starweavingwritings

[starweavingwritings]

Quick doodle of Sae and her late husband again. Been feeling some past cute stuff! 💗

[starweavingwritings]

An Exchange Among Friends

“I’d like to formally accept your offer to purchase the estate,” Saedre said, her hands neatly clasped on her knee as she spoke to the human woman seated across the table. Though Neile kept her hair short, she and the late Koira Winthrope were nearly the spitting image of each other, and the resemblance brought a small smile to the highborne’s lips; a quiet echo of her friend’s memory. “I’ve considered it thoroughly, and I believe it would serve me well as a private residence despite the memories.”

Tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear, Neile grinned as she slid the necessary documents across the table. Already prepared and hopeful. “Fantastic! Well, you’re already familiar with the paperwork. After all, you were entrusted with the estate once before when it was the headquarters of the Violet Bastion, even if you returned it to me. This time, I’d prefer it not come back. It will be yours, and yours alone. I think my sister would be happy with that. She always trusted you just as I do.”

Observing the paperwork already prepped and ready to be given to her, Saedre couldn’t help but chuckle, a silvery gaze falling back upon Neile momentarily as Aveem began to rifle through the paperwork like a good little helper, “It seems like you already knew my answer or you were just that eager to wash your hands of these grounds.”

Settling back against her chair, Neile’s bright blue eyes shifted upward towards the ceiling with a sigh. “I suppose I am a little too eager to see it off in all honesty,” she gestured vaguely. “It is not that I do not have good memories here as well, but it really doesn’t serve me in a functional way. It’s too big and costly to maintain. Too drafty in the winter on one wing. Too hot in the summers on the other. And to be quite frank, I’ve been needing to downsize for years and well… not here.”

“So, where will you call home then, Lady Winthrope?” Saedre tilted her head to the side curiously as Aveem began to hand off each page that needed to be signed off on. Her eyes shifted downward, reviewing but not doing too much as her familiar could certainly be trusted to have done it diligently for her. Taking the pen offered to her by Aveem, she looked to Neile briefly ever so often in wait for her answer to that question. 

“Boralus,” Neile grinned, her eyes alit with an adventure yet to be played out with full on zest for what awaited her. Her mind was made up. The tone she gave was firm. Quick. And just right to it. “I’m getting married actually.”

Saedre blinked. Once. Twice. The surprise wasn’t even half of it. Her mind scrambled to catch up with the words she’d just heard, but they echoed like static. Of all people, Neile was the last person she thought might actually settle down one day as wild as the oats that she was still sowing. 

For a moment, the sorceress sat there in stunned silence. Then came the laughter. Bright and unapologetic. Neile’s grin spread across her sunkissed face, carefree and defiant. “Look,” she said, leaning in like she was confessing a crime, “Don’t tell anyone. It’s not going to be this grand spectacle. I wasn’t even going to say anything until after we tied the knot.”

“Well, congratulations are in order nonetheless,” Saedre finally responded, her head dipped respectfully towards her. She couldn’t help but ask, a little confused, “So you are settling down finally and you are selling off your estate? You do not wish to start your family here on the grounds you grew up on?”

Shaking her head firmly, Neile wagged a finger at the elven woman, “Believe me. I am firm on this offer, Saedre. These grounds are far too large as it is and Lily nor I are looking to adopt children any time soon or ever. In fact, she and I are far more suited for her homeland where we can escape to the seas whenever we wish. It is settled already, so please do not back out of this offer out of fear I might regret this because I won’t.”

Saedre studied Neile for a long moment. That gaze, sharp and dissecting; the kind that made people squirm under its weight. The sorceress had a way of looking at someone like she was rifling through their memories, flipping through the messy bits and secrets one hadn’t even admitted to themself.

Neile squinted back at her, expression guarded. She only seemed to relax once Saedre returned her attention to the paperwork, pen scratching across the final signature line.

“Very well,” Saedre said, voice clipped but calm. “I will honor my end of this.” But then she paused, allowing herself a small sigh, almost amused, “A large home for Aveem and myself seems quite much as it is, too, you know?”

Neile gestured around them with a soft laugh, “You and Aveem could do far better things here than I could. Think of all the libraries you could have all to yourself. House your relics you like to study. The spells you enjoy cataloguing and expanding on and…”

The human woman fell silent a moment, a shit-eating grin cresting her lips as she leaned forward again and rested her chin on the palm of her hand and said, “Besides, you may wish to settle down some day. You’ve always been a bit of a romantic ever since I’ve known you. Hide it outwardly all you like, but I’ve seen your secret collection of books.”

Neile let the words hang for a second before she continued on, “And the way you and Mason carried on around here those years ago. Even when you thought no one was looking, the way you looked at each other. A shame you two couldn’t figure it out in the end.”

The pen slipped from Saedre’s fingers and clattered to the floor, but Aveem was quick to pick it up. Her cheeks flushed. She was used to bluntness, used to honesty that never ducked or danced where Neile was concerned. If nothing else, she was direct. She never sugar-coated anything and it was something Saedre actually liked about her.

Clearing her throat, the sorceress glanced up, startled by the truth laid bare between them. “He’ll figure it out someday with someone, Neile. And when he does, I’ll be nothing but happy for him.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t let you off the hook entirely.” Neile smiled, gently this time, her tone softer, less jarringly blunt than before as she rapped her fingernails against the desk. “You’ll want that for yourself someday, surely. And this place…” She looked around. “It wouldn’t be the worst spot for something like that.”

Her gaze met Saedre’s. “You deserve to be happy too, you know?

Saedre couldn’t agree to that. Not yet. Not when the idea of settling down truly finally meant letting go of the family she once had. The ones who were gone. To move forward would be to admit they were never coming back. And she knew that. She’d always known. Death was final. There was no returning from it. How she knew she grasped onto the ghosts of their memory in vain. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep going on like that,” Neile breathed out, a little annoyed at herself for how bold she had been with her words. She meant well but she knew no matter how well she meant it, it didn’t hide the fact that that was such a painful subject to bring up to Saedre and so she did her best to change the direction of the conversation quickly. 

“So, when I get all settled in, I’d love for you to come visit. You should meet Lily too. I’ve told her a lot about you and I know she’s eager to pick the brain of one such as yourself. Honestly, she’s a bit of a bookworm too.”

It was a welcome change of topic. One where Saedre sighed softly under her breath in relief. Finishing up the paperwork, she handed it to Aveem who triple checked everything before he’d slide it back onto the desk for Neile to stamp off on it. As the conversation flowed less awkwardly between the two old friends, Aveem peered about the room already wondering what great plans awaited. He loved the grounds of the Raven’s Nest in Duskwood, but this… this was more familiar to him. The first real home he and Saedre shared since joining the rest of the world. Darnassus never felt comfortable and Dalaran was a bit too cramped. And to speak of Feralas was to speak of a past that was better off buried where it was. 

Soon, new fun could begin. He wondered how Saedre might junction it between the Raven’s Nest and the estate grounds out here. They were not terribly far from one another as it was. So many possibilities awaited!

---

@masonkohler for mentions.

[starweavingwritings]

Either I will color this properly or just say "Hey, cool seeing a statue version of Saedre." 💀

[starweavingwritings]

Saedre and her late husband, Drath'darin during a moment of joy long long ago.

[starweavingwritings]

Chen Kehua , from a poem titled "Why Are There Still Love Poems?," featured in Modern Chinese Poetry: An Anthology

[starweavingwritings]

A Bald Move

Saedre wasn’t ready to forgive nor forget. Under her father’s thumb, she had endured too much for millennia after millennia, and the wounds were still raw despite his version of help he provided to her. Yet as she listened to him speak of his desire to see their bloodline continue as pure as possible, she now couldn’t deny that there was some logic in his words. Logic, of all things, from a man whose world was usually muddled, blurred, and chaotic. She had no interest in settling down. Not yet, maybe not ever. How could she forget the family she had before that she couldn’t even protect? How could he forget them? Her part of continuing their bloodline would have been all well and good now had things been different. 

Unfortunately, the sorceress could at least see the reasoning behind her father’s words; despite her refusal to accept them for a time. What baffled her, though, was why he wasn’t more focused on continuing the bloodline himself. Why place that burden on her? Perhaps there was something more going on with him than what he was letting on? He was rather up there in years as it was. Far greater than her own number. No. It couldn’t be that. She’d place her finger on it eventually perhaps, but for now she might as well indulge the simple request that was presented to her.

Show up to an arranged blind date with someone of his choosing every now and then.

It wasn’t like she had to commit to anyone on the spot. And besides, she had it all worked out. There would always be a reason - some fault, some incompatibility, that would make it clear things couldn’t evolve into anything serious. A quiet sabotage, just enough to keep her freedom intact. No one could force her into anything she didn’t want. Still, maybe she was bored enough to see what could happen. 

--------------

Saedre arrived at a small, intimate restaurant nestled in the heart of Suramar City by a watchful guide of a city guard. The moment she stepped inside, the sorceress  was ushered into a stunning room where light danced from glimmering crystals hanging delicately from chandeliers. The table settings sparkled with silver finery that glistened as vividly as the arcwine the city was known for. 

She had dressed to match the setting: one of her finest gowns, form-fitting and elegant, the fabric hugging her curves, a high slit up the side offered a tasteful glimpse of her long legs as she moved, her heels clacking gently against the marble flooring, composed and confident.But as she approached the table, her poise faltered for a split second. Her eyes widened ever so slightly.

He was bald.

Her stomach turned. Not violently, just enough to note the disappointment. Out of all possible candidates, her father had chosen one without even a strand of hair to admire. No tousled waves to lose time in, no thick locks to serve as distraction when conversation dulled. She sighed inwardly. At the very least, she’d hoped for something pleasant to look at.

The Shal’dorei man was dressed in his own elegant finery, showcasing his impeccable taste; something she knew her father would likely find irresistible. There was no doubt in her mind that this man came from wealth. Given his build, he was toned enough to give the impression he could have served as a member of the Duskguard with respectable ranking. The arcane sigil etched along the side of his face shimmered gently as he rose to his feet to properly greet Saedre.

“Lady Starweaver?” His breath caught as he spoke her name, his gaze sweeping over her with open appreciation. For a moment, just a flicker, Saedre was almost certain she saw him lick his lips. Subtle, but unmistakable. He was already thinking too far ahead and far too boldly. “I heard you were beautiful, but… my stars. Pardon, please have a seat.”

She let a slow, amused smile curl at the corners of her lips, offering him the kind of grin that walked the edge of polite and mocking. Allowing him to pull the chair out for her, she seated herself. It was hard to tear her eyes away from the smooth, gleaming crown of his bald head. It caught the light in such a way that she could almost see her own reflection. This was going to be a long dinner or quick if she decided on the help she arranged from one mischief-loving familiar. 

“And you must be Miste…Lord Castaignède? She was unsure of titles in this circumstance, lofting a gentle white brow. Not knowing much about him other than his surname and his Shal’dorei lineage. Given the color of the man’s eyebrows, black, she could at least get an idea of what his hair color could have been - how her mind drifted again. 

“Please, call me Serolec,” he said, flashing a grin that revealed just a bit too much fang for a first meeting. His eyes notably never quite made it to hers. Instead, they lingered lower -far lower - with no shame or subtlety. Right there, on full display, was his priority.

Saedre’s smile didn’t falter, though it took on a more sardonic edge. He was certainly getting ahead of himself. Under different circumstances, she might have indulged a little flirtation. Boredom had made her tolerant in the past. But this? No. He was definitely not her type and not just because of the lack of hair at this point; not that that helped his case any. It was the hunger he openly displayed. The assumption. The way he looked at her like she was a prize already halfway claimed. That never sat well with her. 

Swirling a finger at her side that hung alongside her chair momentarily, she traced a runic calling pattern that brought forth her familiar, Aveem. Saedre shifted slightly in her seat, tilting her chin just enough to reclaim control of the gaze, “Ah, Serolec. Charmed. Now, please tell me if we can get a glass of arcwine quickly? I am parched.”

With a tiny pop that echoed faintly under the cloth of the table next to them, Aveem appeared as stealthy as possible just as he and Saedre had planned if things went south. It was far quicker than he imagined! Saedre cleared her throat loudly to mask the magical pop caused by her familiar as she picked up the menu and looked it over, even shifting a foot that made it appear accidental when she kicked Serolec in the leg gently, “Oh my stars, please pardon me.”

Serolec had started to turn his head toward the sharp pop of a magic nearby but the quick, deliberate kick to his shin snapped his attention right back to her.

Good.

He hesitated, then smiled again. “Oh, we can get arcwine. That’s an absolute must.” 

Then came the prod of his foot beneath the table, brushing her own in a manner that was anything but accidental. His eyes latched onto hers again, no longer simply appreciative, but possessive. Hungry. How sure of a deal had her father made this man? What promises had he offered? Her compliance? Her hand? Her body?

Saedre’s fingers twitched slightly, itching for the feeling of the silver knife within her grasp that sat neatly arranged next to her plate alongside other cutlery. Aveem peeped out from the table cloth, tiny glowing eyes noting his mistress’s clear discomfort already and feeling her desire to just end this now. As he peered to his left and upward, his eyes grew large at the man very quickly. Seeing his lack of hair made the little familiar clasp a hand over his mouth that was not there; his shoulders bounced up and down in a way that indicated he was probably laughing in his own manner. He already knew this was not Saedre’s type.

Waiting under the darkness the tablecloth presented under the table he hid, he began to ponder plans to burst out and pull Saedre away and ensure another date would never be asked by this man again. Finally, Aveem resolved the plan and in a grand sweeping gesture, he pushed himself out under the safety of the silken cloth and table and shimmered magically. In the blink of an eye, he was now on top of the pair’s table, seating himself right on Serolec’s empty plate very boldly and rudely. 

“Aveem!” Saedre mock gasped to put on the pretense of her surprise. She did not plan for it to go this way if things went south, but she trusted her familiar’s creative liberties here. He had never steered her wrong before! The familiar did not turn at his name, instead he just stared at Serolec whose eyes went large in surprise at the sudden intruder. Ahem!

“Is this defiant creature yours?!” He asked, horrified by the undignified manner of this magical servant. Aveem eyed the man’s glistening bald head and took it upon himself to conjure a cloth. Then without any invitation, one he never asked for to begin with, the familiar started to rub the man’s head with it as if he were polishing silver. 

“Oh, yes he is… I am so sorry,” Saedre tried her hardest not to laugh, clasping her hand over her mouth for a moment and proceeded to attempt to dissuade her familiar, “Aveem, leave him alone. I do not believe you were called for. Get down this instant!”

“Well, I never!” he growled, recoiling as he shoved the familiar away with a sharp flick of his wrist. Aveem, small and smug, zipped back beneath the table with an undignified shake of his rear before he finally disappeared, unbothered.

Serolec sprang to his feet, nearly upsetting his chair in the process, and yanked the silken napkin from his lap like it had personally offended him. “My lady,” he snapped, his voice low and bristling with wounded pride, “If you cannot control a simple familiar, then I’m afraid there is nothing more for us here.”

He threw the napkin onto the table with theatrical finality. “Good day!”

“Oh, do forgive my incapability, Serolec,” she called after him, voice rich with mock apology. She even reached a hand out dramatically, fingers stretching into the empty air as if trying to stop him, though the gleam in her eyes suggested otherwise.

He didn’t look back. Of course he didn’t. The doors swung shut behind him with a finality that bordered on comedy. For a moment, silence reigned. Staff peeked from behind corners and kitchen doors, wide-eyed and motionless, clearly unsure whether to intervene or applaud.

Saedre clutched her chest with both hands and let out a theatrical sigh loud enough to echo against the crystal-studded walls. “Not again. Oh, Aveem,” she lamented, her tone drenched in mock despair. “Why must you keep chasing them off?”

A soft clatter came from under the table as Aveem, likely laughing in his silent manner, rattled the dinnerware atop the table. He peeped out of the cloth again with a satisfied wink at Saedre.

 Mission completed and a success!

[starweavingwritings]

Saw a funny quote on FB and had to make it into a shit post for Saedre as a t-shirt. ♥

[starweavingwritings]

makmur - what role does forgiveness play?

In the romantic aspect, forgiveness plays an important role for Saedre. It's dependent on the instance that the forgiveness is being considered, however. Couples squabble from time to time. Not everything is sunshine on that side of the fence. She can recall a fair share of times she and her late-husband disagreed on things but they rarely stayed upset with each other for long. She is generally pretty open minded and can be forgiving in the aspect of a relationship as long as no infidelity has occurred. I think given how she likes to keep her options open at this time, having fun, and not looking to settle down with anyone right now, this isn't something she thinks about much. She's happy to do her own thing while any other party involved understands that pursuing her for anything more than skin to skin contact is going to take time if that is their intent. She's still healing from her heartbreaking past and from her last attempt to try again.

Now for Aelsar? Oh, he's petty. He wasn't always this way but given how his now ex-wife is the reason he is now so intimately connected with the Void. He sought forgiveness one more time from her when he kind of freaked out when he found out she was studying the Void when he was still a proud Farstrider Lieutenant in Quel'Thalas and thus she divorced him for it. He still sought her out after, hoping to pull her to her senses that the Void was not to be trifled with and it would come to dire consequences. He cared. But alas, she was over it. She did not. He was pulled into it all and found himself where he is now, another voice within his head, exiled from his homeland, unsightly tentacles - he goes to great lengths to avoid his ex-wife now and likely wouldn't forgive her if she ever begged for it. Would forgiveness play a helpful role in a new relationship one day? Who knows? He's still plenty mad and needs time to heal.

Ty for the ask @kharrisdawndancer!

[starweavingwritings]

'fantasia' in erté at ninety-five: the complete new graphics (the extended edition) - marshall lee + erté (1988)

[starweavingwritings]

dont tell any of my friends or mutuals but....their ocs are really cool.................

[starweavingwritings]

pan dulce - do they have an "i can fix them" complex? or are they one that needs to be fixed? if neither, how do they feel about the idea? (for all)

Saedre does not have an "I can fix them" complex at all. She's one to accept one as they are. Lately she's been quite drawn to the dark and mysterious in men. The potentially dangerous. There's a new adrenaline rush she's discovering and enjoying a lot. I am sure something within her needs to be fixed as she is quite broken beneath it all given her past, but she'd rather someone accept her flaws and all. The idea of fixing someone to her is like trying to shape them into something more ideal or suited for you. She's not one to be molded and does not seek to do the same for others. If someone does not fit her long-term needs (and she really isn't thinking long-term with anyone right now) she's quick to go about her own way.

Aelsar probably needs to be fixed in all honesty. The Void has done a number on his mind. His ex-wife being the reasoning he had encountered it in the manner he had and been exiled has done him no favors. His sanity hangs loosely. Would he allow someone to try to fix these broken pieces? He's unsure. Maybe?

Novalein doesn't think of any of these things really. She doesn't think of relationships or attraction to others. She's far too busy in her shop, gathering ingredients, making connections for her business, and well.... to be quite honest, any flirting towards her usually drifts right over her head or she comes up with an excuse to avoid toying with the idea of anything. So she doesn't think of fixing, being fixed, etc

Ty for the ask!

[starweavingwritings]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ love headcanons !

--

apple strudel - who was your muse's first crush? do they still have feelings for that person?

baklava - does your muse believe in true love? soulmates?

cannoli - how does your muse express love? how do they act when in love that differs from how they act around others normally?

chouquette - does your muse believe they deserve to be loved? why or why not?

croissant - what is your muse's ideal date?

eclair - do they want to one day be married?

inipit - what qualities do they seek in a partner? describe physical qualities and personality traits?

lattice pie - what kinds of gifts do they like to give to/receive from their partner?

macaron - what do they do after having a fight with their partner?

makmur - what role does forgiveness play?

mille-feuille - do they believe friends can become lovers? if so, when does love transcend from platonic to romantic? if not, why?

pan dulce - do they have an "i can fix them" complex? or are they one that needs to be fixed? if neither, how do they feel about the idea?

[starweavingwritings]

2012

© PhotoCosma

http://photocosma.net/

[starweavingwritings]

[starweavingwritings]

Colored my babe, Saedre. ♥

[starweavingwritings]

Latest WIP of mine of my OC, Saedre Starweaver. And yes, I am terrified to color this. ^_^;

[starweavingwritings]

An Invitation of Dialogue - Part II

A continuance from part 1.

A Shal’dorei maid emerged quietly from the kitchen, a crystal decanter of moonberry juice cradled carefully in her hands. Her footsteps slowed as her gaze settled on the woman seated at the table. For a brief moment, she hesitated, her expression flickering with something unreadable, then composed herself and approached. The maid poured the juice into the two empty glasses with steady hands, although her eyes occasionally flicked toward Iaerian seated across from his daughter she was surprised to see. He looked at the maid without speaking, yet something in the golden stillness of his gaze passed between them like a whisper - unspoken, but understood. The maid bowed her head, offered a small, polite smile to Saedre, and disappeared once more through the kitchen door.

Saedre watched the maid disappear into the kitchen, her head tilted in slight curiosity and then she looked to her father, a long-brow arched, “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that my presence is a surprise.” Touching the rim of her glass, her fingers traced along it wondering why it felt as though she had intruded upon something almost intimate. 

“You cannot fault my staff for feeling unsure that you would arrive, given my open concerns,” Iaerian said with a smirk, lifting his glass with deliberate ease. The mauve liquid caught the light as he took a slow, measured sip, never breaking eye contact. His gaze was steady, almost lazy in its confidence, but there was a sharpness beneath it. A challenge perhaps, or a subtle goading. The cockiness in his voice didn’t surprise her; it was a familiar note, one she had expected the moment she agreed to come.

Following suit, Saedre brought the glass to her lips, taking a controlled sip. She wouldn’t allow herself to be thrown off track, not now, not by him. Her guard was intact, as it had been the moment she stepped through the threshold. She hadn't come unprepared. The man seated across from her had a history steeped in shadows, known for his dealings with madmen and monsters warped by the shadows and worse. He simply wore his madness like a tailored suit; unsettlingly refined.

A soft sigh escaped her as she set the glass down, the weight of the moment pressing in on her shoulders. She picked up her fork and nudged a slice of melon across the porcelain plate. Hunger wasn’t what had drawn her here after all, it was curiosity and even a desire to protect her colleagues back home by entertaining her father’s invitation. Saedre watched him over the rim of her glass, wondering which of them would speak first when the game truly began.

“You recall my visit not long before the Raven’s Nest was attacked and my warning, do you not?” he finally spoke, his voice cutting through the silence like a hot knife through butter. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, hands steepled with a practiced calm that contradicted the weight of his words. His tone wasn’t accusatory. It was cooler than that. Almost curious, as if he were inviting her to admit to a mistake he already knew she’d made.

Neither of them had touched the meal, and by now, the untouched fruit and chilled glasses served only as a false display. This was never meant to be a meal. It was a chessboard. And she had known it the moment she accepted the invitation.

Iaerian tilted his head, golden eyes narrowing slightly. “You didn’t heed my warning,” he continued, voice low. “Didn’t seem to alert your superiors either, given how easily the attack came over your lot.”

Saedre stiffened slightly, but didn’t look away. He wasn’t wrong. The Raven’s Nest was attacked too easily, and his warning had seemed more like a provocation at the time than a genuine concern. But now, in the aftermath, she couldn't help but wonder if that had been the point all along. To test her. 

“I’ve seen no real concern from you in a long time,” she said, her voice cold and cutting like the edge of a drawn blade. “The last time you approached me like this, it was only to sow the seeds of chaos among my former allies within the Violet Bastion. So tell me, dear father, what choice did you leave me with? How could I take your warning as anything but another scheme? Another twisted game, meant to manipulate, to wound - and for what?”

Iaerian sighed, leaning back in his chair, fingers stroking his neatly trimmed beard. With a flick of his other hand, he waved her off. “Enough with the theatrics, Saedre. We go round and round like this, where does it ever end?”

“I don’t know,” she shot back, eyes narrowing, voice low with suspicion. “You tell me.”

He studied her in silence for a long moment, choosing his words with care. Outwardly, Iaerian remained the picture of calm, but to Saedre’s surprise, there was a note of something else. Concern, perhaps, woven into the game she expected him to play. And then at last, he spoke.

“While I appreciate your discretion in keeping my past to yourself, just as fiercely as you guard your own, you and I both know the truth. My experience with the kind of people you’re fighting could be a great asset to you and your colleagues.”

Saedre blinked, stunned into silence for a moment. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a mix of disbelief and biting wit, “You want to join us? Formally? Knowing you would rank well below me?“

“I could simply not reveal your history because I am quite embarrassed by it if I were to be honest,” She let out a dry laugh. “By the stars, you must be really bored out here.”

“All I ask is that you open a line of contact between me and your leader,” he said, voice calm but firmer now. “Perhaps speaking with him will free us from this endless game of words you and I seem so fond of weaving around one another.”

Iaerian leaned forward slightly, narrowing his eyes at her. His tone shifted. It was stern and with the faintest edge of something that almost sounded paternal, “My concern is for you, Saedre. You insist on surrounding yourself with these colorful sorts I’d rather not spare a thought for, and in doing so, you leave me no choice but to take a more personal hand in your protection. The protection of our line.”

“Our line would be thriving today if you had warned my husband and your granddaughter about the fates awaiting them,” she said, voice low and cold. “Or have you forgotten so easily? I certainly haven’t.” Saedre fixed him with a dangerous glare, her fangs flashing just beneath her lips; a silent warning sharpened by old wounds.

He met her gaze steadily, the weight of past decisions heavy behind his eyes. “I had no choice,” he said quietly, voice steady but laced with surprising regret. “Every path I took was a road I was forced onto, Saedre. It was out of necessity. If I had warned them, you and I wouldn’t be standing here today. What I did was to protect a greater outcome, even if it meant sacrifice.”

Iaerian paused, the faintest flicker of vulnerability breaking through his usual calm. “I bear the burden of those choices every day. Believe me when I say, I never acted without reason, no matter how cold it may have seemed.”

“And yet,” she snapped, voice rising with fury, “You could have let me go. To let me fall alongside them willingly. But you didn’t. You took that choice away from me. That is where my grievance runs deepest. It was selfish of you to hold onto me in the manner you did while I watched my family fall!” Her fingers clenched tightly into the silken fabric of the dining table, knuckles whitening with the force of her grip.

Iaerian fell silent. His eyes finally falling away from hers in that moment. The weight of her words hit him with a force he had not fully prepared for in all his cunning and his perception. The words he perhaps deserved to hear after all that time and yet, his eyes flickered, looking back to her quickly.

“So, allow me to make this up to you with my hand in aid. In doing so, you would allow me to try and make it all up to you while giving me the chance to restore something within you. To give you back that joy you once had by finding a suitable soul to walk alongside you. Will it ever be the same? Will it replace those who had fallen? No. And that is not my intention, but our line hangs in the balance and it must be preserved.”

“Humans and these other lesser beings would use you as nothing more than a conquest, Saedre. I cannot stand aside and watch that unfold simply because you have let a loneliness you work so hard to hide slip out so recklessly,” he couldn’t help but add that in. It was important she knew exactly where he stood on that and he would never relent.

“My decisions are my own,”Saedre said at last, her voice quiet but steady.

A long silence passed between them. Her veins still burned hot with the remnants of anger, but slowly, the fire faded, leaving only a dull ache behind. She rose to her feet, eyes lingering on her father. Then came a tired sigh, “If that is all, I’ll take my leave. I’ll speak to Xaviez. To see if he’s willing to open a dialogue with you. But I cannot promise anything. His word is final when it comes to the Nightblade Consortium.”

And with that, there was nothing more to say. The words that needed saying had been spoken and those left unspoken, for now, would remain buried. Saedre turned on her heel and moved to the door, her footsteps swift and decisive. Memories stirred, heavy as stone. If she’d stayed a moment longer, she feared the weight of them might have crushed the breath from her.