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sorceresssundries · 6 months ago

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Giveaway Piece <3

So, to celebrate 500 followers I did a little giveaway, which @littlelostmabari won!

I offered to write whatever she liked (within reason) and she had the lovely idea of snippets of her and her bestie's Tavs post-game, after completing their co-op play through together. So, this is the little tale of Enlee and Felendaera, and their ever-enduring friendship

It is early morning in Waterdeep, and Gale and Enlee are entwined together in that last precious hour of sleep. Their heads are full of waking birdsong and the wisps of soon-to-be-forgotten dreams. No tadpole. No quests. Just them, in their tower, with Tara purring contentedly and stretching out her paws at the foot of their bed.

Their home, the centre of their universe, is lighter now they live there together; more windows have been added, and sunbeams flood in to wash away the settled shadows of long-lost loneliness. Stacks of books now have plants balancing atop them, their tendrils coiling down to brush against well-loved pages. The scent of blooming flowers mingles with the faint aroma of parchment and ink.

In one corner of the room, a desk stands by a large window that overlooks the bustling city below. The desk is cluttered with arcane scrolls, ink pots, and worn quills. Amidst the organised chaos lies an opened letter, its parchment glowing softly in the morning light.

Dearest Enlee,

Your letters bring me comfort and warmth in places where light doesn’t always reach. Astarion and I have been busy, leading the freed spawn through the Underdark and stomping out all kinds of vicious creatures. We came across an unusually large group of nothics at one point which almost got the better of us; luckily, they were no match for the paladin and her vampire. We may have gotten lost several times, a few times, once or twice, but that’s all part of the adventure!

We have been following the legends of artefacts, potions, or even spells that will once again grant Astarion the ability to walk in sunlight. He says if he can also find one that grants me eternal life, that would be a wonderful bonus… we’re working on it.

After finding a (very boring) book on vampiric history, we learned of a rumoured cure for sunlight sensitivity. We managed to track down the author, a 600-year-old monster hunter who had dedicated his life to learning the intricate details of vampirism. Unfortunately, he turned out to be kind of a dick and attempted to attack Astarion, so I DID end up killing him. Understandable, I'm sure you’ll agree. Astarion was furious; and called me a ‘sexy, head-bashing lunatic’. I stand by my decision.

Anyway, Astarion wasn’t too mad to loot his corpse and found a few interesting clues as to where we should continue our adventure. We found a map, old and tattered, but still legible, pointing to a forgotten temple deep within the Underdark. According to the notes we deciphered, the temple is said to house a relic known as the Sunstone, a gem that holds the power of daylight. If the legends are true, it could be the key to Astarion’s freedom from the shadows.

The journey ahead promises to be perilous. The path to the temple is fraught with ancient traps and guarded by creatures of darkness. Yet, the prospect of giving Astarion the gift of sunlight fills me with a purpose I have not felt in a long time. I fight for him now, and for our long and happy future. I would fight the will of the sun itself if it meant granting him the life he deserves.

The two of us are growing stronger together with each challenge we face, and every quiet moment in between. We’ve learned to rely on each other in ways neither of us expected.

We will press on, guided by the hope that someday, we will stand together with you again in the light of day, and my cheeks will be warmed by sunshine and the laughter you always gifted me. I’ll write to you again soon, my dear friend. Until then, know that your words keep me going in the darkest of times.

Love always,

Felendaera

In a distant, glowing corner of the Underdark, Astarion and Felendaera are indulging in a sliver of welcome rest before their adventures continue. The pale elf carefully stitches together some of his beloved’s clothing, which has been ripped by one monstrous creature or another, whilst Felendaera rests with her head on his lap, reading a map of where they have been so far, and where their journey has yet to take them.

Mushrooms of varying colours and sizes cling to the face of a towering rock face above them, so high it is impossible to see the top. The pale blue light from the closest mushroom gleams against Astarion’s ashen skin, making him look even more corpse-like than usual. Felendaera longs for him to be bathed in light that warms him, and often thinks back to their days under the summer sun. She remembers how he’d turn his face to the sunlight like a flower drinking in sustenance or how, when they stopped to rest a while, he would always manage to find a spot in the brightest light, like a cat following a patch of sunshine that moves with the hours.

Their camp is a small glimmer amidst the vast darkness. A soft, worn blanket is spread beneath them, and their tent, pitched nearby, is barely a refuge from the dangers of the Underdark. Inside the tent, the remnants of their last looting frenzy are neatly packed away, and a lantern with a faint, magical glow casts gentle shadows on the canvas walls.

In the corner of the tent, a letter lies open atop a neatly folded cloak. Its edges are slightly worn, suggesting it has been read many times. The parchment is adorned with the familiar, flowing script of an old friend…

Dear Felendaera,

I hope you are keeping safe on your adventures. I think of you often and miss you always. Life has been a lot quieter since we last saw each other, but I am settling into life with Gale and finding joy in the quiet heartbeat of a well-loved home—a new concept for me.

The tower has been in a bit of disarray since I moved in. Gale continues to be very patient with my… intuitive… wildshape transformations. Recently, I thought there was an intruder and, as a completely understandable reaction, turned into an owlbear—a protective reflex, I guess. Anyway, I broke the bed. And some shelves… and the floor. It turned out it was just Gale’s mirror image doing the washing up. Luckily, he found it quite funny; Tara did not.

Tara has warmed up to me, although she still does not have much patience for my cat form. She thinks I am being ‘contemptuous’ when I meow at her during her complaints about me to Gale.

“Mr. Dekarios! Your partner is leaving hairs all over MY favourite sunspot again!”

“MR. DEKARIOS, Your live-in love interest has eaten MY fresh salmon! Please keep her meals separate from mine. I am not used to sharing, and my tolerance levels are diminishing at an ever-increasing rate. If she scares away the pigeons I have been patiently lulling into a false sense of security, I will be forced to serve her a notice of eviction.”

I think she likes me.

It was a struggle at first to adapt to city life. The scents and sounds are strange, and the people are often dishonest and rude, but together we’ve figured out a way to bring nature to the tower.

Vines now wrap round its bricks and bloom flowers in all shades of blues and purples, birds nest in the rafters and sing their morning songs out to the sea. There is a garden, where plants grow fruits and vegetables for Gale to cook in our blissful evenings. He has introduced me to other druids within the city, and we often travel to the Ardeep Forest and meditate at the Green Glade and camp under the stars at the Dancing Dell. Here, I am free to run, swim and fly in whatever shape my soul shifts into, but I always fly back to Gale. Back to my home.

Gale is a born teacher. He often tests his lessons out on me, and my magic usage has become much more refined. I can’t really sit still long enough to focus on a book, and all the long words are very boring. But sometimes, after listening to Gale, when the weave feels bright and familiar, I can smell the rosewater and taste its sweetness on the tip of my tongue. It moves through me as though it’s a strong autumn breeze, and I am made of leaves.

I can wield sharp purple magic I never accessed before, only for a few moments, when the weave sparks across my fingertips - and I have never felt stronger.

One day i’ll be powerful enough to craft illusions and mirror images the way Gale does, and then i’ll meet you in all our favourite places. I’ll create stained-glass monasteries, and summer warmed campsites, and even the highest points of the city where we can sit on rooftops with our legs swinging and watch the world go by.

I hope you are happy. I hope you are loved. I know you are the sunshine that Astarion has been missing and that you warm his days, just as you warmed mine.

I miss you my friend, and will write again soon.

Ruffle Astarion’s hair for me. He’ll hate it.

Love always,

Enlee

In both of these places, - one high above and the other down below, another letter sits curled and opened. Two twins, identical in every way.

The frail script, although recently written, feels ancient and hallowed.

Esteemed Guests,

It is with great reverence and peculiar delight that I extend this invitation to a gathering most deserved.

In a tenday’s time, there shall be tales of valour shared and goblets raised to fallen allies. We shall convene at the place where camp was first found, where strangers became comrades.

Come as ye are, and know that the bounds of the living and the departed shall blur, and all shall find solace and camaraderie within these sacred celebrations.

May this be a night to seal the bonds forged in battle, to cherish the echoes of past deeds, and to cast an eye towards adventures which may yet call for your valour...

Thy journey doth continue, the dice must roll again.

With regards and curiosity,

Your loyal scribe.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfic

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