I write fanfiction, original fantasy/sci-fi/romance, and poetry. I create art, mostly digital, though I'm definitely still learning. 18+ Queer Content.
Major Series to Follow
Original Fiction:
Cryptic Hearts: A romance visual novel, you protect cryptids
Knightly Fiction: Short pieces with knights, royalty, jesters, maidens, dragons, etc. Often spicey.
Heart of a Cryptid: You get to romance Cryptids, 18+
Chapter 1 of 10
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-The Letter-
Alecander West sat at his desk in Joja Corp. staring at the computer screen and thinking about putting a gun in his mouth. It would be the easy way out of everything, and if he went up to the corporate offices, he could make a big ole mess right on the CEO's new carpet. But then Larry, the janitor, would be the one to have to clean it, and that wouldn't be fair to the poor guy.
As Alecander clicked his mouse into the next box, typed in the next round of invoice numbers, he suddenly remembered the letter. He glanced around and found his co-workers all absorbed at their desks and not a supervisor in sight. Pulling open the drawer, he saw the letter neatly tucked inside and pulled it out. It was something his late grandfather had left him, and Alecander had been too distraught over the man's loss to open it right away. So he'd put it there to wait until he was ready.
It sat on his palm now as though he were weighing the contents, but no matter how hard he stared at it, he couldn't see the words on the other side. He would have to open it. So, Alecander took a deep breath and finally opened it, seven months after it had been given to him.
Westfold Farm. Stardew Valley. Pelican Town.
It wasn't far outside of Zuzu City, but it might be far enough for Alecander to get away from all this shit. Maybe a quiet farming town would be a good place for him to get his head right. But farming? Alecander had been many things in his thirty-four years, but farmer wasn't one of them. College drop-out, soldier, mental patient, unemployed in his mom's house, data entry clerk, and now farmer? Well, farming wasn't the craziest thing on that list.
Folding the letter carefully, Alecander tucked it into his back pocket and grabbed his work badge. He went to the front desk at the entrance of the large, dull beige building and slapped the badge down in front of the security officer.
"Hey Clark," he said with an unnatural smile for this dreary shithole.
"Uh hey, Alecander. What's uh, what are you doing?" He looked at his watch, found it wasn't noon yet, and looked back in confusion. No one left before lunch. Hell most people didn't leave for lunch at all.
"I quit, Clark. Can't do this anymore. So I'm handing in my badge. Mail me any paperwork, okay?" He tapped his fingers on the counter and turned away with a wave over his shoulder. "You're better than this place, Clark. You should really find a life outside of Joja Corp."
"W-w-wait! Alecander. I don't know how this works. I don't think-"
He didn't hear the rest of Clark's sentence as he walked out and the front door slammed with a heavy resonance. Well, okay, it didn't sound any heavier than any other day except for the knowledge that Alecander would never step back inside giving it that ring of finality that felt good. It felt right.
That day, he began packing. That week he bought a second-hand pickup truck that seemed good for farming. That weekend he was driving out of the city to Pelican Town.
-The Farm-
The drive into the valley from the city was nice. Early spring weather meant Alecander could roll the windows down in his truck and rest an arm on the window ledge. A thrum of nervous energy ran through him as he pulled away from the city and drove into the valley. He wasn't sure what there was to be scared about; visiting new places was something that had been put on him for years. Hell, he'd had his ass dragged to Gotoro to fight in a war. Coming to a small town should not be as scary as fighting in a war.
When he pulled up the main road, it became dirt and split into two sections, one to the right with a sign that was faded but said Westfold Farm, and one to the left that read Pelican Town. He went right. The road was long and came through a forest, but when he pulled into the property and parked the truck, Alecander was a little lost for words.
The farmhouse was more of a cabin at most, and from outside it looked nice. The roof needed work, though. The fields needed clearing. And there was some broken down building nearby that may have been a barn or greenhouse at some point. Fuck. He had a lot of work on his hands.
But that's why he came, wasn't it? He needed to put his mind to something else, and this project would certainly take a lot of his brain power. Good.
Alecander cut the truck off and climbed out, stretching his arms over his head and working out the kinks from the few hours of driving. He took in a deep breath and relaxed. The air was nice up here, and it smelled weird. Earthy, but nice. He stuffed his hands in his jeans' pockets and walked around the property a bit, getting a feel for everything. It was a good thing he came from money because he would not be making much the first year with this mess.
Pushing open the door to the house carefully, he was hit by a pungent decaying smell. This place had been shut up for a while and he was sure something had died in that fireplace. He went to the windows and yanked them open to get some air flow then stepped back outside and stood on the porch. Looking down the pathway that led to town, he saw two people come walking down the lane. An older man with a mustache and brown cap and a pretty red headed woman with strong looking arms.
He leaned his shoulder against the porch post and watched them approach. When they got close, he gave a little wave but didn't move.
"You must be Mr. West," said the man. He reached a hand out as he climbed the steps of the house. "I'm Mayor Lewis. I knew your grandfather."
Alecander raked his eyes up and down before reaching a hand out. "Pleasure. But please, call me Alecander."
Mayor Lewis nodded. "This here is Robin. She's our local carpenter, and likely your new best friend as you get this place up and running again."
Alecander stuck a hand out to her which she took. "Good to meet you, Robin."
"And you. Though I gotta say, this place is a mess Mr. Alecander. You know it'll take a lot of work?"
"Robin!" Mayor Lewis gasped as though she'd just said something amazingly offensive.
"Sure do, ma'am. But that's just fine with me." Alecander smiled. "I'm no stranger to hard work. Though, if you're a carpenter, I could certainly use some advice on this roof." He jerked a thumb back at the building for emphasis. "When you've got the time, that is."
Robin smiled and Alecander thought again that she was pretty. Not his type, but aesthetically very nice. He appreciated her straightforward attitude, too.
"Absolutely. I could always use the business."
Polite, but Alecander didn't miss the point. Payment was expected. "Perfect. I'll take a few days to settle in and then we can strike something up." He would need to get to know a lot of the businesses in town, he was sure.
Robin nodded and looked at Mayor Lewis who had fallen quiet during their exchange. He looked slightly uncomfortable as Alecander studied his face again. He looked like a man who was comfortable within the bounds of interactions he could predict and think a few steps ahead in. This was different; Alecander was a new element with habits the mayor didn't yet understand.
"If you need anything at all, please let me know," Mayor Lewis said with a definitive nod. "My door is always open to the folks of Pelican Town, you included now. If you get a chance, come to town and take a look around. Pierre will have starter seeds, Marnie has farming equipment on her ranch, and if you're into fishing, Willy runs the shop at the docks."
Alecander shuffled the names in his brain and tried to store them away in his memory. It would likely take him a few weeks for that to settle in. A shame. Alecander used to be great with names before his stint in the mental hospital.
Still, he nodded like he got it all and held out his hand. "Again, it was a pleasure to meet you both. I'm sure I'll see you in town in the next few days."
They each shook his hand and were off again, strolling back down the lane toward town. Alecander watched them until they disappeared down a tree lined lane then looked back out over what would eventually be his farm. A lot of work.
Getting things moved into the house proved annoying. He didn't want to fill spaces that would clearly need work, but he also didn't want to leave his truck full of his shit. Likely, he'd need it to make a few runs into town and the ranch for equipment after all.
The cabin itself had an open build with an area for a living room to one side, a bathroom tucked next to that, and an efficient kitchen with enough room to put a small dining table and a couple chairs. The master bedroom was upstairs, and there was a guest bedroom, too. Also, in the kitchen was what looked like a root cellar. Alecander was not ready to brave that one. The place was enough for him.
It was well into the night when Alecander finally kicked off his shoes, stripped down to his boxers, and fell into bed. He fell to sleep thinking he didn't even shower first and would regret that tomorrow.
-The Town-
It took two days for Alecander to get his truck emptied. It should have been sooner than that, but he found himself lounging on his front porch enjoying the soft noises of the woods around him and the fresh air. Things were inside, but a lot sat in their boxes. Still, it was good enough that he felt like a day in town would be nice.
Starting up the pickup, Alecander had to turn it over a couple times before the ignition took. He gritted his teeth at this, hoping he didn't need to fix the thing so quickly after buying it. It made the trip into the town proper though, and Alecander parked in the small lot near the few stores. Not many cars around, but there were people wandering the town.
As he stepped out of the truck into the neatly paved streets, Alecander drew looks immediately. Not surprising with how small the place was, but he still felt a sudden overwhelming desire to get back in the truck and drive off. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck and then dragged his hand through his messy, brown hair to retie it in a bun. It had the look of purposefully messy, and was everything the military hadn't allowed.
Looking around it was easy to spot the grocery. Pierre's name was plastered on it, and it filled the memory of Lewis giving out names the first day. Alecander patted his butt pocket making sure his wallet was there before he walked across the square to the store. When he pulled open the door, a woman with deep purple hair was about to push from the other side and she made a surprised noise as she looked at him. He offered a smile, stepped aside and pulled the door open for her.
"Pardon me, miss."
"Oh." She blushed and hurried out, not looking back as she wound her way along a path that went up an incline away from the plaza.
Alecander ducked inside and was surprised at how large the space was. There were a couple neat rows of shelved goods, a few trays of fresh fruits and veggies along the other side, and raw goods and jars along a wall. Behind a counter was a man with a large smile and glasses. Something about him made Alecander uncomfortable. He couldn't place it, and brushed it aside. Returning the smile, he came up to the counter and set his hands on top, leaning and looking at the products in the glass. Starter seeds.
"Welcome to Pierre's! You must be that new farmer who just moved in. Mr. West's grandson, right?"
"That's right. Name's Alecander. I'm guessing you're Pierre?" He lifted a hand for a handshake.
Pierre nodded. "What can I get you today, Alecander?" He shook his hand. "All my produce is fresh, and I always have seasonal seeds at the ready. Even a few saplings in the back."
In the two days Alecander had sat at his new home, he'd made a point of studying up on farming. He remembered a few times as a little kid visiting the farm, too. As he looked down at the seeds, he saw the ones he wanted immediately and felt some anxiety slipping away. He put in his order and Pierre brought all the packets up for him to inspect. He looked, to be polite, but had no idea what constituted a good or bad seed.
"Thank you for your help with this," Alecander said as he pulled out cash.
"Oh, no, thank you for your patronage. Come back any time you need anything." Pierre smiled widely and Alecander got that off feeling again.
On his way out, he held the door open for another person. A man this time in an old sweatshirt and a pair of eyes so sad that Alecander froze as he looked into them for a moment. He was staring, he realized, when the man frowned at him and ducked his head. Swallowing hard, Alecander quickly shuffled away and dumped his goods in through the open window of his truck.
He thought a moment about rolling the windows up and locking the doors now that he had items inside, but this didn't seem like the place where that was necessary. In Zuzu City, Alecander would never leave anything unattended. Here felt different.
He turned and looked around again, wondering where he should go next. Then he caught sight of Mayor Lewis at the same time that the man spotted him. He should have turned away, gave a polite wave and made his way somewhere else, but Alecander instead let Lewis come over to him.
And that was how he ended up being led around town and introduced to more people than he could possibly remember. They ended the tour at the Stardrop Saloon near nightfall, and the place was full of people. People whose faces looked familiar but whose names Alecander hadn't had time to remember.
Those people included that man with the sad eyes. He was sitting at a corner table, hands wrapped around a beer mug and sad eyes gazing at its depths like he expected the beer to give him the answers to the world's most pressing questions.
Now, Alecander had never been someone who had believed in something like love at first sight, but there was definitely a draw to this man that he could not deny. It felt like the man was waiting for something or someone to swoop in and save him, and for some damned reason, Alecander wondered if it could be him to do so.
"Let's get a seat over here." Mayor Lewis's voice cut through the rush of thoughts that had overcome Alecander's mind. "I'll introduce you to Marnie, since you said you needed equipment. Clint will be here, too eventually, and he'll have tools."
Tearing his eyes from the sad eyed man, Alecander followed Lewis to a table full of people. He was starting to feel like an animal in a cage being circled by too many people at once. Still, he put on a smile and hoped this would all be worth it.
It was a warm, breezy afternoon and Finch knew exactly where he wanted to wander during some free time. The knights were always practicing near a flower-covered field, and the jester enjoyed spying on them working up a sweat.
But today as he wandered along, he found a better treat waiting for him. Spread out from a trail of armor was a knight captain, sweaty and lounging half-naked in the flowers. Ser Alrik, a man Finch had been eyeing a lot lately. And who had been eyeing him. Finch may have even wrote a teasing little piece that he'd performed to Alrik at a feast the other night, and even with a helmet on, it was easy to see he'd been blushing at the crude verses.
Jingling his way down to the knight, Finch flopped next to him in the grass. "Ser Alrik. What a state of disrobed I find you in. Certainly, I would have made my song a bit more bawdy had I known of your penchant for public undress."
"Finch!" Alrik startled.
Without the helm, Finch could see the man's surprisingly tanned complexion and deep brown eyes. He must be out of his armor and in the sun more than Finch realized.
"You startle too easily, Ser Knight."
Alrik snorted and shook his head. "I just didn't expect a jester to be so close to the training grounds."
A spark lit Finch's eyes and he winked as he said, "How else could I spy on such a lovely creature if not risking the smells of you brutes?"
"Sorry we're not doused in your lovely perfumes. They wouldn't last with the work we do, anyway."
Finch leaned over, brushing his shoulder along Alrik's, close enough to dip his nose close to Alrik's neck. He inhaled slowly and breathed out in Alrik's ear. "You do smell so bad, Ser Alrik."
Alrik shuddered, his breath hitched, and Finch decided then that he would find his way to Alrik's rooms this night.
"Well, I must be off. The King is likely looking for my entertainment." Finch jumped to his feet, leaving Alrik gaping-mouthed as he trotted back toward the castle.
"Fucking tease," Alrik murmured, just barely heard by the retreating jester.
I did a little sketch up of Zeny, based on the Rosy Maple Moth. She's one of the five romance options in Heart of a Cryptid. Zeny is outdoorsy, flirty, and loves to lounge in the sun. She appreciates honesty and humor.
I commissioned @lucabulary to create a more solid concept piece of Zeny. Here's what I sent him:
And here's what Lucabulary sent me in return!!!
You should check him out. He's working on his own comic and has some neat concept art up.
A Visual Novel in the making, one where you get to romance cryptids! Doing the initial writing in a script format and getting some sketches/concept art going.
As for your romance options, we've got Zeny the mothman, Patrick the bigfoot, Jelani the kelpie, Leotie the thunderbird, and Paria the jersey devil.
Here's a sneak-peak at the very first scene -
Text From Image:
EXT. SAFE HAVEN BOOKSTORE AND CAFE - MORNING
You stand in the warm sun, looking at the sign for Safe Haven, your new workplace. You’re supposed to meet the owner, JELANI TOWNSEND, and learn your duties as the newest cafe attendant. You feel:
[Nervous] Moving here had been the right thing, but everything was still new. You just hope you won’t mess everything up.
[Excited] Moving here had been exciting, and going somewhere new was just what you needed. You can’t wait to get started.
JELANI
(With a smile)
Excuse me, you must be MC, correct?
You turn to see a handsome man in his mid-forties with glasses and long locs coiled into a bun.
MC
[Nervous] Ah…yes, I’m MC. Are you Jelani?
[Excited] That’s me. And you must be Jelani.
JELANI
I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Shall we head inside and I’ll show you around?
The sun was warm on the golden-flower covered hill. The clash of steel and grunts of knights on the training field not far away chased along behind Ser Alrik as he shed his layers on the grass. A breeze swept over the sweat-soaked shirt he wore, cooling his overheated body. Alrik dropped the last of the metal pieces from his hands and took a few more steps into the wild flowers before collapsing on his back.
He stared up at the bright blue sky and watched the fluffy clouds float on by. Inhaling a deep breath, Alrik let it out slowly. A long morning of training felt nice, but stretching out in a warm field and taking time to just be - that felt nicer. He didn't often allow himself time to just sit and think; Alrik was the type to always be on guard and ready for the next duty.
Just an hour. Ser Alrik could take just an hour. And if he knew that Finch the Jester liked to take an afternoon walk in this field, well, he wouldn't admit to that out loud.
A "The Pitt" inspired playlist to listen to while working and thinking about the last two seasons. Who knows, maybe listening to it will get me to make some fanfic/fanart, too!
The Iron Bull, an accompanying piece to my Dorian Pavus painting. I love me some Adoribull. Originally had this as an acrylic painting, then uploaded to csp to make a print for a friend <3
Dorian Pavus - I cannot for the life of me find the reference pic for this anymore. I hand painted this after seeing an image like it that I LOVED, but that was years ago now. I've searched, reversed image searched, and I can't find it again. But I found this in my stash of canvas paintings, uploaded it to my digital artpad, and reworked it a bit for a friend who wanted a print of it, and I'm still really happy with how this looks so wanted to share it.
If anyone knows the reference image, I'd love to be able to link it and shoutout the artist!
Some sketching for a design of Ser Alrik! Hopefully will have him done in a few days. Still deciding on his last name of Trogen or Resington. Maybe he'll get a full name and character introduction after I complete his art!
Dorian was five when it had first happened. He was sat out in the backyard of the Pavus Estate watching a nest of colorful birds tweeting for their mother. One particularly adventurous, or perhaps impatient, chick crawled out onto the tree branch and fluttered its wings. It tottered and Dorian held his breath, willing the bird to keep upright. The tiny thing fell and had the misfortune of landing head first on a rock in the roots of the tree. Crying out, Dorian rushed forward and picked up the broken bird. He began to cry when suddenly something cold burbled up in his chest, a feeling like a too cold drink being swallowed down quickly, but in reverse.
A haze of purple washed over Dorian and settled around the bird. It twitched. Dorian’s heart hiccuped and the bird fluttered back to life.
“Oh, healing magic!” gasped Amelia, one of the slaves Halward and Aquinea owned.
Aquinea had just come looking for him, the sudden presence of her and two slaves shocking Dorian from his reverence and concentration. A flash of purple pulled back into Dorian and he heard his mother suck in a hissing breath.
“No,” she said as the bird fell dead once more. “Necromancy.” Aquinea looked down her hard nose, the one Dorian had gained from her, and crinkled her face. “Leave the dead thing alone, Dorian. Come wash yourself for lunch.” She turned away, expecting without a doubt that he would obey immediately.
Dorian hesitated only a moment, casting one last tear-filled glance at the broken baby bird before running after his mother.
~ ~ ~ ~
The first time The Iron Bull questioned the Qun, he wasn’t called The Iron Bull. He had just been given the title Ashkaari in place of his numbers; his horns were still small juts of bone on the sides of his head. He stood in the middle of the large quarters for the children and watched as the girls and boy were split up for their training.
“Why?” he asked. He wanted to play with the little girl whose number had been just before his since she hit harder than most of the others.
Their Tamassran, the one with the broken right horn and the stern yellow eyes, smiled. “Just as the river flows while the mountain stands still, so too these roles of nature are given to us. Now go, little one. You have much to learn with your brothers.” She gave his rear end a sharp slap, inciting him to movement.
Ashkaari ran to catch up with the other boys as they headed for the training yard. He didn’t see how boys and girls were anything like mountains and rivers, but he was sure that Tama had given him precious information. As usual, he stored away the tidbit of wisdom to be understood later on. Out in the yard, the boys were gathered to watch the older Qunari men run their morning drills. Commanders on the sidelines yelled out orders at those in the middle who wielded weapons and shields. Soldiers fell at each other with a ferociousness bred for the battlefield, for glory.
Among them, Ashkaari noticed, was a woman. Her chest was bound tightly, but she stood out with her different build, her larger hips. He felt even more confused now, betrayed even, and his little hands curled into fists.
“Aqun-athlok.” Tama’s voice sounded from behind and he turned. She smiled down at him and then nodded toward the woman. “She is no longer a she. He has chosen this path, this life, and so it shall be his. He will fight by their sides, bleed with them, and they will call him brother so long as this path remains at his feet.”
Ashkaari stared out at the man again with a new light in his eyes, his questions and fears at rest for now. Perhaps his friend could be aqun-athlok as well.
A knock sounded on the heavy doors of Mahanon Lavellan’s room, and he was jolted from his concentration of the reports that were spread across his desk. They were from Harding regarding some of her scout findings and the resources she’d been able to gather out of the Fallow Mires. He put the papers down and went to the doors, pulling them open to find a guardsman shifting nervously from foot to foot. Mahanon had gotten used to people acting anxiously around him, but something about this felt different. An odd tightness formed in his chest as he watched the guard fight with his own mouth for the words.
“Your Worship…” The guard coughed and took a step back. “Seeker Pentaghast requires your presence in the War Room. I’m-I’m sorry.” He bowed his head low and darted away.
Mahanon watched him go with a growing suspicion. The worry that set in had him ignoring the attire he wore and pressed him to head to the War Room immediately. His bare feet were quiet on the stone floors, cautiously avoiding any debris that still remained during the renovations. His mind buzzed as he stepped out, glancing at the hulking, ugly red throne that sat beneath the inquisition banners. Light was streaming in through the enormous colored glass windows behind it, and Mahanon thought that others might find it an impressive sight. He, though, felt it was ostentatious and a waste. Particularly while his chest tightened and made it hard for him to breathe.
Things had been going so well. It actually seemed like they were making progress, taking out shipments of red lyrium and collapsing violent revolutions against their cause. Things were well, but now something had gone wrong. He pushed through the first two sets of doors and found Ambassador Josephine’s desk empty; everyone was gathered then, which meant something big. Mahanon paused outside the War Room doors and listened. He could hear the deep tones of Commander Cullen leaking from behind the heavy wood that separated them.
“...telling him. This is something he needs to hear from someone he trusts.”
“He needs to hear from the one who sent the troops!” Josephine’s higher, melodic voice poured out, closer to the door than Cullen was.
A dread of suspicion knowing filled Mahanon’s lungs, constricting his throat. He just knew . The four voices kicked in all at once, arguing, but the words were lost to Mahanon as he put shaking hands flat to the doors and shoved them open. They creaked open, the metal hinges needing oil.
The room fell quiet. Sunlight poured in from the window, casting light over the marked up map that was stretched across a large tree trunk table. Figurines were set about it, marking their active troop movements, potential allies and rivals, and strong places of resources. It all looked eerily normal, but the feeling in the room was that of tension. Each one of his advisors seemed a coil, tense and ready to spring forth.
“What went wrong?” Mahanon’s voice was already strung out, cracking at the last note as he scanned their faces.
“Inquisitor Lavellan,” Josephine murmured. Her hands clutched at her writing board until her knuckles went white. “We have a new report.” Her eyes shot to Cullen, waiting for him to produce the news.
Cassandra was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over her armored chest and head down so that she wasn't looking Mahanon in the eyes. Still, he sought her gaze, some clue as to what was going on. She’d been there from the start, believing in him after closing the first rift despite his seeming guilt. He needed her support, but she did not seem to want to give it.
Cullen was shifting as anxiously as the guard who had fetched the Inquisitor, while Leliana was seated and staring at the commander.
Mahanon folded his arms over his chest. “What. Happened?”
In another world, another time, we would be at home. Together. I would have loved myself enough to love you the way you deserved. I would have saved myself and held you tightly.
In another timeline, we'd step inside and I would crouch down to talk to our baby. I'd help you out of your shoes and we would go to the couch together.
But this is not that timeline, and I cannot seem to find happiness. I heard you have found peace and I'm grateful for that at least.
In another world, another time, I would have been sure of our relationship. I would have taken your hand when you reached out for help. I would have told you right away that we were going to have a baby together.
In another timeline, we'd step inside and I would watch you stoop down to cradle my tummy, the baby. I'd lean on you as you took my shoes off, and I'd follow you to the couch.
But this is not that timeline, and I have found a new happiness. I wish you could find the same peace and turn from this path you're stuck on.
Accompanying art to @mattmatee's beautiful piece The People We Choose on AO3.
Teaming up with @mattmatee was a fun and I think we created some beautiful work together. Read the emotional rollercoaster of a love story over on A03, and give xim some kudos and comments :D It was a great time participating in the Hankcon Minibang and you should read all the other great stories and like the fantastic accompanying art.
prince goswin takes sir pace's oath of fealty and bestows a pledge seal upon him before the court. pace has an extra verse to his oath for the prince's ears only, drawing speculation about their relationship from the courtiers on the sidelines.
contains: m/m, prince x knight, sexual conversation, teasing, flirting, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, light humiliation, mild dubcon themes, some silliness at the end. 3 minutes total.
this script is based around a lovely monologue written by @alecthewreck (the original post can be found here). when I read it I couldn't resist crafting some gospace to its tune. thank you again alec for letting me borrow your masterful words!
I hope you all enjoy sir pace flustering his prince (and commentary from thistle the jester and sir nym). as usual, this audio is available on soundg-sm as well. cheers :)
(transcript below)
G: Kneel, Sir Knight.
P: [KNEELS]
G: Do you promise your service to this kingdom and take me as your prince?
P: Aye, my lord, I swear my body, blade, and life in service of thee and thine lands, for the protection and glory thereof, until death or my liege release me.
G: Rise, Sir Pace of Ellísion, arm of the royal guard and servant of Dulcedram, and step forth to take your pledge seal.
[RISING, STEPS FORWARD]
[NECKLACE BEING PLACED]
P: [WHISPERING CLOSE] And every moment we are in the public eye, I am yours to command. You have my very soul at your fingertips.
G: [GASPING, WHISPERING BACK] Pace…
P: I will kneel for you, kill for you, bleed for you.
G: We can’t do this here…
P: Your word is the only thing I know. And at night, I'll bring you back to our bed and put you on your knees, teach you what prayer really is. Your body will be mine to worship. Every inch brought to pleasure until you're shaking beneath my hands, pleading with me. And once you've given me everything you have, I will smile and do it once more, until you are crying my name like it's your God's, like it's the only word you have left. This is my oath to you, my liege.
G: [SHUDDERING BREATH]
[CROWD MURMURING]
THISTLE: [BELLS JINGLE] They certainly are taking their honey-sweet time up there.
NYMANDUS: Ja. Do you think they have forgotten the rest of us are here?
T: I doubt it. I think that’s part of it for them.
N: Part of what?
T: Notice the quickened breath in the shoulders and the clouded look upon the face of our Prince Goswin.
N: Scheiße. You do not think that they are—?
T: Playing hide the sword in their spare time? [LAUGH] Oh, I’d put money on it.
N: I do not believe it. Sir Pace, he is… thorny. He would not.
T: One letter too many there.
N: Wie bitte?
T: Three crowns says they are.
N: I am not a gambling man, Thistle.
T: Alright. [JINGLE] Five crowns.
N: [SHORT HESITATION] Ja, alright, okay. Only yes because I am confident that you are wrong.
T: [GIGGLE] A confident knight is a powerful thing, Sir Nym.
G: [ADDRESSING THE ROOM, FLUSTERED] Th-Thank you all for your attendance, friends and courtiers. Uh… you are all dismissed.
![[NSFW] Sir Pace & Prince Goswin — Oath](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e884f75566bdd9934de92169fc402999/4dbfe404c4644e64-2b/s500x750/147799f1e1072aef64b66eb7b9d07444db030f4f.png)