#ghilandruil

[zaahvi]

my final two evanuris designs, andruil and ghilan'nain! evil girlfriends <3 next up i'll be doing a few alternate outfits for some of the evanuris, and then the forgotten ones.

my other designs: dirthamen & falon'din • june & sylaise • falon'din ii • geldauran

design notes:

andruil was the trickiest to get a clear idea of so far - for most of the evanuris i already had a general idea of them in my head (mostly hair colour lol) except for andruil, so i just experimented a bit until i had an idea i vibed with. i almost gave her fully white hair but decided on this brown + white streak instead, which i think looks better and more unique!

a hunter's outfit felt most appropriate for andruil, in fact i honestly can't imagine her wearing anything else (she feels like the type to wear armour even to a formal event lmao) and it ofc had to be very detailed and ornate to show that she's not just a hunter, she's THE hunter >:) all the patterns are based on her vallaslin, with the exception of the cloak which is inspired by elgar'nan's sleeve things, the idea being that the shape of her original spirit form is embroidered on. her helmet is a mixture of the ancient elven helmets + whatever anaris has going on, i really like his twisted horns and wanted to do the same with andruil as her symbol also resembles horns :) also i imagine she has a little hole on the top of the helmet to let her ponytail through, because slay & also i love long hair and showing it off in my designs lol.

for ghil i decided to adapt her in-game design into her original elven form, because i really like her design in the game & wanted to stay faithful to it and it also makes sense that she would keep her armour after the transformation! (the breastplate doesn't quite fit her chest and shows her ribs on the sides, which i figured is because her ribcage expanded after her transformation, and the cloth bits are very weathered, indicating they're old.) i restored the cloth into nice flowy pieces of fabric, which i think nicely contrast with the pointy carapace-like armour. it makes her look intimidating but also very elegant! lastly i ofc gave her andruil's spear, as seen in the old da4 concept art (giant sea monster ghilly you will always be famous)

[thebestbobaflavour]

mothers of halla

[miladydewintcr]

happy thedas weekend!!!! i humbly requesting more andruil and ghilan'nain if you're feeling them 🙏 Maybe "oh, so now you care?" from the rivals (to lovers?) sentence starters 👀

Happy Thedas Weekend!!!! And thank you for this, I have No explanation for where it went but I hope you enjoy it? It started out as an exploration of how it might feel to be sick if you haven't always had a body, and then it um. well. they.

For @thedasweekend

Rating: M Ship: Ghilan'nain/Andruil Word-count: 1805

Triggers: slight gore; cannibalism references (flirtatious) I'm so sorry

For the most part, Andruil liked having a physical form. It was capable- she was capable- of doing a range of activities she’d really come to enjoy. If she was to wake tomorrow, a spirit once more, she would miss it. The ability to run, the wind in her hair, the sweet burn of fatigue after a sports session gone just a little too long.

It did, however, come with downsides.

Ghilan’nain didn’t seem to understand that Andruil was dying. Her nose was blocked up, she couldn’t breathe. She was exhausted, every fibre of every single muscle ached, she was cold and warm both at once, and she couldn’t even seek respite in sleep because whenever she laid her head down against her mountain of pillows, she choked on her own mucus.

“‘Tis an infection,” Ghilan’nain had said cheerily that morning, before abandoning her to perish alone surrounded by slaves. Something about needing to check on her progress. Andruil was beginning to regret having that laboratory built for her.

She swanned back into their shared bedroom that evening, a tray in her hands bearing a steaming bowl of soup. If she had her sense of smell, Andruil was sure she’d be able to pick up on the exact kind from across the room.

“Leave us,” Ghilan’nain ordered of the slaves that had been steadfastly caring for her all day. If she had the strength, she might’ve protested, but before she had chance to even attempt to wrestle one arm free of her nest of blankets, they had all already departed.

Ghilan’nain set the tray on the bed and sat down beside it, reaching out to rest a delightfully cool palm against Andruil’s forehead.

But Andruil was upset with her, cool palms be damned. And when she pulled away, clicking her tongue sympathetically, Andruil scowled at her.

A mere taste of her fury was enough for most people to cower in fear. But Ghilan’nain just laughed at her.

“Oh, you’re like a kitten,” she said, delighted, reaching out with one finger to tap the end of her nose. “A sweet little baby bird, all tucked up in her nest.”

“I have had people killed for less than this,” Andruil choked out, throat rasping.

Ghilan’nain tossed long, white hair over her shoulder and reached for the tray. “When you feel better, ma vhenan, you may kill me if you still wish it. Any way you like.” She said it with such lightness, so incredibly trusting, that if Andruil’s lungs still held the capacity to store air properly she was sure Ghilan’nain would’ve stolen it all away.

Their eyes met as Ghilan’nain steered a spoonful of soup towards her lips, and Andruil saw the mischievous twinkle there. She knew exactly the effect her words would have. The monster.

“Open up for me, baby bird,” Ghilan’nain said, the very picture of innocence.

Andruil nuzzled further beneath her blankets, leaving nothing but her eyes poking out, and hoped they were able to convey the depth of her rage.

“It’s….” Ghilan’nain scrunched her face slightly as she tried to recall. “Carrots, deer, onions, red wine, butter.” And then; “I didn’t make it, I had someone else do it. It should be quite safe.”

A blessing. Ghilan’nain knew her way around a carcass, she did not know how to properly cook one.

“I’m surprised you even cared enough to ask someone,” Andruil rasped, her mouth safely concealed beneath her blanket. There would be no feeding her like a baby bird. “I thought you were too busy for me today.”

Ghilan’nain, apparently conceding defeat, blew on the spoonful of soup before sliding it into her own mouth. She set it down on the tray and clasped her hands in her lap. “Andruil, I cannot neglect to care for my menagerie just because you are a bit under-the-weather.”

“I am not under-the-weather,” Andruil hissed. “I am dying. I feel like death.”

“And Elgar’nan was dying a week past, and June the one before that. It is making its way around, vhenan.” And then, with a sly little smile; “You’ll not be bested by something even Elgar’nan could fight through, surely?”

Andruil growled, even thought it made her throat burn, and was rewarded with more laughter.

“Come on, kitten, let me see those teeth,” she trilled, setting the soup bowl down in her lap and ladling the spoon up once again.

Glaring, Andruil tugged her blanket down just enough to settle the fabric beneath her chin. She bared her teeth, very pointedly keeping them clenched together.

“Vhenan, I work with animals,” Ghilan’nain said, lifting the spoon to her lips and blowing on it gently. “You will not outlast me in this.”

She was fortunate that Andruil’s bones all felt like they’d been replaced with lead, because how dare she? Andruil had been working with animals while Ghilan’nain was still prancing around in the Fade without tangible form.

As if she could read her mind, Ghilan’nain said calmly, “What you do is different. You don’t stalk baby birds through the forest and pounce on them.” She frowned slightly. “Or, you shouldn’t. They can’t fly yet, anyhow. It would be a rather dull chase I would imagine.” She gestured towards Andruil with her spoonful of soup. “‘Tis much more effective to sit, and wait. Maybe come with an offering of food…” She smiled hopefully.

Andruil rolled her eyes. The most frustrating thing was that all this was working. Maintaining her petulant glare, she opened her mouth.

She barely had a second to think before Ghilan’nain was shoving the spoon in. “I knew you would come around! What a good little baby bird you are.” Andruil growled as best she could around the spoon, and Ghilan’nain removed it with a grin. “My apologies. You’re a most terrible, ferocious beast. Of course.”

She was, and she did not appreciate the sarcasm in her beloved’s tone.

“I can see you are thinking such murderous thoughts, terrible beast,” Ghilan’nain said, scooping up another spoonful of soup and bringing it back to Andruil’s lips. “Get your strength back up, and then you can tell me all about them. How does that sound?”

The moment her mouth was free of the spoon once more, Andruil rasped out; “Going to make you into soup. Since you care so much for it.”

“A fascinating proposal,” Ghilan’nain said cheerily. “What kind?”

What… kind? “Liver?” she tried uncertainly.

Ghilan’nain hummed, satisfied, as she refilled her spoon, and Andruil found herself relaxing back against her fortress of pillows, opening her mouth without complaint this time. Too confused, and admittedly intrigued, to focus on arguing further.

“Of course, you might have to do some exploration if you go that route,” Ghilan’nain continued. “Given the placement of the liver. It’s rather in the middle of… well, everything else in there, isn’t it?”

Andruil wished it wasn’t so painful to laugh just then, because there was something about the juxtaposition between the very matter-of-fact way Ghilan’nain was piecing together the technicalities of having her own liver made into soup, and the delicate blush on her cheeks at such a prospect.

“I promise to be so careful when I move your intestines out of the way, vhenan,” she said, and then bit down on her lip to keep from smiling as she watched her blush spread.

“Yours are the only hands I would trust on my organs,” Ghilan’nain said- an honour of the highest degree. Her hand was shaking slightly as she returned it to the soup bowl, back to Andruil’s lips.

Andruil’s tongue darted out to catch the rivulet of soup that didn’t quite make it, as Ghilan’nain rushed in with her spoon, too, to stop it from venturing too far down her chin.

“Forgive me,” Ghilan’nain mumbled.

“Distracted?”

Ghilan’nain shot her an indignant look before filling her spoon once more. She did not respond.

Andruil’s sore throat wasn’t enough to keep the delighted, if croaky, laugh from escaping her. “Oh, I don’t even have to touch you!”

She watched, amused, as Ghilan’nain took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning back to face her.

“Are you-” she was cut off by the spoon being shoved roughly into her mouth, the metal scraping against her teeth in a way that made her spine twitch.

“Eat your soup,” Ghilan’nain all but ordered, removing the spoon, refilling it, and then shoving it back before Andruil had even properly processed the first mouthful. “Get better. I need you to get better. I am bored, and alone, and you are… You are making this very difficult, I am trying to be nice!”

It was all Andruil could do to finally wrestle one hand free, catching Ghilan’nain’s wrist as it tried to speed back to the soup bowl. “Calm down,” she said, as softly as her throat allowed her to. And then, because she couldn’t help herself; “There is no rush. I’ve all the time in the world to savour your soup.”

Ghilan’nain’s blush returned with full force. “That is the problem,” she hissed, eyes darting over Andruil’s face as she tried to decipher her mood. “Which you know,” she concluded, correctly.

“Forgive me, I’ve had nothing so entertaining as you in here all day.”

Ghilan’nain’s resolve softened immediately, and she reached over with her free hand to brush Andruil’s hair from clammy skin with her delightfully cool fingers. “Poor, sick kitten. Were the slaves not to your liking?”

“I’ve not wanted to be touched. Or spoken to. Or looked at. I’ve had them be quiet as mice for me today.”

Ghilan’nain’s hand flew to her mouth. “Should I be whispering?” she asked, in a whisper.

Andruil ran the pad of her thumb over the pulse in her wrist. “Just don’t scream at me and you’ll be fine. I’ll tolerate more from you than I would from most.”

“That should be easy enough. I doubt I shall have reason to scream until you are better.”

It was so swift that Andruil almost thought she must’ve misheard. But no, the self-satisfied little smirk on Ghilan’nain’s face was proof enough that she had not. “Because I will be cutting you open, of course,” Andruil ventured teasingly.

“Of course,” Ghilan’nain agreed, nodding just a little too enthusiastically to be very convincing.

“Peeling back your flesh, and so very gently lifting your intestines out of the way with the one hand, so that I’ve room to venture just barely up into your ribcage with the other….”

“This should not be working as well as it is,” Ghilan’nain mumbled quietly, mostly to herself. And then, with cheery optimism; “So you’ll eat the rest of your soup, then? Get your strength up?”

Andruil released her wrist and let her arm fall uselessly at her side. “Provided you don’t expect me to chirp at you for it.”

Ghilan’nain pinched her nose affectionately. “Kitten it is.”

[hyperions-light]

OOOOOOH, that’s so GOOD

Insane about it tbh

Love the implication of like the shelter/sheltered here, and the incorporation of the animal themes, for them

And ‘burrowing beast’ is such excellent alliteration here, love it!

Thanks for sharing + tagging!

Last Line Game

Was tagged by @crabs-with-sticks. Thank you friend!

Rules: Post the last line you wrote of one of your current WIPS and tag as many people as there are words.

From "Domestication Hymns", Andruil/Ghilan'nain backstory for Mien'Harel:

She wishes to be the thing crawled into, not just the burrowing beast.

Tagging: @darethshirl @broodwoof @hyperions-light @dreadfutures @queenaeducan / @queenaeducan-writes @biancasbow @nixeofmidgard @theshirallen @heliomanteia @oldxenomorph @captainskells @rosella-writes @ammoniteflesh and @vaguely-concerned.

[scribeofmorpheus]

I know the writers dismissed this theory (and many fans were luke-warm in their reception of it), but I so desperately want them to make Sera a fragment of Andruil's soul that went mad from the Armour of the Void. Imagine if Sera's "I picked up a bow and just knew how to use it; either the shot struck true or it didn't" mentality towards being a skilled archer had something deeper there... something inert and ancient in her instincts. And Solas' "you are not whole" meant more too, like he was referring to a shafted soul, something perpetually unbalanced. And then imagine if, through her, like Flemeth was for Mythal, and Morrigan thereafter too, Sera could be our entryway to the greatest sapphic ancient elven story of all time. Blighted god of the hunt and her mad scientist girlfriend? Ghilan'nain somehow earning Elgar'nan's respect while trying to sate Andruil's hunger by making beasts she can hunt? The both of them trapping Fen'Harel for years? Somehow involving Anaris in this? crazy levels of drama in this! but i think Sera is firmly retired from da.

[requiemforthestars]

Wow! Solas STAYS a homophobe! God forbid a lesbian does anything istg. He cannot handle complex female characters...

[wenamedthedogkylo]

Something something the symbolism of Ghilan'nain physically looking similar to Andruil's vallaslin, further emphasizing their connection and convincing me of the DA ttrpg's claim that the two were lovers. Happy pride to Ghilandruil, hope we get to see Ghil trying to free her gf.

[broodwoof]

I need to write more ghilandruil too......

[thebestbobaflavour]

YES YES YES GHILANDRUIL CRUMBS

I obviously love Ghilan'nain too much for just how evil the games portray her as.... But also like....

Was she innocent once? Was her craftminship and creation once a thing of love and beauty? Did her hands once mold things for the heart?

Imagine a young, more innocent her, seeing and falling immediately in love with Andruil. A newly born elf, already far from the line of Evanuris, but still she admires from afar. In vain hope, she starts making things for the great huntress. At first it's simple things, like Halla and boars, bears and giant nugs, for the great and beautiful Andruil to chase and hunt to her hearts desire. And then, seeing the joy it brings her misbegotten love, she just keeps making, just keeps going, every creature more and more monstrous, all just for the attention of the one she loves and admires. Until one day Andruil comes to her herself, asking for the very creatures she has made. And the very thing she had hoped for from the very beginning happens, they fall in love.

Andruil hunts take them further and she gets ever stronger, always helped by the mother of monsters. Until she goes too far. More and more nights Andruil returns, reeking of rot, reeking of blight. She tells Ghilan'nain tales of great beasts, her own creations which were twisted and corrupted by the red. She brings more and more of it home, bringing it to her love so she can make even more glorious beasts.

Ghilan'nain loves her, how can she say no? Bigger, stronger, quicker, more. There is no end to her loves desires, not until the blight itself turns into putty in her hands.... But then.... It's too late isn't it..... Her love has changed.... Corrupted by the very things she made her....

[zaahvi]

rewatching those last 30 seconds of the gameplay for the millionth time and i've noticed something about ghil that i haven't seen pointed out yet:

check out that mass of (flesh? tentacles? idk) at the bottom - in the first pic you can clearly see a hand there! and in the second- a bit harder to see because of the lighting- the entire arm and shoulder, and what looks like the rest of a torso? guys???? who the fuck is that, does she just have another body, or did she merge with someone, who? why? was it before or after the evanuris got locked away? is it another one of them? someone else? i think i need to lie down

[thebestbobaflavour]

With broken ribs

And one last kiss

I would die here warm

What a lovely hiding place

That you have made

To delay our parting

What a world outside

To keep each other safe from

That's all that I want, darling

-

i promise one day i'll draw something else but currently i have this toxic yearning demon and a fucking depression. i need my serotonin so doomed yuri it is

[miladydewintcr]

happy thedas weekend!!!! for Ghilan'nain and Andruil, maybe a kiss to give up control from the kiss prompts? if you're inspired!

Thank you so much for this, because I immediately felt like there was a clear direction to take it, and it's something I said I wanted to practice writing.

I'm not entirely sure what to count as a trigger here and what to just count as, like, a feature. So I'm just gonna do tags!

Rating: E Ship: Ghilan'nain/Andruil Word-count: 905

bondage, rope-play, edging, some light choking

For @thedasweekend

Ghilan’nain gave the ropes around her wrists another experimental tug, but they remained firm. With a frustrated huff, she let her eyelids flutter shut and tried to focus her hearing on Andruil’s movements, which were being kept very deliberately and pointedly out of her range of vision.

“Patience, da’ghil,” Andruil said from somewhere to the left of her. She heard the rustle of parchment.

“Are you reading?” Ghilan’nain hissed.

“Shh.” An invisible hand brushed against her cheek, vanishing quickly. There was just the slightest, most taunting hint of pressure between her legs before that wave of magic, too, disappeared, and Ghilan’nain groaned.

“I’ve much to do, vhenan,” Andruil said casually. “Many people look up to me. You wouldn’t want me to let them down, would you?”

“You’re letting me down right now.” Ghilan’nain took a deep breath, and then added in her most pleading little voice; “I thought I was your favourite.”

“You are,” Andruil said, not rising to the bait. “Which is why you’re in my bed right now.”

“Alone,” Ghilan’nain pouted.

The magic tendrils returned, caressing their way up her bare legs, stopping just shy of where she wanted them. “Alone, are you?” She could hear the smirk in her voice, and it infuriated her. It infuriated her more just how badly it made her want her.

“Terribly,” she confirmed, gasping as the tendrils moved higher.

“That must be awful for you, I’m sure.” Andruil teased her for a bit longer before Ghilan’nain felt the mattress dip. The magic was dispelled once more, leaving her just shy of satisfied, and Andruil sat just out of her reach. “Would you have me end your torment, ma vhenan?”

They had played this game enough times now that Ghilan’nain knew the options before her well. Despite her clear advantage, Andruil was, in her way, putting the reins firmly in Ghilan’nain’s hands. She could be stubborn, and Andruil would tease her some more; and some days, that was what she wanted from her. She could be good, and answer her questions so obediently, that Andruil would probably have mercy on her and finish things off quickly.

Or she could be devious. She rarely chose this path, but she’d been waiting for hours at this point, and in the mood for a little bit of revenge.

“Please,” she whined. “Touch me, Andruil, please.”

Fingers ghosted up the inside of her leg- her actual, real fingers this time, and Ghilan’nain almost burst into tears from the sheer relief of it. “Perhaps if you beg me for it.”

If she could, Ghilan’nain would’ve bolted upright. “Have I not already begged?”

“Not enough to please me.”

She considered for a moment before deciding to be daring. “Won’t you at least come up here? Let me look my incredibly vicious captor in the eye.”

For a moment, she thought her request might’ve backfired, as Andruil stopped tracing patterns into the inside of her thigh. But then her lover was placing a hand on the mattress beside her head, looking down at her with a hunger that stole Ghilan’nain’s breath away. “I’m here, da’ghil. Beg for me.”

Before she could second-guess herself, Ghilan’nain lifted her head, closing the short distance between them with a kiss.

Andruil pulled back abruptly. “This is not begging.”

“Isn't it?”

She looked unconvinced, but even so she leaned back in. Ghilan’nain let her believe she had control of the kiss, pushing her back against the mattress, her free hand coming up to apply just the slightest hint of pressure at Ghilan’nain’s throat. She sighed into it, arched her back, everything she would usually do. It all came easily, because just as she knew Andruil’s mind well and her body better, Andruil knew hers, too.

And then Ghilan’nain lifted her bound hands swiftly, looping them around to bring them down against the back of Andruil’s neck.

Andruil froze.

Ghilan’nain waited, exhilarated, scared but not truly.

As best she could, Andruil pulled away, their noses touching. “Explain yourself.”

A giggle erupted out of Ghilan’nain’s lips and, despite herself, Andruil couldn’t help but smile at her.

“You are such a little minx, do you know that?” She was trying so hard to be stern, it was truly commendable. “What exactly is your plan here?”

“I think, maybe, it’s my turn to be in charge?”

Andruil raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Ghilan’nain hummed happily.

“You do realise I can escape from this hold quite easily, don’t you?”

No longer constricted by such things as rules and behaving herself, Ghilan’nain lifted her leg, trailing her foot up Andruil’s calf, her thigh, before wrapping herself around her hips. “But why would you want to?”

Andruil rolled her eyes, exasperated, fondly. Quick as a flash, her hands were around Ghilan’nain’s wrists, she was ducking back out of her hold, and sitting upright on the bed. “Alright then,” she said, releasing Ghilan’nain’s hands only to grab her shoulders and roll them both sideways.

Ghilan’nain gazed down at her from her new position, straddling Andruil’s hips, and smiled triumphantly as Andruil lay back against the bed and lifted her own hands up above her head. “My turn,” she said with pride, rocking her hips in search of just the slightest bit of friction.

“Your turn,” Andruil agreed. “Do you need me to release your hands?”

“Absolutely not,” Ghilan’nain said. “What makes you think I should need them? I’ve yours.”

From beneath her, Andruil laughed. “True enough.”

[gxldencity]

Sorry for the discord screenie bc this is where I got it but even in this story there's ghilandruil (is that their ship name??) hints

This is also funny that this is being told by Felassan when Solas has a whole yuri painting of them

And the way he spoke of their rs in the codexes of veilguard is

That lore about andruil keeping solas as a sex slave isn't real to me bc andruil is busy scissoring ghilan'nain to even bother with solas so sorry to whoever invented that (felassan rip)

[thebestbobaflavour]

they are so tragic alexa play triassic love song by paris paloma

[thebestbobaflavour]

i see them everywhere your honor

[miladydewintcr]

from the regency-inspired prompts: "full stables, with multiple high quality horses halla and a sickly old horse halla kept for sentimental reasons" for ghilan'nain (and possibly andruil) AND/OR "i'll go through this so we have a chance. it's a risk worth taking." from the sacrifices sentence starters prompts, for the Stolen Throne gang (hell yeah! fellow stolen throne fan!)

Woo high-five!! So both of these prompts were incredible, thank you <3 I um, wrote both. I'm gonna post the first one here, and queue up the second one in a seperate post so they don't get muddled? (I'll tag you in it ofc!)

For @thedasweekend

tw: animal death

Rating: T Ship: Ghilan'nain/Andruil Word-count: 819

translations:

da'ghil - little teacher/guide (used here as a pet name)

vhenan - heart (also used as a pet name)

Killing the halla was not an option. In fact, when Andruil suggested it, Ghilan’nain had left her with deep, welting scratches on her arms, chest, face, in a rage.

Andruil had eventually been able to catch her hands, wrapping her in a tight hug that also, conveniently, pinned her arms to her sides, and whispered soft words into her hair until she calmed down.

“The offer is there,” she’d told her when she finally felt able to let her go.

“I won’t need it,” Ghilan’nain hiccuped, her eyes red and her cheeks streaked with tears.

Andruil had responded by wiping her tears away, and pointedly not agreeing or disagreeing with her sentiment.

It was hard for her. Andruil was a killer at the best of times, and allowing a wounded or sickly animal to continue living seemed impractical to her. The creature was suffering. It was no use to anybody. And it was going to keep using up resources- food, medicine, Ghilan’nain’s time- that could be better placed elsewhere.

Still, she found it hard to deny Ghilan’nain anything, especially when she pleaded. She could wait this out, she was sure.

Ghilan’nain took to sleeping in the stable, curled up at the back of the sick halla’s stall. Andruil had someone bring her food for the first few weeks and, then, started to bring it herself, just so that she could see her. Because otherwise she wouldn’t; Ghilan’nain refused to leave the sickly beast alone for even a moment.

Andruil was not a worrier, not usually. But she did stay and watch and make sure than Ghilan’nain actually ate the food brought to her each day, because it wouldn’t do to have her most favourite person starve.

Then she’d have two sick creatures in her stable to deal with.

Despite all Ghilan’nain’s efforts, all her attention, the halla continued to wither.

“I could make it quick,” Andruil suggested one evening. “One arrow, straight through the eye.”

Ghilan’nain shot her a look, the fingers running over the halla’s flank clenching into a tight fist atop its wool, and Andruil knew that, were its weary head not currently resting in her lap, she would currently be on the receiving end of more vicious scratches.

“She is my creature,” Ghilan’nain said, voice shaking. It was clear to Andruil that she was fighting to keep her volume down lest she spook the beast in question. “I made her. I raised her. I will not let her die.”

“Sometimes, I don’t think it’s a question of letting things die, vhenan.”

Ghilan’nain tossed her hair, and huffed.

Not a week after that exchange, Ghilan’nain met her at the stall door for the first time. The halla lay on the floor behind her, its breathing erratic.

“Fetch your sister for me,” Ghilan’nain said, almost frantic, reaching for Andruil’s hands and lacing their fingers together.

Recognising this comfort-seeking behaviour for what it was, Andruil tugged one hand free to pull her into a hug, smoothing her palm against the back of Ghilan’nain’s head. “What has happened?”

“I think you were right, and I would end her with herbs.”

Andruil mouthed a silent blessing to the ether before pulling back to look Ghilan’nain in the eye. “You are certain?”

She nodded. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet and splotchy, and Andruil suspected she had already agonised over this decision for hours. “Tell Sylaise to bring her most poisonous concoctions. Something quick.” She turned to look at the sickly creature over her shoulder. “I would have her fall asleep, I think, and just fail to wake up.”

Andruil squeezed her hand. It would be easier still, she thought, to just shoot it. Certainly quicker. But the halla were Ghilan’nain’s, and her decision was all that mattered. “I will fetch her immediately. Will you be alright on your own?”

Ghilan’nain nodded. She was trembling like a leaf, and Andruil was reluctant to leave her alone, if only for a short while.

She leaned in to press a kiss against her forehead. “This is the right decision, da’ghil. I am proud of you.”

Ghilan’nain shook her hands out, as though she could dislodge the anxiety from her body with the movement. “Be quick?” she pleaded.

“Count the seconds.” She wiped Ghilan’nain’s cheeks with the pad of her thumb, and then turned and rushed towards her eluvian.

When she returned, hurrying Sylaise along with an assortment of glass bottles in her arms, Ghilan’nain had gone to sit at the back of the stall, a soothing hand resting against her halla's side.

She looked up, met Andruil’s eyes. “One thousand and seventeen,” she said softly.

It took Andruil a moment to realise she had been literally counting down the seconds. And despite the sincerity of the situation, the grief already hanging thick in the air, she couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head fondly as she ushered a confused Sylaise into the stall.