#warm4iden

[spiderwarden]

and it’s up over the shoulder minthara goes. (don’t pay much mind to the blood splattered, post-battle armor.)

Between Eithne and Karlach and their forever knack for picking up those with a shorter stature than them, Minthara had surprisingly become accustomed to being hoists over their shoulders. Most often times she does not like to be thrown without prior agreement during battle, but otherwise she was surprisingly content with the choice of action. So when Eithne suddenly snatched her up it was all the Drow could do to balance herself on her so she could at least perch comfortably upon the plate covered shoulder.

There's a huff, and then twists shortly after with the wiggle of her hips. Using her own momentum and the press of her hands on the other woman's shoulders to push herself further up. Turning so she can properly sit up here. Then once settled - she hums, "Yes." Her eyes dart around as her arm rests atop the other Paladin's head. "What a lovely view."

@warm4iden / don't forget who the funniest person you know is.

[valdorin-a]

she stretches legs in the easy morning light, airy fabric of nightgown pooling around thighs momentarily before she rolls over. head tucks briefly into the crook of his neck, hands moving to rest on his chest before traveling up. they settle on the side of his face as head rises, nose nuzzling into stubble-clad jaw, breath warm. " i'm growing quite fond of this. " (the beard, she's talking about the beard.)

﹙ elle's beard fanbase. @warm4iden ﹚. morning dusted their lashes with a clear sign; it'll be a warm day and, judging by the wind howling outside their balcony doors somewhere on the edge of their room, a windy day. cold. eithne's gentle movements rouse him from sleep. lashes flutter but do not open. his arm tightens around her frame and he murmurs something of a good morning.

the elf feels her hand trailing up from chest to beard and instantly smiles, first relishing her fleeting touches whenever she saw fit to give them, and second, her voice silks like the warmth between. half body turns, lazily throwing her leg over his waist. her head raised, he sneaks nose to the junction of neck and shoulder, making sure to tickle the skin with said-beard, voice husked with sleep, ❛ ─then start getting used to it, love. i'm never going to stop bothering you with it. ❜

[valdorin-a]

imagine my surprise when i found out you were still alive.

emptying the inbox. ﹙ @warm4iden ﹚. bloodied weapon and armour still adjourned. sheen of sweat and grime decorate the exhausted, near-hunched frame. his king's calling to the far north has made him absent for several months. a host has gone with him, but he alone returns. he's deciding if she jests or is genuinely concerned; his queen, his love, and wife, though elle is probably correct to assume some level of disdain for the lengthy absence. no letter. no raven. nothing to affirm his surviving existence. or maybe he's just too exhausted to deal with this. ﹙ 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑. ﹚

❛ 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬. ❜ the elf is the first to relent, not wishing to darken his mood. it's a strange feeling altogether. to finally have a duty and desire to return to her. despite impolite visage, leathered hands squeeze eithne's arms, and a kiss pressed, lingers on her crown, ❛ 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬? 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲. ❜

[valdorin-a]

deny it if you will, but there is a connection between us.

the news brought to him months before could never prepared ellarian the first time upon hearing it, then reading the letter of the proclamation of his hand in marriage to another kingdom. months spent preparing rules and appearances, straightening out the details of what this union would bring. he accounted the strangeness and natural distance he held against eithne; up until their first meeting, that is.

by the gods, all apprehension founded on anxiety melted away. the way her head was turned toward the window, how the black cloth and armour radiated confidence. 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎. stoic visage cracks at the seams. sharp hues warm and smile graces as hand cups her neck. he loved the way she smelled, how her form curve against his as is standing so close. elle rests lips against her brow; with his other hand, he takes hers to place against his chest. ❛ 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭. ❜ thumb and finger tilt her just so, ❛ 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞. 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. ❜ the truth from the very beginning.

[valdorin-a]

insert eithne, wine still caught in the corners of her mouth, tucking the airy fabric of her dress so she can sit comfortably across his lap - its a languid motion, arms moving to wrap around his neck. she says absolutely nothing, but she does give him a rather warm kiss on the mouth.

the book is all but forgotten when she strides in the room at her leisure. what shared rooms they have, ellarian takes to the books in the library. ( what a grand library it is. ). but it never amounts to the strength and beauty of his wife. wife. it still tastes strange yet exhilarating on his tongue.

even stranger still when @warm4iden slips easily onto his lap, and her arms wrap around his neck and the kiss, oh, the kiss he tastes firstly, and the warmth of her mouth. elle slips his tongue to chase the fruit at the corner of her lips, the tips of her teeth. hands soft, practically clawing from her side to settle on her strong thigh and hip. lewd thoughts kept at bay to savour this moment. alas, he pulls just to breathe, sharp hues studying features. " do i even want to ask? "

[valdorin-a]

“#im sorry to the other writers but this is elles wife#im kiddin” eithne, standing in the doorway like a mfing benadryl fever dream like, kidding????

elle: 🧍🏻‍♂️ why am I scared all of a sudden......