#(uhhh that's not a reference to gwen/tybalt; it's gwen/althea ft. tybalt)

[anghraine]

So, err, I continue to only find the will for niche AU-of-my-own-fic GW2 content. For those who have any context, this snippet takes place in the ten-level gap between the first Order of Whispers arc (rescuing Demmi Beetlestone) and the second (helping the skritt/quaggan/whoever).

But seeing Ascalon, at last. It had grown back, people said: the trees, the flowers. Gwen could see them, touch them. She could set foot on the same land that her foremothers and forefathers had, back when they were prosperous tradesfolk in Ashford instead of starving on the streets of Divinity's Reach or desperately fighting for Ebonhawke.

"You don't have to go see it," Tybalt added. "Maybe you'd rather pray or something."

Gwen actually laughed again.

"You can believe this," she said. "I don't hate you at all, Tybalt. I'd be glad to see Ashford with you."

He clapped her on the shoulder with his good paw, and her knees nearly buckled.

"Good to hear," he said. "I don't hate you either, Gwen. Tomorrow it is. Meet you in the Trader's Forum?"

"I'll be there," said Gwen.