe them something. You’re doing a good job. I know it’s hard, and not what you ever thought you’d be doing, but you are an excellent Commander.”

“I’m trying to believe that,” Etain muttered, her pulse fluttering as they sat with his hand over hers against the mask. He's hardly unbiased, her doubts whispered, but she shushed them.

“May I?” he asked quietly, and she gave a single nod, sitting frozen as he shifted the mask back to where it usually sat. His thumb brushed the scar down her cheek and she flinched. Vikkari winced. “Sorry, is that sensitive?”

She shook her head. She didn’t trust her voice right now. Not physically, anyway.

Understanding filled his eyes, which seemed to glow brighter, and he deliberately, gently, brushed his thumb over the scar again. “Flawless is overrated, I’ve found,” he murmured.

That was easy for him to say; the trio of scars that cut across the apple of his cheek only enhanced the angelic attractiveness somehow. Added a dash of the heroic to the sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. No one would ever see her scars as anything but mangling.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Vikkari’s eyes flickered and he leaned over the pew back to brush a soft kiss over the scar’s beginning at her temple, just over the corner of her eye.

Etain sat frozen, unsure how to react, her heart pounding in her chest and grip tight on the carved bear. This close she could smell the sharp tang of sweat he’d been trying to spare her from, but it barely registered.

Vikkari’s neck and ears had gone pink when he sat back. “I, um, I apologize if I overstepped, Etain,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I just... Anyone who sees that and thinks it detracts from who you are can’t have an opinion worth caring about.”

“I wish it worked like that,” she said with a sigh. She withdrew her hand from her pocket and braced both arms against the pew back. “Unfortunately, too much of our support comes from people  who like to gossip and measure worth by appearances. As long as I can convince them I’ll lead the Crusade well and spend their money wisely, it’s just something I’ll have to endure. You can’t stop it.”

“Well, since you are doing both of those things, hopefully it’ll be obvious to any noble visitors who drop in.” Vikkari squeezed her hand.

“Hopefully,” Etain said. It varied wildly from noble to noble, she’d found. “I think I’ll keep hiding in here a little longer, all the same.”

He laughed. “I’ll try to run interference if I see the current one looking for you.” He pushed to his feet. “Meeting Seelah for that drink. You’re welcome to join us, if you like.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promised.

Vikkari nodded and made his way out of the chapel, raising one hand in a brief wave of farewell just before he stepped out the door.

Etain pulled out the carved bear, turning it over in her hands. It was clear now, just as the first time she’d examined it, how much thought and care had gone into its creation. Because he was like that. And with such friends at her back, she’d do fine. No matter how many pushy nobles she had to endure.

She lightly brushed her fingers over the spot Vikkari had kissed.

Even if I don't think friend is quite the right word for one of them any more...

[queen-scribbles]

OC Kiss ~ Charm

(Etain/Vikkari; Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous) Borrowed another of @haledamage’s kids, for a romantic kiss this time 👀 This would be pretty late game, definitely post-Abyss, probably also post-Vikkari’s companion quest.

---

One thing about being an archer, it tended to give you a clear view of the battlefield. And Etain had been doing this long enough to notice all her friends’ little details in the chaos; the flourish Woljif sometimes gave with his daggers, Nenio’s fascinated and curious head tilt when they encountered something new. How many hits Seelah and Vikkari shook off. She didn’t catch everything, but she saw a lot.

Most wouldn’t consider this muddy gulch a battlefield in the typical sense, but with the slightly-against-them odds that’s what it felt like. Etain released an arrow toward a cultist, satisfied by the way his shoulder jerked back with the impact.

A distressed roar filled her ears and she immediately swiveled to look for Pippin. She found him just as the attacking smilodon sank its fangs into his shoulder. Pippin let out another roar and bit it in return. Etain nocked and fired two arrows in quick succession toward it before an aura of dark blue-white magic flared around the smilodon and it let go with an agonized yowl.

“Etain, watch out!”  

Vikkari’s warning gave her enough time to dodge the skeleton’s clumsy attacks. Even as she nocked another arrow, a blinding flash of light slammed down on the skeleton--and the two behind it. They were obliterated and Etain slightly dazed by the proximity, blinking spots out of her vision.

She looked to call thanks, found herself hollering a return warning instead.  “Watch out!”

The sorcerer he’d been closing in on before he got distracted rescuing her bear raised a hand, magic glowing soft on her fingertips as the spell poured from her lips.

Vikkari’s posture slackened, the blade of his falchion dipping until it lightly jabbed the tacky mud.

Etain’s shot hit the sorcerer a split second too late. She gave a pained scream as the arrow pierced her wrist, but the spell was already completed. Vikkari wasn’t moving, seeming heedless of the fight as he stood in a daze.

Seelah dodged around him with a yell and slashed at the wounded sorcerer. She cut a deep, vicious gash from hip to shoulder and the elven woman crumpled in a bloody heap.

There was too much going on for Etain to focus on him and she knew it. She still snuck glances in between shots at the remaining cultists, worried about whatever spell or charm the sorcerer had cast. It was persisting even with her dead, there wasn’t much that did that.

A cultist barbarian charged for what he must’ve seen as easy meat. Etain’s arrow sank into his neck half a breath before Pippin slammed him to the ground with a roar.

She tried not to be too vindictively glad when he practically bit the man’s head off. She was vaguely aware of Woljif finishing off another summoned skeleton, made herself focus to find the cultist who had summoned them, and put two arrows in his chest. The remaining few crumpled without their puppetmaster.

There was a faint ripple in the shadows cast by nearby boulders and a rogue, one of the last cultists standing, emerged to lunge at Seelah. She missed the paladin, but turned it into a slash at Vikkari. Target of opportunity, standing so close and not doing anything. Her strike was hasty and only just grazed his cheek, making him shy away with a cry of pain.

But that was all he did. No retaliation, just avoidance. He stumbled away from the rogue until Seelah finished her off.

They made short work of the couple left--no more heavy fighters, thank Sarenrae--and Etain beelined for Vikkari.

He was still standing in the same posture, falchion resting in the ground, small trickle of blood rolling down his cheek.

“Vikkari-” Etain cupped his face in both hands, studying him for any sign of what was wrong.

He was smiling. A vague, slightly dazed, almost euphoric expression tilting his lips upward. Without irises or pupils the only thing she could glean from his eyes was they remained the same softly glowing gold. No sign of what the sorcerer had done. He didn’t resist when she gave his head a gentle nudge to either side, checking for other hints and smearing away the blood on his cheek.

“Are you alright?” she asked, maybe with more intensity than she meant to.

“Mmhm,” Vikkari hummed, not appearing to notice when Pippin ambled up and nosed his arm. Instead he was staring at her as intently as she was at him.  “...Pretty eyes...”

Etain was glad for the mask that hid her flushing cheeks. “Can.. can you tell what kind of spell this is?” she asked Seelah, who had joined them as well.

Seelah shrugged. “Nothin’ bad? He just seemed whammied or charmed, not cursed.” Her eyes lit up and she nudged him with her elbow. “Hey, Vikk, who’s your best friend?”

Vikkari seemed about to answer, then shook his head and blinked. “Wh- ...I assume we won?”

Seelah huffed disappointment at the lost opportunity and shuffled away, but Etain’s wilting posture was in relief. Thank you, Sarenrae.

“Are you alright?” she asked again, hands resting on his shoulders.

He blinked a few more times, rubbed the side of his head. “...I think so? Just feel a little... off-bal-ow.” His fingers grazed the cut and he paused, feeling it more deliberately before leaving it unhealed. Not worth the magic for something so small. “Are you alright, Etain?”

She nodded, tugging down her mask. “In no small part thanks to you.” She leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, Vikkari.”

He shrugged, but she didn’t miss the pink shading up his neck and the tips of his ears. “What are knights in shining armor for?” he murmured, lingering close.

Etain chuckled and playfully kissed the tip of his nose. “Your dutiful service is appreciated, sir knight. And I’m sure Pippin would agree.”

As if he’d understood her, Pippin bumped his nose to Vikkari’s elbow.

Vikkari smiled and patted the bear’s head, golden light trailing to heal Pippin’s injuries. Pippin gave a ‘rrunf’ and licked up his arm as thanks.

“You’re welcome,” Vikkari laughed, giving him a quick, final scritch between the ears before turning back to Etain. “As are you, and I’m sorry if I worried you.”

She smiled and brushed her fingers through the wisps that had escaped his topknot. “You’re alright and that’s the important part,” she murmured, then kissed him in relief and gratitude anyway, sparing only a brief thought to hope none of their friends were paying attention.

He chuckled into the kiss, his hand cupped her neck as he shifted on his toes to make them more level. “If it helps,” he whispered, “I think that only took because I was distracted. I’m normally better at resisting.” There was a flash of teasing in his eyes. ”The only person I want charming me is you.”

Etain had to laugh at that, her forehead resting on his. “You are just...” Too many options came to mind, so she kissed him again instead.

He was laughing as he kissed her back.

[haledamage]

I was lucky to get the chance to commission @rayeliann for this beautiful piece of Etain and Vikkari 😍 they're so damn pretty, and even prettier together!

@queen-scribbles HAPPY CHRISTMAS, CAIT!! I am obsessed with these two and it's at least 70% your fault 🥰 Etain and Vikkari deserve all the romantic kisses in the snow

[haledamage]

so BG3 apparently takes place ~120 years after NWN2 does

but consider... WHAT IF... Etain and Tavi existed at the same time 👀

[haledamage]

I was re-tagged by @queen-scribbles to do this template with another pairing but then I made her work on it too by pestering her for Vikkari's answers 😁

open tagging anyone who wants to do it (or has already done it, but wants an excuse to do it for a different ship 😉)

[queen-scribbles]

Going slightly feral over the mental image of Vikkari pushing up on his toes to kiss Etain’s forehead jsyk