#oc: maeve moonsong

[lustyargonianmaid]

maeve moonsong 🤍

love you dearly @cybilbennettgf & @red-nightskies

[bloodofvalyria]

MAEVE MOONSONG 1|∞

[statichvm]

DO YOU FEEL LIKE A YOUNG GOD?

happy birthday @lustyargonianmaid ♡

[lustyargonianmaid]

the lullaby

written with @lustyargonianmaid 's oc maeve because i love them both so soooo much

- us'dalhar : a conjunction i made up meaning "my child" from uss/ussa (mine/my) and dalhar (child). i imagine such a term would be reserved more for apprentices or disciples rather than actual familial relationships, and would serve as a patronizing term of endearment.

- wael : "fool" in drow. yes i have been looking for an excuse to use it.

--

Elthiilith held her rapier up in the firelight, still coaxing some dried blood off the blade. She should have had the forethought to wipe it clean before she put it away, and washing the scabbard was going to be a whole other nightmare, but she had time. Astarion had just settled into his trance, meaning she was the only one left awake. Letting the elves manage the night watch was very convenient for the other, lesser races who needed sleep, anyway. The more steady sleep they got, the more useful they were. At least, to her understanding.

She hadn’t really thought about it, hadn’t realized she had started humming. Low and soft and mostly to herself, an old lullaby, one of the first tunes she learned from the dark minstrel who served as her teacher. It rumbled in her throat– she always took it down an octave, her lower register was much kinder to her– and rattled her teeth as she massaged the viscera from her sword.

Someone moved out of the corner of her eye– Maeve, her violet-hued skin washed out in the moonlight, glittering with her strange fey magic and making her look like a glowing amethyst. She stalled her humming for a minute, watching her toss and turn as she tried to get back into her trance. She turned back to her blade when the movement stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” Maeve’s silky voice asked in a whisper.

Elthiilith hardly blinked at the question, “Stop what, us’dalhar?”

She heard Maeve roll over again. “Stop humming,” There was a pause, “It sounds pretty.”

“I’d hope so,” Elthiilith’s humor was dry enough to catch fire, “Given that I’d made a killing with my voice.”

“Hm…” Maeve scooted a little closer, making Elthiilith stiffen in response, “Sing me a lullaby?”

Elthiilith clicked her tongue, “What, like an infant?”

“Oh come on,” She whined, setting her head on Elthiilith’s thigh, “Can’t I be babied a little bit?”

Maeve looked up at her, blinking those otherworldly eyes innocently. Elthiilith simply raised a brow, before lowering the hilt of her sword so the bottom of the blade almost brushed against Maeve’s neck. Not with intent, she maintained the facade that she hadn’t just moved it on purpose. It was simply a warning, hoping the startle the young drow off. “You’re so foolish, Maeve, putting your pretty little head in my clutches like this. So pretty I’d love to just take it and hang it on my wall.”

Maeve rolled her eyes, not phased in the slightest. “Ugh, always with the act, Elthee. Like I couldn’t turn your organs into paste and your sword into butterflies.”

The grin on Maeve’s face was one she’d worn well, but hadn’t seen often. Sweet, threatening, and a side of mad. Elthiilith moved her sword, so as to not provoke the sorcerer.

“So are you going to sing to me?” Maeve prodded again.

“We are sleeping out in the wilderness, us’dalhar. Have you no fear of the–?” Elthiilith simply looked down, and remembered who she was talking to. She was surprised she had forgotten, given that the drow radiated fey magic. With a sigh through her nose, she relented. “Fine. I will hum you a lullaby. But since you do not speak drow, I will explain it to you.”

“It’s a lullaby, how much meaning can go into it?”

“It’s our culture, wael. You wanted to learn it, didn’t you?”

Maeve looked up at her, grinning, “Of course I want to learn it!”

“Then hush– you’re going to wake the others up.”

Maeve pursed her lips, but Elthiilith could see where the corners of her lips bent into a smile. She nodded.

With a long, onerous sigh, Elthiilith began her tale. “It starts with a young girl, smarter and more clever than all her sisters. She goes through the underdark and devises her way out of endless traps– she outsmarts dark mantles, mindflayers, and even devils. But then she meets Lolth, and tries to outsmart Her. The moment she thinks she’s won, and starts to celebrate, Lolth bites off her head for her arrogance.”

“Hm. Sounds like a dark lullaby.”

Elthiilith snorted, “You haven’t heard Elazthirin Elgg-hor– ‘Elazthirin the Destroyer.’ One of the most famous nursery rhymes in Menzoberranzan. Nothing was sweeter than walking by a crowd of kids playing, singing about using surfacescum entrails as decoration.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. I’ve learned such subjects are ‘taboo’ with… people of weaker constitutions,” She shot pointed glance at Wyll, causing Maeve to snicker. “But I think they’re enriching. Teach a child strong values– like keep your nose where it belongs.” There was a pause, and Elthiilith’s face grew sour, “…to think I sang it to my daughter.”

Maeve’s head tilted up in Elthiilith’s lap, but that was the only indication of her surprise. “…You have a daughter?”

Elthiilith set her jaw. “Had. But that was… ages ago, now.” With a sharp inhale, she straightened, “Unimportant.”

She cleared her throat, and began humming again. The tune was a little different than the one she was humming earlier, but had a similar soft, melancholy melody. Mournful, she thought her companions would describe it. To her, it was simply what lullabies sounded like.

Elthiilith spent hours seated like that, Maeve’s head in her lap as she rested, breathing slow and even. She had long put her sword away, and found her fingers playing with Maeve’s white, braided hair. She picked the buds of mushrooms that tried to grow in her scalp and the fabric of Elthiilith’s pants.

She instinctively stiffened when she saw Astarion’s rigid form sway, before he stretched languidly. His red eyes scanned camp before falling on Elthiilith, then Maeve.

His brows arched upwards and his mouth fell into his sarcastic grin.

“What?” She snapped, no louder than a whisper, as to not to disturb the drow girl beneath her.

Astarion simply grinned, “Oh, nothing. She’s got you wrapped around her finger, is all.”

[kota-stoker]

For @lustyargonianmaid – a stolen moment between Maeve and Aradin 🖤

Pose purchased from amazing @iamspectr00m

[lustyargonianmaid]

bringing back this gem @ghostfvcker 💜

[lustyargonianmaid]

[lustyargonianmaid]

maeve moonsong, bg3 early access 2/?

[lustyargonianmaid]

flower of flesh and blood ; part i. aelinthaldaar | the ancient elven city maeve and favriel moonsong once called home, before venturing into the feywild. while the city has been long lost to time and a mysterious magic, fragments of memories remain.

[lustyargonianmaid]

i'm finally playing as maeve, if you even care

[lustyargonianmaid]

the dark urge.

[lustyargonianmaid]

early access, maeve moonsong. 1/?

[lustyargonianmaid]

flower of flesh and blood ; part ii, favriel, the fallen prince | corrupted by the queen of air and darkness, maeve's brother once known as favriel becomes the champion of the unseelie court, a blood thirsty and cruel berserker barbarian, bathory bael.

[lustyargonianmaid]

maeve moonsong, bg3 early access 3/?

[lustyargonianmaid]

flower of flesh and blood ; part i. part ii. part iii. part iv.

[lustyargonianmaid]