#keldae

[greyias]

Pumpkin and rose ;)

You guys are just going to keep putting rose in my askbox until I unironically accept it, aren't you? 😂

[nattikay]

all my sonas

[pratchettquotes]

"I hear that goblins believe that the railway engines have a soul, elf," she said softly. "Tell me, what kind of soul have you? Do you run along your own elvish rails? With no time or place for turning?" She looked at the kelda and said, "Granny Aching told me to feed them that was starving and clothe them as is naked and help the pitiful. Well, this elf has come to my turf--starving, naked pitiful--do you see?"

The kelda's eyebrows rose. "Yon creature is an elf! It has nae care for ye! It has nae care for anyone--it disnae even care for other elves!"

"You think then there is no such animal as a good elf?"

"Ye think there is such a thing as a gud elf?"

"No, but I am suggesting that there is a possibility that there might be one."

Terry Prachett, The Shepherd's Crown

[hernakedmuse]

Sigtryggr x Uhtred's Daughter Headcanons Part I

Disclaimer: She is Uhtred and Gisela's daughter, a year older than Stiorra. Because of this I don't see the harm in naming her instead of calling her 'y/n', because I doubting 9th century times of Saxons and Danes with Dane parents she will be named Ashley or Cameron or Soledad, most of these languages didn't even exist yet.

With that rant aside, I am giving her the Norse name Kelda, and because she is Uhtred and Gisela's daughter she's going to resemble them.

Kelda is the oldest child of Uhtred and Gisela

When their mother left for Valhalla she took on the maternal role.

She looks after her father because he cannot look after himself when it comes to eating and getting enough sleep.

She encouraged Young Uhtred's dream of following the path of the nailed God, and was always trying to convince her father he must be supportive, and that he has that rebellious nature he inherited from him, and being a Rebel in this family means being a Christian

As much as she wanted to smother Stiorra for whining and complaining about being stuck with the children and in hiding, she refrained and understood how frustrating it could be. She prayed to Snotra at least ten times a day for guidance and wisdom.

She needed Stiorra though, for she's more of a warrior than Kelda.

Stiorra does what sisters do and taunt Kelda, saying she's too soft for a Dane and they would never want a flowery wife, Claiming she's better for a Saxon man.

Kelda rolled her eyes but she did worry.

She spends many time in the forest, worshipping the the huldrefolk, the skogsrå, Freya, and the nature deities. Often found dancing ritual circles outside, often naked.

She is very beautiful but doesn't see it herself, a womanly soft figure she resents, wanting to be petite like Stiorra like her mother was. Her breasts could hardly ever even be confined by her dresses.

And how she wished her hair were smoothe like silk like Stiorra and her mother.

Instead wild curls that tangled down to her wide hips was what Kelda possessed. A golden brown color amd usually adorn with flowers or prettily plaited. She washed it everyday with a lye soap she made with mint and lavender herbs, the lye is what caused her light brown hair to have a goldness to it. She would bathe in honeysuckle oil water she made as well and wash her face four times a day with chamomile soap and water. She dedicated these grooming times and beauty spells to Freyja.

Stiorra felt it to be silly and vain of Kelda, but these routines kept her constantly tumultuous life going, to being Uhtred's daughter, a little sane.

Kelda sewed herself dresses usually a similar color to cornflower, it was as her favorite as well as earthy blush tones, all made her hair color more pronounced, looked lovely against her sun-kissed skin (since she was always outside), made her very fully rosy lips appear more rosy, and her warm doe brown eyes appear almost golden.

She used to be very fond of Finan, and would learn Gaelic from him , but when she became older she realized how silly she was and felt nothing for him but familial love.

When she, Lady Aelswith, Stiorra, and Aethelstan were kidnapped, she was very afraid but only for the others not herself.

She vowed to do anything to protect them.

The stares of Haestens men did make her weary though, the way they'd comment on her sweet smell or her soft hair, or comment on her breasts. Stiorra squeezed her hand when she saw her sister tear up in fear of being taken by force.

But miraculously the journey to Winchester, or what was left of it, she was unharmed they all were.

When they arrived, she felt ill of the wild pregnant shieldmaiden, the Goddesses warned her she could feel it. But she stood in front of Stiorra and Aethelstan protectively looking brave and showing no weakness.

Catching the eye of the warlord, Lord Sigtryggr of Ireland.

His icy blue eyes had the most difficult time removing from this maiden who was obviously Freyja herself in the flesh.

He looked stoic to all in the room but all he could think of focus on, was how well her developed body filled out her torn blue dress, looking like a tempting huldrakall with her thick blood colored lips beckoning him like a spell, wild and beautiful goddess like hair with a color that reminded him of the sun lighting the earth, wanting to smell the locks. He looked into her wide, innocent eyes, lidded with long eyelashes and a pretty dark shade of the earth. Her cheeks are round and rosy despite her sun-kissed skin and Sigtryggr hardly recognized himself, for no maiden has ever made him feel this way. Unable to breathe, forgetting his plan and reason.

Brida demanded them to prove that they are Danes and asked the other girl who Frigga's handmaiden is, he was impressed with her correct answer proving her Dane heritage. She insulted the beauty and called her a Saxon outright. But she surprised Sigtryggr and all in the room when her sweet, soft voice spoke back with firmness. "I am a Dane like my sister, I worship Frigga and Freyja, I dance in midsommar for Sól and braid flower wreaths, I give myself to Freyja's Magick, pray at her alter. And right now I look to Snotra for guidance!"

His heart never raced so fast, and Brida seemed to recognize the girls claiming them to be the Dane-Slayer's children.

Brida wanted to throw the beauty to the men but Sigtryggr didn't let her, calmly demanding her presence with him.

Little did he know, she too could hardly take her eyes off of him as well.

[canadiananimatorguy]

Kelda - Waterfalls 🌊

Birthday gift for the one and only @akai-riot! This is his OC.

[comicwaren]

From Captain America Vol. 11 #015, “And a Town Shall Rise”

Art by Jesús Saiz and Matt Hollingsworth

Written by J. Michael Straczynski

[fairy-spring]

fuck it lemme just post some of my worms while I'm here

[dyzzythedemon]

Some doodles I've made over this month, enjoy!

[the-gay-comic-historian]

“I am immortal. So I’ll feel immortal pain…”

Kelda the Norse goddess of the Storm

[witchoflegends]

@thelxberatxr gets a thing cause we talked about them last night

"Hello?" Kelda called into the foyer of the Sanctum. It was an odd building, but she could sense the magic coming off the stone itself. She wondered what secrets this place held, but that wasn't why she was here. "I'm looking for someone, and I was told that I would find help here." She had seen her brother die with her own eyes, but there were rumors around New Asgard that Loki had escaped death yet again. That he was hiding away. She wanted to bring him home.

[higherentity]

[catt-nuevenor]

Modern Setting - Kelda and Keldan

I stand upon the jetty, my torch in hand, and try and burrow myself deeper into my coat.

"Does it have to be tonight?" I ask. It's an effort to keep my teeth from chattering.

Kelda/Keldan doesn't look up. "Yes."

They're adjusting something to do with the rigging, a winch or pulley or something around which the heavy rope is secured. The beam from my torch trembles as the damp cold of the marsh seeps into my fingers.

That draws their attention. They take in my miserable form, bundled up in a winter coat so thick that it makes turning my head a cumbersome negotiation, my nose and eyes already streaming as the icy night air digs in.

They've been planning this for a while, checking reports and conditions every morning and every evening, tutting and muttering to themselves as they disapprove of what nature has thrown our way.

It has to be tonight.

"Do you want to go home?" Kelda/Keldan asks, rising from their crouch over the rigging. It's open and honest, there's no blame, no accusation to the question, and I know they'll accept whatever answer I give.

The thought of the warm fire and a steaming mug of tea or chocolate is a cruel temptation, one that almost wins out. But this is important to them, so I shake my head, burrow deeper into my coat, and order myself to tough it out.

Rather than continue with the rope, Kelda/Keldan offers me their hand, palm up, fingers outstretched. I take it, and they help me into the boat.

"Here," they say, handing me a thermos that's toasty to the touch. "Pour one for me too?"

Of course, it's exactly what I'd imagined sipping around the fireplace at home, perfectly hot, beautifully warming as I sip. Kelda/Keldan spends a few more minutes on adjustments before we're finally underway, beneath their knowing hand, slipping gracefully away from the humming floodlights of the jetty and out into the marsh.

There's next to no wind tonight, still Kelda/Keldan manages to find what little remains, capturing in the boat's pale sails. I'm to point the torch forwards till we reach the lake, warning any other late sailors that there's another boat to be aware of.

Once we reach the open water, Kelda/Keldan secures the tiller, raises the sail, and drops the small weight that the tiny boat calls its anchor. We sit upon the deck side by side, our legs brushing against one another's, and just as I'm about to lean in closer, Kelda/Keldan asks me to close my eyes.

"Trust me," they say with a whisper they know plays havoc with my good sense.

When my eyes are closed, they take the torch from my hand and there's a sharp click. The silence washes over us with the dark. All is still, and were it not for the warmth of them at my side, I would feel terribly alone.

First their breath, then their lips ghost across my cheek. Their hand slides around my back, and even through the coat and the cold, I can feel the caress of each finger.

"Open your eyes," Kelda/Keldan whispers into my skin.

I do, and I find a sea of stars stretching beyond the horizon.

---

Image courtesy of Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

[mossybunni]

My dnd oc Lethe and her wife opened an inn after they retired from adventuring. I made this as inspiration/visual for the vibe of their inn.

[dimity-lawn]

I'm reading Carpe Jugulum after having read the Tiffany Aching books and after reading that Big Yan was unusually tall at 7 inches tall, it's throwing me off that the Kelda of the Long Lake Clan (Big Aggie) is described as "at least a foot high".

I don't remember any of the other keldas being bigger than the average Feegle (except around). Am I just forgetting or is she really at least twice as tall as the average Feegle?

[comicwaren]

From Captain America Vol. 11 #016, “End at the Beginning”

Art by Carlos Magno and Espen Grundetjern

Written by J. Michael Straczynski

[fairy-spring]

Her big green eyes could drive any man mad, he was certain of it. Yet, of all people, he was the one graced with her presence. He was the one she deemed worthy enough for those bewitching eyes to gaze upon…

I’m supposed to be writing my fic but I keep thinking about post-canon 👉👈