#whew I do love me some Tarnished/Reader x D x Rogier tho.

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

Read this one fic and now I can’t stop thinking about the Roundtable Hold functioning as something a little bit more intimate than a general meeting place.

Just.

Tarnished from across the lands coming in and out, desperate for some form of connection and comfort. Most of them hear about Fia, and some of those transient warriors will seek out her embrace. Her touch is fleeting, however, and sooner or later they return to the Lands Between (and the battle. Always the battle.)

The ones who frequent the Hold start growing closer to each other, exchanging tips and tales and touches as they watch the rest of their kind throw themselves upon the flame of ambition and burn until nothing is left. Maybe Gideon knows, watching silently from the sidelines. Maybe he just wonders when his daughter started communicating in a language he does not know, one spoken in hands that linger on shoulders and trail down spines. One spoken in glances and quirked lips, voiced at some unseen signal. One heard in hushed conversations and empty seats at the dinner table that only garner a giggle or an eye roll.

Hewg watches these weary warriors slip into rooms together in twos and threes and mores (still so young, even after all of their trials and tragedies). They finally realized what he knew all along, that they wear shackles just as damning as his own. At least they wore them together.

(Ack, this was just supposed to be a precursor to orgies in the Roundtable Hold and then Feels happened.)

Roundtable Orgies with feels. Whew, don't I love it.

I bet you it was all twunky Rogier's doing. I bet you he started it with this new generation.

Meanwhile, Corrhyn is busy condemning them to Elden Hell or sumn even though he wants it baaad. lmaoo