#levi writes stuff

[dogboy-willgraham]

our kinda love is divine darling for who else other than apollo himself upon his lovers chest could bless us with this  this beautiful godly thing who are we to reject gifts from those above? let us celebrate and sing offer apollo your best wines in thanks rejoice in the name of love like that of gods!

a little thing i made thinkin' about how amazing it is to love men and be a nb trans guy.

[lightning-court]

Stitches and Smiles

This is the first fanfiction written for our Court with our members by our amazing Healer, Levi @lifelillysandmagicwands. It’s just a random day in the court and please do like/reblog and leave feedback for Levi if you enjoy this! Welcome to a little glimpse of The Lightning Court. Enjoy!

Levi awoke to her summons bell ringing wildly, breaking the calm silence of her private room and scaring her so badly she fell off her bed. She toppled out of her warm blankets, knocking over a pile of books and effectively waking up Ori who was napping on the windowsill. She’d make up for frightening her later, she thought as her cat glared at her and then slipped under her still toasty blankets. She glanced at the clock that sat on her wall- it was far too early to be up. But alas, duty calls. Or more specifically, the injured did. She quickly threw up her tangled hair into a bun, splashed water onto her face and grabbed her work satchel before running out the door. As of three weeks ago, Levi was living in the castle. During training season, injuries were at a high-and so the demand for a live-in healer was as well. But unfortunately, it meant that sleep was a rare commodity for her and Milly, the other court healer. Levi’s stomach gurgled its opposition to work before breakfast. Perhaps Alexa was up already, making breakfast for the High Ladies, but there was no smell of pancakes or coffee in the air, so it was unlikely. Strolling through the halls of Hiraeth and occasionally tripping over her own feet, she concentrated hard so as to not stumble like a drunkard, lest someone come upon her at this ungodly hour and think she was abusing the generosity of her High Ladies. Levi made note to ask them for a different mean of summons. She had been woken too many a night by the loud clanging of that awful iron bell. Maybe they'd send a night guard to fetch her next time someone decided it would be a wonderful idea to throw daggers half drunk at 3am.

Realizing she had unintentionally started to frown and furrow her brow, she tried shaking off her bitter mood. As she turned the corner into the hospital wing, the unusual silence reached her ears. If someone was injured, surely there would be voices speaking, or at the very least, cries of pain. But there was nothing. She must have been called to the High Ladies’ tower directly.

Tonight was Milly’s turn for the late shift, but it seemed that her schedule was getting to her, since she seemed to be curled into a ball and completely asleep in one of the medical beds. Let her sleep, Levi mused; after all, that was her some days ago-always passing out, not so much at the castle hospital wings, but always in the hallways and during meals. Walking past a gently snoring Milly, Levi opened the door to the mixing room to look for her work clothes. She’d walked all the way there in her training pants and sleep shirt, which was a sheer grey and kept riding up her stomach, as well as slipping off her shoulders. It would be rather awkward to work in that, if the patient was conscience.

After replacing her rumpled clothes for her far more appropriate healer’s attire, she slipped back out of the hospital wing, only slightly more awake than when she came.

It was a rare day in the city when they didn't have a sky full of dark grey and black clouds, crackling with thunder and lightning. Today however, there was sunlight softly dripping through the thin white clouds that swirled around with the east winds. This must be something the Búrkalag was working on. It was a nice change of pace, all her flowers and plants would be grateful for the extra sunshine. With a renewed sense of focus, Levi found herself climbing the 150+ stairs to the fourth floor of the castle, making her thank the gods for the still cold air of the early morning.

She approached the open tower ledge and gently untucked her wings, stretching them wide and curling her toes. Tucking her satchel under her arm, she bent her knees and shot up towards the door to the High Ladies’ suite in the highest tower. It only took about a minute to reach the balcony, but it was one minute of very cold ears and wind-lash tears. Levi released a small sigh of relief when her feet touched the solid stone of the balcony. From her spot, she could see the entirety of the west side of the city, and some of the sea close by. Surprisingly, there was little to no wind this high up, and that was thanks to the sheer amount of control the High Ladies had on their surroundings.

Tucking her wings behind her again, she lifted a hand, knocking on the doors softly, and waited. Shifting her weight from side to side, Levi took a moment to prepare herself to greet the High Ladies. It always unnerved her. Settling on “Good day, Milady”, she straightened her back and took a deep breath as the dark blue and purple stain glass door opened.

“Grood-uh, I mean-” She paused her rambling at the sight of a very serious looking August, standing in the doorway with a long billowing robe of royal purple that matched the color beneath her eyes, her blonde hair in a long intricate braid. “What happened?”

The High lady said nothing, only opened the door wider and stepped back into the large room. Levi cautiously stepped in after her, her eyes darting around, searching for signs of blood or something being amiss. But before she could scan the whole room a loud clang made her jump. With a start she looked for the source of the sound, but August shook her head in a silent warning and walked into a side room, off the living space. Following her, Levi heard quiet mumbles and a hushed whisper. Moving the curtain aside she caught full view of High lady El, dumping blood soaked cloths into a very large fireplace. Pausing to watch them catch fire, before walking all the way into the spacious chamber.

“Levi! Thank goodness, come here quickly!” El said, walking halfway to her and gesturing frantically with one hand. “What happened? Who’s hurt?” Levi responded. Knowing it wasn't either of the High Ladies, a weight that had been forming in her chest was lifted. Moving to El’s side, she looked down at the person on the bed who was clad in only a thin white nightgown, looking remarkably pale. Her usually mischievous eyes now filled with pain and confusion.

“Bon?”

“Lev? Why aren't you sleeping?” questioned Labonno, the First-in-Command to the High ladies.

“Me? I'm the healer! What your excuse?”

Bon then gestured to her left forearm with a grimace. Furrowing her brow Levi dropped to one knee and snatched Bon’s arm into her hands. Blood coated her fingers within seconds. “What happened? This is a deep wound Bon, you're going to need stitches before I can reform your skin” Levi mumbled as she searched with one hand through her satchel for gauze, her other clamped on the still bleeding wound. Bon looked at the painting of a large palace on the wall, avoiding her gaze and her question. El spoke up from behind her instead “There are more Levi, at least three”

Raising an incredulous eyebrow, and glanced sideways at Gusty. Who, in response sighed and sat next to Bon on the bed. “Tell her Bon, what did you do last night?”

Bon shifted uneasily, frowning deeply and wrinkling her nose. She glanced up at Gusty cautiously, who in turn gave her a stern sort of glare, something you'd get from your mother after misbehaving. With a sigh of resignation Bon returned her gaze to the healer, too busy quietly mending the second wound she had found on Bon’s side, the first already closely stitched and tingling as it healed over.

“I didn't know this was going to happen. I went out for a stroll on the south side, to take a look at the new bar” she mumbled, clenching her jaw as she recalled the incident. El made a tsk-ing sound with her tongue as she gently braided Bon’s long hair as she added, “And ended up frightening me half to death, showing up at our door so early - looking like you’d been to hell and back, covered in blood no less!” El scolded, giving Bon a solid tap on the top of her head.

“So you went out for a drink? Then what?” continued Gusty, with a raised brow of interest.

“I was trying to talk up a blacksmith when I saw a man across the bar touch a girl's leg and push a drink into her hand” answered Bon, her eyes going cold as she stared straight ahead, lost in the memory and seeming to forget about the pain of her wounds. “He was acting like he owned her. I didn't like the way he stared at her, like she was some kind of meat”

“So you attacked him?” asked El, her large eyes wrinkling around the corners as her lips pulled into a frown.

“Not right away!” Bon defended. “I waited until I was sure she didn't want to be around him - and she didn't! She asked him to leave but he wouldn't go”

“That still doesn't explain why you're so roughed up - you're an exceptional fighter” piped up El. Bon winced before answering “I had...a few drinks-”

“A few?” cut in an extremely sceptical Gusty.

“And I didn't think. I just...lept in- I was so angry I hadn't thought to make a plan”

She curled her legs under her as Levi finished with the last of the stitches, flinching with the moment, before murmuring a quick thanks.

“I didn't know he had friends with him, it was four to one. Yeah, they got in a couple hits, but I still won” Bon added, a wicked grin curling her full lips. Gusty let out a sigh before sitting next to El, giving space for Levi to stand.

Getting up and wiping her crimson stained hands on a cloth from her satchel Levi took a second to check over her work. And after nodding to herself, she pulled out a tin of salve.

“This will help to keep it from itching and scarring. Next time Bon, please try to keep the High Ladies from worrying about you getting into fights” She mumbled as she smeared some across the now fleshy pinky wounds.

Gusty looked up at her, a small smile gracing her elegant features.

“I'm not worried about my First-in-Command getting into a fight Levi, she can handle herself fine” she said, giving Bon a knowing pat on her shoulder before taking a breath to continue.

“What I do have a problem with however, is her disturbing the peace of my city. If you need to fight someone Bon, at least have the sense to take it outside” she finished with a pointed look in her direction.

“Yes, August”

A steady silence filled the room, the only sounds being the fire crackling heartily in its hearth and the soft tinkle of wind chimes hanging from outside the bay window.

“Will that be all, Milady?” inquired the suddenly very fatigued healer. Gusty stood, with a slight shake of her head and turned to face her properly.

“Yes. Thank you for coming at this hour Levi, go get some rest. I'll have Alexa bring up your breakfast to your room before you go”

“Um, go where exactly? - Milady” said an already confused and slightly drowsy Levi.

“Home” Gusty replied, leading her back towards the door “You've been working very long shifts. Milly will get a few days off as well”

Her tone left no room for the argument that was trying to slip through Levi’s lips. If she and Milly weren't around, who would act as healers in their stead? The High Lady, seeming to know her concerns, spoke before she could.

“I will be temporarily suspending any weapon training in the castle and in case of any other injuries, a friend of mine from the Dawn court will be visiting us and living in the castle. He can act as healer while you and Milly are away”

August looked at Levi as she opened her door for her, the sky now filled with both sunlight and dark clouds bunched together like clumps of grey wool.

“Go get some sleep, you look like you're about to pass out” She said with a small and slightly concerned smile.

“Of course, goodnig- Err.. good morning?” Levi quickly bowed and opened her wings once more. Slinging her satchel over her head, she leapt from the balcony.

With the healer safely out of sight and headed to bed, August returned to her mate and First-in-Command-the latter sound asleep and mumbling quietly to herself, the color already returning to her skin. The day was new and the aroma of fried eggs and spices was already making its way up from the kitchens. Rubbing her heavy eyes, El slipped her hand into Gusty’s and dragged her down onto the velvety black couch next to where Bon slept.

“She'll be fine, it's only a few cuts and a hangover. Nothing she hasn't dealt with before” El whispered, her eyes already fluttering close and a sleepy grin pulling up her lips. Pressing a loving kiss to the side of her mate’s head, August leaned back into a throw pillow. Closing her eyes as well and pulling her arms around El’s small frame, she let herself be thankful for the fact that she had her mate in her arms. Her friends were alive and well, and all the lands had found peace for the first time in centuries. Her court was not perfect but neither was she. Yes, she was extremely grateful and she would continue to be as long as there were things to be grateful for.

High Ladies: @mayhemories and @aelin-and-feyre First: @runesandfaes Second: @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie Third: @fiery-feyre and her wonderful wife @darlingfireheart Spymaster: @foxboy-lucien Spies: @havilliardandgalathynius @cynical-minds-for-cynical-times @shinywhiteshoe @tarafitz124 @wingsofanillyrian @zacc-efronn Executive Assistant: @queenoffantasy Light Wielder: @destiny1444 Thunder Enforcer: @poisonbooknerd Storm Whisperer: @kazgavejasonthecrowbar Dragon Keeper: @bbyshadowbat Emissary: @cassiancalore Emissary of Mortal Lands: @dreams-of-feysand Ambassador: @thebookishshadowhunter Healers: @rowanismybae and @lifelillysandmagicwands General: @therealmofgoals Chief Strategist: @acomafxtog24-7 Commandress of Bloodshed: @rhysand-and-rowan Cryptographer: @deathbytitanium Captain of the Guard: @highqueenofmagic Assassin: @acourtoffuckmylifeup Lightning Thief: @sugarcoated44 Seer: @aelinxfeyre Priestess: @rowaelinandfeysandfeels Hitwoman: @seldomsmurf Cartographer: @she-was-brave-and-she-was-strong Librarian/Informant: @deezrmuhsheeple Researcher: @starzablaze Historian: @rhysand-vs-rowan Lady in Waiting: @magic-madness-heavensin Weapons Designer: @inejcalmarekaz Painter: @thexscarletxwitchx The Sassy friend who Wanders in when needed: @tntwme Random Anonymous Cat: @insert-username-here712 Court Falconer: @m0ther0fdrag0ns Court Musician: @veinssaxonio Designer: @tog-trash Cat Lady: @smokeydiamondstorm Court Entertainer: @acourtofredqueens Court Witch: @azuremirwae Random Dragon: @searching-the-stars Crazy Old Sage: @justanotherpaperheart Counselor: @whyyoumakemesadstahp Cook: @alexiea1 Gardener: @otaku-trash-sendhelp1000-7 Architect: @couldilienexttoyou Shapeshifter: @highladyofluna Treasurer: @iris-cygnets Story Keeper: @my-ships-will-never-be-sank Art Shop Keeper: @skyl0rd5177 Teacher: @amberissues Mixologist: @ponyjockey Photographer: @autumn03 Astronomer: @court-of-shadows-and-fury Soldiers: @aelin-rattlesthestars @the-girl-of-ticking-clocks  (We are open for potential soldiers) Record Keeper: @feyre-herondale03 Black Sheep Of The Family: @aroyalbluedragon​

[lightning-court]

Tattered Nerves and A Dance (Part 1)

Part 1 Of a fic about the Tempest Ball, of course written by our wonderful Healer @lifelillysandmagicwands yet again! Part 2

Olivia was frantic. There was too much to do, she was a bundle of stress and nerves. The Tempest Ball was like her child, one that only showed up once a year and gave her headaches and insomnia. Everything had to be perfect, the food, the music, the decorations. It was all important and honestly, it was all a pain in the ass. This was her job as the (entertainment manager) but this was the largest party of the year, with the highest number of attending guests from other courts. Her High Ladies never made her feel like she had to outdo herself every year, but for the sake of pleasing them and impressing those almost unimpressible High Lords from the other courts - she would.

Sitting slumped in the grand hall of the palace and completely alone, she took a deep breath, her eyes stinging with the threat of tears. She had never been this stressed in her 3 years of planning court happenings, but this year was different. Everything was. Pulling out a small tin from her skirt pocket she pulled out a piece of the blended herbs Levi had given her for her headaches. After chewing on it for a moment, she stood and picked up her event book, she flipped to the decoration section. As she was busy visualising and writing down where everything would be, far on the other side of the castle, was someone who was also more than a little nervous about the upcoming Ball.

~

Brie clenched the smooth silk of her sparkling gown in her fist. She had been with the court tailor for hours, trying on far too many dresses and getting nowhere. It wasn’t the tailor’s fault, the dresses were all lovely - they just didn’t feel right to her. She was standing in her chambers with the afternoon air tickling her exposed skin-in this dress, she felt too exposed. She needed to be confident and elegant and this mess of seafoam tulle and white lace didn’t help in the slightest. Noticing her fumbling with the laces in the bodice, the tailor quickly dashed to her side, a second away from an apology.

“The dress is beautiful, Markila, but I don’t feel like myself wearing it, if that makes sense” she quickly spouted out another apology after she finished. Nodding with her hand on her chin Markila - the finest tailor in the Court-  waved a hand and the strings holding up the back of the dress began to unwind. Brie sucked in a deep breath, that corset was far too tight. Twisting her hair over her shoulder she let the heavy gown drop to the marble floor.

“If that wasn’t to your liking Milady, perhaps this will do instead?”

Brie turned with a sigh, this was the twelfth dress today, she might just give in and wear whatever Markila had chosen, but her eyes widened as she saw what the tailor held in her small hands.

A long dress that came to the floor, its color of the deepest sapphire and obsidian; it sparkled as the lamp light hit it. The dress had a high neck and no back, with twin slits down the thighs giving room to walk, and kick if needed. The bodice was embroidered with delicate silver roses and leaves, a black ribbon winding loosely around the waist.

Slowly taking the fabric in her hands, she let herself marvel at how light and soft the fabric was. This was it, her dress for the Tempest ball. Her mothers would love it, she was sure. She could practically see herself gliding across the floor of the grand hall, the technicolor lights hitting the dress as she danced. Scooping the dress into her arms fully, she gave Markila the biggest smile she could muster.

“It’s perfect Markila. I can’t even express how much I love it! Thank you.”

“I had a feeling you would like that one over the hot pink one I had left” she replied with a wink.

Brie turned around, clutching the dress to her chest, she spun around the room, practically singing. The door closed quietly; Markila had taken her leave after collecting her things. And after admiring the dress again, Brie hung it in her closet and set out in search of dinner. The ball was in two days, and all the High Lords had written her mother to say they would come. She was ecstatic, after all, all the high lords included Tarquin!

Brie punched the air in victory, this year she would tell him how she felt. This year for sure.

~

In her quiet home in the woods, Erlanya the court witch was working away on yet another spell for the upcoming Ball. So many people - too many she thought. Protection spells for each High Lord and Lady. Anti-enchantments (they couldn’t have another replay of the Spring Court’s masquerade ball, now could they?) and plenty of other spells for various reasons. Wardruna watched her from the corner as she moved back and forth between her books and her many tables. She scanned her ‘Hexes and Such’ journal, one of the many she had written over the centuries.

The ball was fast approaching and the High Ladies had requested her presence as a special guest, since she didn’t usually come to such events. But this year was different and she’d be damned if she missed it. She would just have to stick to the shadows and enjoy the party as a whisp-on-the-wall.

The barely visible sun was setting and giving way to the waning moon that Erlanya knew would illuminate the sky that night. Dipping a hand into a potion she had made a year before, she wiped the dark liquid onto eight objects. A rose, a sea shell, an already melting icicle, a red leaf, a very old scroll, a sliver of sun wood, and finally; a white dragon scale. Each object began to float a few inches off the surface of the table, shaking with a barely audible hum of magic. One by one they began to send out waves of energy - purple, blue, red, green, etc. After all the objects had settled once more, she placed them all into a large Rowan wood trunk. She would bury it the night of the ball.

Exhaustion hit her the way it did after every major spell. Putting a hand on her temple, she blindly found her way to Wardruna and settled down between her large arms. The dragon purred and laid it’s head down with a soft snort.

She waved a hand as the warmth of her dragon settled over her and all the lightning lanterns but one went out, casting her home into the comfort of darkness. She would begin the ceremony for the all the castle staff the next day but for now she had no other obligation then to sleep away the growing pull of exhaustion.

~

Arriving home late in the night, feet sore and stomach growling for a hot meal, Saers pulled open the door to the small apartment that he shared with his mate. The entry way was dark and silent, the air smelled of lemon verbena and burning wood- he took a minute to appreciate the lovely scent. The few weeks on the mission had left him smelling a little worse than he’d like so he’d shower quickly before bed. Letting his heavy bag drop to the floor with a quiet thud and slipping off his walking boots that were caked in mud from the last storm, he slipped into the main room. It was a large rectangle, the farthest wall made entirely of windows, their sills lined with herbs and medicinal plants that Levi tended to. Saers also had a plant, a small winter cactus that was impossible to kill and didn’t need to be looked after, a cold ice blue and spotted with pin sharp spines. He had affectionately named his plant Prick. Besides the piles of flora they had laying about the apartment, the main room was filled with bookshelves and large mountains of books strewn about as well as a large cushiony couch covered in plush pillows and fluffy blankets; it wasn’t uncommon for him to find his mate asleep in a tangle of the latter after not being able to find her for hours. Quickly checking the couch to make sure that this wasn’t the case, he proceeded to tip-toe into the kitchen. The tiny kitchen was on the darker side of the color spectrum, with inky marble counters and dark wooden cabinets. Snatching an apple off the counter and two cherry tarts, he turned to head back to the main room with the intention of eating on the couch and possibly sleeping there.

But within the blink of an eye his snacks had disappeared and he was blinded by the lamp switching on right next to his face. When he regained his ability to see, before him stood his very angry mate. Levi opened her mouth, undoubtedly to chastise him for sneaking tarts before bed but before she could Saers scooped her into his arms, an adoring smile lighting up his face. She was close to his height and by picking her up so fast, Saers ended up knocking heads rather strongly with her. Releasing her with a yelp, he stumbled back, rubbing his forehead.

“Sorry love, just got a tad excited. Missed you so much ‘is all” he said, glancing up at her with a rueful smile. In the light, he got a better look at her. Her long hair was loose and tangled, most likely from sleep. Her dark eyes were alight with with both annoyance and fondness. She wore her rumpled sleep cloths and had only one sock on, per usual.

“I should have guessed the first thing you’d go for was the tarts” she retorted with an exasperated sigh. Saers grinned. “You really should know me by now, love”

Instead of replying with words she gently pulled him down for a chaste kiss. As she pulled away Saers pouted, tucking his nose into the crook of her neck and mumbling “I’ve been gone for weeks woman, a little more affection please!”

Levi laughed softly and kissed his cheek before replying. “Gone for weeks without a word and coming home at three in the morning, you’ll get affection after I get sleep” dragging him by the hand and closing off the lamp, she pulled him down onto the cushiony couch and settled down next to him with her head on his chest. They were both quiet for a heartbeat of peace.

Saers broke the silence. “Ya know I’m kinda hungry, would’ve been nice to eat somethin’ before bed.”

“How ‘bout eat your words and sleep. I’ll make you waffles in the morning” she said, her voice slurred. Saers knew she’d be asleep in seconds and then she’d be out cold. Before he thought it over for the millionth time he blurted, “Go with me to the Tempest ball” loud enough to make her jolt with fright at the sheer volume. Levi groaned and pulled a blanket over her face “If I say yes will you let me sleep, Saers?”

“So is that a yes?” she didn’t respond but he knew she was still awake. “Well I’m not hearing a no.”

She let out a muffled scream into the blanket before roughly yanking it off her face and meeting his eyes and saying sweetly.

“I love you with all my heart darling, but right now the last thing you need is another part. The last one you were at, you broke two windows and managed to piss off half the locals”

“Okay first of all-” she put a finger to his lips before he could continue, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“We’ll look for cloths for the Ball tomorrow, but cauldron help you if you don’t shut up right now, there will be no way for you to stand let alone dance at the Ball”

He hastily closed his mouth and blinked. He’d forgotten how scary she was when she was tired. Even though he was trained for battle and she was trained for healing, he always thought she had the eyes of someone deadly, not his gentle flower loving bookworm - a soldier in a previous life perhaps. He nodded once and it seemed to be enough for her as she rested her head against his chest again. It took another ten minutes before his eyes grew leaden and as he was beginning to slip into unconsciousness when he heard Levi faintly whisper “Goodnight…love you”

With the last of his energy he uttered “I love you too, Flower” before his head lolled back and he fell into darkness.

~

“Bon hurry up! You have to be there to welcome the High Lords with me!” El yelled from Bon’s living room. The person in question was buzzing around her room in a panic, her voluminous gown a weight she would gladly carry because she knew how good she looked in it. It was a black tulle gown that reached the floor in a puff of dark black skirt that became a gorgeous purple at the bottom, the top was a simple black but was cut in such a way that left two long pieces of fabric to cover her breasts and came together to form a choker, accenting her long slender neck. She’d picked it out weeks ago in preparation and pure excitement. Marci had come in earlier to do her makeup, a simple black smokey eye and pink lips in the light of day, but at the ball, her face would be transformed by glow-in-the-dark speckles of various colors. The bottom of her dress would also glow a bright purple in the black lights of the ball. Marci had insisted she looked spectacular and tried her best to calm the nerves that were so close to fraying before she had to leave and get ready herself. The ball didn’t officially begin till nine but the High Lords were all set to arrive half an hour earlier and boy was she terrified. Bon had met all the High Lords before on trips with El and Gusty and liked them all well enough- well most of them at least. She was mainly looking forward to seeing her friends from other courts who were also coming as part of their High Lords’ circle. Her friend Mor was coming and she was surely going to bring along the Shadowsinger. Bon felt her heart stutter. Azriel of the Night Court. He was devastatingly handsome and horribly and completely undeniably in love with another woman. Standing in front of her mirror she patted down her dress and checked her hair - it was loosely curled and half up, parts hanging around her face to accent it.

She took a deep breath and smacked herself. Before spinning on her heel and walking out of her room, determined to enjoy the Ball and avoid the gorgeous spy at all costs. Tonight was a party, a few drinks wouldn’t be a bad idea-just to keep her mood up. she reassured herself.

El stood in the living room, her storm grey dress had a sheer top made of grey lace with long sleeves and high neck. On most, it would have looked ridiculous. But there was something about El. The way she held herself or maybe it was the way she radiated warmth that made even the cold grey of the dress something to marvel at. Bon let out a low whistle, admiring El’s intricately braided updo, beautiful silver and gold crown of Lynsten and thorns. Her beautiful makeup that made her cheekbones sharper and her eyes more ethereal had also made her skin a shimmering pale white and grey like stone.

“Gusty is going to drop to her knees when she sees you El” Bon commented with a smirk. El’s pale cheeks bloomed with red and her wings fluttered. “Let’s hope not” she said, ducking her head down to hide her blush

“Rhys would never let her live it down.”

Bon froze, her eyes going wide. “They’re already here?” she whispered in disbelief. She thought she’d have enough time to get hammered before she had to deal with their arrival. El snorted in a very unladylike fashion before shaking her head.

“No they’re not here yet. Calm down Bon, you’re too young to stress so much.”

“I’m not stressed El,”

“You’ve been pacing in circles for a hour and jumping off chairs like a toddler.”

She paused “I have?”

El sighed and yanked the door open before replying “Yes you have. Now hurry up or we’ll be late. you know how August likes punctuality.”

They walked down the corridors side by side and besides the sound of their footfalls the faint sound of music could be heard echoing through the stone halls. El didnt say anything, presumably because she knew just how panicked Bon really was and knew she needed to be left with her thoughts. So she let her think in the five minutes it took to find their way to the castle’s entry way. The large enchanted stained glass doors depicted the city’s protector Keranos in a fierce battle with an army drenched in blood wearing crowns of sand. The door was more than three metres high and illuminated with a halo of lanterns. The hall wasn’t as full as she thought it would be. The only people present were her, El, Gusty, Brie, and Veanna. As they approached, the small group turned to them, all of them equally as dressed up and as beautiful in their attire. Brie looked stunning in a sapphire and obsidian floor length gown that hugged her hips, her canines out and wings shining with luster paints that made her look like storm flower, her hair twisted and full of midnight blue flowers and vines. Veanna stood proud in a soft blue dress that reached her knees and long flowing sleeves. It was decorated in small birds and leaves, her chestnut brown hair straight and glittering with a small diamond circlet that hung between her brows delicately. She had painted detailed feathers onto her cheekbones and down her arms to resemble bluebirds.

Turning her attention to the last in the group, Bon took a breathe when she saw Gusty in the centre of the three, her expression shifting to one of awe and love as she beheld her mate. Gusty had perhaps the most detailed gown Bon had ever seen. The bodice was a deep scarlet, embroidered with silver clouds and lightning bolts intertwined with tiny silver raindrops leading down the the long skirt. The skirt was a similar color but it was layered with a glittering silver tulle covered in hundreds of small diamonds. The front stopped at her knees but it pulled back and had a long train. Gusty’s hair was curled softly and half braided into her crown of silver thorns and sparkling Lynsten. El released a small breath of air, her expression full of wonder and in a split second she sprinted for Gusty and encircled her in her arms. The two locked lips for a brief moment before Brie spoke up. “Save it for when you don’t have an audience, you two” she said with a grimace.

El blushed deeply, Gusty laughed lightly as she slipped an arm around El’s waist and pulled her closer to her side.

“The High Lords should be arriving any minute. I want all of you on your best behavior, please”

El shot her a curious look. “Where are the rest of the kids? We have more than one.”

“I could only find Brie. The others are running about the castle getting ready I presume.”

El nodded and Veanna began to say something when the tower bell rang four times, signaling the first arrival. All five of them stood straighter and Brie took an audible breath. Two castle staff ran over to open the doors for the guests. Bon thought that this was all taking too long-maybe she could sneak off while they were distracted by the High Lords and their inner circles, she could find somewhere to calm down. Her nerves had returned tenfold, but before she could make her escape Brie grabbed hold of her wrist and held it in a vice-like grip. Turning to give her an alarmed look, Bon was greeted with a murderous glare as Brie leaned in to whisper.

“If you abandon me in a time of romantic crisis, I swear to the mother I will lock you in the kitchen when they make the onion soup on Tuesday and I will watch you suffer”

“Let go of my wrist or I’ll shove you into Tarquin when he goes past” she whispered back, equally as murderous. Judging by the look of mortification on Brie’s face Bon had pushed the right button, her wrist was released. But despite being free to sprint away, she stayed in her spot at Brie and Gusty’s side as the first person came through the entryway.

The Tempest Ball had begun.

High Ladies: @mayhemories and @aelin-and-feyre First: @runesandfaes Second: @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie Third: @fiery-feyre and her wonderful wife @darlingfireheart Spymaster: @foxboy-lucien Spies: @havilliardandgalathynius @cynical-minds-for-cynical-times @shinywhiteshoe @tarafitz124 @wingsofanillyrian @zacc-efronn Executive Assistant: @queenoffantasy Light Wielder: @destiny14444 Thunder Enforcer: @poisonbooknerd Storm Whisperer: @kazgavejasonthecrowbar Dragon Keeper: @bbyshadowbat Emissary: @cassiancalore Emissary of Mortal Lands: @dreams-of-feysand Ambassador: @thebookishshadowhunter Healers: @rowanismybae and @lifelillysandmagicwands General: @therealmofgoals Chief Strategist: @acomafxtog24-7 Commandress of Bloodshed: @rhysand-and-rowan Cryptographer: @deathbytitanium Captain of the Guard: @highqueenofmagic Assassin: @acourtoffuckmylifeup Lightning Thief: @sugarcoated44 Seer: @aelinxfeyre Priestess: @rowaelinandfeysandfeels Hitwoman: @seldomsmurf Cartographer: @she-was-brave-and-she-was-strong Librarian/Informant: @deezrmuhsheeple Researcher: @starzablaze Historian: @rhysand-vs-rowan Lady in Waiting: @magic-madness-heavensin Weapons Designer: @inejcalmarekaz Painter: @thexscarletxwitchx The Sassy friend who Wanders in when needed: @tntwme Random Anonymous Cat: @insert-username-here712 Court Falconer: @m0ther0fdragons Court Musician: @veinssaxonio Designer: @tog-trash Cat Lady: @smokeydiamondstorm Court Entertainer: @acourtofredqueens Court Witch: @azuremirwae Random Dragon: @searching-the-stars Crazy Old Sage: @justanotherpaperheart Counselor: @whyyoumakemesadstahp Cook: @alexiea1 Gardener: @otaku-trash-sendhelp1000-7 Architect: @couldilienexttoyou Shapeshifter: @highladyofluna Treasurer: @iris-cygnets Story Keeper: @my-ships-will-never-be-sank Art Shop Keeper: @skyl0rd5117 Teacher: @amberissues Mixologist: @ponyjockey Photographer: @autumn03 Astronomer: @court-of-shadows-and-fury Soldiers: @aelin-rattlesthestars @the-girl-of-ticking-clocks  (We are open for potential soldiers) Record Keeper: @feyre-herondale03 Black Sheep Of The Family: @aroyalbluedragon

[lightning-court]

A Visitor and A Spy(ies)

Here you go guys, another beautifully written fic by our darling healer, @lifelillysandmagicwands. It shows more glimpses into our world and it’s members. Enjoy!

Dragons. They weren't kidding when they said the Lightning Court had a lot of them. Kesden had never set foot in this territory before and before he knew it; he was in love. The sweeping valleys, sparkling rivers and pools, the mountains that provided shelter and scenery. They were sights out of fairytales and myths. And the people, cauldron the people were unlike anything he'd ever encountered. Their beauty was vicious and raw, underlined with the power that flowed through their veins. But despite the rumors that told of their cruel and ruthless nature, he had yet to meet one Kimære who was anything like their fearsome tales. The only thing Kesdon found unnerving about them, was their wings. Sure he'd seen plenty of wings in the Night Court, but those in the Lightning Court had the wings of a dragon, magnificent and illustrious. Each person with their own unique coloring, unlike the solid black bat-like wings of the Illyrians. He hated to admit it but he was slightly jealous. Having no wings himself and being someone who very much enjoyed flying, it was a dream of his to fly, even if it was on the back of a dragon. Which was a far easier dream to attain in the Lightning Court then any other. He'd heard whispers of a illegal dragon racing circle in the capital city and decided on a whim to travel there. He planned on returning home in time for Starfall, so he'd only be staying for a month or so.

Currently taking the main trade road to the city of Arach, his journey included hitching rides on the back of dragon pulled carts, staring at the odd plants that grew in the forests, and sleeping in some very pretty trees. But as the days dragged by, Kesdon found the main trail becoming more populated and easier to travel on. Taking this as a sign he was nearing the Capital he eagerly increased his pace. Perhaps after he reached the city he'd find somewhere to have a good meal and a hot bath. Bathing in the streams was lovely, just too cold, and he was beginning to run out of food. What was left would probably last another two days if he was careful.

Lifting his arm to block a branch from hitting his face, Kesdon contemplated removing some of his cloths. The Lightning Court wasn't known to be exceptionally hot, but because they were in the aftermath of a particularly grueling storm, the humidity was getting to him. Deciding to go with his instinct, he quickly pulled his loose yet somehow still too hot shirt over his head, roughly stuffing it back into his pack. Sighing to himself he pulled his hair back into a bun to keep it off his neck as he walked. The road was empty, only Kesdon’s feet making imprints in the soft brown dirt that now coated both his hands and some of his face. The forest however, was anything but quiet. Birds sang, twittering back and forth as small creatures with brightly colored bodies and wings buzzed around, knocking into each other and occasionally, Kesdon.

“They’re fairy dragons, dear” said a passing woman he'd met a day before, cradling a small bundle in her arms and carrying a large bag on her side. Her burgundy and violet wings fluttering slightly as she walked. Kesdon had met dozens of Kimære during his days traveling, all of which had been very kind and welcoming. Reassuring him that he was indeed on the right road and telling him all the best places to visit in the city once he arrived. One man in particular, named Dellphi, who had the most interesting scar on his forearm that resembled an odd flower, told him where to go if he wanted to find out the locations of the dragon racing that month; also encouraging him to be discreet when mentioning dragon racing in the capital, as it was looked down upon by most and after walking a few miles with Kesdon, took a smaller road to his village.

It felt odd being in such a mysterious place so far away from his home and simultaneously feeling like he could stay forever.

Lost in his thoughts, it took Kesdon little over a minute to realize he was no longer alone on the road. Behind him was a group of Kimære, that had suddenly appeared as if they had fallen from the sky. Kesdon mentally smacked himself for being an idiot. Wings- they very well could have fallen from the sky if they could fly.

The group looked no older than him, who was at the ripe age of 22, but then again, knowing the wonkey aging of fae in general, it was likely he was wrong. Wanting to look back again without coming off as creepy, Kesdon turned to pretend to grab something from his bag and snagged a glance at the group. They all wore the same skin tight black body suits, showing off their toned bodies and obvious strength. Two of them were walking, the other three were flying back and forth above them playing some sort of game with a spiky looking rock. Narrowing his eyes and returning them to the road in front of him, he picked up his pace. The last thing he needed was to be hit by whatever that was.

And for a little while he carried on without incident.

Until one of them came sailing over his head with the rock, the other two in hot pursuit. Cheers and yelling erupted from both his front and back. It was safe to say he was more than a little nervous. Sending a quick prayer to the Cauldron, he attempted to shuffle unnoticed into the trees.

“Guys ease up, you're scaring that guy over there!” called out a deep male voice from the group that was walking. Freezing in his tracks and wondering if he should just bolt, Kesdon glanced over to see if he could spot the owner of the voice. To his surprise, one of them was already making his way over to him. He was an average height with a lanky but muscular frame and a confident ease to his walk. He had Grey-Lavender wings, visible and accenting his pale colored skin with stormy grey hair that was long enough to be kept in a bun. But as he approached, Kesdon found himself staring in awe at his eyes, the color of rain and shot through with silver. His heart began to beat quickly. Averting his gaze he tried to figure out another way out of this situation and away from the handsome Kimære.

“Sorry about my friends, they get a little rowdy when they’re off duty” He said with a charming smile “Just be sure to duck if they get too close - SOMEONE doesn't have a good sense of personal space” laughter quickly rose after he spoke.

“Blame Alex, she threw the egg!” yelled a flying female, a wicked grin on her lips. Her midnight black hair swaying around her as she hovered, a long sword strapped to her waist.

“As if, Cahira! Try being a bit more believable next time you lie” quipped who Kesdon assumed was Alex. She was the second person flying, her soft purple wings covered in lines of gold and silver that gave off an otherworldly glow. Her curly hair in a high ponytail that accented her uptilted green eyes. Lowering herself down carefully, she jogged over to where Kesdon and the other male stood.

“I'm Alex and this pale guy is Saers. Sorry about our friends” she said with an apologetic smile. Nodding stiffly Kesdon met her intense gaze.

“So” she continued, her stare unwavering “who are you?”

After hesitating for a moment too long, Saers stepped in, his expression still calm but his jaw clenched.

“Alex, give him a second, would you? He's not from around here”

With a start Kesdon shot an alarmed look at Saers, who grinned in response before speaking.  

“You don't have wings and you look like you've never seen a Kepler egg before. It's not difficult to tell you're from a different court, most likely Night, based on your coloring” he finished, the rest of his friend group coming up around them. There were five in total, not too many but enough to make Kesdon wish he too had wings so he could fly in the opposite direction.

Taking a deep breath and standing a bit straighter he opened his mouth. “I'm Kesdon Lyal, pleasure to meet you all” he tried to give them a smile, it looked more like a grimace. Cahira make a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a cough. Kesdon noticed small clouds floating around her, some darker than others but most of them were a soft white as they wound around her fingers and limbs.

“Kesdon...interesting name. I'm Marci, this is Saers” said a short female, her long blonde hair in a braid that hung from her shoulder. She wasn't someone you'd think to fear, but standing so close to her, Kesdon had the strangest urge to back up a little. Strength and control filled the space around her, her grey-blue eyes glinting as they took in his image. There was more to her than what lay in plain sight. “And you've already met Alex and Cahira. The last of our little group is my mate, Caspian” she gestured to the man standing protectively behind her. She hadn't turned to sen him come up but somehow knew he was going to be there. Caspian gave him a curt nod.

“I'm guessing you're heading to Arach?” Alex spoke up “Are you visiting a friend?”

Shaking his head he stuttered out a reply. “I don't have friends- I mean, not here, I do have friends- I - dragons, I came to see the dragon racing” he let out with a flustered sigh.

Saers eyebrows shot up and he had a bemused tilt to his lips. “Dragon racing, you say?”

Caspian and Cahira groaned in exasperation. Marci shook her head with a knowing smile. “Don't get him started, Kesdon. You'll never hear the end of it”

“No no, let the man speak Marci, finally someone I can relate to!” he practically shouted. Caspian let out a growl of warning. Saers turned to him and winked before returning his attention to Kesdon’s still lost expression. Marci started walking again, this time with one more person in her group.

“I take it this will be your first time in the city?” Saers asked eagerly, walking on Kesdon’s right, Alex on his left.

“Yes, I've never actually been in this court before now”

“Well then I think we ought to give you the full Lightning Court experience, Kesdon” he said, leaving the statement open to the others.

“I can show you all the best stores” Alex added, her smile infectious. Kesdon couldn't help but return it.

“And there is the matter of introducing you to everyone” said Cahira, walking a couple metres in front of them. Her sunset ombre wings a splash of color against her black suit.

“If they’re all around that is.” interjected Caspian with a lazy smile “Last time I heard, Riley was in Day and the High Ladies went for the week to visit the High Lord and Lady of Night”

Alex mumbled something to herself that Kesdon didn't catch before she sprinted down the road and took off into the sky. Wanting to ask what that was about, he opened his mouth but Saers beat him to it.

“Ya know Kes, I'm a pretty big deal in the Dragon racing rings. I could take you to the next race if you're up for it”

“That would be great, thank you!”

“What do you want in return, Saers?” Marci inquired with narrowed eyes and a lifted brow. Saers scoffed and swung an arm around Kesdon’s bare shoulders.

“Just one little favor. You don't mind, do you Kes?” Saers looked right into his eyes and suddenly Kesdon forgot how to speak. His heart was thundering so violently he was sure everyone in the group could hear it's stuttering rhythm. Gently pushing Saers’ warm arm off his shoulders he released a breath, knowing his face was bright pink.

“Yea that's fine, I don't mind. I didn't have much of a plan once I got to the city anyway”

Marci stopped on the top of the hill they were climbing and glanced back, flashing a smile and waving them over. “Speaking of the city, welcome to Arach, Kesdon”

Saers shoved him into the front so he could see past all the wings.

“Get a good look Kes, this is our home” but his voice faded as Kesdon’s eyes took in the sights before him.

The city itself was built on an array of buildings, interconnected by bridges and rising on different levels on cliffs surrounded by waters of the most stunning shade of aqua. The city and the palace at its center seemed to float above the rest of the lands and rivers, with some of its architecture lining the river banks. The palace in the center of Arach, built on the tallest cliff of the entire court, was mirrored on all sides, reflecting the sky that loomed above it. Tall, twisting towers scraped the clouds and some completely disappeared into the rolling gray expanse. A soft azure glow illuminated the city in its dusk state and dragons of all sizes could be seen flying over the buildings with riders on their backs.

Taking in a shuddering breath, Kesdon felt an almost forgotten part of himself awaken to the hum of the Lightning. This city, these people, had roused something in him. Something he wanted to know better. And as he walked side by side with Saers and Cahira, Marci, Alex, and Caspian a few feet ahead, their smiles and laughter lifted him into the most content state he'd been in for a long while.

It was obvious to him that he wasn't going to make it back home in time for Starfall.

High Ladies: @mayhemories and @aelin-and-feyre First: @runesandfaes Second: @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie Third: @fiery-feyre and her wonderful wife @darlingfireheart Spymaster: @foxboy-lucien Spies: @havilliardandgalathynius @cynical-minds-for-cynical-times @shinywhiteshoe @tarafitz124 @wingsofanillyrian @zacc-efronn Executive Assistant: @queenoffantasy Light Wielder: @destiny14444 Thunder Enforcer: @poisonbooknerd Storm Whisperer: @kazgavejasonthecrowbar Dragon Keeper: @bbyshadowbat Emissary: @cassiancalore Emissary of Mortal Lands: @dreams-of-feysand Ambassador: @thebookishshadowhunter Healers: @rowanismybae and @lifelillysandmagicwands General: @therealmofgoals Chief Strategist: @acomafxtog24-7 Commandress of Bloodshed: @rhysand-and-rowan Cryptographer: @deathbytitanium Captain of the Guard: @highqueenofmagic Assassin: @acourtoffuckmylifeup Lightning Thief: @sugarcoated44 Seer: @aelinxfeyre Priestess: @rowaelinandfeysandfeels Hitwoman: @seldomsmurf Cartographer: @she-was-brave-and-she-was-strong Librarian/Informant: @deezrmuhsheeple Researcher: @starzablaze Historian: @rhysand-vs-rowan Lady in Waiting: @magic-madness-heavensin Weapons Designer: @inejcalmarekaz Painter: @thexscarletxwitchx The Sassy friend who Wanders in when needed: @tntwme Random Anonymous Cat: @insert-username-here712 Court Falconer: @m0ther0fdragons Court Musician: @veinssaxonio Designer: @tog-trash Cat Lady: @smokeydiamondstorm Court Entertainer: @acourtofredqueens Court Witch: @azuremirwae Random Dragon: @searching-the-stars Crazy Old Sage: @justanotherpaperheart Counselor: @whyyoumakemesadstahp Cook: @alexiea1 Gardener: @otaku-trash-sendhelp1000-7 Architect: @couldilienexttoyou Shapeshifter: @highladyofluna Treasurer: @iris-cygnets Story Keeper: @my-ships-will-never-be-sank Art Shop Keeper:  @skyl0rd5117 Teacher: @amberissues Mixologist: @ponyjockey Photographer: @autumn03 Astronomer: @court-of-shadows-and-fury Soldiers: @aelin-rattlesthestars @the-girl-of-ticking-clocks  (We are open for potential soldiers) Record Keeper: @feyre-herondale03 Black Sheep Of The Family: @aroyalbluedragon​

[apuckishsprite]

so uh

i posted a thing on ao3

it’s a stucky fic, or it will be, and it’s really weird and AU but hey i wrote it so you can read it here if you want!

i don’t think i’m going to post it on tumblr unless i’m asked to just bc it’s going to have like chapters and notes and summaries and stuff

[apuckishsprite]

What If | Fenris x Hawke

[ Since once again I’ve been playing DA2 and been inspired, here’s a wee thing. Slightly AU, since, you know, they’re together and happy and the world’s not ending. Haha. Ouch.

A considerably better version of this fic is now on AO3 here. 

Summary: (Fem)Hawke and Fenris have a discussion about what would happen if they had children. Also, Fenris learns how to play dictionary tag.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Language. That’s about it. ]

It came up rather innocently over breakfast one morning. Grey Hawke strolled into the kitchen at the usual time, stretched into the air like a satisfied cat, and draped herself over the shoulders of her husband, who was reading a book at the breakfast table.

“Good morning,” she trilled, pecking the elf on the cheek. His warmth had become familiar, the exact jut of his shoulders, his jaw with its barely-there scratch of stubble. Fenris had become home more than the Hawke Estate had, but having the two of them in one place wasn’t a bad deal.

Fenris sighed, a sound of amused exasperation. “It’s nearly noon.”

“It’s Saturday, who cares,” Grey replied, and dropped into the chair next to him. “What are you reading?”

“The dictionary, actually,” Fenris replied dryly, holding it up for her to see. Grey snorted.

“You’re reading the dictionary?”

“How am I going to improve my reading abilities if I don’t invest time in learning new words? It’s practical. I skip the ones I know, anyway,” he shot back, tone defensive. 

His wife chuckled, holding up her hands. “I won’t argue with that,” she replied, scooting her chair a  bit closer, “but I can show you a way to make your dictionary devouring a little less tedious.”

Fenris looked up, lips pulling into a half-smirk. Grey’s ideas were usually ridiculous, even in serious situations. He figured this would be no exception. “Oh?”

“It’s called dictionary tag,” Grey said. “Let me see that.” She plucked the dictionary from his hands with one smooth movement. 

“Hey--” Fenris protested.

“Just a second. Alright, let’s see... Maker, you’re already into the D’s, how long have you been reading this? Right, to start dictionary tag, you open the dictionary to any page.” She shut the book and reopened it, earning a halfhearted grumble from Fenris about losing his place. “The first word you see, you read the definition.” Her dark eyes scanned the page. She was in the M section. “Ah, here we are. Misdirection, noun. A wrong or incorrect direction, guidance, or instruction. In law, an erroneous charge to the jury by the judge.”

“What does erroneous mean?” Fenris asked, a bit gingerly. It had taken time for him to adjust to asking questions without damaging his pride. That Grey always took him seriously when he needed her to was an enormous help.

“That’s the point of the game!” Grey grinned at him. “You find a word in the definition that you don’t know, or else the most interesting one. And then you look up that word and do the same.” She flipped back to the E section, searched for a second, and then announced, “Erroneous, adjective. Containing error, mistaken, incorrect, or wrong. Straying from what is moral, decent, or proper. Say you pick proper--”

“I know what proper means.” 

“I know you do. But maybe there’s a word in the definition of ‘proper’ that you don’t know. It’s a game my father taught me when I was learning to read.” She smiled thoughtfully. “It’s a good method.” She paused, then said - with a degree of caution - “Maybe one day you can teach a child of your own to play.”

Fenris froze for a moment, looking over at her slowly. She bit her lip, raising her eyes to his.

“You know.” Her voice was quiet now. “If we... have a child.”

The elf was speechless for a moment, studying her face as she studied his. He read the tentative hope and the fear in the widening of her eyes. She read his apprehension in the set of his jaw.

“You have... been considering this?” Fenris asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Grey swallowed, pulled one of her awkward half-smiles. It was telling that she wasn’t cracking a joke. It meant she was serious, and Fenris wasn’t sure if he found that worrying or not. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the subject at all.

“Only a little.”

“A little?”

“I...”

“Mister Fenris, I’ve finished making the tea-- oh, Mistress, you’re awake.” Orana had entered the room from the kitchen holding a tea tray, her tone about as cheerful as she managed to get. She stopped when the two seemed to startle and looked up at her at the same time, cheeks going pink.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I didn’t mean to intrude...” 

“No, no.” Grey was quick to reassure her, offering a pleasant smile. “No, Orana, it’s no trouble. Thank you for the tea.”

“Should I wait to make breakfast...?” asked the servant, looking between the two of them, seeming distinctly out of her element.

“I’ll take care of it,” Fenris cut in.

“Mister Fenris...?” Orana responded tentatively. ‘Mister Fenris’ had been the best the two had managed to settle on. Fenris had felt uncomfortable being called ‘sir,’ and the first time she slipped up and called him ‘Master’ out of habit, it did not go over well. Orana was well-paid, well-fed, and well-housed, but never for a moment did he forget that she was once a slave, as he had been, and now she was serving him. It was six degrees of separation from having a slave of his own, at least in his mind, and it made him uncomfortable to begin with.

“Rest,” he told her. “I will make the meal. Within the hour.”

Orana blinked a few times, confused. Grey was an absolute disaster in the kitchen, but she rarely saw Fenris venture there for any reason. After a moment, she decided just to nod, set the tray down, bow, and leave the room, feeling very awkward and shaken up and deciding maybe she would take a nap.

Grey waited until Orana was out of earshot, and then some, before she spoke again. “You’re going to make breakfast?”

“Don’t change the subject,” he said softly, not looking at her. Grey stopped, feeling her heart jump in her chest.

“Okay... I won’t.”

“You wanted to know my opinion, then? On... us, having a family?”

“I... suppose so, yes. I was curious, but I thought...”

He raised his eyes to meet hers. “What?”

Grey swallowed, twisting her hands under the table. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to.”

“I’ve never given an opinion either way,” he noted.

“No, you haven’t, but...”

“But...?” he prompted.

She looked up at him seriously now, her dark eyes worried and a bit sad. “You know... that magic runs strongly in my family, Fenris.”

Oh. The pieces clicked together in his mind, and his expression shifted from confused to thoughtful, or maybe concerned, or both. Grey felt her stomach pit. It had taken Fenris long enough to accept her magic, to look past her abilities and see her as a person. not just another mage. Even around her mage friends, he remained distrustful and prickly, and she had only just begun to work on opening his mind, to make him see the world in something other than black and white. Perhaps this was too much.

“What are you saying?” he asked flatly, in a tone that indicated he already knew, but wanted a direct answer.

“I’m saying,” Grey continued, fighting to keep her voice and expression steady, “that if we were to have children... or a child, they would probably... have magic. Like me. Like my father, and my sister.”

“Your brother was no mage.”

The statement, and his unreadable tone, was almost enough to make her cry. But she was stronger than that. Probably. She hoped.

“No, he wasn’t,” she agreed. “Neither was my mother, nor were her parents... as far as I know. But the Amell line... there has always been magic in it, and from the little I know about my father’s family, the same was true of his.” In her head, she was doing her best just to keep speaking. Breathe. Breathe. Fenris loves you. You know Fenris loves you. He won’t leave you over this. Probably.

“And... your sister had magic.”

Fenris went quiet. “You mean Varania?” He had never managed to find a way to say that name without a note of bitterness.

“Yes. I know you don’t know much about your own family, but...” She trailed off, shook her head. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like to talk about it, but if your sister was a mage, then you carry that potential as well. In your bloodline.” Hawke squeezed her eyes shut. She could envision the look on his face as she said that, as he realized that his own genetics were tainted irreparably with magic as the rest of his life had been. The disgust. The fear. The resentment, though, would be the worst. And she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

There was a long and pregnant silence before she heard her husband speak. “Grey. Look at me.” 

She opened her eyes slowly, her short black hair falling into her line of vision, brushing her coppery cheeks. The man next to her reached out, pushing a dark lock behind her ear with a gentleness he reserved only for her, as if he were touching something priceless and fragile.

“Look at me,” he said again. His hand was on her cheek, rough and warm and familiar. She leaned into it and did as he asked, meeting his gaze.

There was no disgust there. There was no resentment. Perhaps a slight apprehension, but not the bitterness or the hatred she had been so afraid to see. 

“Family is a precious thing,” he said, his tone cautious, like he was picking his way down a trapped corridor. “Something I’ve yet to truly experience. But its value does not escape me. If you’re asking me whether or not I would hate my own offspring for having magic, I can tell you. I wouldn’t. I could never hate you. And I could never hate any child of ours. Of mine. Magic or no.”

For a second time, Grey thought that she could cry, right now. All over him. All over everything, for sheer fucking joy that those words had just come out of her husband’s mouth. Without another word, she flung her arms around his neck, practically clambering into his lap in her elation. Fenris choked a bit at the sudden pressure of her arms, shifted in his chair, and embranced her in turn, tilting his face into her hair. 

Grey pulled back after a moment, pressing a kiss to his lips before settling back into her seat, sniffling a bit but smiling.

“Well, ah,” she said. “If that’s really how you feel...”

“It is,” Fenris responded, voice as firm as he could make it.

“Then you should know,” Grey said.

“Know what?”

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye.

“Fenris. I’m pregnant.”

[apuckishsprite]

Speechless

[ A quick thing I felt the need to write up concerning my Hawke, post-Leandra. I had feels last time, but I’ve gotten particularly attached to this Hawke and I don’t really feel the game does justice to what it feels like to lose someone so close to you.

So, here’s a quick thing. More for me than anything. 

Spoiler alert for those who haven’t played the game, and to be cautious, trigger warning for murder and depression.

This isn’t very good but my writing is rusty and it’s 3am and I don’t feel like hardcore editing so don’t take this as a shining example of my writing ability, it’s just something I need to get out there. ]

Varric had never seen Grey speechless.

She always had something to say. It was what he liked about her. There was always some snappy comeback to be had, some underhanded joke to be made. The number of inside laughs they’d had together were beyond count, even for him. Grey Hawke, Kirkwall’s designated silvertongue, who could smooth-talk her way off Death’s doorstep and steal its coinpurse on the way out.

And she hadn’t said a word in days.

She apparently hadn’t even left her room for the first twenty-four hours. Bodahn had turned him away, reporting that “Mistress Hawke doesn’t wish to be disturbed” before giving him all-too-full a description of the events of the last half a day, including the silently rejected meals and the doleful-looking mabari curled outside his master’s locked door.

Varric hadn’t been there for the thing, hadn’t seen Leandra, and he had been cursing himself every second for the last three days that he hadn’t insisted he’d come along. Some friend he was. He had to get the details from Anders, who was a real joy to talk to in the first place, and even more so when discussing the intricacies of necromancy and blood magic as conducted on Hawke’s hapless mother. It was obvious that Anders blamed himself for not being able to do more. They all loved Hawke, in their own ways. She’d stopped flirting about once they came back from the Deep Roads, started to keep to herself more once she lost Carver to the Grey Wardens, but she was always there when you needed her. Always. 

“Don’t blame yourself, Blondie,” he’d said. “Nobody’s chewing themselves up any worse than Hawke is right now.” He didn’t call her Silver, her designated alias a la Varric, a play on her sharp wit and the color associated with her name. It didn’t seem appropriate.

“That’s the problem.” Anders had sat down and run his hands down his face. Varric was pretty sure Anders was gone for her, but Grey had made it clear enough that she couldn’t follow him where he was going. Wherever that was. The dwarf was fairly sure he didn’t want to know. “If I knew more, maybe I could have saved her. I could have spared Hawke this pain. She doesn’t deserve it. She doesn’t deserve this.”

And she didn’t. Varric couldn’t think of anyone who deserved this less than Hawke.

But if he knew one thing, it was that life didn’t play fair. It was like playing a hand of Wicked Grace against an opponent who cheated every time and never got caught. Because how could you hold an abstract concept responsible for its injustices?

He’d seen Fenris outside of the estate at least three different times, lingering there for a few minutes before leaving again. Varric had seen a lot of dark looks on the elf’s permanently dour face, but confusion was a new one. He knew Grey was sweet on Fenris, and that Fenris at least tolerated her affection, but it was the first time he’d seen any demonstration that there was something in that elf’s shriveled up little heart besides resentment. Either way, as far as Varric knew, Fenris didn’t go inside. The only one who actually came up to speak to Hawke was Aveline, who probably forced her way in (typical fashion for her) to offer a shoulder if Hawke needed one. According to Aveline, Grey hadn’t said anything. She’d smiled sadly, offered a nod of thanks, and gone back into her room.

Now it had been three days. And not a word. Not a quip, not a quote, not a single syllable.

It was hard sometimes to remember that Grey was a human being, what with all she accomplished, everything she just got done. The way people gravitated to her, the magnetism and charm that came off her in waves, she really did seem like the kind of hero he had made up for a story sometimes. But this showed she was fallible. She was just one woman in the end, and in the span of three years, she’d lost her father, both her siblings, and now, above all else, her mother. No child he’d ever met had such a selfless sense of duty to their parents as Grey had for Leandra, and now that was over. In her eyes, Grey had failed at the only job that had ever really mattered.

In the end, when he managed to see her, he almost wished he hadn’t gone.

Grey looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Her normally rich dark skin looked ashen, her cheeks sunken, her gleaming black eyes dulled and lifeless. Her normally glossy dark hair was unkempt, sticking out in several directions and covering half her face. Who knew short hair could put on such a show.

She’d regarded him wordlessly through the crack in her door like she was asking him a question, and Varric suddenly felt like he shouldn’t have come, like he was intruding. It wasn’t his place to be here. He shouldn’t be the one doing this. If Fenris had any balls (or sense of empathy), he’d come up and comfort the woman himself. It was the least he could do for her. But no, here he was, Varric Tethras, face to face with his grieving best friend. Two wordsmiths, looking blankly at each other in silence. If there was a more ironic situation in the world, he couldn’t think of it right now.

After a moment, he mustered the courage to say something.

“Hey, Silver. It’s a nice day outside. You could use some sun.”

Andraste’s sacred tits, that sounded stupid.

Grey almost smiled, one of those awkward twitches at the corner of the mouth that suggested a failed attempt to look amused. 

“Not today,” she said. Her voice was raspy. “Sorry, Varric. Maybe tomorrow.”

“How about drinks tonight?” Varric cut in, not about to let the conversation fall flat now that it had started. As far as he knew, those were the first words anyone had gotten out of her since she shut herself up in her room. “You, me, the Hanged Man? Maybe we can even get your sulky elf to come along. And I’m sure Isabela wouldn’t turn down a good time.”

And... shit, he’d said something wrong. Hawke’s eyes had dropped as soon as he’d mentioned Fenris. It was right then that it clicked in his head: she’d been expecting him. She’d been waiting for him to come check on her, and he hadn’t. For a moment, Varric felt incredibly ready to introduce that sullen bastard to Bianca’s business end. Then he remembered crossing that particular Tevinter fugitive was probably suicide, and as pissed as he was, he liked being alive, with his heart securely inside his chest. Preferably even inside his ribcage.

“Hey, look,” he backtracked, trying to wedge himself between the door and its frame so Hawke couldn’t shut it in his face. “You’ve been in here for days now. We’re all worried about you, Hawke. And you know how Daisy gets when she’s worried. Stay in here much longer and she’ll start losing her hair or something.”

Grey frowned. He’d gotten her there, he knew. Grey fretted particularly over Merrill, in a very distinctively big-sister kind of way.

“All I’m saying,” he continued, “is that maybe some fresh air would be good for you. A walk around town, you know? Maybe we can even find some trouble to get into.”

“I’m not really feeling like trouble today. Maybe tomorrow.” Maybe tomorrow. That phrase again.

“You gonna say that tomorrow, too?” he countered.

Grey said nothing. And just like before, it made Varric unspeakably uncomfortable to be looking at her face with her mouth so unmoving.

“I just,” she started, then stopped, ran a hand over her face. “I just need some time. I’ll-- I’ll be fine. I just need... some time.”

Varric was a realist. He could tell when he was fighting a losing battle, and this was one of those times. Hawke was tragically stubborn, and he could barely keep his foot in the door right now. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said. Grey didn’t reply. 

“You’ve gotta come out eventually,” he said again. This time to a shut door.

The next day, Hawke left her room. She put on her traveling clothes and grabbed her staff. She gathered a group and went traipsing around Kirkwall like she always did, and she smiled and laughed and made witty comments like she always did. She brushed off every inquiry after her own personal feelings, responding with a dismissive, “I’m fine, really,” the kind that was final, the kind that said, “Don’t ask me again.” And they didn’t. None of them did.

They left it alone. They didn’t push. Varric didn’t push.

And maybe, he thought, looking back, maybe he should have.