#sorry Riannoc

[lady-quen]

Just plant lich things

[commanderthalys]

Been working on personal story with sweet Randyl

[mordremrose]

“I’m not him.” The words were choked, strangled even. Caithe set aside the journal she was writing in, and turned to see Bloom. “Who?” She asked, even if she already knew who he was talking about. “Trahearne.” Bloom muttered, his massive form slowly shuffling forward. “I’m not- I tried, but I can’t—“ He paused and a low rumble rattled the lower portion of his strange form, the plates of bark rising in agitation. His tail lashed and his hands dragged over his face. His palms caught on the spines along half his face and he winced. “I know you all see him. In me. You want me to be him.” Bloom seemed to deflate, sinking down to the ground. All of his limbs folded inwards, curling around his torso and Caithe swore she saw him tremble. “But I can’t. I can’t, I’m sorry—“ “Bloom.” Caithe spoke gently, standing up and coming closer. His eyes were squeezed closed, she noted. He didn’t open them to look at her, until she reached out and laid her palm on his massive front limb— paw? She still wasn’t sure. “Bloom. Look at me. Please?” She repeated, gently as she could manage. Caithe was not a woman well versed in being a comforting figure, in being someone who offered their shoulder to one in need. But Bloom needed her. He chose to come to her, about this. She could only imagine the courage it must’ve taken him to trust her with this, after everything. Slowly, Bloom opened his eyes and leaned down, so his massive head was closer to her. He still curled his arms in around himself, clawed fingers making grooves in the thicker bark along his arms. Now Caithe could see the tears welling up in his golden eyes, and her heart ached. She could see her brother in his face, or perhaps she merely imagined she could. But his eyes, glowing amber in a way that made part of her mind want to vanish and hide away from his gaze... that was not Trahearne. And it never would be. “I’m sorry, Bloom.” She murmured, stepping towards his face. “For making you believe you had to be him.” Caithe hesitated before she reached out, gentle as she wiped away the tears at the corners of his bad eye. It was a little easier for her to avoid the massive thorns along his cheek and jaw, she told herself, but Bloom leaned into her touch and she knew it wasn’t that simple. “It is cruel, to expect you to be a man you have never met.” Caithe muttered. “You cannot choose to be someone you are not.” Briefly, unexpectedly, a memory surged in her mind- a memory of Trahearne saying something similar to her once, years ago.

“You are not as cruel as you pretend to be Caithe. I think we both know that.” He said, his voice calm but sad. Caithe pretended to ignore him. “…I miss Wynne too, you know. And Riannoc as well. It is okay to mourn, Caithe.” “I don’t need a lecture, Trahearne.” “I am not here to lecture you.” Trahearne’s hand came to rest on her hand, steadying her grip on the vial of poison she was preparing. “Aife told me about Faolain leaving the Grove. I promise you, Caithe, you are not alone. You do not have to harden your heart. You do not have to be someone you are not.”

She had yanked her hand away from him back then, snarled something about not needing him to tell her who she was, and stormed off, not ready to confront her feelings, never mind share them. Caithe took a deep breath, letting her hand simply rest against Bloom’s cheek. “You do not have to be someone you are not, Bloom. Just because you do not know who that is yet, does not mean that you have to pretend.” She said, meeting his eyes. “I am sorry, Bloom, truly, that we… that our expectations—“ She shook her head. “We have made you feel this way. It isn’t fair to you. And for that, I can only offer my apologies, and try to do better.” Caithe hesitated. This was where her knowledge faltered. Was this when she offered a comforting hug? Could she hug Bloom? His size certainly made it questionable, and the pain he has described to Taimi made her wonder if a hug would even feel pleasant in his situation, or if it would just be another reminder of how out of place he was among the rest of Dragon’s Watch. Between Bloom and the Commander... she had a life time of apologies ahead of her, and not the kind that hugs would be enough to bridge the gap. “Caithe.” Bloom muttered, and even though he spoke quietly, she could still feel the depth of his voice in her chest while standing this close. “Yes?” “Thank you.”

[purple-saladleaves]

Smash or pass: Riannoc, Caithe, Yao, Mai Trin!

@mystery-salad

Riannoc ~ smash. Babygirl you are soooo doomed <3

Caithe ~ SMASH. THATS MY WIFE

Yao ~ SMASH AND ALSO I WOULD KILL AND DIE FOR THEM. OUGH YAO IS SO COOL

Mai Trin ~ hmmmmm. Difficult choice but I'm gonna have to say pass. Sorry Mai. I still love you though <3

[valiaint]

Stained Glass (Chap 4)

Truthfully, there are quite a lot of things she wants to know, but none of those questions are any that she would dare to say aloud. Not just for the consequences of interrogating her Mother Tree while she is still barely conscious-- but the consequences of knowing the answer. Why did you give Caladbolg to Trahearne? Am I as similar to Riannoc as he thought I was? Was I meant to be Riannoc’s replacement? Have you already meant to replace me, too? You were Mordremoth’s creation, does that make you similar to Glint to Kralkatorrik? Does that make us sylvari similar to Aurene? Would you have liked to meet Aurene? Would Riannoc? Would Trahearne? Can you read the thoughts in my mind? Do they seep into the Dream as they crawl into my nightmares? Would you still care for me if you could read these thoughts in my head, Mother? Would anyone? The cowardice, the disgrace, all this playing pretend. This destiny you’ve given me is too heavy a burden to bear. I understand, you know. I finally understand what they’d felt back then. Caithe, Trahearne, Riannoc... it was all too much, what you put us all through was too much, and now, I no longer want to know. “I give you this,” the Pale Tree breathes, and her Avatar cups Teraphany’s palm so gently that the sylvari nearly forgets that she ever hated her Mother at all. A small, round thing falls into the lines of Teraphany’s hand. It’s a memory seed, she realises. Just like the ones they had been given for Caithe. “This seed contains Trahearne’s most precious memory with you.” “His…?” Teraphany doesn’t know what to think. Seed as it is, the memory still thrums in her hand, and it feels warm, almost homely. Indescribably precious. “I… why would you give this to me, Mother?” “I am sorry,” her Mother Tree weeps, and Teraphany doesn’t know what she’s apologising for, but, gods, there are so many things, so, so many. “My beautiful child. I already ask so much. Hold onto the memory. I hope that it helps you… more than it may hurt.”

The girls do Living Season 3 and suffer for it: the chapter

AO3 Link

[archesa]

Anwen and Riannoc :>

Oooooh that's interesting on more than one level!! Mirrors and foils, mirrors and foils!

Anwen x Riannoc! Rays of sunshine knights of the Thorn☀️🦋

I've mentioned shortly that Anwen and Meryw act as foils to Riannoc and Waine.

The daybloom knight and his human squire. Their story ending in betrayal and death. The human knight and her daybloom shieldmaiden. Loyal to the end of the world.

In that regard, Anwen and Riannoc are very similar – both solar, valiant and bright. But Anwen more patient, more curious, perhaps more willing to compromise and more prudent.

Had Riannoc survived, prevailed against Mazdak, he would have returned to the Grove a hero, and made his way through the world. I believe the face of the world would have been very different then.

Perhaps Riannoc would have founded the Pact alongside or instead of Trahearne (if alongside, then sorry, daybloom but Anwen would eventually fall for your goth nerd brother no matter what! 🌱), or perhaps he would have formed an army of valiant knights and dragonslayers... The universe alterations are worth pondering!

As for Anwen and Riannoc, they could have made a stellar couple. But the stars don't shine, they burn. And they would have been too close, burning too warm and too bright for them to endure... in the end, Anwen would not have become who she is – who she was meant to be – if not for Trahearne's grounding presence.

A great ship, but they're too similar to thrive 🦋

[autumninfall]

#kralk vs aurene cutscene and you can see the exact moment he kills her#and then his fuckin. halloween grin as he leaves#aurene's ascendance and she goes through the stages of her growth#her egg and then her baby self and the faint images of the egg chamber in tarir in the bg#when aurene pulls away but the commanders hand is still reaching for her#like they dont want her to go#when aurene shows you all the ways kralk is going to kill her and that song plays#and then in the keep as youre fighting him and the music has that fucking drum beat and the zephyrites harmonizing#sorry i love. thunderhead keep.#GRANDFATHER. LOOK AT ME.#wait i have to add that the music that plays when aurene shows you how kralk will kill her ALSO PLAYS WHEN YOU CHASE HIM DOWN IN THE MISTS

hard agree with these tags, the grandfather look at me line went hard

Riannoc, the first sylvari to die

"Let's go get our sapling" a young Faolain said to a young Caithe, hours before all but one of said saplings were tortured to death

Spoilers ahead but this line hit me so fucking hard today:

"I used to be a commander"

gw2 story moments that went way too hard (my personal picks) (non-exhaustive list):

ls2 ending / teaser trailer for HoT

the entirety of HoT idk

final battle against Mordremoth

when rytlock runs into the spike trap in bloodstone fen and goes "ouch"

taimi voice: "jormag is active" [best song in the game plays]

*drops down into a volcano* damn that's a big roc- oh. oh... it's an elder dragon

spirit raven guide in the afterlife

taimi almost SUFFOCATING in scruffy??? bro turn that down one step, that went TOO hard

the entire bug in the system idk just one moment

when joko insults the commander's fashion. best 4th wall breaking diss in the game

"UHHWHAT" (sound of lab equipment breaking) "D-DID YOU SAY CHAK?!"

whatever that raptor fleeing sequence is right after. blish. you kno. i always die during that but i'm sure it's impactful if you don't fall every 2 meters while your party member finishes the instance

grothmar valley existing isn't a story moment but I'll mention it anyway because i can

when drakkar vomited out its soul right in front of the commander

jormag face reveal

Gorrik jailed. not for bioterrorism (this time)

Bioterrrorist Gorrik looking at a whale: "Is that a whale?"

[kerra-and-company]

This isn’t anything fancy, but please observe the bearers of Caladbolg in my main canon :D

(If you want to read my rambles/notes about this, check below the cut!)

Something I did completely by accident is that there’s a bearer from every cycle. Riannoc is (based on context clues, though I don’t think it’s ever officially stated) Noon, Trahearne is Dusk, Kerra is Dawn, and Rhi is Night.

Kerra’s the only one out of the four who doesn’t wield Caladbolg as a greatsword.

Rhi was, in part, named for Riannoc, which I’ve definitely mentioned before, but it bears repeating on this post.

Both Kerra and Rhi get Caladbolg when its past bearer/bearers are still alive, but they still encounter memories of them. Kerra fights a memory of Trahearne almost the same way it happens in-game (except, of course, that he’s not dead). Rhi fights a memory of Kerra from right after the ending of LWS4–right before they were born.

Their titles as remnants are, respectively: Warrior, Scholar, Champion (”Hero” when Kerra fights herself, which is prior to Aurene’s hatching), Hero. [That last one might change if I can come up with a better title for Rhi; we’ll see.]

Trahearne is the first of the Firstborn. Rhi is the the first sylvari sprout, first of the next generation.

I really enjoy that Rhi’s color palette is a big contrast to Caladbolg. This salad is a creature of contradictions and I love them for it.

[skeleshits]

He shone so brightly

Many said he was like the sun--and so, with his parting, it was like the sun’s very light had been stolen away.

He’s naught but a memory to us all now.

[queer-as-used-by-tolkien]

Trahearne/Riannoc O_o

I can't currently find it (edit: I found it!), but there is absolutely a datamined audio file of Trahearne saying the following lines:

Trahearne: The Grove should feel like home for me, but it doesn't. It never has. I started necromancy for my Wyld Hunt, to fight the corruption infecting Orr. My choice didn't win me any friends. Caithe's the only one who ever seems genuinely happy to see me.

We also have this dialogue, from the sylvari level 30 storyline:

Trahearne: Ah, Riannoc, I warned you - told you not to go alone. But you did not listen. We were all so confident. So unafraid of death…

Player: You told him not to go?

Trahearne: I did. But he would not listen. He said that Mazdak was too great an evil to leave unchallenged.

I know a lot of people ship Trahearne/Riannoc. (I don't, but hey.) We know very little about Riannoc and they and Caithe had strikingly similar Wyld Hunts (Trahearne to cleanse Orr, Riannoc to kill Mazdak the Accursed, a Risen lich, and Caithe to kill Zhaitan). I imagine that these three were best buddies. (And also Faolain, I suppose, since she and Caithe were a thing at that time.)

But what if that didn't happen?! I mean, in the datamined dialogue, Trahearne could just be leaving out Riannoc because he's dead, or maybe that's why the dialogue didn't make it in-game, but what if.

CONCEPT:

Riannoc sees Trahearne learning necromancy as betrayal, as joining the enemy. Most liches are necromancers, you know. Riannoc is theorized to have been a Noon sylvari, and they tend to rush up and attack problems head-on. Riannoc, being so young, may just as easily not have understood Trahearne's studious, learn-your-enemy approach; and when Trahearne, who has already shown an interest in 'the dark arts,' told Riannoc not to go, or not alone, or wait - Riannoc could easily have taken that as Trahearne... falling away, turning from his path, and maybe he was gentle with Trahearne and just said "that Mazdak was too great an evil to leave unchallenged," OR he may have shouted it in Trahearne's face, accusing him of being friendly with Zhaitan, accusing him of conspiring and perhaps no better than Mazdak in the first place, before leaving.

Now, of course, come to think of it. This isn't necessarily in-compatible with a Trahearne/Riannoc pairing. (I mean, given Caithe and Faolain lasted for ages). But it's a very, very painful version of a Trahearne/Riannoc pairing.

Sorry not-sorry, if you're anything like me you'll fall all over that interpretation.

[i-mybrunettelady]

Hi, I've been wanting to ask this for some time now. Iirc in one of your posts, you mentioned that Nyra has a lot of similarities with Riannoc. Could you elaborate more on how they're similar? And does these similarities affect her relationships (with Trahearne, Caladbolg, other sylvari maybe?)

Hello friend! That post was indeed made, a long time ago, and the details of the reason behind it probably changed but not the core concept, so thanks for letting me give some of it :D General spoilers ahead!!

So, let's start with Trahearne. In my canon, he and Riannoc had this brotherly, close bond likes of which he will only ever find with El later. And Riannoc was strong and brave and had no fear of death, but he was also proud and stubborn and when Trahearne told him not to seek Mazdak yet (I've forgotten the exact in-game quote but that's the gist as I remember it) he refused to listen and they had a fight; Riannoc went anyway and was killed, as we know. And Trahearne regretted his words during that fight for many, many years.

Cue Nyra, who at the time of Personal story is 19, a young Warmaster eager to prove herself and step out of her grandfather's shadow, who'd experienced death (with Deborah) but managed to get her sister back so it's not as grave as she'd once thought. She has a very worrisome lack of care, in a way, whether she dies or not; she wants a chance at history and to save Tyria. She's strong, a Warmaster for her skills as well as tactics, she's brave, stubborn as a dolyak and proud too (and that pride later becomes a casualty of all the grief she's gone through, but we're talking baby Nyra.)

To Trahearne, he can't help but feel like he's getting a second chance. She becomes important to him not in a sisterly way, but in a romantic way. As time goes on, as they're nearing the final battle with Zhaitan, he realises he's really in it deep and that he really really wants to be with this crazy ambitious woman.

But he knows better than to aim at pride. He knows better than to say those words again. Because he felt their repercussions 20 years ago. Because he knows it's not the way and he can't lose her too.

He knows better than to interfere.

So he doesn't. He hopes she comes back alive. He's seen her realise death is permanent. He's seen her have to put down friends and good people she respects (Apatia.) He's seen her grapple with the reality of death. Despite all of this, he knows she'll either kill Zhaitan or die trying.

And she does come back. He has his second chance.

And when they're in Hearts and Minds, he's aware world needs more heroes like Riannoc and Nyra. He tries to fight Mordremoth in his attempt to slash her shoulder and kill her that way, but he fails and Mordremoth makes a run for it. He dies thinking he'd killed the second chance at Riannoc. He dies thinking he'd killed the love of his life, basically.

And when he meets her again in Amnoon after they're both revived, and when he senses she's been in the Domain of the Lost, he's just happy she's still alive. Scarred or not, all he would ever want is for her to live.

Other sylvari don't notice this. She never reforges Caladbolg, so it has no bearing on this either (Elandrin reforges it in 1334 AE.) This is the basis of my Trammander. It's why he feels guilty every time he sees her suffering because of her shoulder injury when it flares up. It's why he sometimes just wants her to himself so they don't have to stand in the way of powerful forces that can separate them permanently again, but she's Nyra and when has keeping her locked/inactive ever worked out?

At the end of the day, all he can do is have faith! Side note, it's how he finally understands how people have faith, in a religious way. He doesn't think she's a goddess or anything, just the general feelings behind it. And even if she's religious, she isn't doing it on purpose. And he doesn't become religious, or spiritual, but it gives him a bit of an understanding!

Sorry for the ramble 🤣 but Trammander just,, gets me in the heart

[sylvaridreamers]

2, 7 and 15 for the headcanon asks!

Thank you! I realise you sent this a few months ago when I first reblogged your ask game and I never replied, I'm really sorry!

As I recently answered question 7 when you asked me the more recent time, I will only answer 2 & 15 here.

2. In game the cities are obviously limited in size. What part of a city that is definitely there isn’t shown in game?

There's so much. For the Grove, the sheer quantity of buildings, shops and so on that aren't there. There are a few houses like Caithe's and Riannoc's, and of course we have the garden in Dreamer's Terrace, but there would be more if it wasn't a game. Rata Sum hasn't got any housing, as far as I remember. Divinity's Reach is probably the most well rounded city, but it's missing basic facilities, schools, training areas, and a lot of variety. It's like each in-game city is looking at a tiny fraction of a city, or a very condensed version. Like if London was condensed from 32 boroughs with a population of 8 million to like... trafalgar square, Piccadilly circus and the houses of parliament, with a handful of houses thrown in. The cities should have theatres, libraries, schools, eateries, workplaces, hospitals, parks, and so much more housing!

15. A headcanon about a minor race, like Quaggan or Dredge. I think that the Dredge would have incredible folk music, particularly protest songs. They have great hearing and I am sure they have lots of songs about their history and about freedom, as well as working songs for mining. They may sing at some pitches that other races can't always hear, I don't know, but it would be a rich tradition, I think.

[moonlit-grove]

Sorry about spoilers! I forget to tag things a lot :/ will try to do a better job of it.

-uselessidiotsquad-

Oh, no worries! You don't have to tag for me, I've played through it. I'm just sitting on the spoilers because one of my friends wants to experience it in-game. I tag when I reblog and he's likely to forget by the time we play, but still... just in case.

I've played HoT to get caladbolg for my Riannoc clone and can confirm: I cried

[leafythiefy]

I remember someone in the sylvari tag was asking about Riannoc’s glow?  I dunno if you ever got your answer but I happened to get some good screens of him and am happy to say he glows a lovely bright purple :3

[brax-was-here]

A Gift From Scarlet: A Wintersday Story

For Tyrias Library prompt  “Traditions”

Written by: Braxxus and Arwen Darkblade

     The newly fallen snow gently blanketed the streets of Divinity’s Reach. The feeling of holiday celebration filled the air as children played and citizens decorated their homes for the Wintersday tradition. The Crown Pavilion was completely transformed into a winter wonderland as the people anticipated the arrival of Tixx the Toymaker and his giant Infinitarium. Ceara stood in front of a shop window that was filled with toys and gadgets for children. A small asuran golem hovered in the display, adorned with blinking wintersday lights. A light wind blew causing the snowflakes to dance playfully around her. The cold air didn’t bother her so much; she had endured worse living in a cave in the mountains of Lornar’s Pass for some months with a furnace that only worked periodically.

     “Wintersday,” she whispered to herself. She thought back to the last time she gave a gift to someone. It was actually a bomb sent to the dragonslayer. She closed her eyes for a moment.          

     “A gold for your thoughts?” a voice said next to her. Her eyes snapped open to see a gloved hand holding a gold coin. She glanced up to see who the hand was attached to – a light blue sylvari with purple foliage grown into two pigtails. Ceara narrowed her eyes, recognizing her. She glanced back at the window, noticing the reflection of the thief's twin, the warden Faelyn, standing not far behind them. 

     “Faeyin,” Ceara muttered, snatching the coin from the sylvari thief’s hand. 

     “Whoa, I think you burned my fingertips, secondborn,” Faeyin quipped, pretending to blow smoke off her hands. 

     “Money doesn’t come easy for some, thief,” Ceara replied, pocketing the coin. 

     “So are you going to tell me what’s on your mind? That was what I paid for.” 

     “Why do you want to know?”

     “Well, Faelyn noticed you standing here by yourself, looking like you were out of fruitcake.”

     “What do you make of this Wintersday tradition?”

     “It’s amazing!” Faelyn said excitedly. “Everyone is so kind and generous! Exchanging gifts freely. Helping the less fortunate!”

     “Less fortunate,” Ceara muttered. 

     Faeyin paused, looking at Ceara. “Yes, sister!” Faeyin held out her hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something!” she said beaming. Ceara looked at her, also throwing a quick glance at Faelyn, then back at the thief.       

     “Show me.”           

     Faeyin lead the trio behind the buildings, and began scaling some pipes. 

     “Hey now,” Ceara said, “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I haven’t become so desperate that I’ve taken up thieving.”

     Faeyin snorted. “Just follow me. There’s no crime involved.” 

     With some hesitation, Ceara began scaling the pipes as well, with Faelyn silently following behind. She was wary, but if the warden was following the thief, then this probably was the innocent excursion her younger sister had promised. 

     They reached the top of the pipes and crawled over to stand near the ledge overlooking the street they had been on just a few moments before. The city of Divinity’s Reach spread out before them in sparkling winter’s majesty. It was peaceful and a much-needed balm for Ceara’s nerves. 

     “What do you see, Ceara?” 

     “Um, the city.” 

     “No, look deeper.”

     Ceara drew a deep breath and slowly scanned the horizon. Not sure what the thief was getting at, she sighed and said, “Well it is peaceful and lovely.” 

     “That it is. But there is more. If you look closely, you can see the different architecture, dress, and even varieties of humans that make up this amazing place. Humans are an ancient race, and this city was founded by people who came from all over Tyria. Cantha, Elona, Ascalon. They have endured so much, and they have not only survived, they thrive. This bustling city would not be possible without the resilient nature of humans. Without their drive to overcome.” 

     “Well that’s, uh, really poetic of you. Why are you telling me this?” 

     “I tell you this because you need to know that what the dragon forced you to do is not the first, last, or even worse things that humans have or will endure. And there is going to have to come a time when you quit torturing yourself.” 

     Ceara was very quiet as she continued to look out over the city. The thief and the warden stood in silence, Faeyin with a satisfied smile on her face. She turned then, back towards the pipes. 

     “Come on! If the race that endured The Seering can find some cheer, so can you!” 

     Faeyin grabbed Ceara’s hand, which Ceara snatched away from her. Faeyin looked at her with playful disdain. “Now is not the time for grumpiness, secondborn,” she said, smiling widely. Faeyin led her down the street, stopping at a vendor along the way.       

     “A warm drink to soothe the chill for you young ladies today?” the vendor asked, casting a wary eye as he recognized Ceara.

     “Why yes, Merchant! I’ll have a hot cocoa for myself,” Faeyin said gleefully. “And you need not worry about my dear sister here. The past is past and she’s here to celebrate Wintersday,” she continued. “Now what will you have?”

     “A warm winterberry ale, please.”

     “Really? Ale at this time of day?” Faeyin chided.

     “Well, yes. Why not? You said I should celebrate.”

     “I’m sorry, miss. I don’t serve ale here,” the merchant said. 

     “Oh well, I’ll just have a hot cocoa as well.” 

     “And you miss?” the merchant asked over them to Faelyn.

     “A coffee for me. Dark, please,” Faelyn ordered. The merchant fixed their drinks, exchanging the mugs for coins that Faeyin produced from a satchel. 

      “The merchant recognized me,” Ceara said sipping from the mug. 

      “He’s not going to do anything. If the Seraph question, you’re here with us. Besides, I’m sure the Shining Blade already knows you’re here.” 

       “So where are we going?”

       “We’re going to visit some children.”

       “Children?” Ceara asked.

       “Yep!” Faeyin replied, as she started humming a playful tune to herself. Before long, the trio approached one of the gates to the Salma district of Divinity’s Reach. Ceara could feel the eyes of the Seraph guards watching her as they passed through the gate. 

        “And here we are!” Faeyin exclaimed as they approached a fenced off area that had children playing gleefully in the snow.

        “The orphanage,” Ceara muttered.

        “Mmhmm,” Faeyin said reaching into her satchel. “Priestess, please come here a moment,” she called out to a woman dressed in ornate robes who was watching over the children. 

        “Hail travelers, what can I do for you today?” she asked warmly, approaching the women. 

        “Here, use this for the children you have here. Try to find them the most wonderful gifts that you can.” Faeyin handed her a pouch that jingled when it dropped into the priestess’ hand. 

        “By the six!” she said, opening the pouch. It was full of gold and silver coins. She looked up at Faeyin as if in shock. “May the gods bless you!” Faeyin nodded and turned to Ceara as the priestess rushed off.

        “You steal from the rich to give to the poor. Seems somewhat ironic for a thief,” Ceara said to Faeyin. 

        “Does it?” 

        “And you let her get away with it, warden?” Ceara asked, turning to Faelyn

        “Sadly, yes, and technically I’m not a warden anymore. I stepped down from that post a while ago,” Faelyn replied.  

        “Now, dear sister, we have someplace else to visit,” Faeyin said, beaming. 

        “Your cheerfulness is somewhat disturbing,” Ceara said to her. 

        “Well, it seems the grump is vast in you this day, secondborn,” Faeyin smiled. Ceara heard a stifled chuckle from Faelyn behind them. “Now, let’s go!” Faeyin grabbed Ceara’s hand again, who instinctively pulled away. Faeyin shook her hand playfully, acting as if her fingers had caught fire.

     Before they could get too far from the orphanage, something solid hit Ceara on the back of her head.

     “Unfh!” Ceara grunted, startled by what just happened. As she reached behind her, she discovered that what had hit her was cold and wet. Her sisters were hooting with laughter, as were the children behind her. The priestess, however, was mortified. 

     “Children! That is no way to treat our guests! You apologize at once.” The children looked down, ashamed, and began to apologize to Ceara. Faeyin, however, raised a calming hand to the priestess, just as a snowball flew past her to hit one of the children.

     Faeyin turn to see Ceara flash an impish smile and a mischievous glance at her, and then Ceara turned to the children. “Oh, you’re all in big, big trouble now!” she announced playfully. She scooped up a snowball and threw it towards the children, hitting one of them on their retreating backside. Peals of laughter rang out from the yard as the three sylvari women had a rousing snowball fight with the children. Faelyn used a pile of firewood as cover, while Ceara and Faeyin dodged and rolled around the snow to the delight of the children. Once they were all exhausted, the women wished the children a Happy Wintersday and Faeyin waved over a hot chocolate vendor. 

     Slipping him a couple gold coins she said, “Give the little ones whatever they want. They gave us a good fight today!” 

     The children rushed to the vendor, shouting their thanks. Faeyin beamed with glee as they walked further into the Salma District. 

     “You really love the children, don’t you.” Ceara remarked.

     “Oh I do! They are extraordinary.” Faeyin was quiet a moment and said, “Can you imagine if it were that way for sylvari? If we were born as babies, and grew? And were able to have our innocence protected and embraced by older sylvari while we had a childhood under their watchful care?” 

     “Why Faeyin, what has you so melancholy all of a sudden?” 

     “I think of it often, especially when I am around human and norn children. I think of Riannoc, and other sylvari who had their innocence and naivete exploited. Who were betrayed by others for their cruel ends.” 

     Ceara was very quiet then, for she knew what her sister was thinking but not saying. She felt very warm then, and felt a fondness for Faeyin and her quiet twin that she hadn’t felt before. 

     “Thank you for the day. It has been lovely, and I enjoyed our time with the children very much.” 

     Faeyin smiled broadly, “Why look! You are capable of cheer!” 

     Ceara smiled and waved them goodbye as the trio split ways. She walked alone in her thoughts for several blocks through the twisting streets of Divinity’s Reach, the solemn song of a nearby caroling group echoed between the buildings. She paused momentarily, taking in the music. She thought of what Faeyin had said to her on the rooftop.

     “Maybe someday I’ll be able to, thief,” she muttered to herself. Sighing deeply she continued on her way until her hands were so cold she could hardly stand it. Spying an inn that she knew must have her beloved winterberry ale, she stepped inside. It was dark and quiet, quite a contrast to the festive nature outside, and it was just what she needed. 

     She chose a stool away from the others and soon the warm ale was filling her from fingertips to toes. She held the warm cup in her fingers, inhaling the heady perfume of the brew. She was contemplating ordering some dinner when a man, a young human man, sat down next to her. 

     “Excuse me, miss, I don’t mean to intrude. I was just wondering if you had a couple coins to spare so I could get something warm to drink.” He was shy, and Ceara could tell he was embarrassed. She could also tell he was shaking from the cold and possible hunger. 

     “Of course! Do you like warm winterberry ale?” He nodded sheepishly. “Barkeep, another for me and one for my friend.” 

     “I appreciate you very much, miss. May the six watch over you.” He gave a polite bow of his head. 

     “You’re quite welcome, and my name is Ceara,” she smiled warmly at him. 

     “I’m Nicholas.” He looked at her shyly and smiled, blushing on his cheeks. 

     The barkeep brought their drinks and Ceara said, “Good sir, my friend and I will also be dining here tonight. Give us two of whatever you have on special.” 

     “Oh miss, thank you, but you don’t have to do that….”

     “It’s Ceara and I will do as I please.” She winked at him and he flushed crimson.

     “T-thank you, miss, I mean, Ceara. You are most kind,” 

     Soon Ceara and Nicholas were feasting on crusty bread, soft cheese, and the best lamb stew she had ever tasted. They spoke little, but from his story she was able to gather that Nicholas had a business venture that didn’t quite work out for him, and now he was trying to get back on his feet. As he spoke, she took inventory of him. Tattered clothes. Holes in his coat. No scarf or hat. Gloves that didn’t quite cover his fingers. And judging from his condition, she assumed he had been sleeping outside. 

     She noticed the sign above the bar indicated that the inn had vacancies, and that it was only two silver a night to stay. An idea flashed in her head and she perked up. 

     “Nicholas, it has been a delight to meet you and talk to you.” 

     He flushed again, “Same here, and thank you kindly for your generosity.” 

     She cupped the gold Faeyin had given her and held it in her closed hand.

     “What’s that?” 

     “Give me your hand.” 

     He reluctantly held out his hand while she placed both of hers over it.

     “It’s a gift,” she said. “From me to you.”

[likemesomesalads]

Tagged by @frozenfern​

______

― your muse’s name:  Zheag(fried)

―  a favorite picture/face claim of your muse:

(i just love him n taking screens of him in Djinn Enclave)

― two headcanons you have for your muse:

He’s allergic to coconut.

He is a really good weaponsmith and makes all of his own weapons, but wouldn’t ever think about working as a smith. Too boring for him to do it constantly.

― three things that your muse likes doing in their free time:

Napping, killing monsters and whatnot, taking care of his weapons.

― seven people your muse loves/likes:

Trahearne, his hubby, of course, he loves him.

Caim (@caim-the-godstomper​) gotta love lil sis

Canach, he good

Ulric Fangbearer, his cuddly n loving bf after Trahearne’s death

Riannoc, RIP

That’s it, there is only five. I’m sorry.

― a phobia your muse has:

Losing control over his powers and hurting people, He really doesn’t wanna be a villain.

Thanks for tagging me! ❤

I’ll tag: @commanders-sole-braincell​ @caim-the-godstomper​ @resonatingfern​ @astralarias​ @duskroots​ @commander-pleur​ and anyone who wanna do it