#LADYLEONSTER

[lordleonster]

moments together more than apart { quan & ethlyn

in reply to Ethlyn's post:

Something desparate in his wife's voice makes his blood chill, knowing full well that she believes like no other. She's the sort of woman who heeds a sign of danger if she can afford to, and if she can't, it's because she knows the glass castle will fall. It has to work. He wants to think it warm. A sentiment on both their wills, sealed by a kiss tender enough to net the light. "Come now." He simpers, humming deep enough for his throat to vibrate. "It will. Our wills together are stronger than apart."

There's a nagging feeling in the back of his head, trying to ignore all the warning signs. He knows what has transpired between them. Everything that has transpired between them. But he's sick of thumbing old ear-marks. Sick of rereading verses that make his ego crumble. He wants her to be happy. And in turn, he too, can be happy.

His children are his wellspring, and now, atop this quiet tower, he hears the brush of wind calling. "Eth..." A breathy sigh, amidst her loving touch. His heart is unraveling at each knot, startled by a love that has been as kind as it has been cruel. He had much to worry about: his daughter's malignancy, his son's pacing, their family's happiness... And Thracia. But, as his daughter would have it, he is also a man privy to indulgence. Once more, he presses his lips on her temple.

"I know! What a moment to wait for." Laughing into her skin, he breathes in her oh-so familiar perfume. "I love you." And a lump in his throat follows. "I need you."

"I have only you and the kids to my name." Love should be enough.

"At the center of every speech I've made. Every letter, every poem I've fumbled. 'I love you' is at my lips. Down to my fingers. They shake, sometimes, because of how much I do."

And less seriously, he breathes a laugh out of his nose. "You put on such a beautiful gown, and ran up a tower in heels. I am not going to deprive you of a dance! Or all the moments in the world." He pressed a glove hand into her hair, patting her without a care for her accessories going out of place. "Now..."

They glided back down to the ballroom. The stairs were even easier now that they could see their descent down. Elegant candles, floating masks of those who were anonymously carding their way through tonight, the entire boutique was a beautiful, haunting thing.

Poised with his hand floating to her, he took a deep bow. "I am not a dancer. But for you, always, for you. I would."

"Could I have this dance, milady?"

@ladyleonster

[ulircursed]

♡ au where Byron and Ring set their youngest up together what could possibly go wrong

from this picrew

(there is a canon base template for both children (scipio and leif) but changing the parentage will change everything else so i won't rename them but will basically treat them as completely different people from their canon counterparts!)

but yeah since they were set up at a young age, andrei and ethlyn were more heavily encouraged to interact in their childhood then they were in canon, which to them is just. bickering. every moment of every day they are forced to spend together. they get to know each other really well but that doesn't mean they like each other all that much. at the same time they've known all their lives they're gonna be married when they grow up so like. welp.

they get married before the events of fe4 occur, and ethlyn has 'scipio' and stays in yngvi castle with edain when the guys go off to war. i think the only way for the second kid to be born is if the conspiracy doesn't happen as quickly, so they all come back alive and the two of them have 'leif' and then the rumors start to spread and then andrei does the thing and joins the conspiracy crew and presumably edain and ethlyn go to sigurd's side together, the latter taking the kids with her. neither of them have major blood so andrei won't fight for custody. kids end up in tirnagog gang with auntie edain after eth dies in the meteor attack :thumbsup:

for big bro 'scipio'

class: free knight > ranger (mounted, sword a)

blood: minor ullr, minor baldr

extremely conflicted individual; was of an age where he was aware of things going on by the time of his father's betrayal and his mom's death and the rest of the kids having to go on the run, so he has inherited the burden (in his own mind) of the sins of the fathers. heavily resents the idea of andrei and everything he stands for, which includes archery and the very idea of yngvi itself. gets into arguments with cousin lester about this

has canon leif's inferiority complex re: cousin seliph, but dialed up bc he feels like his family is the black sheep of the chalphy-yngvi extended family thanks to andrei's actions, whereas seliph is still the scion of light. it doesn't help that he's likely the eldest of the gen ii kids, someone who maybe should've been looked up to, yet feels like he's the 'worst' and not a good example of anything. prefers to avoid seliph if at all possible

has an overall very prickly personality (ironically, very similar to andrei's), even to family members (and god they have a lot of cousins), but is in practice fiercely protective of his little brother. hurting him will be the last thing you ever do

vocal hater of arranged marriages, bc look where that got their family. believes in free love for everyone else, and no love for himself

ties up his hair in battle because he is a practical guy

less practically, red is still his favorite color and the color of his clothing, even though it clashes with his pink hair

for little bro 'leif'

class: troubadour > paladin, but the version like his mom where he can also use staves (mounted, sword b, lance c, staff c)

blood: minor ullr, minor baldr

takes after his mother in terms of personality, being kind and caring but also headstrong and impulsive. is rather good at talking to and persuading people, as long as they aren't his own big brother

loves auntie edain a lot!! he so desperately wanted to join the convent when he was a little kid just so he could be by her side at all times. learned his healing magic from her, and thanks to the ethlyn-given natural talent has become another healer for their gang. often practices together with lana

ok-ish at combat, but he's not very careful and often gets into different cuts and scrapes. gets berated by his big brother a lot for it, but doesn't really learn to be more careful. deep down, he does this because he knows that his big bro being protective of him is the only way that he can semi-healthily show love, and some part of him craves that as well

is the one in the army who most often wistfully daydreams about how life could've been better if none of the gen i mess happened. he wants a happy family, and he wants a loving mom and dad, and deep within his caring, cheerful attitude is a venomous resentment for his father / the conspiracy that rivals his big brother's

[wingboundwarrior]

"Ethlyn Claus of Leonster," she greets with a smile, holding her hand out for Fiora to shake. "You look really cool with your bandana like that. I tried wearing mine in a similar way--it's how my daughter likes to style her hair and I thought I'd give it a try--but I think I just looked silly. You, though. You can totally pull it off! I'm looking forward to getting to know you better and seeing just what you can do out there. Let's give it our best!"

Fiora’s standing in the shade of a palm tree, absently watching others from the monastery play in the surf and sand, when a pink-haired person approaches her. Around her age — bright, kind eyes — and a hand held out already. The length of the name of the other individual doesn’t escape her — Fiora takes her hand, but still bows her head.

“It’s a pleasure. I think I recall seeing you around... I just joined the Knights of Seiros. My name is Fiora. I am a pegasus knight.”

Someone her age, with a child... Well, Fiora was much longer than her when a motherhood of sorts was foisted upon her. Though it had been an impossible journey, she’d trade those precious years for nothing.

“I look forward to it, too, my lady.” Fiora smiles kindly, but her eyes seem to be scanning the area every few moments, still... “Do you... know what it is we’re going to be doing here?”

[starrook]

"Dark blue hair and bright eyes..." Ethlyn remembers Citrinne's description and doesn't see anyone here that resembles it more than Alcryst. "So you must be Alcryst! I've just had the pleasure of meeting your cousin and she had so much to say about you that I had to come meet you myself."

She holds out both of her hands, one with a teardrop crystal and one to shake. "I'm Ethlyn Claus of Leonster. Very excited to get to meet you!"

Alcryst's eyes widen in alarm when his name is called by a stranger. "O-Oh, you must mean Citrinne... But yes, I'm Alcryst. it's lovely to meet you too, Miss Ethlyn."

The woman's warmth and genial nature allows her to glow with a light that makes his worthless soul shrivel further into the shadows. "I'm so sorry. I'm sure you were expecting someone more impressive and princely than the wretch you see before you now."

Now, with his self-confidence down in the dumps, Alcryst isn't sure if he should even dare to shake Ethlyn's hand. But it would be rude not to, right? He starts with the brooch, replacing her teardrop crystal with one of his own white feathers. "Citrinne, she's one of the kindest people I know, but I fear that I never quite match up to her generous descriptions of me..."

[nothosword]

Ethlyn's eyes narrow as she approaches Fergus and prods him firmly in the sternum. "Not only do you show up to my party late but you don't even bother to stop and introduce yourself?" Granted, she barely gave him any chance to do so before marching her way up to him right after entering but it would not have been as funny otherwise.

It's not like she's serious either. Not entirely.

She throws her head back with a laugh and offers her hand in a firm shake. "Ethlyn Claus. My brother, Sigurd, and I are hosting. Don't take me too seriously. You, of course, are welcome to a great time!"

Ow. What kind of lady pokes a charming young guy at a dinner party?

Fergus whips around to meet her, his low ponytail flying behind his back. It's only his first day out here, so he sort of just stumbled in--didn't even have time to get dressed--but things looked so lively he simply couldn't exclude himself! Now he's biting himself for it. The woman blabbers on, but between the slight sting on his chest and his waning attention, he could care less.

That is, of course, until he hears the name 'Sigurd.' "Woah, woah, wait." He hesitates to shake her hand, a smile of his own creeping over his face, "Sigurd? Like, that hotshot from Chalphy? So you're Grannvale..."

Like those dogs that harassed Karin. Fergus should be beating her up right now.

Her hand is suddenly seized with a crushing grip, and shaken so hard her shoulders jostle in their sockets. "You guys never change, always laying it thick on the little guy! Name's Fergus," he laughs, deciding to ley bygones be bygones and play along with her joke, "I'll get myself well-acquainted, don't you worry."

A pause as he returns her hand to him. It eluded him before, but the hosts of Baldr's Bounty are well and true Jugdralis--not some Crusader-pushing posers.

"Say... I know this might be a long shot, but there aren't any Leif's in attendance, are there?"

[enarmor]

✢⁎. widow’s web

Swordsmasters of Elyos and Hoshido have long inspired people with their signature finishing move: the ability to cut through an opponent with dazzling speed, so fast that one can’t even perceive the blade leaving its sheath. The Battle of the Eagle and Lion reignites interest in learning these techniques. Determined students have made some progress but haven’t quite mastered the move. Think you can help them? [ Grants Sword +1 ]

“O cherry blossom of delight, how your eyes shine in this afternoon light. Have they always held this radiant color? I believe they draw out beauty from thine face like a bucket from a well!”

To hell with swordplay. Sain signed up for this silly class as a way of learning the skills his liege so regularly employs in battle—perhaps as a way of impressing her, perhaps as a way of defending her—but the soft features of another pull and chain his desire.

“Oohhh, your charm is irresistible!” he exclaims, face full of glee as his blade clatters to the ground and feet move to the picture of his love, “Let us toss away our swords and fill our arms with each other's company.” He cocks her his most romantic brow, and fingers find the tip of her blade to begin lowering it. Surely she is the one. Surely she can mend the ache in his heart, fulfill his knightly duties and be his lovely wedded bride!

If his joy could be extracted into feathers, Sain would soar—high above the clouds.

“Training… Bah, who needs it? One’s body can be molded any old day. But a fated encounter like this only happens once… Please, my damsel, do not throw away this chance…!”

//starter for @ladyleonster

[anruraiocht]

It is with care that Ethlyn approaches Miranda to offer her a taste of the main course of the feast. Their last meeting had not gone smoothly at all but Ethlyn still holds Ulster’s princess dearly in her heart. Even if Miranda may not wish to have anything to do with her, Ethlyn still owes her her deepest thanks.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you decided to come.” Ethlyn offers a soft smile as she offers a platter displayed with a variety of finely roasted poultry meats, cooked in a traditional Chalphy style of one-within-the-other. The skin of the turkey is crispy, and the fats from the duck have marinated both the chicken within and the turkey without. There are cloves and lemon slices studding the plate, combining to form a melange of rich flavors. The choice of which piece to take is up to the feaster – there is plenty to go around!

“If you will allow it, I would like to offer my sincerest gratitude from my family to yours. From me to you.” She bows her head, an attempt to show just how much she truly means this. “I know my words must seem awfully hollow and meaningless when set beside everything that’s happened to you. I know that it is actions that truly show how much a person cares but I will promise you this: one day I will find a way to prove it to you.”

Miranda is many things. Stubborn. Foul tempered. Haughty. A princess of little power. Oft forgotten in the grand scheme of things.

A fool, though, she is not.

She knows exactly why she is seated where she is and she resents it.

"I did not come here for you," Miranda says bluntly, stabbing her fork into the white meat. It doesn't truly matter what piece she takes, because she doesn't think she'll be able to taste it anyway. "I came because Lord Sigurd insinuated attendance was mandatory. That is all."

Her mother would have loved such an event, would have cooed over how tall Leif had become and teased over how Ethlyn had never told her what a beauty her daughter was. She would have been delighted to find Leif and Nanna still attached at the hip and Finn watching over them as their guardian.

Her father... well, he would probably feel awkward seeing Quan again, but he would still manage to be polite. That's the kind of man he was. Compared to all of the rambunctious personalities at this gathering, he would fade into the background. He wouldn't mind too much, because the peaceful atmosphere would have brought a smile to his face regardless. Just like in the old days, Leonster and Ulster would be seated together as allies.

None of this matters, though, because her parents are not among the ghosts attending this banquet.

It does not matter what they would have done or thought, because they are dead. Whatever miracle had brought Leif's parents back to him had not done the same for Miranda. Surrounded by the entirety of the Leonster royal family and their loved ones, Miranda sits alone.

(No, not entirely alone. Sara is next to her; the only thing keeping her from leaving altogether. Nanna sits across from her as well, even if Miranda tries to avoid her gaze. Leif, seated diagonally from her, reflects the discomfort she feels like a mirror.)

She is unable to taste the poultry, but the glass of wine clenched in her hand tastes just as bitter as all the other times. It matters not that it stings and burns her throat when it's the only thing at this table she can taste.

Leonster's lady bows her head to Miranda and she knows, diplomatically speaking, how she should respond. She should smile and reassure her that everything is in the past and that what happened to her no longer mattered. Everything is fine now that (most) everyone is together again, just like in the past.

These are not the old days, though. The heirs of Leonster and Ulster are broken, fractured mirrors that don't suit this kind of event at all, hastily reassembled in the charade of nobility. Miranda has dressed up, because that is what she knows how to do. Leif has dressed down, because that is what he knows how to do.

But neither of them knows how to navigate a relationship that shouldn't exist.

"Lady Ethlyn, my family has fed your son and now your family has fed me. That is as far as I wish for your concern for me to go."

[aimlessarchery]

“Hey, you're a professor for my kids’ house, right? Leif and Altena? What do you think, are they doing alright?”

Ethlyn fishes around for a moment in the box of carefully prepared party favors she's carrying, weighing each one to figure out which might have the most treats inside. It can't hurt to bribe one of their professors, right? Even if Altena probably isn't super interested in bows.

“Anyway, glad you could make it to the party. Here's a little something just for you!” She offers up a bag of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings with a smile. If he is tempted to peek inside, he will find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within.

"I haven't heard much about 'em lately, so they must not be getting into too much trouble." Not that Python is the most attentive teacher, but he's been here long enough for both students and fellow staff to have caught onto that fact. If this carefully selected gift bag is a bribe, it's made all that much sweeter by the lack of obligation he feels to fulfill it. He accepts the favor with a grin. "Ooh, so fancy…" He chuckles, as if making a joke to himself. "I'd have worn a nicer shirt if I'd known this was a velvet kind of affair."

[lanceofleonster]

When she sees him, Ethlyn drops everything and runs full sprint to pull him into her arms. He's older. Sadder in the eyes. But she knows the second she sees the man's face that this is Finn. He was her husband's squire but he was always so much more than that. He's family.

"Finn!" She laughs and tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "It's really you! I knew you'd find your way here eventually! Leif's told me everything. Everything you've helped him with, everything you've done."

There's so much to say. Too much to say. She doesn't even know where to start or what to feel. Maybe it doesn't matter. She hugs him tighter before looking up at him and reaches up toward his face.

"Thank you. For everything. I owe you so much."

As the young woman ambushed him, Finn could find nothing to say. No response to her tears of joy could express the mixture of confusion, guilt and joy that this moment brought him. Memories of his training rushed to meet him as quickly as he was pulled into a hug, of happier times than he had known for what felt like forever.

True, he had planned on what to say when next they met, after he set off for the desert. But those words were for a sandy corpse, and the Ethlyn in front of him was alive, and as lively as the day he last saw her.

"I could never hold you in debt, Lady Ethlyn." Finn wrapped an arm back around her. Had she always needed to reach so high to his face? "To see you safe, and know that Lord Leif has his mother again… you have repaid my service tenfold."

[nagaficat]

Dee, I'm so glad you were able to make it. It wouldn't be a Chalphy celebration without you here.” Allowed to make it though she doesn't word it like that to her sister in law’s face. She worries about her, hates to see her so chained to the man that murdered her brother. But! Deirdre is here and Ethlyn hopes the holiday mood will help knock some sense into her. Maybe she should have hung more mistletoe?

“Here's a little something my brother and I put together for you. Our favorite treats when we were growing up. Sig’s favorite almonds–you know how little he cares for sweets. And the peppermint is my favorite. I hope, we hope, you like them.” She takes Deirdre's hand and gently places a bag of party favors that I do not need to describe to my own self in her palm. Her voice grows softer and her expression turns serious. “You know I'm here for you, right? If you need help, I'm here.”

"Of course I came!" Deirdre laughs merrily as her dear sister in law greets her. And she means it. When the invitation arrived, her heart grew wings and flew. Lord Sigurd and Lady Ethlyn both had thought of her and wanted her to attend. An invitation was delivered to Lord Arvis too. A sign, surely, that all of the pieces will finally click into place and she will be able to live one complete, happy life.

"You have both outdone yourselves, truly." She looks around, eyes wide, and marvels at the festive decor. "This hardly looks like the same dining hall!" Her smile falters but only just a little. "I wish you had reached out to me. I would have loved to have helped..."

Deirdre notices the shift in Ethlyn's tone. Sees the lines of worry crease across her face. She does not understand the need for it but she takes Ethlyn's hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. "Lady Ethlyn, my sister, I am quite fine. In fact, I have never been happier."

[frauleindermorgen]

“Oh here, let me grab that for you!” Ethlyn grabs the dish Micaiah is holding, careful that it might be hot. She is quite pleased with the assortment of food her guests have decided to bring. Of course, there would have been plenty of food without the pot luck element but there is something special about food shared. Each person who brought a dish brought a piece of their own homeland and, with so many people from so many different places here, it’s nice to know that each of them will have something familiar to them.

In the end, that’s what this whole event is about: bringing a sense of familiarity and home.

“It smells delicious! Ah and, trade you!” Ethlyn hands over a bag of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings. If she is tempted to peek inside, she will find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within.

Though Micaiah has spent years attending classes and, indeed, eating in the same hall if not the same table as these people she finds herself oddly nervous when it comes to the Chalphy’s invitation. A party, and one for the joy of the season rather than selfish social connections – it’s wonderful! And completely outside of Micaiah’s experiences thus far. She wears the black and silver dress from her first Ethereal Ball (though with a shawl this time) with the tourmaline hair pin Pelleas had given her not long ago, and for the first time fusses overly in the small mirror in her room wondering if it was enough.

When she gets there Lady Ethlyn’s warm greeting takes near all her worries away, and she finds herself grinning back ass he carefully hands the three bean soup over. “Oh, thank you! For having me and the help,” Micaiah explains as she follows her to where the other potluck items are all laid out; “and it’s not much but I figured there must be others who would appreciate a hearty soup without the meat. Ah, it looks like you really have a feast here.”

When Lady Ethlyn hands her the bag Micaiah takes it reverently, holding it close to her chest with the same smile as before. “I am humbled by your hospitality, and while I will now go find my seat please do let me know if you or Sir Sigurd need any help. I’ve heard it’s the season for it!”

[lordleonster]

[ Goddess Tower ] [ Champagne ]

In typical Ethlyn fashion, she has little patience to wait till the end of the evening to pull Quan away from the crowds and up the stairs of the Goddess Tower for a moment alone. It is her third year attending this ball and she's heard the stories and the legends enough times over the course of years now that she knows how desperately she wants to share this moment with him.

And she knows his nostalgic heart will love the romance.

"Come on, it's just up these stairs!" She laughs as she pulls his hand, her other hand wrapped around the neck of a champagne bottle and the stems of two flutes.

They are greeted by the moon when they reach the top and Ethlyn sets down the drinks and promptly forgets about them. She steps in close to Quan and slides a hand up to his cheek.

"Have you heard the rumors about this place? Something about how two people who are in love can make a wish together and Fódlan's goddess will grant it. I want to make a wish with you, Quan. I want to wish that our family won't ever be ripped apart again. Would you make that wish with me?"

"What is? Who?" Quan laughs into his questions between steps—her arms feel so small when wrapped around his. She shifts his long, dark sleeves as his guide up this tower. He has heard no tales of wonder nor legends shared, but she bounces on her heels like she has a secret shelled between her lips. He wonders if she knows she all but pearls when she's trying to pull him into a new world with him. A joke is bound to his tongue, half poised to crack a worried line about her working in heels. But the cold light comes down in sheaths and he stops in his tracks. They reach the top in one piece.

TIP-TAP. His steps are light, gliding in tandem with hers. She easily frees them from their flutes and her hands usher him to listen. Of wishes, and a goddess-shaped hole in the sky. His cool smile curls, amused. She knows him far too well. Romantic tales are the sort to rush into his heart, waking a sleeping giant that loved the nostalgia they brought. "Ethlyn..."

His heart hangs tightly around her ribs, as he ghosts a hand over the small of her back to bring her closer. "Our family means so much to me." He masters the way yearning feels so at home. "...I would wish nothing more than to preserve what we have, now."

I want to hold you.

"I need you close."

The words are all the same once he crosses breaths with her. "What a grand wish, my love." He loves the way she turns to summer, to spring. She is the first to trip the dandelions, leaving them to swirl up to the sky. "I wish the same. For our family to never be apart."

Quan cups her cheeks, powdered lightly with a subtle hue that matched her hair. His fingers slide ever-slightly over her jaw, as spare locks slip under his pads. A tilt of his nose, and a touch of her lips, as he kisses her into autumn. He tastes her, relishes her. Remembers the gilded shadow of a god they were under. And pulls her in, closer still. The folds of her dress follow a track of his hands, as he knows his irreverence to the gods still remains. But it is romantic. His heart is full. It is really, quite romantic. He parts, only to press the side of his cheek onto hers.

"Tell me dear, do you think it'll work?"

Quan grins, running quite a smug expression on his mug. He knows it will work because it's them. Because the Aed that had buried them is now a memory, as is everything else. And the god-sized hole becomes smaller when he frames himself around her.

[ulircursed]

a hesitant kiss, arranged marriage au for you 

"And now you may kiss the bride!"

Neither of them move. She knows he feels the same way she does about this entire ordeal. She knows he feels exactly the same about her as she does about him. They've never liked each other. But this union isn't about them. It's for Chalphy. It's for Yngvi. It's for Grannvale.

There's a cough in the audience and Ethlyn turns in the hours, minutes, seconds that it's been that neither of them have moved to kiss the other to see her father trying to gesture with his eyes only to urge her to get on with it.

She turns back to Andrei. Has he moved slightly closer? It's hard to tell. Her toes wiggle inside of her shoes as she struggles to figure out exactly what to do. He's the one who should initiate. If she leans in first, someone might think she is actually enjoying this.

another kiss prompt (accepting!)

"And now you may kiss the bride!"

They'd both known this had been coming for nearly all their lives.

Countless childhood arguments forcibly broken up by the warning that they will spend a future together had morphed into a fuming, mutual disdain as the date of their inevitable marriage approached. It is clear as day that they were not, and will never be, a good fit. That the marriage would not be a happy one. But it did not matter.

'Blood begets blood', as the saying went. Even if it is from another crusader, taking a spouse who is confirmed to have minor blood would, theoretically, result in a higher chance that their future children could be born with major blood.

House Chalphy does not need this, with Lord Sigurd poised to take the mantle as heir.

House Yngvi does, and desperately.

Someone clears their throat, and Andrei realizes that he had not moved. And why shouldn't he? After the disappearance of Lady Sister Brigid (lost at sea, dead, if everyone would just voice it, just accept it), everything he'd ever done had been to try and fill her position, even though the blood that runs through his veins itself dictates that he could never aspire to her heights. To have a child with major blood is one of the only things he could do, if the fates would just smile upon them.

You are merely righting your previous wrongs, false heir.

(And why would his own feelings matter, if this is the case?)

Mechanically, he moves forward, landing a chaste peck with tightened lips upon hers. This will not be the end, but just the same, he knows he will do whatever needs to be done.

For Yngvi.

[reddragonprincess]

When Ethlyn sees Minerva she has a moment where she wonders if she should have sat her next to Altena. The two women sport a similar stern expression and matching cool headbands. Ah but the Leonster end of the table is already quite filled and it's a little late now for her to be swapping seats around. There will be other opportunities to try and foster a friendship between the two!

“Minerva, right? Ethlyn Claus. Glad you could make it!” She offers her hand in a firm shake before replacing it with a bag of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings. If she is tempted to peek inside, she will find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within.

“Enjoy the festivities!”

As soon as she made her way inside the huge dining room, she felt a bittersweet sensation, as if she that whole situation kind of reminded her of the large feasts her family used to participate in and where she usually got bored pretty easily, since the pomposity and extravagance of the people around were infinitely higher than her, who simply enjoyed calmer and more relaxed situation than these.

Yet, the occasion was different; she was invited with several other guests and to much of her surprise, before she could get to her seat, she was happily greeted by one of the main organizer of the event –Lady Ethlyn. A very charming and stunning woman, a gentle smile as she approached her with a firm handshake, quickly followed by a special gift directly given to her hands, with a soft touch of her porcelain hands: with inquisitive eyes, she swiftly poked a hand inside the small package, to quickly discover some peculiar delicacies of possibly her homeland, since Minerva has never seen such strange and fragrant food all too well packaged and delivered to each guest of their party.

She was much obliged to accept the gift, exchanging a quick bow of her head and a gentle smile  in return.

“I truly accept your gift, Lady Ethlyn” she tried her best to be kind and soft, but she wasn’t really in her fitting role, “I might certainly return your kindness with some good offerings from my kingdom, the Macedon” she closed her reddish eyes in agreement, sharing a long sigh of relaxation: after the events of the Arena, this calm situation was all she needed now!

“But for now, let’s have a seat and eat something together!”

[swiftscion]

“Think fast!” Ethlyn laughs as she tosses a bag of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings without giving Larcei much time to think at all. If she is tempted to peek inside, she will find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within. It's probably not a big deal if she drops it, right? None of that stuff is super breakable.

She's met Ayra’s daughter once before–once before as an adult anyway. It brings a smile to Ethlyn's face to see her here and know she'll be part of the celebrations. “Make sure you have a great time, alright? Well, maybe not too great. I don't need your mom hounding me if you start causing trouble!” Ethlyn offers a wink as she starts to wave down her next guest to greet.

At the sound of her voice, Larcei has her head turned. This is unmistakably the mother of Leif, the very woman who had once come to her bearing a birthday gift. It had been one that she held near and dear to her heart, using as a substitute for Ayra for however look she needed. Like her sword, like her memory--like every waking shadow of the swordsmith.

She catches it dexterously, giving the back a small rattle to show off her prize. "That's two, now," she laughs, adjusting it to fit in her hands with the rest of her belongings, "like it or not Ethlyn, I'm indebted to you now. On Isaach's honor I will pay you back for this!"

She spoils the surprise early, tugging on those drawstrings until they become a window to her own little heaven. And what she sees inside marvels her. Chalphy's traditions are far more grandiose than what she had back in Tirnanog. Roasted nuts fell outside their budget, while caramel would have been liquid gold if it flowed from the empire's fist. Instead they had to pick the flowers off of potatoes, and subsist on butcher's bread. Whatever they could grow with the scant amount of sunlight afforded in hiding, they would eat. And each kid did their part, tilling Isaach's blood-soaked soil like a crone clearing cobwebs out of the corner of her room. Market stalls had to have been run by the people, else Larcei and co. would be shopping with shawls pulled around their faces.

As she stares wide-eyed at her gift, she is reminded of all the other gifts in her life.

Edain was sweeter than any peppermint, Oifey more reliable than a ship's biscuit, and it was Shannan who fashioned toy soldiers out of Od's blood and bones. Larcei owes it all to them; to call it love would be underselling things.

A chuckle falls from under her breath. Seliph was meant to celebrate like this every year of his life. Yet Isaach couldn't make him a cake to have after dinner.

"Alright," she resolves, pulling the string on her pouch until it winds up twice as tight as what Ethlyn had thrown her, "I've decided. Your debt is bein' repaid tonight. Don't worry about me--I'll make sure I have fun!"

[boundlesschaos]

Ethlyn is surprised that she doesn't recognize this particular guest and she knows she would remember that distinctive mask. It's not an issue, of course, she's more than happy to meet brand new people.

“Hi, welcome! I'm Ethlyn.” She offers her hand to Niamh in a firm shake before passing over a bag of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings. If he is tempted to peek inside, he will find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within.

“There's food, drinks, entertainment so feel free to make yourself at home. I look forward to getting to know you better!”

Niamh is careful upon receiving the curious bag. Being unsure if the contents inside are fragile or not, she decides to handle it with the upmost care. The curiosity of what's inside over any unspoken rules, however, fuels Niamh to open the bag shortly after it's been handed off to her, and the number of objects inside gives her pause. She fails to give Ethlyn a handshake, and it's only after the awkward silence that hangs and the passing of goods that Niamh notices the step she's failed to reciprocate. She brings her eyes back to Ethlyn, studying her face for a moment. Eventually, Niamh speaks. "....I'll go and take a look..." She gives Ethlyn a small nod. "Let's talk again soon..." But maybe after a little exploration.