#we don’t deserve Wyll Ravengard

[mumms-the-word]

your tags about wyll being another disabled person standing up for stelmane... yeah. like all the characters have amazing links to disability like gale's orb, karlach's heart, astarion's hunger all being chronic illnesses essentially, shadowheart dealing with chronic pain, lae'zel i think is the only one without disability coding like that? but wyll being like obviously physically disabled in a different way to everyone else feels important. and the whole thing of overt physical disability being treated completely differently to invisible disability bc there is no way to hide so you're an obvious target (ask me how i know...) so yeah wyll. ugh 💜

I have MANY thoughts about the various disabilities in the game and the way that BG3 is ultimately a Search for a Cure game that dares to suggest “but what if you don’t want the cure? We have a path for that”

But yes to catch others up:

Wyll is physically disabled because he is missing an eye, so he is half blind (though for gameplay purposes we don’t see him with a debuff in accuracy or a lower movement range like we see with completely-blind Zanner Toobin)

Karlach has a chronic heart condition, her heart is a literal machine and it causes her a great deal of pain and discomfort and it will eventually kill her

Gale has the orb, it causes heart-pain/chest-pain-like aches and if left unaddressed will literally disabled him in terms of gameplay because he will slow down and all his attack/defense dice rolls take a hit

Shadowheart has the mark on her hand, which flares up at random and comes with a sharp pain. She also has amnesia, which can be considered a disability

Astarion has vampirism, which, depending on how you read it, is itself a kind of disability (though the tadpole negates a lot of the disabling parts of vampirism for him). I don’t read his hunger as chronic illness mostly because regular hunger isn’t chronic illness and he does find ways to manage his hunger; he is however traumatized and likely has a host of mental illnesses that I won’t diagnose him with, though CPTSD seems like the obvious low hanging fruit

Lae’zel’s only known disability or illness is the tadpole. And she treats it like a disabiltiy or an illness rather than an asset. Unlike others, she’s seeking to cure it, point blank, no negotiations

So the game is full of unexpected and intentional disability representation, even when actual disability isn’t like….actually affecting your gameplay. Sometimes it does, like with Gale, but often it doesn’t mess with your dice rolls or attack range or accuracy. The game just isn’t built for that.

But anyway you point is not about the gameplay. It’s about Wyll.

Wyll I think is interesting because out of the Core Six, he’s the only one comfortable with his disability. I think this is partly because it doesn’t cause him pain. (Pain is after all the Great Complicator in disability discussion.) Even when he turns into a devil, which would do wild things to his psyche, he takes it in stride. This might be bad writing or it might be intentional—physical difference just doesn’t fluster him

But anyway he’s so comfortable in his disability that he jokes with you when you join the “One Eye Club.” He speaks of Stelmane post-stroke as a survivor and a person of value. I imagine he doesn’t have much experience with chronic pain or chronic illness but he’s probably dealt with tons of injuries (look at all his scars) even at his young age. He’s an idealist, but I think he also speaks from experience when he says that Stelmane is “no less worthy of life or success because she is disabled”

I think he thinks the same of his friends. Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, Astarion, Lae’zel, even if they were able to cure their tadpoles or fix their conditions, he would find them no less valuable and worthy before or after their cures. I don’t think he always understands exactly the chronic pain/illness element but he would never ever say that a person is less worthy of simply living or succeeding or becoming a hero or becoming anything they want to be just because they have a disability or illness

Chalk it up to his idealism but I think that makes Wyll one of the more surprising and uplifting characters in the game, among his other surprising and uplifting characteristics. Like…he’s going to believe in you, no matter what. And he’s going to support you however he can. We see that with Karlach, and how much he would prefer his best friend live with her chronic illness in an environment that will lessen her pain than die. He’d probably give up his magic boots off his feet for Gale. He’d probably agree to fight Shar one on one to try and get her to stop plaguing Shadowheart with pain. He doesn’t want his friends to hurt, but he doesn’t think they’re less valuable or weak for hurting, you know?

Anyway we don’t deserve Wyll Ravengard

[aenvittorielle]

Shadowheart: *turns away from the Shar and saves the Dame Aylin*

party reaction:

Halsin: *supports her and praises for bravery*

Astarion: I suppose it was only a matter of time until Shar took vengeance. For the Lady of Loss, she doesn’t like losing.

Wyll: 😳 Shar called Shadowheart “nothing”. 🤔But I know better than that. 😌 She is something. ☺️ She is worthy. 🥰 She is strong. 🤗She is Shadowheart! 😍 Nothing can take the her from her. Not even a goddess. 💞💘💞💘💞💘💞

[aboxofcereales]

I’m slowly working on a piece of paper about changes in Wyll’s character between early access and game release, but I don’t really know when I’m going to finish it, in the process I’m more and more fascinated by potential story of Wyll’s parentage and their own story. Although mostly this is purely headcanon, but may I suggest the following:

There are few things we learn about Wyll’s mother during the game.

After stumbling upon Arabella in Shadow-Cursed Lands, a following dialogue may happen: “You've talked about your father, but not your mother. Why's that?” “Because there's nothing to tell. She died when I was born. As a boy, my bond with father was too deep to miss the mother I never had. Now, well - I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about my mother. What life would've been like if she'd lived.”

During romance scene in Act 3, Wyll says: “My mother always said the Wilden Oak's acorns held just a touch of wishing magic.”

There are two weapons, belonging to Ulder Ravengard, which describe some details about Wyll’s parents - Duke Ravengard's Longsword (can be found on Ravengard himself) and Ravengard's Scourger (can be found at High Security Vault 5 in The Counting House): Longsword: “Cradling his newborn son awkwardly, the Duke's face pulled into a rictus of misery. His love Francesca smiled at him, briefly, and died. He stared at her until the boy cried, and he told the boy it would be all right, though he himself did not believe it.” Scourger: “Duke Ravengard's father was the sort of man who works with his hands, and communicates in grunts. In his heart his son vowed to do better. But when Wyll was born, Ravengard felt a strange gravity that drew him away from his son.”

To sum up, what we learn in-game is that Wyll’s mother was named Francesca, she died giving birth to Wyll, Ulder loved her and their son, and tried his best to raise Wyll well.

Ulder’s parenting style deserve its own piece, but I think its obvious that he cares for Wyll deeply, though often failed to show it, acted to strictly, to righteously. Ultimately, it fall down on Ulder character, the “Murder in Baldur’s Gate” describes him as following: “Blaze (Major) Ulder Ravengard is the incarnation of militarism. The only beauty he appreciates is precision, and the only quality he values is utility. He believes that personal ornamentation other than military insignia is a waste. A meticulous man, he forgets nothing and forgives less. Ravengard has never married and has no interest in domestic matters. Someone might consider him handsome, if not for his constant scowl and many scars.

Blaze Ravengard is Marshal Abdel Adrian’s right hand man. He is both the second Highest ranking officer in the flaming fist and the warden of Wyrm’s rock. Ravengard’s soliders do not love him. They do respect his leadership, however, and pay for it with their obedience, which is exactly how Ravengard prefers things.

Naturally stolid and terse, Ravengard is slow to speak and make decisions in any arena expect the battlefield. Once he decides on a course of action, Ravengard is relentless in it’s pursuit. He believes the Flaming Fist is the Gate’s backbone and the key to the city’s strength.

With the Death of Marshal Abdel Adrian Ravengard has risen to the Rank of Marshal of the Flaming Fists.”

What’s interesting, its noted that Ulder Ravengard was never married, and the longsword description calls Francesca Ulder’s love, not bride or wife. This more then likely mean that Wyll was born out of wedlock, as Wyll is about 16-17 during  the death of Abdel Adrian.

When talking with Counseller Florrick, when Wyll is reveled to be Ravengard’s son, he says “The circumstance of my birth is no matter of pride for neither me nor my father.” This may refer to Wyll’s birth leading to his mother’s death or the fact that Wyll’s technically was born a bastard. In the latter case, Wyll’s mom might as well have been a worker at  Sharess' Caress, with whom Ulder could have had a one night stand, but its specifically stated that Francesca was loved by Ulder, and of what I read about the Grabd Duke he seems to be the man who would marry her out of duty and responsibility of getting her pregnant. So there should be another reason behind it.

 There’s this banter between Shadowheart and romanced-Wyll:

“Someone of your social stature, Wyll, are they typically allowed to pursue their heart whims as they like?” “I don't have to ask for permission if that's what you mean.” “Really? I'm surprised, I thought dowries, alliances and old blue blood feuds might have to be balanced against your desires.” “I'm my own man, Shadowheart, in this sense at least.”

Wyll’s a hopeless romantic, who wishes for a happily ever after with her one true love, and Ulder apparently never minded the potential social status, despite him and Wyll being a high-ranking member of society.

Of course, Ulder’s marital status and Wyll existing can be explained by the fact that Wyll being Grad Duke Ulder Ravengard’s  son was a part of the character rewrite. It was datamined before that originally was supposed to be a great-grandson of Duke Eltan, the founder of the Flaming Fist and a Grand Duke of the city of Baldur's Gate in the 1300s DR. And the bits of this storyline are still presented in the game: Fist Art Cullagh with his original writ of duty, signed by Eltan himself, pre-final part of Wyll quest taking place in the Iron Throne, where Eltan nearly assassinated.

Currently, House Eltan, the descendants of Duke Eltan, is one of the noble patriar families. The Forgotten Realms wiki states that: “The family held partial financial ownership of the Flaming Fist mercenary company. At one point however, they were forced to sell their interest to help pay significant debts they had incurred.”. Which I believe corelates with what EA!Wyll spoke of his father (the man saw any shining bauble he liked and took it, and my hand were ever so stinky or smt along those line).

So, what if Wyll is still Elatn’s great-grandson through hid mother? What if somewhere along 1460s DR Francesca Eltan, a granddaughter of a once Grand Duke of the city and a member of  patriar family, met Ulder Ravengard, a son of a poor blacksmith and a mercenary of The Flaming Fist, steadily ascending through its ranks? What if Franceesca taught the stern and disciplined Ulder to dance, read to him her favorite stories and poems under the Wilden Oak, made him on other things then duty and order? What is if their time together resulted in Francesca getting pregnant with Wyll? What her family did not approve of the union due to Ulder being merely a mercenary, who hailed from the Lower City, or they wished to marry her off to someone who could aid with the family’s financial problems? What if Francesca ran away, hoping that the birth of a grandchild could convince her family to attend their wedding afterwards? What if Wyll’s love of dancing and dreaming came from the mother he never knew?

[paarthursass]

uhm hiii “you don’t need to earn my affection, not now and not ever.” for the prompts?

touch-starved prompts

"You deserve better than this."

Aurel paused, spoon hovering over his bowl as he glanced over at Wyll. "Oh, come now, Gale's cooking isn't that bad. At the very least, he's certainly gotten better now that we have access to the Last Light's kitchens."

"Not the food," Wyll said, fondness flickering in his gaze in spite of the sad tilt to his mouth. "...I fear I've done a poor job of courting you."

"A poor job of — what?"

Aurel set the bowl down as he turned to face Wyll fully. He glanced briefly over at their companions, but he and Wyll had taken their dinner on the outskirts of Last Light's shores, away from the others. They wouldn't be disturbed; unless the others got nosy (which was always a possibility.)

"What in the Nine Hells brought this on?" Aurel asked, turning his gaze back to Wyll.

"The Hells are part of the problem, I fear," Wyll's lips twitched into a small, sardonic smile. "Or Mizora, rather. Her, these blasted tadpoles, Ketheric Thorm and his Cult of the Absolute...were we in Baldur's Gate, I could have done this properly. I'd have invited you to dine with me at the finest restaurants on the shores of the Chionthar, taken you to see the best concerts performed by the Gate's most accomplished orchestra. We could have attended one of Duke Stelmane's balls on each other's arms, and I'd have pulled you to the side to whisper sonnets in your ear."

"Only sonnets?" Aurel quirked an eyebrow, and the impish grin on his lips only grew at how Wyll flushed.

"Had we met at some posh soiree, I'm not entirely sure it would have been the fairy-tale you're envisioning, my dear," Aurel went on, reaching out to gently fix the ties of Wyll's tunic. And if he allowed his fingertips to brush against the exposed collarbone of Wyll's chest, the way Wyll's throat bobbed was certainly worth the liberty.

"I used to be quite the rake, you know. I thought I could drown all my sorrows in wine and dancing and meaningless trysts in the dead of night. Of course I gave all that up long ago, but seeing the strapping Blade of Frontiers in top form on the dance floor may have tempted me towards acting the scoundrel again."

The flush had spread from Wyll's ears down to his neck, but he seemed determined to push past whatever ungentlemanly thoughts Aurel had inspired as he took Aurel's hands in his own.

"That's part of what I mean," he insisted. "After everything you have weathered, after everything you have given...you deserve better. You deserve sonnets, songs, and a man who can bare his soul to you freely."

"Your soul will be free soon enough, if I have anything to say about it," Aurel sniffed and raised his chin an inch. Wyll smiled, and he squeezed Aurel's hands between his own.

"You prove my point yet again. I was already smitten, but seeing you haggle with Mizora for my soul stole my heart again thricefold."

"Flirt. But don't think you can charm your way out of this one, Wyll Ravengard."

Aurel freed his hands, but only so he could cup Wyll's face in them.

"I don't know where that little voice in your head is coming from, but I will not have it sowing such nonsense. In case you didn't notice, I am completely and utterly smitten with you, too. And nothing, not Mizora, not these tadpoles, nor the Absolute itself — whatever it may be — will change that."

Aurel allowed his thumb to gently trace the scar on Wyll's cheek, and as his eyes roamed his handsome face, the stubborn glint to Aurel's eyes softened into affection.

"I would trade every single ball for that dance we shared under the stars. I would turn my ear from the finest orchestras just for the sound of your laugh. And I would discard the finest wines just to sit by your side, eating Gale's mediocre soup."

Finally, a huff of a laugh from Wyll. The corners of his eyes crinkled, his cheeks dimpled as he smiled, and both proved far too tempting for Aurel. He kissed him — at the corners where his eye crinkled, teasingly at the side of his mouth where his cheeks dimpled, and then finally coming to rest at his lips. He held him there for a moment, one hand moving to caress the back of Wyll's neck. And when they parted, it was only for a breath as Aurel rested his forehead against Wyll's.

"You don't need to earn my affection," he murmured. "Not now, not ever. You are more than enough to me; not Ravengard's son, not the Blade of Frontiers, you."

Wyll gave a shaky exhale, but Aurel knew him well enough by now to recognize the gleaming of his eyes meant joy, not grief. Wyll moved, arms wrapping around Aurel and pulling him closer into a tight, warm hug. One that Aurel happily returned, stroking his fingers along Wyll's shoulder blades as he rested their heads together.

"Does this mean you don't want me to continue to court you?" Wyll asked after a moment. Aurel snorted.

"Now, I never said that," he protested as they parted. Wyll's eyes glimmered with amusement. "I only meant that you needn't feel obligated, dear one. You can rest assured that there is no pursuit required; you have quite masterfully caught me already."

"With quarry like you? Only because you allowed me to."

"Oh, let's not get caught up in the details of how you caught me, what matters is that you did. And you do. Have me that is."

Aurel's gaze had softened again, though his lips were still upturned into a playful smile. But he gently stroked his thumb along Wyll's jawline as he searched his gaze.

"Are we better?" he asked quietly. "Or do I need to scold that pesky inner voice some more before it goes away?"

Wyll laughed. "Oh, the doubts will always be there. But never about you. And I think you've done a splendid job of pushing them back, for the moment at least."

"Well, you just let me know if they come crawling back," Aurel sighed. "I'll drive them off again. Or at the very least find a very clever way to distract you."

"I'm sure you will," Wyll laughed, pulling Aurel in to press a kiss to his forehead. "As you always do."

[ratboomerang]

a little fic i wrote while playing through act 3 of baldur's gate! i couldn't for the life of me come up with a title i liked, so i'm just leaving it title-less for now.

pairing: gale x tav (they/them)

rating: just angst and a little bit of cuteness! sfw

content: concept of underwater death

spoilers: act 3, blade of frontiers-related quest

summary: while rescuing ulder ravengard, the gondians, and omeluum from the iron throne, everyone is accounted for. everyone... except gale.

______________________________________________________________

All of this for Wyll’s father.

They didn’t regret it—couldn’t regret it. Wyll was their friend after all, and his father didn’t deserve to die. Besides, Baldur’s Gate needed someone to take back the position of Archduke once they’ve dealt with Gortash. But here, miles below the surface, where no one would hear them scream, Tav’s heart was racing. Maybe they should have focused on rescuing Ravengard. At least then they’d have all been out of this prison with more time before it blew. But they just had to be a hero. Had to save as many as possible. Had to find Omeluum. Had to, of course, send Gale to rescue the illithid.

Gale was the most well-equipped by far. His arcane capabilities could easily overcome the obstacle that was the turbulent water filling the prison’s metal channels. Tav trusted him to take care of himself. More than that, Gale trusted himself. Or, at least, Tav thought he did. Knowing Gale’s tendencies, they were starting to worry that maybe he agreed because he didn’t want to let them down. Maybe it was Tav who let him down.

If Gale didn’t make it out of here, it’d be their own damn fault. Wyll would have his father back, and all it would have cost was the man Tav never imagined they’d fall for. They had never been a romantic, not really, they had never considered themself as such. But here they were, holding their breath with an intensity they didn’t anticipate, standing at the bottom of this ladder and refusing to climb up until Gale was able to climb up as well.

“What in the hells are you waiting for? You do know there’s a time limit to this whole maneuver, yes?”

“Astarion, I can’t leave him. We sent him out to—”

“You. You sent him out to grab the Mindflayer. This whole thing was your idea! Don’t pin it on the rest of us! Gods, even Wyll was prepared to accept his father’s fate. If Gale can’t figure out a way to make it back, that, frankly, is his problem! Besides, he was bound to blow up on his own eventually. What difference does it make if the prison beats him to it??”

Tav swallowed the urge to swing at the vampire as he crawled his way up the ladder. There were mere seconds before they would be consumed by Gortash’s explosion, and Tav couldn’t bring themselves to climb just yet. Hero complex, maybe. Recent romantic lapse, more like. The team had managed to free a solid amount of the Gondians, though not all of them made it past the sahuagin. The thought brought on the horrid realization that for all they knew, Gale could be dead himself. He could be lying cold below the murky surface, his blood washed away with the rushing tide, and Tav would never know. Before rationality could catch up to them, they felt themselves rush away from the ladder.

They had barely taken a step before they found themselves folded in half over a tough, burning body. “Come on, soldier. Team needs ya.”

“We can’t leave him, Karlach—I can’t leave him—”

They were met with silence as Karlach hoisted the two of them up the ladder, but Tav could feel her sadness for the loss as well. They were in no position to fight her; her grip around their waist tightened as she felt them try to slip out of her arms before she finally reached the submersible. Redhammer closed the hatch behind her and began to swiftly pull them away from the Iron Throne. Almost immediately after undocking they heard the blast, the sheer power of it shaking the submersible as it dodged falling rubble. Karlach set Tav down, and it was then that they could see the radiant smile stretching across her face. All it took was a quizzical look from them before she nodded over their shoulder. “Turn around.”

So they did. To their surprise, they saw none other than their beloved wizard, mid-conversation with Omeluum. Karlach gave them an encouraging pat on the back but it wasn’t needed. Tav was already dashing over to Gale, embracing him on impact. Gale let out a small huff as Tav barreled into him, but returned the sentiment. Tav gripped his robes tightly, almost as if tangibly reassuring themself that their lover was in fact in front of them. His familiar scent—warm, bookish, fresh—had been replaced with an overwhelming smell of salt and fish, but it was comforting all the same.

“I thought I lost you.”

“Not quite. Still a bit of life in me yet, if I have anything to say about it.”

Tav met his eyes, brushing a hand through Gale’s dripping hair. “You amaze me, you know.”

Gale smiled softly. Of course, Tav knew that behind that smile was a shitload of gratitude. For a man who wanted nothing more than to prove himself worthy of their love, to prove himself a useful asset to the team, compliments like this weren’t taken lightly. “Really—the credit should be handed to our illithid companion. I wouldn’t be standing here if it didn’t magic me to the ship along with it.”

“You’re downplaying your capabilities. Omeluum wouldn’t be here if you didn’t succeed at getting to it in the first place.”

Gale gave a small nod. “Much appreciated. Truly. Now—should you be sitting down? If Karlach had to carry you—”

“Fucker was going to dive headfirst into the tunnel to go after you!”

Tav shot Karlach a look, to which she grinned. “Plannin’ on hiding that from him, were ya?”

“No, not necessarily, I just—”

“We really should talk about your noble tendencies. If anyone’s going to save the world, I have no doubt it’ll be you, but you do actually need to be alive to do the world-saving. Fight for yourself just as much as you fight for the rest of us.”

Tav sighed in his arms, Gale’s words hitting them as they always did. Like Sune’s own hand twisting their stomach into knots. Before they could respond, he whispered to them, softly enough for them alone to hear: “You don’t need to save me, Tav. You already did.”

[20skai]

Title: Our Future Seems Bright Now (1.7k words)

Pairing: wyll/tav (my oc Nemeia, tiefling, and cleric)

Warnings: none, this if fluffy and deals with acceptance

A/N: thinking about Wyll and Nemeia’s relationship being found out by his father. Wyll no longer is in service to Mizora and can look to his future with his love. He also doesn’t have horns (an exploit in the game I took advantage of when I found out I could get the robes AND keep Karlach alive, get wrecked Mizora you floozy 😂) There will also be mistakes and I haven’t written fanfiction in FOREVER so it may not be up to some peoples standard but I don’t care, I love this man and he deserves better than what he got.

“Excuse me, miss. May I have a word?” Ulder Ravengard asked while he regarded the priest evenly. Nemeia, who just finished her nightly prayers, looks at the older man with wide eyes. Not in fright but in nervousness. Wyll had been courting her for a while now and he hasn’t told his father that they were. Nemeia doesn’t blame him though. It has been a busy few days after whisking away Duke Ravengard and all the captives from the Iron Throne. Everyone came back beaten and bruised but in high spirits after the successful rescue.

“Of course, sir. What can I help you with? Do you need healing? I know getting out of the Iron Throne was tough and nobody came out without injury.” Nemeia looks him over, wanting to see if any bruises or cuts need to be mended that she may have missed. Though to her surprise, he chuckles and offers her his arm.

“No, I am in no need of healing. You were very thorough when we made it back to your camp after leaving that accursed place. I was hoping you’d accompany me for a walk.” Ravengard gives her a smile full of warmth. Nemeia looks around the camp for Wyll but he seems to be in a very spirited conversation with Gale. Probably something to do with magic, she mused. Turning back to the senior Ravengard, she entwines her arm with his and begins their walk.

For about 10 minutes they walk in a mostly comfortable silence. Enjoying the starry night over the water with fireflies and the symphony of crickets. After another few moments, Ravengard speaks.

“I wanted to thank you again for saving me, priest. It would have been easier and less perilous to leave me in that place. But you didn’t and I will be eternally grateful.” Though they are still walking, Nemeia glances quickly at the Duke through her peripherals and he seems relaxed, contented even. It makes her feel a rush of pride and a little embarrassment in herself.

“You need not thank me, sir. It was the right thing to do. No one should suffer a fate like that.” She hopes her voice is even and not shaky that she hears in her head. Ravengard lets out another chuckle and stops in his tracks. Nemeia lets go of his arm and faces him. The Duke tips his head to clearing for them to sit. Making it to the clearing Ravengard helps her down onto the ground before situating himself. I see where Wyll gets his gentlemanly tendencies from, she thinks.

“I do need to thank you, miss. You’ve brought my son and I back together and showed me that my casting him out from his city was a grave and poor choice on my part. Not just as a man but as a father. And please, call me Ulder.” Nemeia’s face flushes from the praise heaped onto her but still has the good sense to give a small smile to the older man.

“It and you mean a lot to Wyll, it was truly no trouble. I’m just heartened to see you both together and happy. It’s a joy to behold, mended relationships that is.” And she means it sincerely. Being with Wyll has shown her parts of him that no one else would be privy to see and she delights in the fact that she’s one of very, very few to see the vulnerability when he speaks of his past and his father.

“Yes, I can tell it brings you joy to help my son.” Ulder says with a mischievous smile “when you connected us through the tadpole to show me what Wyll sacrificed I could see other glimpses as well. Something’s I’m sure you didn’t intend on seeing. Like my son courting you perhaps?” He finishes. Nemeia can do nothing but flush and be stunned. While her other companions knew and supported her and Wyll’s relationship. They were the only ones who knew. She will admit talking to her beloved's father about their relationship alone was not how she thought she was going to spend the evening.

“I-well, ehm, that is true sir, but I’d never do anything to take advantage of the affection he has for me!” Nemeia can only slap her palm to her face after such an embarrassing outburst. But the old Ravengard can only burst into laughter.

“I am not worried about him being taken advantage of. My Wyll has always been sure in his convictions. Though I will admit I am surprised he was able to sway a beautiful young woman such as yourself to be with him. From what I remember he was a little rough around the edges when it came to matters of the heart.” Nemeia can only giggle thinking about a younger Wyll trying to woo a young courtly lady. Then her smile falters as she looks to her horns. The Duke notices the shift in her demeanor and takes her hand with an understanding smile. “I want you to know I take no issue with you being a tiefling. I will admit it’s a bit unorthodox, but I know you to be of good character and from what I could hear from your companions you have a kind and gentle heart. I could think of no better match for my son.”

Nemeia couldn’t help a few tears fall from her eyes. She knew that her people had a reputation for being liars and cheats due to their infernal ancestry. Even though the truth was they were just like everyone else. They were good and bad and most fell within the middle of the spectrum. Ravengard could tell that was a weight lifted from her shoulders. And was glad that her smile returned to her face.

“That means much to me si- uh, Ulder. I want nothing more than to see Wyll succeed and be happy in his life. And I’ll be honest I want to be at his side through everything. He is a great man. Honorable and takes the pillars you’ve taught him to heart in every action he makes.” The older Ravengard had a look of pride on his face when hearing about his son's good nature and how he kept his lessons close to his heart.

“Tell me about him. We’re still mending our relationship but I want to know everything he’s done since he’s been in your company.”

—————————————————-

“Father? Nemeia? Where are you?” Wyll shouted out. He had been in a rather passionate tiff about magic with Gale and realized his father and Nemeia were not in camp. Ignoring Mizora’s glare he set off to look for them both. He feared the worst when he heard a noise from a clearing by the lake. But getting closer he realized it was laughter. Approaching slowly he sees his father and his love laughing together. Though it seems that his father is laughing much harder than she. From the cheeky look on her face she just told a joke or a hilarious story to his father. After a few steps they both see him walking towards them and give him happy smiles.

“Hello son. Forgive me for stealing away your lady loves attention. I wanted to get to know her and to hear about your adventures you’ve had will in her company.” Wyll’s eyes became as wide as saucers, he wasn’t ashamed about his relationship with Nemeia. Quite the opposite in fact, Wyll wanted to shout it from the highest mountain that this woman was his and he was hers. He just wanted to make introductions to their relationship the proper way. Dinner, then sitting together in the sitting room of his home while his father listens to the both them while they shared the love they share for one another. Looking at his son’s expression Ulder chuckles at his expression and decides to take mercy on his son. “I may be old Wyll, but not so old that I can’t see the way you both look at one another.” He smiles warmly at him and stands to clap him on the shoulder.

“You’ve made a fine choice in partners, son. I expect you to treat her right. I will not have you disrespect her in any way. Now, Miss Nemeia, would you mind giving my son and I some time to speak to each other?” He turns to the woman in question.

“Of course, I’ll see you both back at camp.” She says. Walking past Wyll she gives him a reassuring smile and squeezes his hand. Watching her leave, Wyll doesn’t see his father giving him a sly look. “It seems you like her for more than just her kind and gentle nature, huh son?” Realizing he’s been caught eyeing up his love, Wyll flushes fiercely and hears his father laugh heartily at him.

“It’s fine son, there needs to be some physical attraction between a man and woman.” He jokes. “I’m not going to talk about this with you father.” Wyll states looking at everything except the man in front of him. Ulder’s laugh tapers off to a soft chuckle before he composes himself.

“Alright, alright son, I won’t say anymore of the subject. But I will say this.” He says and Wyll looks to see that his father is all business now and unconsciously straightens up.

“You do intend to marry this woman, correct? Once this whole Absolute mess is cleaned up. The City will need strong and capable leaders to help guide the reconstruction and quell the fear of its citizens. She will help you in both regards and also be your comfort when the City and its politics get to be too much.” Wyll can imagine the life that he and Nemeia will live. And he shivers when he thinks about the love and care their home will be built off of. He can’t wait to start the new chapter of their lives together.

Looking at his father, Wyll looks him square in the eye and gives a firm nod. “Yes, I will marry her. She is my yesterday, today, and my tomorrow. She is my shining star. And I would do anything for her. And on those days where she also needs support I will be her comfort.” The old Duke can only smile hearing the conviction in his son's word.

“That is great to hear son, I am so incredibly proud of the man you’ve become and the life you and she will have together. Now let me tell you a story about your mother and the Wilden Oak acorns she was fond of…”