his heart raced for his love as he felt his hands tracing over his skin and his lips -pressed against his in an intense moment of fiery passion. something he’d never imagined himself to feel yet here he was. once lyrel noticed gael removing the lower half of his clothes, the pit of his stomach grew warm with anticipation, though, he hesitated in doing the same. it’d been so long, he wasn’t sure if he was going to remember everything from before. what if it wasn’t as good? what if he messed up? but he was able to push aside his worries by just thinking of how this was gael and it would all be okay in the end. it was enough to get him eager to follow gael’s lead.
As he had done that fateful, magical night they shared, Gael wasn’t going to rush nor pressure Lyrel into the act. He respected him too much to be so selfish, especially when it came to this. His feet fumbled around trying to get rid of the boots as he used one hand to push his trousers and underthings down his hips, but if Lyrel needed time to do the same (or even if he changed his mind!) then he would wait. They finally had ‘forever’ now; Gael would wait for his love for as long as required, for there was no more rush. Taking a break in his kisses to recover his breath, the Rivaini wrapped one arm around Lyrel and whispered tender words in his native tongue into his ear, something that could be loosely translated to: “ You are the stars of my night, the light in my darkness, the softest and sweetest of summer breezes, and I love you just as fondly. ”
The Pontiff Sulyvahn bestowed a double-slashing sword upon a distant daughter of the formal royal family, ordering her to serve first as a dancer, and then as an outrider knight, the equivalent to exile.
at some point during the trip she managed to fall asleep. it was much of a surprise given all the shit she’d gone through but she had tried so hard to put off falling asleep only because she was terrified of letting her guard down. it was easier to do so on the bus though because at least then she was able to curl against thaniel and know that he was there to keep her safe. still though, she woke up within the hour from her own anxieties.
the trailer was practically heaven to her at this point. something that felt like home. ( she wasn’t going to be able to go to her apartment any time soon anyways ). it took her a bit to answer his question, too focused on trying to get herself to realize that she wasn’t stuck in that room anymore. that she was safe. “ a shower. ” she nodded. couldn’t remember the last time she had a proper one. “ please. ”
With nothing more but a simple nod, he gave her shoulder a gentle touch and opened the door to the trailer cubicle that was his bathroom. He got the shower head running, closed the door again and helped her out of her clothes while the water warmed up. “ Here, lemme give you a hand... ”
Thaniel was as careful as a carpenter giving life to a block of wood. He was known for being good at his job, after all. His calloused fingers untied the laces of her shoes and pulled them off, socks and all, first. Next, it was her coat, sweater and shirt. The more of her skin was revealed in the dim neon lights coming through the window, the more his stomach churned and his anger rose and his soul broke. A small part of him wondered how she was still alive.
“ Alright, hold on. ” For once, he was capable of concealing his emotions for the sake of not making Shel feel worse. In an instant he got rid of his clothes too and then held her hands to help her get on her feet.
STORY: Orpheus was born in a small noble House of lower caste, in a median sized settlement concealed in a valley. His family had a manor that sat on the tallest hill, with a view of the rest of the town. They had money, power over the people of the valley, some influence beyond the mountains, and all the comforts life could offer. Even so, Orpheus never had an easy life. His lineage was predominantly one of brave knights and glorious warriors that had fought in wars both famous and forgotten, and whose ancestors had taken over the rule of the settlement many centuries before. This was a tradition that was continued by his father and three older siblings.
Orpheus was expected to follow the same path, but he simply wasn’t cut out for it. His brothers and sister, all black of hair and physically capable, were proficient in a variety of weapons and combat, as well as apt for survival in the wilderness, and so fit the norm of House Cirillo; Orpheus, on the other hand, was pale, small and slim with hair as white as the first snows of winter, exquisite child-like features, and a better affinity for strategy games, books and magic. He was barely able to lift a sword and despised accompanying his father and siblings on their hunting trips. Being the black sheep of the family, the disappointing runt, his parents tended to either ignore him or compare him to their other more impressive children, and those children preferred to tease him and amuse themselves making him believe he was adopted rather than defend him. Family life was a nightmare for the young man, and he spent a good portion of his time in his bedchambers or the manor’s library.
Fortunately, five years after his birth, Orpheus had two new siblings: twin boys, Rastus and Reko, whom he loved and, perhaps more importantly, loved him as well. For some reason, Orpheus was their favorite brother; they followed him anywhere, pleaded with him to do magic tricks or read a story, and were more than happy to join him playing chess (which he let them win at most of the time, especially so when they were too young to understand how to play). Even when the elder brother was occupied with his studies, the twins were perfectly content sitting nearby, doodling on scrap pieces of parchment while he worked. As was the case, they were left under Orpheus’ supervision a great deal of the time, outside of training.
Years passed and the boy grew, but no matter how much he begged his parents to let him study magic, they wouldn’t allow it. They were insistent that he would become a fighter like their ancestors, and anything else would bring shame to the family. This continued until the winter Orpheus turned 14 years old, when he took the twins out for a recreational walk through the settlement. He got distracted for only a handful of seconds to take a look at some magic crystals in the market, and just like that, the twins vanished. Orpheus searched and searched for hours, desperately calling out their names and asking every other inhabitant he crossed if they had seen the boys, until he had no choice but to come home in tears to report he had lost his brothers. After what seemed felt an eternity of yelling and accusing and blaming, Orpheus exploded in desolation and repressed anger to vow he would find the twins and, for better or worse, bring them home once again. On that same night, his father and mother finally gave up on their weakling son and let him have his wish: he was sent to the doorstep of a wizardly mentor to study magic the following day, with little more than a few changes of clothes and his notebooks in a travelling trunk.
Now, at 18 years old, Orpheus is reaching the end of his apprenticeship and is nearly ready to set out into the world to fulfill his promise. Whatever comes to pass, he will find his brothers, or perish trying.
“ well, who am i to argue such a request from my lovely wife? ” he still had some charm in him at least. only for her. he moved to take her hands so he could bring them up to his lips, settling a soft peck on them before standing up and guiding her to follow.
Without hesitation, Maera stood to her feet whilst holding her husband’s hand, then let one of her arms wrap around his as, together once more, they made their way to their bedroom. She said nothing more because there was no need for words; with the morning, she hoped, their lives would return to normal, which was just what she wished for. Nothing more and nothing less.
When he was four years old, Cyran met a stray mabari pup while visiting one of the neighboring villages in the Coast with his family. The dog immediately imprinted on the boy, so obviously they had to bring her home with them, otherwise she would simply follow them whether they liked it or not (and certainly there weren’t any complaints from Cyran’s part). He named the black mabari Alais and the two are inseparable. As they grew up, you never saw one without the other. At one point, when she got big enough, Cyran was even able to ride her like a pony, which was a rather funny sight. He was visibly sad when he got too big to be carried around on Alais’ back.
One time, when Cyran turned thirteen, he took his faithful companion and ventured into the forest for a walk. With no supervision from his parents nor brother, and with a burning desire to explore, he wandered beyond the limitations his father and mother had imposed on their children, further and further away from safety. Predictably, the young man soon encountered danger: a bear who was not happy to see strangers in his territory. Alais, already quite grown and built, didn’t hesitate to step in between her elf and the threat. Cyran did his best to help fend off the beast using his bow and rocks after running out of arrows, but he was no match for such a foe. He would have died, were it not for the brave mabari. The fight was long and intense, a blur of claws, teeth and fur, roars and growls echoing through the trees, but Alais prevailed, killing the bear. Still, she didn’t come out of the encounter without some serious injuries, bad enough to render her too weak to walk. Cyran had to build a makeshift gurney with a pair of fallen tree branches and his cloak, and so dragged her back home as fast as his legs and Alais’ weight allowed him. Fortunately, she survived.
To this day, Alais still has scars from that fight with the bear on her shoulders, muzzle and left flank. While tending her wounds, Maera found a broken off tooth buried in the mabari’s flesh, and later on, once it became clear she would be alright, Cyran made her a leather collar and wove it with a few beads and the tooth, so she could wear it as a medal; a reminder of Alais’ fierce battle and a symbol of her courage and her victory defending Cyran.
just hearing their laughs and seeing the smiles on their faces was enough for him. this was all more than enough, really. he had a warm home filled with a beautiful wife and beautiful children. it didn’t matter that he turned a scolding into something playful. all he cared about was the laughter he currently shared with his kids. “ alright you two – ” dareth spoke up as he embraced them both and stifled a laugh towards cyran’s hiccups. “ let’s take you out of the kitchen so you’re not tempted to steal anymore snacks before supper. ”
“ Guess we’ll just have to find something else to do, ” the boy sighed dramatically before standing up straight and holding onto his baby sister’s hand. Hopefully the two of them were done with the secret cookie stealing toddler stealth. Hopefully. “ C’mon, let’s go find Lyrel and see what he’s up to. ”
Since their maternal grandfather was a maker of musical instruments such as reed pipes, harps and lutes, Maera grew up with music in her heart (before the Circle, of course), and so it was expected that some of her children inherited that talent. Cyran is a decent singer and Fen started practicing the lute when she was 12 years old. Together, the two often make duets at home, and sometimes in the neighboring villages, for coin and for fun. They do it mostly only for their family, however; their mother is absolutely delighted while watching them, filled with joy and pride.
now, dareth is a hunter – a good one at that – and he was part of the inquisitor’s inner circle which only proved how fine of a soldier he was. his children plotting against him right before his eyes did not go unnoticed but that didn’t mean he was about to ruin their fun. he was a strict guy sure enough and looked as if he would never let his children have any fun for the sake of making them look just as stoic as himself.
though it was proven that wasn’t the case as he let both these little elves take him down with what seemed like perfect ease. maera taught him long ago, when lyrel was still tiny enough to nearly fit in the palms of dareth’s hands, that moments like these were good to share. sometimes he just needed to let himself be a kid again too. “ oh no! ” that didn’t mean his acting was all that great as he pretended to be trampled and tickled. “ you’ve got me now! ”
“ No mercy for you! ” Cyran proclaimed triumphantly while he and Fen tickled their father as much as they could. The boy laughed loud enough for the two, but the girl was so filled up with amusement and joy, her ears and cheeks turned bright red. The two siblings had a bright light in their eyes that could only indicate happy children, who had everything they could ever want or need.
Not a long while passed when Fen and Cyran decided Dareth had enough, and instead of the tickles they hugged him, both gasping for air and stifling more giggles (Cyran even got a case of hiccups). “ Alright -hic!- Fen, I think we -hic!-showed him. ”
“ aye, that’s right. she would. but, your hunger is understandable. you’re both growing children after all. ” he looked a fen as well. “ and don’t let your brother rope you into stuff like this. ” dareth teased while ruffling up some of fen’s hair. “ or else i’ll have to tickle you both some more. ” with a grin he wiggled his fingers at his daughter, as if to warn that he was going to tickle her again but never actually doing it.
Without producing a sound, Fen giggled and ran to go hide behind her brother when their father threatened them with more tickles. From around Cyran’s back, the little girl peeked with a very cheeky grin and the two children gave each other a knowing look, like partners in crime plotting their next feature.
“ I don’t like tickles, do you? ” He asked, to which she shook her head no, making the thick black ropes of her hair flip around her face. “ You know what that means, right? ” More nodding from her, then the two turned to Dareth with mischief in their eyes. “ GET HIM!! ” Cyran roared bravely as together, they pounced on their dad to try and give him a taste of his own medicine.
“ well, you’re correct there. ” he brought his hand to cyran’s chin and had him look back up at him. “ and don’t hide your face. it shows weakness. ” probably not something he should be preaching about to his young children but… even after all this time he was still learning. “ how do you think your mother would feel if you spoiled your dinner? ”
The little boy obeyed and held up his head to look at his father, even if it was difficult to hold his gaze after doing something wrong (but perhaps that was the point of the lesson, wasn’t it?). And Fenkas, ever silent but observant, took note of Dareth’s words and imitated her brother right away. “ She would be upset, ” Cyran answered with regret in his tone.
Fen was born mute, so since very early on Maera and Dareth had to figure out how to help her communicate and express herself without the use of words. One way (with Varric’s assistance) was through books about sign language, and another was a simple whistle. Whenever she was out of sight and needed something from her parents or brothers, all she needed to do was blow on the whistle. Dareth made her one to carry around her neck, which she still has to this day.
Bonus: some times she liked to scare Lyrel and Cyran by sneaking up behind them and blowing really loud, especially when they got on her nerves. Eventually, she grew out of it though (luckily for the boys).
“ that’s my boy. ” now cyran got a small kiss to his temple as well and was set down beside fen. “ the both of you should know better. if you want something you always come and ask me or your mother for help. you could have hurt yourselves. ”
“ It’s almost dinner time, but Fen and I got really hungry, ” Cyran explained meekly, tucking his hands behind his back and staring at his boots while Fenkas nodded once more, pouting. “ We thought you would say no and that we would have to wait. ”
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