#what if. what if he sneaked into moonrise towers like i plan on doing for my next playthrough.......

[stxrmstained-a]

// Intrusive thoughts*

*what if Seira saved Minthara

[meanbossart]

So we know Drow and Orin were a thing, but what was Drow’s relationship with Gortash and/or Ketheric like? Asking because I did a little post about my Durge Dude’s relationship with the other chosen recently, wondered what your Durge’s were, and I don’t think you’ve ever told us what Drow’s dynamics and/or history with them so I’m curious

I talked about this a long, long time ago, I think Gortash has a tag in my archive if you want to dig up those old posts. However, while my ideas have remained more or less the same I do think they require some comprehensive updating! So here we go.

Ketheric:

Their relationship might as well have been nonexistent, which kind of seems to be the pattern here for Ketheric among the chosen seeing as he was in this plan for vastly different reasons. DU drow rarely saw the general if not to strategize alongside the others or strut around moonrise towers finding things to scoff at.

Unlike Gortash, Ketheric didn't care for networking or keeping things amicable - he remained cold and uncaring through DU drow's occasional attempts to get a rise out of him, expressing discontent in the lest amusing way possible if nor outright ignoring him. He never extended him a hand or an invitation for brunch, he never spoke a word about himself lest it be used against him - as it happened with the little that had to be shared. The only time DU drow ever saw Ketheric flinch was whenever he expressed his strong desire to go pay Isobel his respects.

Gortash:

DU drow and Gortash were "friends" in the most strained and flimsy sense of the word. Gortash strikes me as a the kind of guy who will forego all dignity if it favors him on the long term, for both practicity's sake and possibly an ingrained penchant for self destruction. DU drow saw this, and the moment he caught onto the fact that he was indispensable for Gortash's plans, he started to pick at him ever so subtly to see how far he could be pushed before breaking. He insulted Gortash's appearance, choices, faith, background, family, he destroyed his property and made a bad job of covering up his tracks on purpose, he sent followers to kill his men in the hopes of seeing him be stressed out about it the next day. It never worked. Gortash still invited him to his dinners, still shook his hand, still remained unambiguously smug - it would be infuriating if it wasn't impressive. Respectful, even.

But even if they were amicable, even if they were on "acceptable terms" and the closest thing each other had to a real, equal friendship, DU drow always saw Gortash as a sniveling child trying to play grown-up; lacking in any real free-will of his own because his pursuits were motivated entirely by a sob-story of a past. Gortash did not fit the britches that he was trying to wear, and DU drow had a sneaking suspicion that if he ever got to the top, to the place where he was trying to be - commander of the world and killer of the universe, side by side with him - that then, then he would finally break; once he realized that all he had accomplished was isolating himself with the most cruel man in the world.

And he dreamed of this day. He fantasized about it. He eagerly awaited to see Gortash's face drop the second he got everything he ever wanted - he got a glint in his eye picturing it whenever they toasted or shared a laugh about their brilliant futures. He loved Gortash like a butcher loves a fat cow that's going to keep in alive during the coming winter. It's still a kind of love. It's always a kind of love with him.

[lynnlovesthestars]

The Vault.- Work in Progress page.

Hi, welcome to my work in progress page, where I'll update with the status of the current pieces I'm writing, and to give a sneak peak on what's coming up.

When im mentioning OC, im always referring to my oc @wisterialynn

Status: I (Idea), W (Writing), E (Editing), B (Beta reading), T (To post), P (or strikethroughed, posted)

Genre: DDDNE (Dead dove), A (Angst), F (fluff), S (Smut), H (Hurt no comfort), C (hurt with comfort)

It includes requests

Astarion:

Untitled (Astarion x reader), where reader gets gravely injured and Astarion doesn't like it. W C F

Pretending pt. 3 (Astarion x reader) After a night of cuddles, waking up in an empty bed feels oddly wrong. W C F

Pretending pt. 4 (Astarion x reader) the shadowcurse is way more dangerous than what it seems H W

Little bump (Astarion x reader), dadstarion headcanon T F

request (Astarion x A Tav who rides a very large wyvern, with them having a bond similar to Daenerys and Drogon or Daemon and Caraxes from GOT/HOTD??) W

request (Could I ask for a Astarion x Durge!Tav I've done 2 Durge playthoughs and wish , which ever companion you romance has a reaction when Durge rejects to be bhasls chosen and gets killed but brought back to life by withers [...]) E

Untitled (Astarion x reader) teaching magic to Astarion F I

Bloodshift (Astarion x oc):

Untitled (Astarion x OC) Dddne, oc has gone through some harsh things for the past 4 years, and he has doubtful ways of coping. DDDNE, H, I

Untitled (Astarion x OC) where oc has a gift for Astarion, but he didn't think it through, featuring the couple rings you find in the graveyard near moonrise towers. C W

Untitled. (Astarion x OC) modern au, where Astarion has had a crush on oc for a long time, but does the wrong thing and almost fucks it up. W C

Untitled (Astarion x OC) college au, Artist !oc and best friend! art model! Astarion C W

Rooftops (Astarion x OC). What if they met after the fall of the netherbrain? C T

Nightmares. (Astarion x OC), study of their nightmares and their backgrounds, written in parallel. T C

Untitled. (Astarion x OC), where one can't hide anymore that they have to be caught in the middle of compromising moments, ft. oc background mentions S T

Untitled (Astarion x OC) Guardian angel au. I

Untitled (Astarion x OC) Background study of OC's trauma, ft smut. S E

Untitled (Astarion x OC) study of oc trauma, ft. hurt comfort. C W

Untitled (Astarion x OC) Miniseries walking through their relationship and rewriting scenes from the main game based on how oc would react. I

Holidays (Astarion x OC), for the holiday challenge on ao3, where the two lovers confront the fact that they have lost a lot since the last moment of peace they had. (W C

Karlach:

Untitled (Karlach x reader) finally you get to touch Karlach how she deserves. Inspired by the dialogue in act one- which is bugged in my run so i can do it over n over again) S W

Letters (Karlach x Dammon) title is self explanatory. F W

Untitled (Karlach x ??) Karlach has a twitter gossip account in anon and plays matchmaker. Modern au, socmed au, (Current plan for next milestone to recruit one reader's oc?) I

Wyll:

masquerade (Wyll x reader) meeting at a masquerade and falling in love I

Gale:

Untitled (Gale x reader). The netherbrain has been defeated and only the gods know if you'll survive the fall. W C

Untitled (Gale x reader), you are low on magic items, so you look for alternatives to help your wizard crush. W S

this kiss https://youtu.be/d-QO55xmS5A?si=8Zup_Dgz0iroNNgt W F

Jaheira:

Untitled (Jaheira x reader) sequel of dinner is served. S I

Shadowheart:

Untitled. (Shadowheart x reader) there's only one goddess in the shar temple until you kneel betweet her legs and the Lady of Loss is forgotten. S W

Laezel:

Shattered. (Lae'zel x reader). Vlaakith broke her heart, and it's you that has to pick up the pieces. C W

Halsin:

tbt

Minsc:

tbt

Other:

request (Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD) W

request (Could you do a separate scenario thing with the companions(Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel) The scenario I was thinking of is Tav who’s married to the companions(separate) is arguing with their child in another room about Uno.) W

[whatacaitastrophe]

Barbora x Astarion - for electricvaporwave

A one-shot I did for @electricvaporwave <3 I loved writing this for you.

Would you like me to write a BG3 one shot for you? Check out this post and send me a message <3

Song Inspiration: “The Moon Will Sing” - The Crane Wives

Content Warning: Canon-Typical Violence

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were actually trying to actively get us all killed.” Astarion scowled at Barbora as she laced up her boots.

“We have to go get them, Astarion. Cal, Lia, Lakrissa, Danis– they’re all going to die if we don’t save them.” Barbora countered, glaring at the vampire. 

This was how all of their conversations went lately: yet another innocent person would be in danger, Barbora would agree to help, Astarion would disagree, arguments ensued. It was a dance Barbora thought the two of them had moved past after all of the other situations where they’d gone out of their way to help people (the tieflings, the ironhand gnomes, the myconids - to name a few) that Astarion had come around on the idea of being the hero. As it turned out, he’d been biting his tongue for a while, and it all came tumbling out the second they reached the shadow-cursed lands. Perhaps it was the environment. Perhaps it was the looming threat of a Githyanki patrol sneaking up on them. Perhaps it was simply just the fact that they were (hopefully) close to the finish line and Astarion was getting anxious about Cazador. No matter what it was, Astarion’s antagonistic behavior was at an all-t against every suggestion Barbora made was wearing on her patience. 

“No, we don’t. We have enough problems of our own– it’s not our fault these people keep getting themselves kidnapped,” He argued. “You’re asking us to infiltrate the heart of Moonrise Towers and break people out of prison. Why bother when we could be as close as we are to getting these gods-damned tadpoles out of our heads?”

“If you don’t like it, then you can stay the fuck here.” Barbora snapped. Maybe the environment was getting to her, too. Even with Isobel’s blessing, and the blessing from the pixie they freed, the energy of this place…it was soul-sucking. Astarion was visibly taken aback by the tone of her voice and immediately Barbora felt guilty. They bickered, mostly about her moral compass and his lack of one, sure, but she never snapped at him like that. An apologetic look washed over her face, but it was too late. She watched as Astarion’s facial expression changed, as he gave her one of those looks he used to give her after they first met: cold indifference. 

“You know what? I think I will. The bleeding hearts can handle this. I’d say don’t do anything stupid, but…well seeing as this whole plan is stupid there’s not much of a point.” He said with an eye roll before sauntering off. 

“Astarion–” Barbora tried to apologize, but he cut her off. 

“Good luck with the prison break, darling!” He called from over his shoulder, not bothering to look back at her, and Barbora sighed. She would deal with that later. For now, she had tieflings to save. 

Barbora should have known this was going to go wrong the second Karlach suggested they jump down into the massive hole behind the warden’s office to see if there was a way to get around to the back of the prison cells. The presence of the hook horrors in the disgusting, fleshy mind-flayer oubliette below should have also been a sign. Only since they dealt with the horrors easily and Karlach’s theory proved to be correct, Barbora let her guard down. There was even a boat waiting for them at a small dock, ready to take them away from Moonrise Towers the second the prisoners were free and out of harm’s way. It was too easy, and nothing was ever easy.

It started when one of the guards cast “Hold Person” on Lakrissa, the tiefling ranger Barbora was fairly certain was dating the tiefling bard they’d also met at The Grove, Alfira. If the desperation in Alfira’s voice when she pleaded with Barbora and her companions to bring everyone back from Moonrise Towers was any indication, then they were probably together. Instead of continuing the short path to the waiting rowboat, Barbora turned around. She needed to break the concentration of the guard keeping Lakrissa in place. 

“Soldier, where the hells are you going? The boat is the other way!” Karlach shouted as she shot an arrow at an oncoming guard who’d emerged from the cell previously holding the Ironhand gnomes. 

“I won’t leave her!” Barbora shouted as she took off at a sprint.  

Karlach swore as she called after Barbora, but didn’t argue with her. The swearing may also have been from the spell that whizzed by the fiery tiefling’s ear, missing her by centimeters. The guard holding Lakrissa in place was stalking through the prison cell and Barbora readied her sword taking aim so that, if her blow landed, he would go clean through the gap in the guard’s armor at his elbow, hopefully causing him enough pain to focus on that instead of keeping Lakrissa in place. The blow landed, and the guard cried out with a yelp, freeing Lakrissa just as Barbora had planned.

“Run!” Barbora shouted to the tiefling as she began backing up herself with one eye on the guard.  Lakrissa did not waste time hesitating before heading back down the path Barbora had just come from. The guard was wobbling on his feet as he raised his crossbow. He was dazed, that much was clear, so his chances of hitting her were low. 

Only, it seemed luck was on his side that day, because when the guard fired the arrow, it found its mark in Barbora’s shoulder. From a close distance, it hit her with such force that the arrow went clean through her body, leaving a gaping, bleeding hole in its place as Barbora yelled in pain, collapsing to the ground. This was it. This was how she was going to die. Barbora could see around the corner just barely, and it looked like all of the tieflings and the gnomes had made it to the boat, even if she wasn’t going to. 

The guard seemed to get a second wind after getting Barbora on the ground and he began walking towards her, replacing his crossbow with his sword as he went. Her vision was blurry now as blood spilled from her body. All she could hope for now was that the guard’s killing blow would be swift. 

“NO!” A voice shouted, and…no that couldn’t be right. The owner of that voice was at camp. Wasn’t he? Was she hallucinating? Gods, if Barbora’s final thoughts were of him before she died, she would haunt him forever as punishment. 

Astarion’s dagger found purchase right between the guard’s eyes, and Barbora realized as the white-haired elf came into view that she was not hallucinating at all– the vampire had followed them to the prison and, if she didn’t bleed out first, he’d just saved Barbora’s life. “No– you are NOT allowed to die on me. Not like this.” Astarion panicked as he removed his dagger from the now-dead guard’s forehead. 

“‘Starion–” Barbora croaked as Astarion dropped to his knees beside her and wrapped his arms around her body. 

“Shhh, save your strength,” The faint sound of ripping fabric filled her ears, and suddenly the smell of Astarion filled her nostrils as he tenderly wrapped the wound in her shoulder. He’d ripped the bottom of his shirt for her. Astarion scooped Barbora up in his arms and swiftly carried her to the waiting boat, where Wyll, Karlach, and Shadowheart were all sitting with the fugitives. A collective gasp left their companions’ bodies as Karlach moved so quickly to help Astarion that she almost tipped the boat over getting out.

“Shadowheart–can you heal her?” Astarion asked the cleric desperately as he and Karlach lowered Barbora into the boat. Shadowheart nodded.

“I’ve used a lot of magic today, but I should be able to stabilize her until we get to Last Light, then we can get more help from Isobel.” That Shadowheart was willing to ask the moon cleric for help was a testament to how bad of shape Barbora was in. Astarion pulled Barbora close to him again, his armor stained with her blood. The warm glow of Shadowheart’s healing magic dulled the pain, and was enough to close the wound’s exit hole. The space where the arrow had entered was still wide open, but at least Shadowheart’s efforts had slowed the bleeding a bit more. 

“‘Starion, ‘m sorry–” Barbora tried to apologize for their fight earlier. After all, he’d been right. She’d nearly gotten herself killed. 

“Hush, darling, we’ll talk later.” He whispered and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head as she closed her eyes. 

It was dark when Barbora woke. Well, it was always dark in the shadow-cursed lands, but it was clearly what everyone assumed to be nighttime based on the way the lights in the barracks at Last Light Inn were dimmed– the room mostly illuminated by the fire still roaring in the hearth. Barbora slowly took in her surroundings, taking note of the fact that she was back in her camp clothes, and her shoulder had been wrapped with new, clean, fabric. There was still a faint throbbing of pain in her shoulder, and she winced as she attempted to sit up, but the wound seemed to have been healed otherwise. 

“You’re awake.” Astarion said softly, and Barbora jumped. 

“How long have you been sitting there?” Barbora asked weakly. She hadn’t noticed him sitting in the armchair next to the bed with a book in his lap. 

“Since we brought you in six hours ago,” He admitted. Six hours? The book in his lap looked like he’d barely touched it– had he spent that entire time just…watching her? As though Astarion could read her mind as she stared at the book in his lap, he chuckled. “I couldn’t stop watching you…I wanted to make sure you were still breathing.” 

Barbora’s heart did a flip in her chest. “You– you were worried about me?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling, of course I was,” Astarion chastised her gently as he moved from his chair to sit on the edge of Barbora’s bed. “We have our squabbles, yes, but…you scared me today.”

Barbora stared at him and blinked. “What?” 

“I tried to deny it to myself for a long time. Then I watched that arrow go through your shoulder today and when you collapsed to the ground…all I could think about was murdering that guard for harming you,” Astarion reached for her hand and squeezed it. “That was the moment I realized you mean a great deal more to be than I’d planned for. If– if you’d died…I’d have burned Moonrise Towers to the ground.”

Barbora’s heart sped up in her chest. She’d always assumed Astarion was flirting with her because he flirted with everybody– not because he was actually interested in her in that way. From the sound of it, Astarion was also under this impression with himself until very recently. “I– I care about you, too. I hope you know that. And I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.” Barbora apologized, and she squeezed Astarion’s hand again. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, darling, I was an arsehole. Besides, I ended up following you anyway, didn’t I?” He reminded her with a smirk, and Barbora laughed. 

“And it saved my life…” She pointed out, nudging him slightly. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t think anything of it– like I said, I care about you. Keeping you alive is of great interest to me.” He teased Barbora and leaned over to kiss her cheek. 

Barbora yawned, her body exhausted from the day and her injury. “Lay here with me?” She requested, and Astarion nodded. Barbora gingerly slid over on the mattress to make room for the vampire, and once he was situated beside her, Barbora moved back towards him and curled herself up in his arms before drifting off to sleep. 

[thessalian]

Faerun!Alisaie vs the Circus

But first, some wandering around Rivington

Blacksmith: Hey, I can tailor a weapon specificially for you! How do you like to kill people? Would you ever turn a blade on an ally? Tell me about your inner killer!

Alisaie: ...Oh for fuck's sake. It's Orin again, isn't it.

Orin: *taking her proper shape* Better hurry it up, poppet. Gortash is watching. *poof*

Actual Blacksmith: *wandering out of a nearby house* You! You attacked me!

Alisaie: *sigh* Sir, you are concussed.

Dice: *roll low but with a +22 to Persuasion checks, that doesn't matter one tiny bit*

Actual Blacksmith: ...Right. Fine. Just ... go away anyway; you're giving me a headache.

And, after finding a cave

Wulbren: What were you sneaking around in there for? We're friends since Moonrise Towers, remember?

Alisaie: I was walking into a cave, Wulbren. I didn't know you were in it until I tripped over actual civilisation.

Wulbren: Huh; fair. We really should have a code for that hatch. Anyway, we want to blow up the Steel Watch. You in?

Alisaie: I will stop the Steel Watch, but with the tremors and everything else, I'm not hatching a plan that involves the potential death of civilians! Plus those Gondians you're bitching about might not be acting on their own free will! Look, just ... remember that I talked my way into Moonrise Towers, got you out with a minimum of killing, and got you into the Last Light despite the Harpers being kind of paranoid.

Wulbren: Fine, but I'll have the boom ready when you come crawling back.

Wyll: Sir, she has done the impossible with very little in the way of support--

Shadowheart: Can I hit him? I want to hit him.

Alisaie: Being right is the best revenge, when it comes to people like him. Let's just go, okay?

And, still heading in the general direction of the checkpoint

Danzo: Something's been stopping my pigeons! My letters keep going missing! I am upset about this for ... business reasons! Yes! Just that!

Alisaie: I have a feeling I should be more concerned about this than I am, but I've been dealing with other people's bullshit all day and I'm fed right the fuck up. Still, I will go and find your letters, because I am an altruist and also frankly because money would be a good thing right now, since Gale wants to go shopping.

Gale: It is not. Just. Shopping! And after you promised Raphael--

Alisaie: Wait. What? I haven't even talked to Raphael since he told us about Astarion's back-scars. And even if I had, do you really think I wouldn't just tell him what he wanted to hear and do my own thing anyway?

Gale: ...Ah. Right. Well. I ... have no idea where that came from, then. Sorry. ...So ... pigeons, you say?

Commander Lightfeather: I order my forces away from the temple roof! They never come back from that area!

Alisaie: So something up there's eating them. Do we think it has anything to do with the circus? I mean, there's obviously something weird going on in there, since they're still advertising Dribbles the Clown and I am still lugging around a fucking clown torso...

Gale: Actually ... I have a feeling it might be something ... else.

And sure enough...

Gale: Tara! Good to see you doing so well! Clearly keeping well-fed!

Alisaie: *a-HEM*

Gale: Oh. Right. Please stop eating the postmaster's pigeons.

Tressym: Oh, fine.

Alisaie: I really feel like I should be opening these letters and lying about who opened these letters. But ... nah. Somebody's grifting someone around here and the end of the actual worlds trumps someone getting grifted.

Gale: What if it's about the end of the actual worlds, those letters?

Alisaie: Then we will find out about it later and deal with it at sword-point, same as we do everything else. Now lemme just give these back to the postmaster and then back to camp. You need to hit the books again and I need Karlach for a thing.

Gale: What, you expect something to need bludgeoning?

Alisaie: Nah. Dead clown means investigating the circus. Whether we need to beat up another doppelganger imposter or just a recalcitrant test-your-strength machine, or even if we don't need to hit anything, doesn't matter. Karlach doesn't have a lot of time left and you know she's going to want to see a circus.

Gale: You are altogether too kind. But ... what if I want to see a circus?

Alisaie: I know you. You want a book way more than you want a potentially evil clown.

Gale: Huh. That's true. Very well.

And, on the way into the circus

Klaus: My minion doesn't like you. No circus for you!

Alisaie: *bats eyelashes*

Klaus: ...Oh, all right.

Shadowheart: You are good.

Alisaie: It was either that or point at Karlach and ask if it was wise to disappoint her.

Karlach: *bouncing up and down* Circus! *squeeeee*

Wyll: That might have been fun to watch, but this way is better, true.

Zethino: Test the bond of your love!

Alisaie: Want in?

Shadowheart: Okay ... just ... quietly so you don't blow my rep.

One dreamscape later

Zethino: Your love is beautiful!

Alisaie: My lover is, sure.

Shadowheart: *bluuuuush* You're not so bad yourself.

Karlach: You two are so cute!

Wyll: *quietly to Karlach* I'm going to fight like the hells that hurt us both to make sure those two get a happy ending. Are you with me?

Karlach: *quietly* Damn right.

Akabi: Try your luck!

Alisaie: *spots the cheating* You, sir, must have some stories to tell. A djinn with a fabulous voice and immense power operating in a little circus in Rivington.

Akabi: *flattered, and too distracted to nudge the wheel* Well. Yes. I hail from the--

Wheel: *stops on jackpot*

Akabi: You cheated!

Alisaie: Ah, no. I neutralised your cheating. Big difference.

Akabi: You want the jackpot so bad? FINE!

Alisaie: *poofs*

Shadowheart; Wyll; Karlach: What the--?!?

Shadowheart: You bring her back right now or gods help me I will break you and your ridiculous beard!

Alisaie: *from behind them* Um ... flattered, but ... I'm okay.

Shadowheart: Are you all right? Where did you go?

Alisaie: Jungle full of dinosaurs.

Wyll: And yet you look decidedly unmauled. Good show.

Alisaie: What, you thought I fought them? Fuck no; I snuck to a good spot to use an arrow of transposition, poited past the whole mess and found the portal out. Oh, and Akabi? *holds up Nyrulna* Thanks for the grand prize.

Akabi: *is piiiiiiissed*

A little further on

Karlach: Your clown here's a jerkbag.

Alisaie: Our clown here's an imposter. Hey, TEABAG! Your jokes are as old as fancy Baldurian wine but haven't aged nearly so well!

'Dribbles': HAIL THE ABSOLUTE!

'Dribbles'; Animal Tamer; A Couple Of Others: *start killing the guests*

Displacer Beast: Oh, come on! I would have been doing this too if you hadn't wrecked up my cage so I couldn't break out!

Alisaie: Ugh. Well, at least I got some time on stage.

Stabnation: *ensues*

Back at camp

Karlach: Shouldn't we have said something to that ringmaster lady about the corpse we found?

Alisaie: In the morning. I think I did a little too much altruism today and--

Vlaakith: KILL ORPHEUS AND BE MY GOOD LEFT HAND FOREVER!

Lae'zel: GET FUCKED!

Vlaakith: *poofs*

Lae'zel: I do not like emotions; they are confusing.

Alisaie: Look, you believed one thing your whole life and it got turned upside down. No shit you're somewhere between angry, bitter, and grieving. No one here's going to judge you for that.

Lae'zel: ...Is this ... 'the mortifying ordeal of being known'?

Alisaie: Yep. Now get some rest. If you're going to fuck with a god, even a weakling god, you need some sleep.

Dreamtime

Emperor: Oh. Hi. Sorry. Got distracted. Elder Brain is pissed, and struggling. They're having a hard time controlling it without Ketherick's stone.

Alisaie: So we need to get their stones fast and put an end to this so we don't end up servant to a freed elder brain, which is probably just as bad as being servant to enslaved-by-death-god-assholes elder brain.

Emperor: Given any more thought to being more like me? I mean, you know we're not monsters...

Alisaie: Look, I know you're a people. I know I'd still be a people. Thing is, I don't think I could deal with the dysphoria and dysmorphia and a whole bunch of other dys-es that would ensue if I changed that much.

Emperor: *sigh* Very well. Oh. Shit. Need to focus. And so do you - on getting some rest. You've got things to do tomorrow ... involving ... why are you carrying a clown corpse?!?

Alisaie: You used to be an adventurer. Didn't you ever end up with something entirely stupid going on that you couldn't explain to most people without being looked at like a lunatic?

Emperor: ...Fair enough. Now, follow your own advice to Lae'zel and get some rest.

[fourleaf-lorwolf]

Escapade

It was his palace, his kingdom; he could clearly see the peaks of the Skymaw towering above him. Yet at the same time it wasn’t his palace, because it was all in ruins. The young wolf padded softly through the ruins, his ears twitching in an attempt to hear something other than his own pawsteps. But there was nothing. The ruins were completely abandoned.. Or were they?

He whipped around, barely catching sight of a shadow disappearing around the corner. Who was that? For a moment he stood still, almost as if unsure of what to do. But he did know; he had done this many times before.

One pawstep, then another. He was out of the ruins. The wind whipped around him, snowflakes slicing under his thick fur like frozen claws. It wasn’t safe out in this storm, that was for sure. He turned around.

She stood there behind him, as if waiting. Her spotted pelt was barely visible through the swirling snow, but her emerald eyes seemed to glow brighter than the moon.

He could see the dark, horned shadow looming behind her. He could hear a voice. Was it his? He wasn't sure. There was a bright flash of light, and everything went dark.

“Prince Rayelin,” a sharp, commanding voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the world. “Answer the question.”

He coughed quietly, blinking the sharp sting of the incense from his eyes. “Yes. I, Prince Rayelin of Blizzardcrest, swear by Orrin’s Fangs to uphold the alliance.”

“Tell me about it.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Rayelin growled. He pulled off his cloak, throwing it in the corner with a frustrated sigh.

“You saw her again, didn’t you?”

“Kenta, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Why don’t you just go to her?”

“Because I don't know where she is!” Rayelin snapped, glaring at the snowcat. “Because it’s not princely to go running off into the world looking for friendship!”

Kenta moved closer, curling their tail around the wolf. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Are you suggesting we run away?”

“What’s stopping us?”

“My parents are stopping us.”

‘I’ve always wanted to see the world beyond Icerun, you don't want to lead the pack… it’s the perfect plan, Raye. We carry out this dumb ceremony, and when we get to the mountains we slip away.”

“That can’t possibly work.”

“We’ll try it, okay? Besides, they need us. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Rayelin could think of plenty of things. But he couldn't bring himself to say them. There was no arguing with his companion.

“Moonrise tonight,” Kenta purred, padding softly toward the window. A moment later, they were gone.

Kenta was insane. Sneaking up here every day to keep him company was one thing, but suggesting that they run away? Rayelin shook his head. There was no way it would ever happen.

And yet, some part of him wondered if it really was too good to be true. He’d be the first in his bloodline to run from the crown. A prince giving up the diplomatic lifestyle of a royal was rare, but not unheard of. Perhaps, with a bit of luck, it could work. Perhaps, finally, he could stop being Prince of Blizzardcrest. Perhaps, finally, he could just be Rayelin.

The sharp smell of incense filled his nose and stung his eyes once more. His cloak felt heavy on his shoulders as he fought back his nervousness. He could feel the watchful eyes of the pack on him, staring into his soul. There was no way this could work.

Kenta grinned at him from across the room, surrounded by an entourage of snowcat royalty. This was the one night that even the solitary snowcats came together to celebrate, if it could even be called a celebration. How could they not be worried about the plan? Or maybe they were nervous, and just good at hiding it.

The hall, once filled with quiet murmurs, fell silent suddenly as the leaders of Blizzardcrest stepped to the center of the stage. Rayelin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had to focus.

“Welcome, friends,” Rayelin’s father stepped forward, his deep voice carrying across the gathered crowd. “You are here to witness the final stage of this ancient ceremony. For many centuries, the wolves of Blizzardcrest have upheld an alliance with the snowcats of Icerun…”

Rayelin could practically feel himself falling asleep. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. If the ceremony went through as planned, the pair would be headed to the peaks of Orrin’s Fangs. They would go alone, yet together, and that would be their chance to slip away. If they went down the far side of the mountains, perhaps the guards wouldn’t notice them. Not until it was too late, anyway.

“I, King Keldrak, and Queen Saiji now call the heirs to the stage.”

Rayelin glanced at Kenta, who was already stepping forward. This was it.

The only thing he could feel was fear. Fear that ran colder and deeper than the worst of Icerun’s blizzards. Fear that they had been caught.

“I thought you said the far side of the peaks would be unguarded!” Rayelin snapped, glancing back at the angry pack that chased them.

“I thought it wouldn’t be!” Kenta growled back.

“Now what are we supposed to do?”

“Just keep running! I’ll think of something.”

The rocky terrain soon gave way to snowy fields, making running easier. Rayelin slowed to follow Kenta, knowing the snowcat would be able to dodge the hidden crevasses beneath the snow.

Everything had gone wrong. First, the wind had kicked up, creating a small hurricane of snow that delayed the ceremonies. Then it was decided that a group of guards should accompany the duo to the peaks, in case of any further danger. And then the guards had, for some unknown reason, circled around to the back of the mountain, and alerted both the pack and the snowcats to the pair’s escapade.

Rayelin cast a quick glance at Kenta as they ran. They couldn't run for much longer; even Rayelin could feel himself tiring. The sounds of their hunters were quickly fading behind them, though it was some time before either of them noticed.

“I think we’re safe,” Rayelin panted. “We can probably stop running now.”

Kenta glanced behind them, then slowed to a stop. “That was awesome.”

“Awesome? We almost get caught, and… okay, yeah, it was.” Rayelin laughed softly. He was too happy to pretend to be upset. They were finally free. He glanced around at the seemingly endless snowfield.  “Where do we go from here?”

“You tell me, Prince.”

“I am not a prince! Not anymore. Today, I become just Rayelin!”

“Okay, just Rayelin, where do we go from here?”

Rayelin sat and stared at his companion, completely clueless.

“Maybe I should rephrase that,” Kenta mused. “Where does your girlfriend say we should go from here?”

“She is not my girlfriend!” Rayelin growled defensively. He kept the second part to himself: But I wish she was. “They’re probably still hunting us. They probably won’t ever stop hunting us, so we should get as far away as possible.”

“Murkwood, then,” Kenta said triumphantly. They started to march off, heading for what Rayelin could only hope was a way out of the snowfields.

“Murkwood?” Rayelin echoed. “On the other side of the continent?”

“We have to get as far away as possible, right?”

“But…”

“But nothing,” the snowcat replied simply. “I got us out of the mountains. I can get us out of this snowfield, and out of Icerun, and far away from here.”

“Sure,” the wolf growled softly. He knew the snowcat was right. Kenta was always right – or rather, Kenta was right most of the time.

The companions fell to silence as they walked. The sun was starting to rise now, the clouds overhead parting with a gentle breeze. Rayelin lost himself in his thoughts once more, trying to ignore the cold that was seeping into his fur.

He was happy, wasn’t he? This was what he had wanted, after all. Life as a commoner, without the flashy jewels and warm blankets and luxurious pillows that the royals of the palace possessed. 

Perhaps he felt a smidge of doubt, thinking about his future. Perhaps he felt some regret, leaving an easy life of royalty for a life of hardship and survival. Perhaps he had made the wrong choice.

If he’d even had a choice in the first place, of course. Maybe this wasn’t his choice at all. He thought he had never believed those ancient tales, stories of how the Creators decided the fate of all of Loria. But as he gazed out across the snowfield, he began to realize that maybe he did.

This was what the Creators wanted for him. This was his fate. This was his life now.