#Quest for Ceremony of Eternal Bonding

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 22: This is Our Sanctuary

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 7.8k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

A soft kiss on your forehead and the feeling of the bond reopening, unfurling like the petals of a flower in your head is what rouses you from your trance. Astarion does not typically close the bond any longer, even when you trance, but he wanted to be sure that you would not be sucked into any of his nightmares so close to your wedding day.

“Get up, lazy girl,” he taunts, brushing your hair back and tucking the wayward strands behind your ear. He lets his finger trail down the ridge, which earns him something between a groan and a moan.

Your eyes open lazily to see Astarion in all his splendour. His hair is mussed from sleep, not yet combed and coiffed to perfection, and his waves tumble about heedlessly. He yawns, the early morning sun glinting along the edges of his fangs, and his eyes are still heavily lidded.

“It’s hardly even sun-up, Astarion,” you whine, curling into his chest and hiding your face away from the ever-brightening early morning light. “The ceremony isn’t until this evening. We can sleep for a few more hours. You cannot possibly need all fucking day to get ready.”

“You deserve perfection,” he purrs, twisting his fingers into your hair and massaging your scalp. “And perfection takes time.”

“You are perfect,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his chest with a sigh. “And it has nothing to do with your physical appearance.”

With the beating of his heart under your palm and the heat from his skin sinking into the cool of your own, your trance beckons on the borders of your consciousness.

Astarion clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m… uh… I may be a trifle too nervous to trance.”

The sleepiness recedes like a swiftly moving tide, and you sit up and take his face between your hands. “Are you having second thoughts? If it’s not what you want, we don’t have to do this, Astarion.”

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes, and you feel the wash of comfort he feels through the bond. The tension melts away from him, his shoulders relax, and the pinch in his brow eases. He nuzzles your palm and places a kiss on it before reopening his strikingly ruby-red eyes.

“Don’t be so foolish.” Astarion scoffs while his arms encircle your waist, and he pulls you into his lap. “Of course I am not having second thoughts. Good Gods, Illyria.”

“I just want you to know you have the option,” you assert, keeping your intonation tender.

“As much as I do appreciate the sentiment, I want this more than I have ever wanted anything in my very long life,” he insists. Astarion gently picks stray strands of hair out of your eyelashes, brushing them away. “So little in my life has actually been my own, and even less of that has ever meant anything, but this... Gods. This means everything to me. You mean everything to me.”

He looks askance, his eyes falling away from yours. “For so long, I never had anything to lose, and now I stand to lose so much.” Astarion lets out a long exhale. His brows downturn at the ends in a sombre expression. “I am... frightened.” He finally forces the word out in a rush. “I am scared that one of these times I will lose myself and I will be lost. For good.”

“Astarion,” you start, bringing your palm up to cup his cheek, but he catches your wrist and cuts you off.

“Listen to me. If that should happen, if I am truly gone, I need you to promise you will run, get as far from me as you possibly can, and never look back.”

It’s not a promise you’re willing to make, even with his eyes that plead, and you shake your head. “I can’t promise you that, Astarion. What I can promise is that I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen. I would not lose you to Cazador, and I will not lose you to this.”

You still haven’t told him about the deal you made. Every time you mean to bring it up, the confession will not unlatch from your tongue. The words stick in the back of your throat, like being caught in a spider’s web.

“Gods, you always were unbearably mulish.” Astarion laments with a sigh.

“I prefer to think of myself as adorably willful,” you quip, trying to lighten the mood. You rack your fingers through his hair and let the tips gently ghost down the edge of his tapered ear.

It earns you a delightful shudder, and he readjusts you on his lap with a highly arched brow. “Trying to distract me, are you? Naughty girl.”

“Is it working?”

Astarion shifts you once more, bucking his hips up and grinding his hardening desire against you. “Indeed it is, my love,” he purrs erotically. “We should get you fed, yes?”

Before you can answer, Astarion cants his head to the side, offering his neck with a smile that seems to be all heart. The offer of blood and the sight of the vein pulsing nearly make your strike like an angry viper, but you’re getting better with restraint. Instead, you curb that desire, lean forward, place a chaste kiss on his warm lips along the angular plane of his jaw, and rain them slowly down his neck.

His hands come to your hips, strong fingers firmly pressing into your skin. Your fangs pop through Astarion’s flesh with as quick of a pinch as your unskilled self is capable of. The groan that hums from Astarion is not one of pain but of need.

Blood quickly fills your mouth, breathing vitality into you with every swallow of the rich, salty sanguine poem. It is a call to prayer, the heavens chanting against your tastebuds, and good Gods, you worship on the alter of his neck in moans.

“Just like that,” he breathes. “I will tell you when to stop.”

Astarion’s guides your hips in a slow rock, back and forth, dragging your increasingly wet folds leisurely up and down his pulsing erection. He angles his hips so the head of his cock runs across the spot you need it most with every swipe. You can barely focus on both sensations at once, and blood starts to glide a trail down his chest.

He whines, a sound you do not often hear from the Ascendant, and his fingers slip between your folds to start teasing the border of your pining clit. You whimper, your eyes fluttering closed momentarily at the staggering sensation, and your hips buck, trying to persuade his finger to quicken their gentle circles and swipes.

With every shift of your hips, you feel the velvet of his length, throbbing and so very hard, nestled between your lips. His hips buck, rutting against you, seeking the friction that his cock is begging for.

You realize, perhaps a little belatedly, that he hasn’t requested you stop, but his heart rate is beginning to sound slightly irregular. You withdraw your fangs, sitting back on his legs with your brow creased in worry.

Astarion gives you a droll, half-smile, his eyes appearing slightly glassy and dazed.

“Shit,” you murmur, pressing your hand against the wound even though the skin is already beginning to knit itself back together. “You should have told me to stop. This isn’t a good day to have you laid up in bed because I drained you dry.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “What would you have me say? You’re as distracting as you are wet. You’ve made a positively delicious mess of my lap.” Astarion glances down at the trail of blood that’s made it to his mid chest. “And my chest, it seems. Messy thing,” he tuts.

Astarion’s fingers wrap behind your neck. He pulls you to his lips, shuddering excitedly when his tongue slips in and he tastes himself on you. His free arm wraps around your waist, guiding you to your back. Hooking your knee with his, he pushes your legs apart further before sitting back on his heels and taking a moment to look down at you sprawled out and panting for him.

He fists his erection, giving himself a slow stroke from root to tip, and then taps the head of his cock on your swollen bud. A sudden jolt of intense pleasure sparks through you with every strike, making you squirm. His eyes lock with yours, and he slides lower, grinding himself against your entrance but never sinking in.

“I would do it all again, you know,” he leans over you, lining up. “Those two centuries of darkness and torment, if I knew that you were on the other side of it.”

“Astarion,” you wheeze as he slides himself inside you inch by inch, rocking his hips to work you open. You gather enough presence of mind to shake your head. “No. Don’t say that.”

“Not saying it doesn’t make it any less true.” He presses your legs apart, sinking himself deeper with every stroke. His forehead presses against yours, his hips moving quicker with every pass. “I love you, and I have loved you for far longer than I cared to admit, even to myself, but I cannot love you gently.” As if to make his point, he pulls out most of the way, delighting in the way you whine at the loss of fullness, and sinks back in to the hilt with a fierce snap of his hips that makes both of you gasp. “I will love you totally and completely, and perhaps a little madly, for eternity.”

He angles himself, and once your breathy moan and a tight clench around him confirm that he’s succeeded in hitting that perfect spot inside you, his pace shifts from a slow grind to a more vigorous tempo that leaves you seeing nothing but white hot pleasure and his intensely red eyes that bleed into you.

You want to tell him you love him and that it’s okay if his love is a little mad, a little possessive, a little dark, because your love for him is not for the feint of heart. There is no limit to the lengths you would go for him, and that in itself is a frightening prospect. But your words are lost in pants and moans, the sound of skin smacking skin, and tangled limbs.

So you reach out and touch his mind, requesting him to open himself to you further, and let snaps of memories flow freely, allowing the emotions behind them to be fully felt. You give him glimpses of how his laughter infects you with feelings of warmth and how you would do anything to hear it. How his smile makes you melt into a puddle of pure affection. How his voice is your favourite sound. How your devotion is unlimited, transcending the bounds of time and space.

Astarion quietly whines as the memories embrace him, his hips stuttering and faltering in their pace. He kisses your forehead, your cheeks, along your jaw, your collarbone, and every place he possibly can, as if his lips cannot stand not to be on your skin. Your legs wind around him, tugging him close, and your hips rock to meet his every thrust.

The drag of him against your sensitive walls, the decadent fullness, and the heat of his panting breath in your mouth are too much to bear. Your pleasure builds, your core clenching around his every pump.

But your pleasure is not the only thing you can feel. You can feel his as well. The tightness and overwhelming ache of pleasure in his belly, the urge to release, building rapidly to a delicious acuteness as he tiptoes toward the precipice.

Hells below. It’s intoxicating to know just how intensely he desires you, how you fill him full of pleasure so profound that he cannot think straight, the waves of euphoria that bleed through the bond as your bodies move as one, connected as one, feel as one.

“Illyria,” he pants with urgency. “F—fuck. I’m—“

The words are lost, but you don’t need them anyway. “Come for me,” you whisper against his ear.

His lips crash against yours, his tongue sliding in, and he lets go, his cock pulsing and releasing streams of hot seed deep within you. His pleasure tips you over the edge of your own climax, and your walls spasm and massage his length, drawing every last drop out of him that he will give you.

Astarion collapses on top of you, nestling his head in the crook of your neck while you stroke his back. You’re careful touching his scars, paying close attention to both the bond and his body language, but Astarion only relaxes further into your touch.

Neither of you move for a long while after the throes of your orgasms subside, content to remain enveloped in each other’s embrace.

He nips your collarbone lightly. “There, now we are both a mess.”

You scoff, but kiss his forehead and tousle his hair. “I would not have made such a mess if you had just kept your hands to yourself.”

“Oh, darling,” he giggles with a disapproving click of his tongue. “Wherever is the fun in that?”

The mirror of the vanity gleams back at you empty — always and forevermore, empty. You glance outside at the descending sun. The ceremony is mere hours away, and you still haven’t begun to get ready. Various implements have been laid out on the shiny mahogany table before you: hairbrushes, combs, ties, and hairpins, some regular and others with small diamonds glinting on the ends. On the other side, lip sticks, eyeshadows, liners, and every other cosmetic you could ever ask for in every imaginable hue.

Your fingers grasp a comb and run it through your long hair, but you have no idea how you’re going to do anything with it. You can put it up or leave it down, but any intricate style is beyond your capabilities since you cannot even see what you’re doing.

You want to look beautiful. Of course you do. It’s your wedding day. Gods know Astarion will look perfect with not a strand of his silvery hair out of place or a wrinkle in his suit, and then there will be you, standing beside him, looking like you do not belong with someone so captivatingly handsome.

You wonder if he will be embarrassed and are suddenly extremely thankful that at least you won’t embarrass him in front of all your friends. Were you pretty? You used to be, you think, but what about now? Your skin has lost its once sun-kissed golden hue, and your eyes are no longer the bright colours they used to be.

You glance back up at the mirror once more, hoping against hope that, for at least today, you might be given the reprieve of its scorn, but you are not that fortunate. Its reflective surface continues to dismiss you.

Tears prick your eyes in frustration, and they sail to the villa’s ceiling while you wrack your fingers through your hair. How in the Hells are you going to manage this?

“Little love?” Astarion taps on the door before letting himself in. He had been adamant that he wanted to get ready in separate rooms, if only to give some normalcy to the event. “What’s wrong, Illyria? I can feel your distress. Do you… Do you not want to do this? We can still cancel.”

“No!” You bark in a cracked cry. “It’s not that.”

Astarion crouches down, turning the little vanity stool toward him with ease. Black velvet trousers hang loosely around his waist, but he is otherwise undressed. He places his elegant fingers underneath your chin, gently guiding your gaze up, and thumbs away the tears crawling down your cheeks from the corners of your eyes.

“Tell me what’s troubling you.”

You think about deflecting, lying even, but he will know if you do, so you settle on the truth. “I don’t want to embarrass you, but I don’t know how I will do my hair or makeup since...” You gesture toward the mirror. “I cannot see myself.”

Astarion glances at the mirror, and a forlorn look makes his eyes downturn as he sees his own reflection, but not yours. “Listen carefully, love. You could never embarrass me. If you walked out in a paper bag with your hair a mess, you would still be the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. But I do have a surprise for you.”

Astarion beams, his fangs on full display, and opens the door. “You’re late.”

Your brows furrow, and you try to incline your head to look around the doorframe to see who in the Hells he is talking to when you hear Shadowheart’s voice. “Could you put some clothing on, please? Gods, Astarion. This is not how you should walk around when you’re expecting guests. Where is your decorum?”

He grins roguishly and lopsided, slightly canting his head with a shrug. “My, my. Selûne has turned you into quite the little prude, hasn’t she?”

Shadowheart scoffs, pushing past Astarion while giving him a pointed look. “Get out,” she orders.

Astarion’s brows rise at the direct order, a small spike of anger raising his hackles. You can hear his thoughts. How dare she order him around. He does not take orders from anyone any longer. There is a melody in the background. It sounds like iced rain pelleting through wind-whipped trees.

You nearly jump out of your chair to calm him, but he takes a deep breath, and the twisting thoughts and song fade away into barely a hum. He collects himself almost instantly, adopting his typical easy confidence.

You reach out to him in your head. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t even glance at you, turning away as Shadowheart closes the door, but answers immediately. “I’m fine, my treasure. I will see you soon.”

“Thank you for this.”

“You are most welcome.”

Shadowheart smiles ear to ear, taking quick steps toward you, and you almost recoil. You cannot remember a time where you’ve seen her look so excited. “A certain vampire told me you might need help getting ready.”

“That certain vampire has been incredibly thoughtful lately,” you muse.

“Oddly so,” Shadowheart agrees. “Can I come close? It will be a little hard to do your hair and makeup if you cannot stand to have me near.”

You laugh. “He fed me. You should be safe unless you accidentally cut yourself.”

“Don’t cut myself, or my best friend might eat me… again.” Shadowheart nods with a wry grin. “Noted.”

Shadowheart’s hands hover over the implements, quickly glancing at the mirror that only recognizes her presence. She frowns, runs over and tears the sheets off the bed, and shrouds the traitorous mirror.

She grabs a brush and begins to gently drag it through your hair, working out the knots. “So, how do you want your hair done?”

Your forehead wrinkles as your brows pull down. “Honestly, I didn’t give it much thought. I… just never thought I would be here.”

“You never thought you would get married?” Shadowheart’s brow arches. “Truly?”

“I didn’t think about it much when I was mortal, and then there was the Netherbrain, I became a vampire, and...” You sigh, shutting your eyes against the memories that claw at your limbs and beg you to join them in a basin of despair. “Well, you know what happened then.”

Shadowheart rubs your arm and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you, Shadowheart,” you grin, and the tips of your fangs peek out of your lips just slightly. “Do your worst.”

Shadowheart sets to work, using all the brushes, combs, pins, and ties at her disposal. She twists locks of hair around her finger, pinning them into place.

“I have an odd question.” She breaks the silence. “About your vampirism.”

“Oh? Intriguing. Ask away.”

“How exactly do you feed? Is it like a bite holes and suck on them sort of thing, or are your fangs similar to straws?”

You burst out laughing, and you can hear Astarion howling from the room next to you. Clutching your aching abdomen, partly due to having her so close but mostly due to the blistering laughter that’s making your eyes water, you turn toward her. Shadowheart looks stunned and glances at the wall where Astarion’s laughter can still be heard.

“I mean,” you try to speak between breathy laughs. It’s a blessing you don’t really need air because you would surely be suffocating. “You are welcome to examine my fangs if you would like to check, but it’s a bite and suck thing.”

Shadowheart crosses her arms, a hairbrush still clutched in her hand with her nose sticking up. “It’s not that funny, you two.”

“It’s a little funny,” you tease her.

She huffs but chuckles softly, shaking her head. “That’s the last time I ask you anything about your vampirism,” she taunts with a crooked grin.

Shadowheart grabs a cloth and hands it to you so you can wipe the tears off your cheeks and dry your eyes. She gently tilts your head up and begins to swipe eyeshadow on, but having her so close in front of you, her wrist right under your nose, is starting to eat away at your restraint. You can smell her blood in her veins and hear it gush with each beat of her heart. It sounds like an orchestra to your sharp hearing, and you begin to grimace, digging your fingernails into the stool.

“What is it?” She asks.

With your vampiric speed, you swiftly move to the other end of the room and plaster yourself against the wall. Your lungs thirst for air they don’t require, but you hold your breath.

“I just need a minute,” you say tightly with a thick swallow.

Astarion’s voice drifts into your head. “I can compel you if you wish, but this will be the last time I entertain this.”

There is a keen edge to his timbre. You know it makes him uncomfortable. Even now you can feel his previously calm emotions metamorphose into a tumultuous blitz where you can hardly tell one from the other as they flicker through your mind too quickly to comprehend. You might not feel them or even know what they are, but Astarion feels them all with an intensity you can’t begin to comprehend.

You hate that you don’t possess the self-control and are once again forcing Astarion to do things he’s uncomfortable with, but what choice do you have? No amount of blood will fill the empty hole in your stomach, and you have already slipped and nearly killed Shadowheart.

“I’m sorry, Astarion. Do it. Please.”

His reply is only the command. “You will not feed on thinking creatures. You do not feel hunger.”

“What just happened?” Shadowheart asks.

“Sorry?”

“Your eyes.” She frowns. “They glowed for a moment.”

“Astarion compelled me, and before you worry, I asked him to.”

You take a deep breath of pure relief, ease away from the wall, and back to the stool. She starts doing your makeup again, but you note the lines of worry that crease her forehead and thin her lips.

Shadowheart lowers her voice. “That’s a dangerous game to play, Illyria.”

Though she is whispering, it’s not nearly quiet enough. Astarion will be able to hear her loud and clear. You point to your ear and then to the wall to indicate that he can, in fact, still hear her. Her eyes round, but she nods her understanding. Shadowheart isn’t wrong. You’re playing a dangerous game, but that’s what your life has become, hasn’t it?

Just one dangerous game after another.

“I trust him,” you conclude with conviction.

Shadowheart gives you a quick side look that you know means she’s not quite done talking to you about this, but she will let it go until you find yourselves in a more private setting.

“Look up,” she instructs, and your eyes sail to the ceiling.

You barely feel Shadowheart run the liner along your waterline or use her pinky to smudge it slightly. She holds lipstick after lipstick up to your face before deciding on a colour and handing it to you. At least this, you don’t really need much help with. The colour is a reddish coral that you’re not entirely sure about, but you put it on anyway.

Shadowheart peeks outside, closing the blinds quickly when the sun hits you. She looks horrified for a moment. 

“I’m safe, Shadowheart. Astarion is near. The sun won’t hurt me,” you remind her.

“Sorry. I guess I got used to you.” She halts her speech immediately.

“Being allergic to the sun?” You finish her train of thought for her with a reassuring smile.

“Yes.” Shadowheart quickly goes to the wardrobe where your dress is hanging. “We better get you into this. I think it’s nearly time.”

Pulling the curtains back, you glance outside. The sun is low, spitting fiery reds, burnt oranges, and halcyon pinks into the sky like watercolours across a painters canvas. It is indeed almost time.

You will be married to Astarion within the hour.

You slip out the satin robe, and Shadowheart helps you into your gown. Her breath hitches when she sees the scars on your back, as it does every time, and you have to clench your jaw and shut your eyes against the sensation of her hands rubbing over them while she does up the various buttons and laces.

“Do you know what they mean yet?” She asks softly.

“No.” You shake your head. “Astarion has scoured every book he owns, making several trips to the palace, but he’s not found anything that resembles them yet.”

“They must have some sort of meaning.”

“Yes, but they are unfinished. We can only hope that makes whatever they were meant to do useless.” You shrug. “We can’t know for sure.”

Shadowheart turns you around, steps back, and gives you a once-over. “You look beautiful, Illyria. Truly. You clean up rather well.”

You half laugh, half snort at her comment, but smirk at her jeering. “Really?”

“Really,” she confirms. “Astarion is a lucky man.”

You glance down and look at the dress. The bodice hugs your curves flawlessly; each diamond is pristinely polished and catches the sunlight, filtering it into prismatic hues. For some reason, the seamstress added moonstones to border the swirling pattern of the lace, and the silvery light they emanate gives the appearance of silver-spun stars.

“I should probably get going,” Shadowheart says, picking up her bag.

“No,” you object, reaching out and grabbing her forearm before you have time to think. “I think you should stay if you want to.”

She looks around a little unsure. “Will Astarion be okay with that?”

You don’t doubt he heard your offer, but you ask him anyway. “Can Shadowheart stay?”

“Of course, my love. She’s most welcome to join us.”

“He doesn’t mind.” You assure her and offer an easy smile.

Shadowheart beams, putting down her bag, but then she looks at her clothes with a ruffled brow. “I have nothing to wear. I didn’t bring anything else.”

“You can wear what you’re wearing, but if you would rather wear something else.” You walk over to another wardrobe and open it. It’s filled with various fine silk dresses and opulent gowns to modest trousers and shirts, and even some robes. “You can take your pick.”

She shifts through the dresses until she pulls out a light blue silk dress and looks to you for permission.

“It will look beautiful on you.”

You watch Shadowheart hurry around, slipping into the dress, running a brush through her hair, fixing her makeup, and you cannot help but find entertainment in the hurried scattering. You’ve hardly ever seen Shadowheart act like this. She’s usually composed, calm, and a little bit stolid.

You’ve never felt closer to her than in this moment, and your heart swells with affection but also guilt, because even though you’ve been compelled, there is a small part of your brain that continues to see her as prey.

Did Astarion ever watch you running through the battlefield and be tempted to give chase just like you are now? Is this a vampire thing or something more sinister? You would like to believe that it’s a vampiric instinct. After all, the living are technically the typical fare for your kind.

The other possibility is much more sinister.

“I’ll see you out there?” Shadowheart suddenly asks from the doorway, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Yes. I’ll be right out.”

The quartet has started playing the soft music, signalling that it’s just about time. You shake out your arms, take several deep breaths, and pace for good measure to expel some of your nervous energy.

You hear a groan, the slight moan of hinges on the door, and then a light rapping on yours before Astarion walks in.

“Apologies.” His eyes are downcast, and his fingers curl and uncurl. “I know I said we should not see each other until you walk down the aisle, but...”

“Astarion.” You approach and slip your fingers under his chin. When he will not allow you to guide his eyes upward, you instead lean down and catch his eyes anyway. “It’s fine. Look at me. Tell me what’s wrong. Are you…? Do you need to go?”

“No,” he’s quick to spit out, his eyes finally coming up. “I just… Bloody Hells.”

He fidgets with the cuff of his suit, huffs exasperatedly, and you see the problem. You take his hand carefully, pop the buttons he was struggling with through, and then take the teardrop ruby cufflink from his trembling fingers and secure it.

“Thank you.” He takes a deep breath. “I missed you.”

Your brows pinch. “You were in the next room.”

“I hardly see why that matters.” Astarion leans in, buries his nose in your hair, and inhales deeply, pulling you close. “Every second away from you is agonizing.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I may embellish a little here and there, but I am no liar.” Astarion leans away slightly to look deeply into your eyes. “I really did miss you.”

You kiss his cheek and cup his face with your palm. His hand comes up to cover yours, and he leans into your touch. “You look positively exquisite.”

He takes your hand, forcing you into a small twirl, and you giggle. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“I have an idea,” he taps his temple. “I believe you can see through my eyes using the bond we share.”

The sensation of Astarion removing barriers he’s erected feels much like a dam when it opens its doors to allow water through, and you are hit with everything all at once. It’s overwhelming at first, painful even, but the pain fades as you adjust. He’s not let you into his mind quite like this before. It’s almost unfettered access to every thought, every feeling, and even memories, if you were so inclined.

But this is a sign of trust, and you will not betray it by rifling through his most intimate thoughts, so you focus on seeing through his eyes. If it’s like anything else that has to do with the kinship, your intent should simply translate into being.

You blink, and all of a sudden you’re looking down at yourself. You’re taken aback for a moment. Your body jerks slightly away, and you have to reorient yourself. It’s the first time you’ve been able to actually see yourself since you were turned.

By the Gods. I am terribly pale!

Taking your time, you scour every detail of your face and commit it to memory. How long will it take me to forget again? You look at your cracked scarlet eyes and the colours they were before peeking through in splotches and slivers. You take in your dress, your hair, and your makeup, and tears threaten to spill, but you swallow them back down.

You release his sight back to him, blink, and you’re once again staring at your husband.

“Well?” He asks expectantly.

You lean into his chest, your palms flat against him. “Thank you.”

His arms encircle you once more. “You’re welcome. I suppose I should get out there. I will see you soon, yes?”

You nod, releasing him. “I’ll be right behind you.”

You stand in the inner foyer, waiting for your music to start. There are roses everywhere, of every shade, and they fill the air with a sweet scent. You’d peeked earlier and seen the arch being set up. Well, it’s less of an arch and more of a circle, which you decided was more appropriate — circles are never-ending, eternal.

Shadowheart scampers in to see you pacing around in a circle, and she grabs your arms. “Deep breaths, Illyria.”

You snort. “I am dead. I don’t need to breathe.”

She snorts in reply. “Don’t be sassy. Deep breathes, and stand still! You’ve made a mess of your train.”

She crouches down, quickly spreading the delicate lace back out so that it flows as it should instead of being all twisted up. You take the deep breaths, though they do little to calm your nerves.

Shadowheart clasps her hands around your arms. “Don’t pace, or you’ll wreck it. Your music is about to start.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to make sure, but you ask anyway. “Is he?”

Shadowheart nods. “He’s out there waiting for you.”

You can only muster enough presence of mind to nod, and Shadowheart dashes back out to take her place wherever that is. The music starts to pick up, and you stand there for a few nerve-wracking minutes until it shifts into your song.

It’s time.

Steeling your nerves, you take one last deep, useless breath and walk toward the open doorway.

The sun strikes your eyes first and leaves you blinded until your eyes adjust. As your vision clears, the aisle comes into view. Rose petals are scattered across the terrace, the circular archway has been hung with sheer drapery that sways in the slight breeze, and the quartet plays beautifully off to the side as well as an artist sketching away that you were not expecting.

Astarion stands with his hands clasped together behind his back, his face warmly neutral until he sees you, and it transforms into a tender, nervous smile. Your eyes link with familiar, vividly crimson pools that invite you to get lost in them. Time seems to halt its perpetual march forward, the gears grinding to a stop just for you.

All your uncertainty, worries, and problems seem to just slip away from you. None of them matter. Not that the Hells await. Not that you still have yet to tell Astarion about the deal you made. Not that time is running out. It’s like all of that ceases to exist, and you are left with the only thing that does matter.

Him.

Your mind barely registered the drag of your dress, or the breeze in your hair, or the way the sun warms your skin. You take one step, and then another, and then another, carefully so as not to trip. Walking in heels isn’t exactly something you’re accustomed to, and it’s been brought to your attention that you’re a “clumsy thing,” as Astarion so lovingly puts it.

With each step, Astarion’s smile widens, and you’re brought closer to him. His eyes are wide and shiny, unshed tears catching the dying light of the sun. Memories play out in your mind’s eye — strong arms around you and a shoulder to lean on when you were so tired after battle you could barely walk back to camp. Nights spent laughing in the shelter of your tent. Cuddling by a roaring campfire. The soft press of lips to your forehead as you faded into your trance. The aroma of bergamot, rosemary, and brandy — the scent of home. You can hear the gravelly sound of his voice when you sought him out, always first to hear his thoughts, quips, witty remarks, and even those godsdamned roguish insults.

You blink, and the tears begin to fall, gliding down your cheeks. A few more steps and you’re in front of him — your fate, your destiny, your thiramin.

The only thing that has ever truly mattered to you and likely the only thing that ever will.

Yours. Once lost, but brought back together by the threads of fate.

His smile fades, replaced by a gaze that is equal parts affection and limitless devotion. Astarion takes a step closer, swallowing hard, and holds his hands out to you. You place your hands in his.

You stand side by side as the priest of one god or another recites the rites. The words are mostly lost on you, just a garbled sound in the background of the drumming beat of Astarion’s heart.

You try to keep your eyes ahead, but you cannot help but sneak little glances his way. His silver hair, perfectly styled with not a strand out of place, is cast in a golden glow that makes him look otherworldly. His raven-black ensemble with dragons up the breast is perfectly smoothed—not a crease or crimp to be seen.

Perfection. Exactly like you had envisioned.

Keeping your eyes ahead, you reach out, and Astarion responds, slipping his trembling hand into yours. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze. His lips quirk up slightly, crinkling the corners of his eyes, but he keeps his gaze trained ahead.

“Lord Astarion Ancunín, do you take this woman to be your wedded wife?”

He turns toward you. His eyes are round, wet, and painfully striking in their vivid warmth. He grins, his eyes falling to your clasped hands, and then back to you. “I do.”

Shadowheart approaches with a velvet-wrapped box, opening the lid and offering it to Astarion. He thanks her, to your great surprise, and takes the ring out. The band is delicately twisted silver and black. You faintly see an inscription running around the underside of the band, but your eyes are too misty to read it.

“I didn’t prepare a fancy speech or elaborate vows. I thought it better to speak from the heart. I am admittedly not good at this, feelings, or public declarations of love.” He fidgets with the ring. “I had long had any faith in people, in Gods, in life purposefully carved out of me when you came along. Truthfully, I wasn’t very fond of you at first. I’d lost the ability to care for anyone, and I certainly never expected anyone could care for me. You met my ice with your fire at every turn. When I tried to push you away, you were still there waiting for me to come to my senses.

“You treated me like a person right from the very start, trusted me, which honestly was an objectively stupid thing to do, darling. I grew to love you frighteningly quickly. You melted the ice in my heart and taught me how to love again. I cherished every second we spent together, even when it was curling up and sleeping in the dirt.

You see me. Really, truly see me even through my darkness. I am safe with you. Whatever the future holds for us, I do not intend to lose that. I vow to love you with a depth that not even the stars can fathom. When it gets cold, I will be your warmth. When life is too loud, you can bury yourself in my silence. When you are hungry, I will be your sustenance.” You exhale a small laugh, and he smirks and winks. “I will love you long after the last stars have faded from the sky and the world is bathed in darkness once more. I will always love you.”

Astarion takes your hand, slipping the ring onto your finger easily. His voice cracks with emotion. “Ai armiel telere maenen hir.”

He clears his throat and straightens up, discreetly wiping a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand.

The same question is levelled at you next, and Astarion seems to be tense as he awaits your response.

“I do.”

As soon as he hears you utter the words, he exhales in a lengthy, drawn-out release like he’d been holding his breath the entire time, and his shoulders relax.

Shadowheart seems to pop up at your side, nearly enough to make you jump, bringing your focus back. You take the ring, and your fingers glide over the smooth metal, feeling the etching inside of it. Astarion’s eyes jump down to the ring, and he looks at it hungrily.

“I never had a family. There was never anyone to tuck me in or kiss me goodnight. I was alone for most of my life, and at some point, I guess I started to believe that’s how it would always be. I accepted it. I wasn’t supposed to be in Baldur's Gate the day the nautiloid took us. I had only stopped there to get supplies and had planned to leave the same day, but then something made me stay. I cannot even recall what it was anymore. It scares me to think that if I had left like I planned to, I would never have found you. Despite the threat of turning into a tentacled monster, I’m glad we were taken that day, as strange as it sounds. It brought us together.”

Your brows pinch. “I’ve never been one who put much faith or thought into Gods and fates. I never gave any credence to destiny. To be perfectly honest, I thought it was all bullshit. But now I stand here with you, and I can’t help but feel this was meant to be — that our meeting wasn’t mere chance. When I met you on that beach, before our shared plight connected us, it felt like my soul recognized yours. I saw a home that I had been homesick for all my life in your eyes, even with your dagger pressed against my throat.”

Astarion chuckles lightly, and you look up at him. He gives you an encouraging nod. “There are no words that adequately express how much I love you. I could say the cliche things like I love you more than life itself, which I think is rather obvious at this point. The truth is, my love for you is unfathomable, unquantifiable. There are no lengths I would not go for you. I vow to love you eternally. Know you are cherished, cared for, safe, and seen, always. I will be your sanctuary. Allow me to be the place your heart finds shelter and peace. I vow to be your light in the darkness, and I will always bring you home. For as long as we exist, I am yours.”

You grab Astarion’s hand, and he holds it up for you, trying to keep his quivering fingers still enough so you can slip the ring on. He smiles, though it looks a little odd, warring between nervousness and excitement, with neither side winning. Tears sway on his lashes, and wet trails glisten down his cheeks.

The ring slides on his finger with no resistance, sitting perfectly as if it were always meant to be there.

Astarion doesn’t wait for the priest to acknowledge it. You vaguely hear being pronounced husband and wife, but the rest is lost when Astarion instantly wraps you in his arms, tugging you close and catching your lips. You lean into the kiss, into him, desperately trying to press your bodies closer together. His tongue teases your bottom lip, and you open for him. The approving groan rumbles deep in his chest, and you visibly shiver as electricity seems to run down your spine.

You very nearly whine out loud when he pulls away, but catch yourself quickly. He keeps his arms wrapped safely around you while he thanks the priest for his services and dismisses him.

Shadowheart runs up. Her makeup is smudged down her face. “I never thought I would say this, but Gods, I am so happy for the both of you.”

Astarion shoots her a pointed look with an arched brow.

“Yes, even you, Astarion,” Shadowheart half teases, half reassures him. “Thank you for letting me stay. It was beautiful.”

He still does not know exactly how to take Shadowheart’s genuine gratitude. “You’re, uh, welcome?” It sounds like a question. “We are planning to stay here for the night. If my wife has no objections, you’re welcome to stay and join us for some wine—”

The thought is abruptly cut off when you and Astarion hear a commotion, a clattering of boots running up stairs. Both of your heads swivel towards the sound.

Shadowheart cannot hear it and arches a brow, but follows your gaze. “What is it?”

“We’re not sure,” you answer, and go to move forward, but Astarion pulls you back.

“It’s the wizard,” he snarls, teeth bared.

There is no time to react to what he’s said before the villa door bursts open, and Gale comes running in red-faced and huffing. He’s wearing his robe, with his quarterstaff slung across his back, and you instantly tense.

How in the hells did he find you?

“Illyria!” Gale shouts, sprinting onto the terrace. “Don’t do this! You can’t marry him!”

“Gods, Gale,” you growl, but your panic is increasing. If something is going to set Astarion off, it will be this. “Give it a rest. There will never be anything between us. I love him. I want to marry him. I did marry him. It’s done.”

You know it’s harsh, but it needs to be said. Whatever ideas Gale has gotten into his head need to be ceased.

“You don’t understand!” Gale points accusingly at Astarion. “He’s compelled you. He’s poisoned your loyalty. None of this has been your choice.”

“You did this!” Astarion grabs Shadowheart’s dress, heaving her forward roughly. “You led him here!”

“No!” Shadowheart tugs at Astarion’s wrist, but you know she has no hope against his strength. “I would not do this, Astarion. I swear on Selûne. This is not my doing!”

“Astarion.” You grab his wrist, squeezing with enough force that if he were mortal, you could have broken it. “Shadowheart wouldn’t do this. Let her go. Please.”

He shakes violently as his grasp on Shadowheart loosens and tightens until he finally manages to pry his hand away. His eyes flash so quickly you cannot make out which is which from one second to the next. Astarion notices the rising panic in your expression.

“I’m trying,” he grits out with a pained desperation in his voice.

You turn toward Gale with your brows pinched, magic swelling. “He has not compelled me, Gale! I’m here because I want to be here. I am with him because I love him. Why can’t you accept that?”

Gale straightens. “I can prove it.”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things.

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

This is the longest chapter yet in this series! You can consider it my apology for the last chapter, which was short 🤣

Oh, Gale.... But, could he really be speaking the truth? Has everything been a lie?

[elains]

❧ Summary: The way Elain and Lucien discovered their mating bond was perhaps not ideal, and the road towards falling in love and accepting their feelings full of thorns — but throughout challenges and adversity, they have made it work. Now, eternity awaits them.

A series of connected ficlets for Elucien Week 2023, set post the end of the series when all villains are gone, following episodes of Elain and Lucien's sometimes quiet, sometimes agitated, life together.

✾ chapter 1  — mates

For @elucienweekofficial

Read on Ao3!

Their mating ceremony would happen on the Feast of the Risen Sun, the most sacred of the Day Court holidays when the power of its High Lord was at its peak. It would be a grand, public affair to be witnessed by friends, family, the court, and the people. All lords of Prythian and countless foreign authorities were invited to attend months beforehand. 

Nesta and Feyre might have preferred simpler, quieter mating ceremonies for their family and close friends alone, if any at all. Elain was different: she had always dreamed of a Princess’ wedding, and Helion was all too willing to indulge her.

It wasn’t a purposeless waste of gold and resources, either: Lucien had been born outside of wedlock and raised beneath the coppery leaves of the Autumn Court, far away from the Day Court, its traditions, and culture. A mating ceremony as grand as this would help cement Lucien as the Prince of the Day Court and their future High Lord in the eyes of the nobility and the people.

Elain brought a hand to her mouth, lush pink lips lifting as she remembered how Lucien had tried — unsuccessfully — to talk her and his mother out of such a huge celebration.

“Are you sure you wish for such a grand ceremony, love?” Lucien asked, eyeing the array of fabrics displayed on the mahogany table. “You don’t need to do this for me, you know.”

Elain snorted, not bothering to look at him. “Were I doing this for you, you wouldn't be so recalcitrant about everything.” She inspected a piece of gold damask embroidered with vines and sun motifs and handed it to Phoebe. “I think this one would go well with the copper gossamer we picked earlier.”

Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mother, please —”

“Do be quiet, dear,” his mother said cheerily, taking the fabric from Elain's hand and nodding approvingly. “It's better this way. Why don't you go ask your father about the statues and help him there, hm?”

“Statues?” He stared between them, mouth hanging open. “That wasn't in the original plan.”

“Neither was distributing gold bars to the citizens as small gifts, but you don't plan the mating ceremony of the millennium by skimping on the details.”

Lucien muttered something that sounded like I give up, extracting a peal of laughter from his mother and mate. 

The two females him go with twin smiles of fondness etched on their faces. 

“He doesn’t think he deserves any of this, does he?” Elain whispered, tightening her grasp on her dress. “The extravagance, the big mating ceremony — after all we've been through, he still thinks he's not good enough.”

“And he won't. Not for a while, at least. Such deep wounds take time to heal. But he's getting better every day. He has me, his father, and even Eris. He has you, too.”

“I wish there was more I could do. If only I could... I don't know. Help more.”

Phoebe smiled and got up, collecting Elain's hand within her own and giving them a tight squeeze.

“You already do enough, sweet girl. You are here, and you will help him through the worst, just as he will help you — my son isn't the only one with scars that need time to heal, is he now?”

Elain chuckled, a tear gathering at the corner of her eyes. “No,” she said, “he isn’t.”

She had come a long way in learning to be more assertive since the quest to defeat Koschei, the trials she had faced forcing her to come out of her shell and face her problems head-on. Lucien didn’t allow her to retreat and ignore the mounting problems either, dragging her out of her cocoon of security if demanded. 

“And that is the beauty of the mating bond. You have someone who understands you to your core, and you, him. He will help you grow as you will help him. Hand in hand, side by side, to help you up when you stumble and give you a push forward when required. It's work, as all relationships are, but it's not a burden to be placed solely on you or him. You carry it together. And if either of you starts slipping, you stop, reassess, and ask for help.”

“Has Lucien ever told you about my mother?”

“Very superficially, I'm afraid,” Phoebe said, shaking her head.

“She was arrogant, petty, and cruel. She only loved me and my sisters in so far as we were an extension of herself she could parade and brag about to her friends. Her name meant love, but I don't think she had any love left in her to give to anyone but herself.” Elain swallowed a sob, a tear sliding down her cheek. More than a decade after her death, the ghost of Carys Archeron still cast a long shadow. “You are nothing like her, my lady. You never became cruel, no matter how thoroughly the world tried to break you. l… would be honored if you allowed me to call you mother, Lady Phoebe.”

“Oh, Elain.” Lady Phoebe stood and enveloped Elain in her arms. “You already are my daughter in my heart.” 

They stayed like that for a while, until one of the handmaids arrived in a rush to announce that the tailor they had invited to create the ceremony's dress had arrived from Xian. She was an old friend of Nuan, famed for her ability to weave magic into cloth, and the favorite seamstress at the employ of the Golden Empress of Xian. 

And here Elain was months after that day, wrapped in the dress of her dreams. Its design mixed the traditional human styles with day court ones, woven from white silk and pale pink and yellow gossamer. Gold filigree covered her shoulders; a chain of gold, diamonds, and topazes hung on her neck. The skin of her back lay partially exposed, gold chains encrusted in diamonds obscured her skin from view.

Her golden-brown hair had been curled and pulled up in buns and braids, decorated with gold rings and a massive headdress that she couldn’t wait to get rid of. Phoebe had explained the weight was on purpose, to remind the Ladies of the Day Court of their heavy burden.

After her handmaids were done with her dress, her makeup, and her accessories, Elain was allowed a moment to herself in the dressing room to collect her thoughts and relax — or as much as it was possible to relax in these circumstances. 

She had sat in a similar room a lifetime ago, fitting dresses and fabrics for her wedding to Graysen. She had been happy then, eager to leave behind her father’s house and make a home of her own, a place she could call hers and where the shadow of her sisters and her mother wasn't as thick. Her plans for the future had crumbled to the dust of hope when she and Nesta were kidnapped and turned into fae.

She had died that day in Hybern, all traces of her humanity scrubbed clean as she succumbed to the black waters of creation. Feyre and the others liked to say that the Cauldron loved her and had, therefore, showered her in gifts, but Elain hadn’t felt particularly blessed or gifted. The Cauldron had trampled on her wishes, given her things she did not ask or want, and taken everything else. It was powerful and as most powerful things with near absolute power, selfish.

In the aftermath, Elain had mourned her human life, resented the mate she became keenly aware existed, and the very being she always had feared and had been turned into. For months, complete oblivion seemed kinder than to continue to live and breathe.

And yet, if Feyre had never killed the wolf, if Elain hadn’t been dragged to Hybern, she wouldn’t be here now. Her sisters likely never would have met their mates; Nyx wouldn’t exist. Elain would never have met Vassa, Nuala and Ceridwen, Jurian, Nuan, or Lady Phoebe. There would be no vision of her and Lucien in the far future, old even by fae standards and surrounded by children and grandchildren, light and happy. 

There would be no future Princess of the Day Court smiling back from the mirror, brimming with light and joy, with gold dust splattered across her nose and cheeks. 

Elain Archeron had died, but Elain Archeron had also lived, happier than she had ever remembered being.

The door swung open and her sisters strode in. Feyre was clad in pale, shimmering blue, crowned in starlight, truly the Stars Eternal. Nesta wore the silver and blue uniforms the Valkyrie generals adopted for celebrations. They were Elain's sisters, but they were also the High Lady of the Night Court and the General of the Valkyries. 

“Oh, look at you!” Feyre squealed, coming to stand at her side. She had left Nyx with Mor and the rest of the Inner Circle. “I had seen the drafts you sent to Velaris, but seeing it in person and how they complement your beauty and jewelry — you look like a queen, Elain.”

“Thank you,” she answered with a giggle. “Madam Haolan thinks it is one of her finest works.”

“Isn’t that headdress a bit heavy, though?” Nesta came to stand in front of her, placing her hands on her waist. 

“Terribly,” Elain admitted, “I can hardly wait to get rid of it for the reception. Did I tell you I’m going to change dresses for it? The next gown will have sun lilies woven into it that —”

“That you bred and planted yourself and that will shine with sunlight. Yes, we know.” Nesta rolled her eyes, exasperated. “You showed it to us last time we were here, when they had yet to bloom. You wrote to us about them too. Multiple times.”

“Well, then.” Elain sniffled haughtily, lifting her nose into the air. “You will get to see them soon. They’re my masterpiece, if I may say so.”

Nesta seemed like she wanted to say something, but Feyre cut in, placing a hand on Elain’s shoulder.

“Far be it from us to go against the bride on her mating ceremony —”

“Good, else I might have you both thrown out of here until it's time to leave.”

Feyre ignored her. “— but we need to ask: is this truly what you want?”

Elain blinked once, then twice, shoulders going slack. She looked at Feyre, wide-eyed and gaping, then at Nesta, who nodded somberly in agreement.

“You are both aware that this is merely the formal ceremony, aren’t you? She said slowly, pointing to the fully decorated city outside. “That I’m already mated to Lucien in all ways that matter, right?”

“We know,” Nesta said, “but regardless. If this ceremony is too much, if it’s too big for you —”

“This is the ceremony I wanted,” Elain snapped, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “It was I who insisted on a grand event. The dress, the food, the flowers, everything — I spent hours, days, months even, painstakingly working on all of it. So why in the world would I not be fine with it?”

“It’s just —” Feyre hesitated, bit her lip, and continued, “You have always tried to please everyone. Even when you disliked it, you kept quiet. We want to ensure you are fine with what is happening, Elain. That is all.”

“Your concern is touching,” she replied without meaning, grinding her teeth. “But it's also unwarranted and patronizing. Must we have this conversation again today of all days?”

“We don’t mean it this way.” Nesta insisted, taking Elain’s hand. “We just want you to know that we are here for you and will support you in whatever you want to do, even if it is leaving Lucien at the altar to run off with Azriel.”

Elain gagged, horrified. “You did not just say this.”

“You did have a crush on him.” Her older sister smirked, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. 

“Everyone makes mistakes and foolish decisions they regret.” Elain squared her shoulders, crossing her arms. “I don't need you to remind me of mine”

Nesta barked out a laugh, Feyre soon joining in. Elain glanced between her sisters, taken aback by their mirth and giddiness, and soon found her mouth twisting into a smile, her shoulders shaking and shaking until she, too, was roaring with laughter.

When they had quieted, Feyre left Elain’s side to stand beside Nesta, each offering her a hand. In her dreams, it was her father who walked her down the aisle, but her father was no longer here, nor was her mother, and it hadn’t felt right to ask Rhysand or Cassian to step into his place.

But she could ask her sister, her family. Her father lived on through all three of them, after all. 

With a brilliant grin, Elain took their hands and rose. 

༻ ❁ ༺

Elain had never seen so many people gathered together.

A crowd of thousands lined the cobblestone streets of the City of Haemera, females and males and children waving olive tree branches and tiger lilies. They cheered her name with huge smiles, clapping excitedly as her chariot passed by, pulled by two pegasus. An honor guard that consisted of Day and Night Court soldiers and her brothers-in-law followed behind.

A basket lay on the crook of her elbow, and she distributed flowers and branches and gold to the populace. Her heart hammered in her chest as the Temple drew closer, her hands shaking with nervous excitement.

She reached for the cord on her rib tying her to her mate, clutching it tightly, almost not believing she was here, after all this time. From the other side of the bond, Lucien responded, as nervous as she was, but full of love and warmth. 

The chariot stopped by the great steps of the Temple. Feyre and Nesta were already at the foot of the stairs, waiting.

Rhysand helped her down, placing a kiss on her cheek and wishing her good luck. Cassian, for his part, clapped her on the back and muttered that Lucien was a lucky male to wed her.

“He is,” she agreed, “and I am a lucky female to have him.”

Her sisters lifted her veil from the ground, a translucent fabric shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow under the bright solstice sun. Taking a deep breath, she took a step up the stairs, the cheers drowning out her thundering heartbeat. 

Elain held onto the gold thread connecting her to Lucien more tightly, using it to ground herself. She hardly remembered to greet the guests that had come to see their ceremony, but she didn’t think they expected her to. It was clear to all that there was only one thing in her mind.

They reached the top of the stairs, the huge columns of the Temple hanging high above, holding up a façade sculpted with the great, legendary myths of the Day Court.

Beneath it, there was a young Priestess in her gown, ready to officiate the ceremony. There was Vassa, her maid of honor, triumphant in her iron crown and her gown of flames. There was Morrigan and little Nyx, who brightened up at the sight of his aunt and started to wave enthusiastically. There was Helion and Phoebe, arm in arm, all fire and sun and warmth and mist-eyed emotion as their son had the ceremony they never could. 

And there was Lucien, staring at her as if it were the first time, the well-fitted white toga revealing his muscled chest, dusted with gold. His arm was decorated with gold bracelets and the sunburst crown he wore was haloed in sunfire, shining with power. His smile was so joyous and so radiant it could eclipse even the blazing sun.

He looked at her as if she was the only thing that mattered in the entire world, and Elain fell in love all over again.

Without taking her eyes away from him, like a woman in a dream, she took the first step towards her mate and their piece of forever. 

[rootedwater]

Understanding King Magnifico

Spoilers

He is a villain. A great villain. An irredeemable villain.

We met him and he keeps his cool until after his song. His subject had stopped paying attention to him. He became, somewhat reasonably, annoyed that she hadn’t even been officially hired before asking a favor but maybe don’t have your kingdom structured to have that happen maybe. Then he, likely already looking for a reason to deny her, told her the wish was too dangerous. This plays into a bit earlier where they bonded over past loss. He clearly has some trauma from this, but the movie has no desire to justify him with this.

Confusing most audiences.

His first cruel act mirrors a greater moment of villainy later when he crushes her mother’s dream with his newly acquired dark power. At the first wish ceremony of the film he goes out of his way to crush both Asha and her grandpa’s hope because she dared challenge him.

This is a dick move. And his wife clearly follows him after to scold him for such a misuse of power.

She really had been the only thing keeping him off the deep end.

We see him triggered once again at the light of Star. Anything he doesn’t directly control freaks him out to the point of complete paranoid breakdown. He almost uses his cured book her, but his wife manages to calm him for now.

But as soon as more of his people start questioning him he spirals the rest of the way. His song ‘this is the thanks I get’ he is clearly trying to calm down by hyping himself up, and let me just say the storyboarding of the moment he sees the book and steps past the point of no return was excellent, so so smooth. Anyway. This fails and he descends into full on villainy.

We see his magic corrupted in the second wish ceremony where he clearly truly controls Simón to the point he snitches on the rest of his friends then.

The movie takes the hard stance that one act of such villainy is enough. He can’t be saved, no matter how much his queen wishes for it to be so. So much so that she puts herself and Dahlia in danger of the book themselves to search for a solution. But he has already used its power.

He cleverly bests the hero’s plan, and brutally takes Star and his power for his own, brutally throws Asha around, and locks down each of his individual subjects with his dark power. Then starts blasting at then when they still oppose him.

Once defeated he shows no remorse, only asking sympathy for himself and his terrible fate, but even his queen has lost the love she held for the man he once was or at least seemed to be. He is left in the dungeon to reflect for all eternity on what he has done, and whines like a brat at his comeuppance.

He was well written and amazingly entertaining. One of the highlights.

While I feel sorry for him, truly he was irredeemable, as he had no interest at any point in being better. Tragically he lost control on his quest for it. A cautionary tale.

A great return to form for classic Disney villains, while keeping a modern flare.

[youthmustfight]

"Order up." Benji chuckles a bit to himself, ringing the bell prematurely. He shrugs to himself before looking around in the clearing of the woods where the son of Hebe had brought himself to. Along with the bell, Benji sets down the items he had brought with him. The son of Hebe had trouble finding a place where he felt comfortable enough to hold the ceremony and preform the ritual. Even his own cabin, while yes belonging to him, didn't feel like it was truly his home. What he knew from this timeline's Benji, didn't allow for him to rest easily either. It made him wonder if his karmic debt would somehow effect him in this ritual as well.

Most of the items joining the son of Hebe were in a box. Though he was sure he could have done without a couple things, but Benji thought probably better safe than sorry. He sets down the box for a moment onto a knoll of grass beside him, pulling out a folded up blanket. Taking a pair of corners, Benji shakes the blanket to nicely float and spread the blanket across the forest floor. Once laid flat, Benji brings the box with him to sit on top of the blanket. He blinks as he sees the blotches of dirt along the bottom of the box once he sets it down on the blanket. And with that, Benji decides to begin the ritual.

*"Divine Song within my veins, Hear my call beyond the planes.

He rings the bell lightly into the cool crisp air of the forest. Benji holds onto the bell as he begins to feel a soft breeze against his skin. His eyes look at the bell in curiosity, perhaps a trick of the light or the jet lag from his previous couple of quests. Benji could have sworn there was a bit of push back against his hand and the bell. There were loud choruses of crickets as the son of Hebe began to recite the next piece of the spell work.

I pronounce my intentions to thee, Appear for me now and equals we shall be.

He rings the bell once more, his attention refocusing on the items in the box. His free hand reaches inside and pulls out a laminated menu from a diner. He was surprised to find it when he had first moved back into the Hebe cabin. It had only ever appeared once in his past and even then, Benji wasn't as confident to talk the server that had given him the menu, let alone take it as a keepsake. A soft smile is brought out from the son of Hebe as he places the menu onto the blanket. As he does so, Benji feels that push on his hand again. Benji simply eyes the bells curiously once more. There's a slow and gradual blinking of many lanternflies around the godling as Benji continues on with the next piece of the ritual.

Not master and servant, nor collar or chain. But partner to partner, equals in name.

The bell rings again, but without the use of Benji's hand. Seems like whatever pushed onto Benji's hand wanted to ring the bell as well, apparently the promise of being equals exciting the entity. Benji returns his attention to the box, bringing out a black hoodie he had found in the Hebe cabin. Losing it in his timeline, Benji was more than excited to find his frog prince hoodie. The hood even had golden accents to mimic a crown as well. This new timeline, as confusing as it was, Benji did appreciate finding what he's lost before had come back to him. He'll admit to it being a an unconventional.

I call you forth, and bind together, An eternal bond that lasts forever."

The bell rings once more, the unseen weight joining Benji's hand as the son of Hebe welcomed whatever had ran the bell with him. The breeze had picked up around him and wherever the son of Hebe tried to catch a glimpse of the creature, the lanternflies were persistent in blocking his sight. Using his hearing the gauge the size and stature of the creature wouldn't do either, the chirping of the crickets seemed to have boosted in volume, drowning out any sound for the son of Hebe. The weight on Benji's hand had continued to be maneuvered oddly, ringing the bell until it stopped. Silence. Darkness. Both surrounded the son of Hebe until he could parse out the features in front of him, the creature in front of him…

[scarletooyoroi]

Alright! I did enough head mulling and pondering in order to get the particular vein of my blog underway. This interp of Thoma will be taking a canon divergent route of the events involving Inazuma's Archon Quest.

The emphasis I wish to drive home is the extension of story that such a life changing event in Thoma's life would behold. Casting your spear as an Inazuman towards the symbol of magnanimity known as the Raiden Shogun is within the same ballpark as spitting upon the pride and glories felt by Inazuma as a whole.

In short. Due to his actions of defying the 100th Vision ceremony and fighting for the life of an outlander who risked their neck for him, within this period he'd be hailed as a nationwide outlaw for his transgressions.

This plays upon the events of ACT I: The Immovable God and the Eternal Euthymia

And ACT II: Stillness. The Sublimation of Shadow.

____

By allowing his spear to carve the currents of a cruel fate, his life was sealed. Thoma was well aware of the gravity of his actions. Of the endless eyes that hailed the Almighty Narukami Ogosho and her everlasting reign.

Yet. This did not matter. For the life who found his ambitions worthy enough to be defied would be a soul he'd genuinely fight alongside of to any bitter end.

BRAVERY burned in ways that howled a level of purpose that found itself awakening. Ascending as the encroaching darkness could no longer be held back by stagnating circumstances.

No matter the reason however, to cast your weapon with the emboldened sense of lethal intent towards Inazuma's Raiden Shogun is to cosign yourself to becoming an enemy of the Land of Electro itself. That was no duel being made by codes of honor, it had been a genuine attempt upon her life to save another.

This vastly increased the sheer scale of enemies he'd have against his ambition and and glimmering edges. Old foes, the entire Tenryou Commission, to an endless myriad of Shogunate loyalist, bounty hunters and Fatui, who also held the wishes of gaining better favor.

Thoma accepted the risk of transforming his head into a valuable prize. This is his journey of accepting a new dimension of action in order to carve a path to a brighter future.

____

So rather than spiel a big story. I feel like for this interp, it'd be better to simply highlight some bullets of importance in how this differs. The primary aspect being that he's not HIDING in some xyz unknown area. Thoma's personal values wouldn't attest for that, nor would the hellish scale of unrest even make the city a faint glimmer of a good idea to be stashed away. Upon this path he'd come to join the Watatsumi resistance against the instated Vision Hunts and Sakoku Decrees which would follow to the events of the Tenshukaku showdown with the others.

Differences however would be this!

+ In lieu of his actions. Despite the Kamisato Clan's recent heads holding such a close bond to him, Thoma is exiled and placed upon the Bounty list in order to keep up their good graces.

+ Within this line of events. Thoma would be heavily tested and often, if always spotted in the wilds. Becoming such a popular target means that many skilled beings will come after his head, which demands explosive growth.

+ His goals outside of reaching Watatsumi would be providing key discoveries. Secrets such as what made the Shogun change so rapidly from the legends made of a gentle god, to such a callously negligent one.

This in turn would be where Thoma, the Traveler and the Resistance gaining the full truth of Shogun's secrets and extended grief.

+ His path would heavily come to involve the land itself, the will of the Sacred Sakura helping him and others being a guide of sorts to find proper paths in unearthing the root of this chaos.

+ To join in the great battle to not only carve an opening back to Inazuma once prepared and rallied, but to help crack open the secrets of helping the Traveler reach the Plane of Euthymia once again.

This part would come involve the old Youkai spirits of the land. They would be the golden grail in unearthing not only the secrets, but to learn of the unrest that these five centuries of grief filled silence effected them as well, the unrest sweeping to parties.

+ A personal story of Thoma fortifying his resolve amidst these conditions. Brave as he been, the daunting truth of his reality only hits when he has a potential out by the help of the Crux crew who had their services bought by the resistance. He comes to steel and temper himself upon the decision that this is his fight alongside all the others, it has to be seen to the end.

+ An expansion upon the in game events and the difficulties of fighting within this war at large.

+ A tale of re-establishing his position within Inazuma and at large, winning back the muddied respect in a new refined form, despite his intentions of keeping his amiable position. It would no longer be a secret of Thoma's expertise as made in the hangout event, thus he'd come to embrace the new weights in his life seriously.

This is the brain stormed hindsight that I have in mind. It will be implemented in my pinned post as I intend to better explore that story that mhy spaghetti'd in the beginning.

[miumiumandoodz]

ceremony of eternal bonding introductory quest

[shrigaurishankarmandir]

Mandir For Marriage- What Spiritual Factors To Keep In Mind?

“ युवयोः वैवाहिकजीवने सर्वदा शुभं भवतु। ”

“May your marriage life be happy”

Marriage is a celebration of love, a timeless force that unites two souls under the blessings of divine beings. Despite the modern shift towards registered marriages, a Hindu wedding finds its true essence in sacred rituals like the saat pheras. Beyond paperwork, these rituals embody the essence of a sacred union. If you seek to fortify the bond between two souls and families through sacred wedding mantras, the welcoming doors of Shri Gauri Shankar Mandir in Brampton for your marriage await you.

We all desire a wedding day filled with joy and significance. Finding the right mandir for your marriage can be a bit challenging, especially in a foreign land. In today’s blog, let's guide you on what factors to keep in mind when opting for mandir for marriage. 

What sets mandir for marriage apart and makes them special?

A mandir for marriage offers numerous advantages, enveloping the ceremony in the simplicity of Sanatan Dharma principles and instilling sacredness into the lives of the newlyweds. Commencing a new phase of life in alignment with divine laws is a unique blessing, reserved for the fortunate few. 

The mandir, as the abode of the spiritual supreme being, exudes a calm and mystical aura, providing an ideal commencement for this exciting and sacred journey. Especially when away from the homeland, a marriage in mandir becomes the perfect set to unite the entire community in holy communion, and foster a sense of togetherness and shared spirituality.

Elevate Your Mandir for Marriage Experience: Ten Spiritual Factors to Consider

Step into a sacred journey where we explore the essential spiritual aspects of a temple wedding. 

Positive vibes to blending a tradition into modernity, each element adds a special touch to create your marriage filled with blessings and eternal love.

1. Harness Positive Energies: 

Within the sanctum of a Mandir, the energies are purified and charged with positive vibrations. Your marital vows resonate in an environment that fosters spiritual harmony, setting the stage for a journey filled with love, understanding, and shared growth. The Mandir becomes a reservoir of good energy, ensuring a positive start to your life together.

2. Astrological Considerations:

Delve into the cosmic side of marriage by incorporating astrological elements. Consult an astrologer to align your wedding date and time with favourable celestial configurations. This not only adds a celestial touch to your union but also ensures that the cosmic energies are working in your favour.

3. Customization for Spiritual Aesthetics:

Transforming a Mandir into a personalized haven involves more than just floral arrangements. Consider incorporating spiritual symbols, colours, and rituals that hold personal significance. This customization ensures that every aspect of your wedding is a reflection of your shared spiritual journey.

4. Seeking Blessings from Deities:

A Mandir for marriage is a conduit to divine blessings. Engage in rituals that seek the blessings of specific deities associated with love, harmony, and marital bliss. This not only adds a spiritual layer to your wedding but also establishes a connection with timeless traditions.

5. Saat Pheras and Ritual Spaces:

Ensure that the mandir provides dedicated spaces for essential marriage rituals, including the saat pheras. A well-organized ritual area contributes to the authenticity and spiritual essence of the ceremony.

6. Balancing Tradition and Modernity:

In the quest for spiritual depth, find the delicate balance between traditional rituals and modern sensibilities. Merge the timeless beauty of sacred ceremonies with the practical aspects of a contemporary wedding, creating an experience that resonates with both the past and the present.

7. The Power of Intention:

Infuse your marriage ceremony with the power of intention. Speak your vows with clarity and conviction, understanding the profound commitment you are making. This mindful approach transforms the ritual into a powerful act of creating the future you envision together.

8. Embrace Unity in Diversity:

A Mandir for Marriage is a canvas where diverse spiritual beliefs can coalesce. Embrace the richness of different traditions, creating a ceremony that respects and honours the spiritual backgrounds of both partners. This inclusivity adds depth and authenticity to your union.

9. Incorporating Mindfulness Practices:

Elevate your wedding experience by incorporating mindfulness practices. Whether it's a moment of silent meditation or a guided mindfulness exercise, these practices create a serene atmosphere, allowing you to savour each moment and cultivate a deeper connection with your partner.

10. Beyond the Wedding Day:

The spiritual journey doesn't end with the wedding ceremony—it's a lifelong commitment. Continuously nurture the spiritual aspects of your relationship by engaging in shared practices, be it prayer, meditation, or acts of kindness. The Mandir becomes a metaphor for the ongoing sacredness of your union.

The Divine Aura– Reasons to Choose Shri Gauri Shankar Mandir for Marriage

As you stand at the threshold of matrimony, let the spiritual factors guide your choices. Shri Gauri Shankar Mandir is a timeless testament to spiritual sanctity and embarks on this journey with a profound connection to the divine. In the sacred hold of this mandir, your marriage becomes not just a union of two souls, but a celestial symphony, harmonizing your spirits in the divine dance of love. 

Choose the sacred radiance of Shri Gauri Shankar Mandir and let your marital bliss be adorned with the blessings of the divine.

The article was originally posted on: Mandir For Marriage- What Spiritual Factors To Keep In Mind?

[catboynutsack]

Random hopes for FFXIV Dawntrail in no particular order from a person who's currently about to start the title quest Endwalker (so don't spoil the dungeon/fights and any post EW content)

New playable species outside of female Hrothgar; specifically another animalistic species similar to Miqo'te/Viera in that they're much more humanoid with animal features rather than anthropomorphic animals (like Hrothgar.) Biggest hopes are for a bird like race (similar to Meteion, I love harpies so much and while I know she's a familiar it would be cool to see a playable species based on her) or fish people (similar to Dungeons and Dragons Tritons, again I love mermaids and fish-like people so much.)

Random and small, I'd like to see canonical ages established within the game, maybe with like nameday celebrations of some kind for some characters. It would be so cute to have a birthday party for Alisaie and Alphinaud, I would die for those little dweebs and they're still technically kids and you KNOW their mom would go nuts for a celebration for them. I know there's been canon age mentions in additional content like books and such but ingame would be nice.

Viera hats for the love of God. I'm not a 3D artist and idk the process but it can't be that hard can it?? I know there's a whole design aspect involved bc Big Ol Ears but like. Square Enix is a huge company, surely they can allocate some resources to actually make clothing appear on an entire very popular race. If it's more complicated than I know then forgive me 3D artists, I love what y'all do I'm just uneducated on it 💛

Random as hell again and probably more suited towards an update than a new expansion but. I'd really like them to sorta retcon (is that the right word? Idk it's 3:20 am and I cant sleep) primal weapons so all primals have weapons for all classes. I'd kill for an ice scythe from the Extreme Shiva battle from HW or a pair of Leviathan Chakrams for my Dancer. I know that levelling is an issue but if they were, say, available via trading totems from the fight and synced to their class's lowest level I'd think that could work. Idk as someone who loves primal themed glams but mains Dancer and Reaper it drives me bananas that it's so limited.

A new Important female character that Doesn't Fucking Die or is somehow written off in the same pack for the love of God I swear they disproportionately kill off/write off female characters (I miss Moenbryda and Ysayle every day)

More romantic emotes/activities outside of the ceremony of eternal bonding! Not only is my partner very busy and we often have little FFXIV dates rather than in person things, I'm in a polycule and by the time I started playing my partner was already married ingame to my metamor (my partner's other partner) so I'm locked out of some emotes like the embrace emote while they aren't and it kinda sucks. It would be nice to be able to be romantic with them outside of /blowkiss and /hug and to be able to do couples content outside of the ceremony of eternal bonding. Maybe just a me problem though.

Un-gender all clothing items. I want my male character to wear a craftable bikini top goddamnit, it's fun. Plus it's a beachy-themed expansion afaik so it would make sense to un-gender the bathing suits

Speaking of craftable bikini tops, more craftable clothing for glams and not just combat!!! Cute bathing suits and the such that are level 1 and meant exclusively for glams would be amazing. We have a few already but with the upcoming theme being seemingly being beaches it seems appropriate.

Longer hairstyles. Clipping be damned my miqo'te would rock a long hair look (and his braid, which is the same hairstyle as Fourchenault's, already clips into every top ever so like. C'mon)

Number 1 on this list is the new species being humanoid with animal features. I eat that shit up with a spoon. I love making OCs and a new alt devoted to a species I like is absolutely in the books. Already have done it twice lol.

Improve Aurum Vale for the love of God that dungeon is a nightmare and it's like one of three that ever shows up on rouls on Dynamis

Anyways if any of this bothers you for any reason please just scroll by, these are my middle of the night daydreams when I can't sleep of things that I personally would enjoy in the game, I know my ideas don't apply to everyone and all of them wouldn't really make sense for one reason or another but it's fun to write them down and put them out into the world. And obviously this post isnt gonna make a difference in the game itself, I'm just a rando on Tumblr lol. Thank you <3

[voodoolovemagic1]

Revealing the Enigma: Master the Art of Infusing Love with Voodoo Enchantments

Embark on a captivating voyage through the arcane realm of age-old ceremonies and potent love spells with Voodoo Love Magic. Unearth the secrets behind casting love spells and tap into the cosmic energy to beckon the affection your heart yearns for. Accompanied by seasoned practitioners, delve into a mystical odyssey, where you'll receive meticulous guidance and profound insights into the enigmatic domain of Voodoo. Witness the awe-inspiring potency of love spells and manifest the ethereal bond you've forever envisioned. Let Voodoo Love Magic stand as your unwavering companion on the quest for love and eternal bliss.

[troll-bridge]

💕

[kittkaleen]

Ceremony of Eternal Bonding: The Pilgrimage

Meeting with Claribel:  This is not the first time Kitt has made this pilgrimage and Claribel knows it. Still, Kitt thinks there’s no judgement here. Claribel doesn’t care about past relational failures, she’s all about new love, and brighter tomorrows. Kitt smiles, looks at Haru and slips the promissory bracelet on her wrist .

1. Mark of the Matron: Kitt’s not religious, and her spiritual leanings wouldn’t have her running across Eorzea to pray before random shrines. No disrespect to the Twelve but .... they don’t seem to take an interest in her any other time, why would they now, the week before her second marriage? She and Haru are irreverent, giddy. They joke, they laugh, and only when the laughter subsides do they kneel at the first marker, bow their heads and pray. “What did you pray for?” she asks. His answer, a grin, a wink and they are off to the second marker.

[Long read below da cut]

2.  Mark of the Builder and 3. Mark of the Keeper: This has become something of a sight seeing tour. The Builder’s marker and then the Keepers.

Standing with Haru in front of the Builder’s Mark she’s thinking about building relationships. She casts a sideways glance at her husband-to-be, marveling at the speed and manner he stepped into her life and built something from less than nothing. Some people have opinions about the intensity and speed of their relationship. Kitt could not care less. “He’s a keeper,” she thinks smiling softly, considering the pun.

~*~

Marker three, Kitt’s ears perk a bit at the Keeper’s stone; something resonates, but she can’t put her finger exactly on what. She writes it off to the link between Althyk and Menphina - who she does have something of a superstitious reverence for. "All rites of pleasure are mine,” so sayeth Menphina. She moves closer to Haru, wraps her arm around his neck, pulls him closer and softly kisses him. They break, hold hands and kneel.  No words come to Kitt, instead she breathes deeply and offers silence. 

4. Mark of the Navigator and 5. Mark of the Spinner: Limsa and La Noscea have the feel of a holiday. Haru and Kitt’s spirits continue to run high. “I wanna live in a lighthouse,” Kitt says wistfully.

“On a little Island?” Haru asks. 

”A very little one...” she answers.

“With me?”

“Of course.”

She blows him a kiss, they kneel, they pray.

6. Mark of the  Wanderer  7. Mark of the Dusk Trader: 

They stand side by side on a rise overlooking the Floating City and for a few moments are silent. Giddiness has subsided. It’s unclear whether Haru and Kitt are getting serious about the kneel and pray business, or if their day is catching up with them. Haru  reaches for Kitt. She curls her fingers inside his larger hand and leans against his shoulder. They watch until the sky purples like a bruise. Kitt sighs softly. “Twilight. The inbetwixt time.” 

She’s lost to her own thoughts, which ironically have very little to do with weddings. She’s thinking about the Floating City and other things which are meant to last, but instead are irrevocably broken. She thinks about her first marriage and considers similarities and differences - what caused one to fail, and what might help this one to last. She keeps these thoughts to herself. When night is in full bloom, she and Haru walk to the Wander’s marker, kneel together and pray.

~ * ~ From there they move to the city of Uldah. The locals are abed and the streets are quiet. They wander hand in hand moving toward the Thermaturge’s guild where the Dusk Trader marker rests. It’s 2 a.m. and this room is the busiest place in Uldah. The guild is spacious, well tended and full of people. She banter’s with Haru about finding a place for a cuddle, but everywhere they turn they find dark robed lalafells, who manage to look sinister despite their size. There’s something a little unsettling about the Dusk Trader marker.  Kitt considers that sometimes love feels sinister, scary. She’s past ready to get the kneel and pray out of the way.  She shivers a little, reaching for Haru’s hand. “Let’s leave,” she says and so they do.

8. Mark of the Destroyer  9.  Mark of the Warden Kitt and Haru leave Uldah making their way to Little Ala Mihgo. They find the next marker on the second level of the cave. This is a simple stone, and it speaks to her of things destroyed. Her thoughts are of past relationship mistakes, especially the ones she was responsible for. She wonders if she has learned enough to not make the same errors, then shrugs.  Kitt struggles to believe in “always and forever” - it’s outside of anything she has experienced. She understands: Impermanence. Loss. Grief. The wisdom of the Destroyer, some things must fall apart so that others can be built. ~*~ It is the deepest part of the night when they arrive at the Burning Wall, the 9th Marker, the Warden. They are tired.This has indeed been a pilgrimage. They stand looking at the stone, Haru’s arm circles Kitt’s waist and she leans against him.  “You’re tired baby,” he says. It’s not a question. He’s deeply aware of her, what’s she’s thinking and feeling, what she needs, often picking up on things before she is even aware of it herself. She appreciates this. It’s the sweetest form of Warden energy. It’s love in action. He gently moves a strand of hair away from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear, kissing her. They kneel.

10. Mark of the Fury 11. Mark of the Lover 

These are cold places. Kitt’s in her emotional element, ice and snow, the beauty of white. She understands anger is not red, not hot, not burning. No. It’s sly and silent and implacably frigid. In the past she’s decimated relationship with ice, she knows how it goes when she goes cold.  She is sure this is not what she is meant to be thinking as she stands close to Haru, borrowing his body heat. “What will you do if I close off and go cold?” She asks quietly. They’ve spoken of this before. “I’ll love you the same as I love you now.” “But ... for how long? What if I ...” He puts a finger gently on her lips. “I’ll wait out your winter. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.” This is a mantra now, it’s her prayer. They kneel. 

12. Mark of the Scholar

Sunrise sees them at the final Marker, the Scholar. They are quiet, exhausted, stripped of conversation. It’s been a long, long night. Still, sunlight reflecting off aether stones is magical and tired as they are, they appreciate the beauty. Kitt identifies with the scholar stone in an academic and professional manner. She recognizes this as a place of consolidation and  learning. She knows she is meant to synthesize the pilgrimage. Past and present relationships converge in a mental kaleidoscope . She’s overwhelmed, a little tearful, looking at the man she has chosen. She stands in front of him, embraces him, rests her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. His arms circle round her, holding her tightly, he kisses her forehead. They stand thus for a long while, then Haru holds her gently, arms length, searching her eyes.

“Do you still want to marry me, love?” He asks.

Kitt nods solemnly “I do.”

Clasping hands, they kneel, offering up this evidence of their commitment,  They stand, he smiles, brushes her lips with his, “Our work here is done. Bed time.”

She lets him take care of her, of them. Caring for, caring with. This is love.

[efrmellifer]

A Bond Triumvirate

references the sidequest "A Bond Eternal" but not what happens in that quest, just the information one gains on its completion

Etien looked up first at the sound of a key in the lock, half-turning toward the noise. “Must be Estinien,” she mumbled. “Since he’s letting himself in.”

Aymeric nodded. “Still, I should greet him at the door. Stay put, I’ll bring him right back with me.” He patted her hand and made his way down the hall.

Etien’s ear swiveled as they approached, listening to their voices alternating as they conversed the whole way back. It was soothing. She smiled into her tea as she finished the cup.

“Hello, Estinien.” She tipped her cheek upward to receive a brief kiss. “Do you want any coffee?”

“I know I can’t tell you not to go to the trouble, so why not?”

She rose from the table as he and Aymeric sat down.

When she returned with the cup, settling it in front of Estinien, he sighed, then turned the heavy exhale into blowing away the billowing steam.

“I, uh. Have something for the two of you.”

Aymeric leaned in, curious. “Oh?”

“I know you’ll appreciate that I have learned even more about Thavnair. That is, cultural things, rather than the usual information I had been gathering before our little group expedition there.”

At this, Etien’s interest was piqued, too. “Oh yes?”

“Aye.” Estinien placed two boxes on the table, and laid a hand on each, as if he were going to slide them across to Aymeric and Etien, but not just yet. “I happened to see a pair exchanging some woven bracelets, and I was curious what they signified. I asked Vrtra about it that evening, and he told me that I ought to have asked them. So I was watching to see if it would happen again with any other couples. There were a fair few, honestly. It made me wonder why.”

Etien hummed, thinking about it herself.

“But anyroad, when I had worked up the courage from seeing two who looked like they wouldn’t mind questions, I asked them what it was and why.”

He drummed his fingers on the boxes while Etien and Aymeric looked at each other, and then back to him, both looking very interested in the answers he’d collected.

Now he slid the boxes across the table, and when they opened them, he reached over to lift out the contents. While he slipped the dark bracelet onto Aymeric’s wrist, Etien waited her turn, watching with keen eyes. It was a bit like the exchange of rings in so many wedding ceremonies, or at least, she thought so.

Estinien offered his hand to her, curling his fingers to wordlessly request she hand over the bracelet. She did, and watched—though she flicked her eyes over to Aymeric for a moment, giving him a smile—as Estinien cradled her hand in his and gently worked the bracelet past the joint of her thumb and onto her wrist. Hers wasn’t so dark as Aymeric’s had been; his would match his gloves, but hers was a different shade.

Now came the explanation. “The reason why so many couples were exchanging these now is because the new Calamity is well and truly passed, so they have far less to fear. As for what they are, they’re traditional gifts for lovers, requests for divine protection of the ones you love most dearly. Well… that would be you two.”

In return for the gift and his words, he received two of the warmest smiles, and brief kisses of thanks.

“What I don’t know,” he added, “is what gods will be taking on the task of protecting you two. But I thought I’d ask them to.”

“They’d better look out for you, too,” Etien replied. “I’d make you all the bracelets in the world to be sure of it.”

[thedarkrose17]

So finally posting this :D first thing for folks who don't know 14 terms for this cat Noct and bun Prom wedding thing:

Noct's a cat boy, Prom's a bunny boy (they're taller than the cats so Prom gets to be taller than Noct), Iggy is basically an elf, Gladio is basically like an orc but fleshy coloured not the green kind there is a green version in 14 though

Glams transform your clothing to look like something else and the fifth umbral moon is october :)

Anyhow story's under the cut enjoy :) also legit look up eternal bonding stuff it can be super extra and cheesy:

The miqo'te prepares for the biggest day in his life, the eternal bonding ceremony. His eternal bonding ceremony to be specific.

He styles his dark locks, slicks his bangs off his face and makes sure his fur on his tail and ears aren't sticking up. Ignis would kill him if he showed up looking like a mess.

Noctis bites his lip, careful of his little fangs. Last thing he wants is to draw blood.

He adjusts his black suit a little, he's normally used to the black leather cape his job brings him. Feels weird not having a familiar weight of his scythe on his back.

"How do I look?" he asks the elezen man nearby, Ignis.

"Rather lovely. You scrub up nicely." Ignis replies.

Noctis turns to face him, resting a hand on his hip.

"We don't all wear fancy glamours, Iggy."

Ignis rolls his eyes and stands up, heading over to adjust Noctis' suit jacket.

"Looking my best leaves a good first impression vs being covered in gore."

Noctis pouts. One time he did it. He thought he'd be fine. He was terribly mistaken.

Ignis walks away when he's pleased and looks at Noctis.

"Do you have everything you need? Wouldn't want to get half way there before remembering you forgot something important."

"Yes mother, I have everything." Noctis replies, he smirks.

"...You left the fishing gear behind right?"

Noctis winces.

"Maybe I have my bait, clothes and rod…"

"Noctis you won't have time." Ignis sighs.

Noctis empties out his inventory and leaves his fishing gear at the house.

The boys share a home together, they're a group: the chocobros.

Well FC or free company really. Fcs tend to get big homes (if they can afford it) to house all the party members plus it's cheaper than buying a home yourself.

At first, the free company was just three of them: Gladio a huge Paladin roegadyn he's known since he was a kitten and Ignis a tall ninja elezen who he's also known since he was a kitten.

Prompto joined their group five years ago. A viera refugee from Garlemald, fleeing from the cold empire. He'd fled to Noctis' home city, Limsa Lominsa and Ignis found the male viera roaming around lost near the docks.

After showing the then teenager around, he'd done a few quests and dungeons with the group, building a fast friendship with Noctis.

He was a sage, their group needed a healer. So eventually Noctis invited him to join their company, they grew closer and closer over time and the rest as they say is history.

They've been a couple for a few years now and recently just after the fifth umbral moon, Noctis proposed.

He'd picked up goldsmithery just to craft it with his own hands. He'd crafted two just in case Prompto said yes and to his relief the viera had through happy tears.

They'd received their blessings from the twelve and had them engraved. Right now the rings were at the chapel in the east shroud waiting for them.

Noctis adjusted his wristlet, Promise of devotion. They'd gone for the platinum plan. It was a once in a lifetime thing and Noctis thought they deserved the highest package.

"Are you ready?" Ignis asks.

"More than ready." 

* * *

They take Noctis' mount, a four seater car: Regalia type G. It's personally Noctis' favourite.

Ignis sighs on more than one occasion as he tells Noctis repeatedly to keep his eyes forward but the miqo'te is far too excited. Truly it's a miracle he doesn't crash.

The moment they reach outside of the chapel, they can vaguely see Prompto and Gladio in the distance, waiting. It looks like they're chatting.

Both in suits, Prompto's pure white and a light yellow flower crown around his head. Unlike Noctis he didn't dye the outfit and Gladio in a black and white best man suit with his fanciest black shoes.

Noctis practically launches himself out of the car mount, rushing forward before Ignis barely has the chance to get out before Noctis makes the mount disappear.

"Do try not to rush. Your groom wouldn't want you to faceplant."

"I'm fine!" Noctis calls back practically sprinting over to the blonde.

Ignis can't find it in himself to tell Noctis off again. He's never seen someone so excited for eternal bonding. Granted it's the first ceremony he's been invited to.

Prompto grins and rushes over to meet Noctis, pulling him in for a hug when the miqo'te gets close enough. He almost swings him around. Almost.

"You look amazing." he mutters to him.

Noctis looks up at him and smiles.

"You too."

The viera looks down at him and tears up. He smiles and kisses his head.

"I promised myself I wouldn't cry yet." he mutters.

"If it makes you feel better, my dad's probably gonna cry before we even speak."

Noctis lets go of Prompto and looks around.

"Where is he anyway?"

"Guest area." Gladio speaks up. "He's in there with Cor and everyone else."

"Dad called my linkpearl before you got here. Said your dad's already in tears." Prompto sniffles. "'Nea, Cindy and Luna's in there too."

"Plus Iris and my old man and Iggy's uncle." Gladio adds. "He keeps asking how you two are having your bonding ceremony before me."

Noctis snorts and looks over at Ignis who's turned a slight shade of red.

"Yeah, when's the ceremony?" Prompto teases.

Ignis adjusts his glasses while Gladio turns a shade of red.

"I'll get round to it." the roegadyn mutters.

Ignis clears his throat.

"Gladio. We should head to the guest room."

Gladio nods, taking tickets out for the pair. He heads over to a lady and hands them in.

"Don't keep your guests waitin'." he says before him and Ignis are teleported to the guest room.

Noctis and Prompto share a look, one of nervousness and happiness. They grab each other's hand and squeeze before letting go moments later.

"You ready?" Prompto asks.

Noctis heads forward pulling out his ticket, Prompto follows.

"More than ready."

With that the pair disappear. They're teleported to separate rooms specially for the grooms in this case. 

* * *

Noctis double checks over himself. He's handed a bell by a ceremony concierge and told to ring it when he's ready.

Noctis stares at the bell and smiles before deciding to ring it. He closes his eyes as he teleports.

* * *

He appears at the doors in a flash. The first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is his handsome viera husband, well future husband.

He smiles and grabs Prompto's hands. Prompto gives his hands a squeeze and the miqo'te feels himself melting.

There's orange and yellow flowers wrapped around arches, littered in pews and in pots on pillars near the entrance of the room. They're almost as bright as Prompto. Almost.

He gives him a look of fondness which Prompto returns before letting go of his hands.

The duo slowly walk down the aisle together, taking quick glances at each other and finding themselves smiling at the other.

* * *

They zone out from what the moogle says to them.  Focusing on each other until two other moogles summon their rings.

The rings float, a bright white orb coming off them.

Noctis holds out a hand and one ring floats over to him. He turns his hand over and watches the orb float and brings his other hand close.

Prompto holds out his hand ready as Noctis sends the orb over to him. He feels somewhat emotional watching it go over to the viera.

It floats over to Prompto's ring finger and in a flash, the ring appears on his finger. Prompto finds himself smiling as he holds out his hand for the other orb.

 He copies what Noctis did while Noctis holds his hand out waiting for the ring. 

Prompto feels himself beaming as he watches the orb float over to Noctis' hand and turn into a ring once it reaches his ring finger.

The duo stare at their rings with pure delight before flashing them at the moogle behind the altar. It's a weird tradition that's never gone away.

The moogle pronounces them as husbands and spins around, magic coming off the creature. For a second it gains see-through wings before they disappear.  

Noctis startles for a second as crystal-like wings sprout from his back. The same happens to Prompto too and he looks just as surprised to Noctis' relief.

The duo float up, Prompto reaching for Noctis' arms as he does.  Noctis lets him, wanting a grounding touch as well.

"Surprised they didn't give us a warning." Prompto whispers, making Noctis snort.

"Would have been nice huh?"

They float up to a huge window and lean forward, sharing their first kiss as a married couple. It's a little scary being up so high but weirdly romantic if not a little cheesy.

They hear their friends and family clap. Gladio whistling and Ignis saying something to him but honestly it's hard to hear.

The moment they part and float down, Noctis sees his dad sobbing tears of joy and Cor awkwardly rubbing his back.

He smiles and gives Prompto's hand a squeeze.

"He's probably gonna cry more after we leave on the chocobo huh?" Noctis mutters.

"100%" Prompto kisses his cheek.

[benjisbento]

Hello! I am just a random person who stumbled across your wonderful beautiful art of a Warforged and a Triton in love, and I want to know the story behind it! Please, do tell~

Omg hello there ;v; Sorry it took me a couple days to see this!!!

I guess there are sorta two stories: their canon story, and the story behind the art specifically (which I guess is technically not “canon” lol), which I guess would have to do more with the inspiration behind it

But I will literally yell and cry about these two all day any day tbh

So a bit of backstory, Torin “Squash” Buckler is my triton tempest cleric and B0B is my friend a co-player’s warforged barbarian (I don’t know shit about barb subclasses and honestly have no idea which one he is lmao). We started our campaign in Feb at I think 3rd level with something like ten players split between two groups. Some players played in both groups and had two PCs, and then some players dropped out and we combined into one group with six players, all of whom eventually made second characters so we essentially had two parties (that mixed up every now and then) and it has been WILD (all 12 PCs were together very briefly and hearing other players roleplay with themselves was a fucking delight). They’re all part of a group of mercenaries called the Hedge Knights, who ended up getting control of a small Hold by defeating its ruling lord and are currently trying to stop an apocalypse.

Anyway, Squash is kinda a dick, and pretty early on he learned that he didn’t have to actually walk anywhere if he asked B0B to carry him, because B0B is very nice. They pretty quickly formed a ride-or-die relationship. At one point in their travels, they were up against a paracidic fungus that was killing anything it attached itself to, and that’s when they came upon a wode (which they lovingly called Baby Treant) that was infected. Knowing how dangerous the fungus was, and how low the wode’s chances of survival were, Squash voted to just kill it immediately. B0B defended it (and ultimately found a way to cure it!) and that, surprisingly, was when Squash realized that...oh no... I think I love him? B0B carried the wode around in a baby bjorn for a while, and it eventually made its home at their HQ.

A lot of their initial attraction go each other was made in jest (B0B would smash something really hard and I’d joke that Squash was turned on, or Squash would explode something with lightning and B0B’s player would say the same), but it grew into a fierce mutual protectiveness between the two, to the point that Squash will only really willingly heal B0B (what a shitty cleric!) and B0B will fight anyone on Squash’s behalf.

Their relationship moved to the next stage when B0B went into a solo fight in a gladiator-like arena. Squash produced a matching set of platinum rings as he cast Warding Bond, essentially lessening the damage B0B would take in battle, but also taking on some of that damage himself (and as a squishy cleric, well... that’s a lot!). B0B viciously won that fight, but it was still pretty intense.

They were in a party that explored an underground temple and were trapped down there for a while, B0B finding remains of other warforged but no real hint to his own past. Squash comforted him through that with a patience he showed for no one else, and with empthy that no other party member was able to show.

Their journeys continued and Squash felt called by his deity to destroy a cursed mask one of the other party members carried. B0B had promised fo protect the mask, and Squash didn’t want to make him go against his word, so after a complicated series of events, Squash and the other member left the group together and Squash was able to make his attempt without putting B0B in a tough position. Since the mask was magically linked to the other party member, there was a chance that destroying it would also destroy him, and even knowing this, Squash tried anyway. It didn’t work, but now fearing for his life, the other member fled.

Squash began to curse his deity for sending him on this stupid quest and pulling him away from B0B. He felt that he had spent years asking his deity for purpose, and then once he was beginning to find happiness instead, his deity stripped that away.

While apart, the Squash and B0B had a shared dream, tho how much they realized it was shared is still unclear. In it, Squash weilded the stormy powers of his god and was presented with a figure on a seaside cliff. B0B found himself on top of a cliff, praying for Squash’s protection. Using the powers he had, Squash struck the figure, and B0B was embued with power, somehow eternally bonding their very souls together. Upon waking, many miles apart, they both felt their bond to the other grow, and could even sense the direction in which the other was. In a weird way, they were now married. The first time B0B introduced himself as “B0B Buckler” I shed a legitimate tear.

They’ve been through other trials since, but have been the other’s rock through it all. The party has split and rejoined and every moment spent away from each other has been terrible. Currently in-campaign, they find themselves underground once again, at the sight of the forge believed to be the source of the impending apocalypse, and possibly the source of some answers about B0B’s past.

Through the campaign, they’ve pulled each other out of darkness, and in the event that they don’t survive, I’m confident that they’ll at least go down togethed. Tho the dream is for them to retire from this mercenary life and travel the seas together. Squash was raised as a pirate, but B0B has never even seen the ocean. It’s the life they deserve.

Oh yeah, and Squash 100% has Ceremony prepped so that he can, at some point, offially wed them abd get all the good juicy bonuses. Saving that for before the BBEG tho

The art itself tho is based on the song All I Ask Of You from Phantom of the Opera. And how that inspiration came about it actually a really stupid story. My roommate and I were playing the newest Pokemon SwSh dlc and he made some joke about how one of the new Pokemon had some serious Phantom vibes and I was like “lol ur right” and realized I hadn’t watched or listened go PotO in a while, so I was listening to the soundtrack during my commute to work, and was apparently in an extremely sappy mood, and when that song came up, Squash and B0B were all I could thing about. And while breaking up the lines by which character actually sings them doesn’t quite make sense, there is a lot of both Christine and Raoul in both Squash and B0B and many of the lines could come from either of them. Anyway, I then also rewatched PotO (2004) and based their outfits off Raoul’s and Christine’s during that song. Also in my little PotO universe, Squash’s deity is 100% the Phantom and there was a concept for this with him lurking ominously in the background, but I opted for the lighter, happier version.

So yeah, it doesn’t necessarily depict something that happened in their canon, but the sentiments are there. The running joke in all the art of them together seems to be that Squash’s feet are NEVER on the ground lmao Which is kinda a Crime because they have like a 2+ foot height difference that I LIVE for

Anyway thank you so much for asking and I hope their story is everything you hoped it would be. Sorry if it seems a but disjointed, but retelling bits of D&D campaigns without going into too much un- or semi-related detail is wild lmao

[aion-rsa]

Top New Young Adult Books in March 2021

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The young adult genre is still booming, providing romance, adventure, and more for teens and adults alike. Here are some of the YA books from March 2021 we’re most looking forward to or are currently consuming…

Top New Young Adult Books March 2021

Sing Me Forgotten by Jessica S. Olson

Type: Novel Publisher: Inkyard Press Release date: March 9

Den of Geek says: It’s a double twist on The Phantom of the Opera: the heroine is the lurker in the opera house, and music includes magic that can distort memory. Whether or not this fanfic-like premise works for you may depend on mileage, but we have a weakness for the nostalgia and Gothic romance of the Phantom.

Publisher’s summary: Isda does not exist. At least not beyond the opulent walls of the opera house. Cast into a well at birth for being one of the magical few who can manipulate memories when people sing, she was saved by Cyril, the opera house’s owner. Since that day, he has given her sanctuary from the murderous world outside. All he asks in return is that she use her power to keep ticket sales high—and that she stay out of sight. For if anyone discovers she survived, Isda and Cyril would pay with their lives.

But Isda breaks Cyril’s cardinal rule when she meets Emeric Rodin, a charming boy who throws her quiet, solitary life out of balance. His voice is unlike any she’s ever heard, but the real shock comes when she finds in his memories hints of a way to finally break free of her gilded prison.

Haunted by this possibility, Isda spends more and more time with Emeric, searching for answers in his music and his past. But the price of freedom is steeper than Isda could ever know. For even as she struggles with her growing feelings for Emeric, she learns that in order to take charge of her own destiny, she must become the monster the world tried to drown in the first place. Buy Sing Me Forgotten by Jessica S. Olson.

Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley

Type: Novel Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.  Release date: March 16 Den of Geek says: A YA mystery from an author from the Ojibwe community of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, Firekeeper’s Daughter promises a diverse, unique tale. And you know what they say, but we do really love that cover.

Publisher’s summary: Eighteen-year-old Daunis Fontaine has never quite fit in, both in her hometown and on the nearby Ojibwe reservation. She dreams of a fresh start at college, but when family tragedy strikes, Daunis puts her future on hold to look after her fragile mother. The only bright spot is meeting Jamie, the charming new recruit on her brother Levi’s hockey team.

Yet even as Daunis falls for Jamie, she senses the dashing hockey star is hiding something. Everything comes to light when Daunis witnesses a shocking murder, thrusting her into an FBI investigation of a lethal new drug. 

Reluctantly, Daunis agrees to go undercover, drawing on her knowledge of chemistry and Ojibwe traditional medicine to track down the source. But the search for truth is more complicated than Daunis imagined, exposing secrets and old scars. At the same time, she grows concerned with an investigation that seems more focused on punishing the offenders than protecting the victims.

Now, as the deceptions―and deaths―keep growing, Daunis must learn what it means to be a strong Anishinaabe kwe (Ojibwe woman) and how far she’ll go for her community, even if it tears apart the only world she’s ever known.

Buy Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley.

Flamefall by Rosaria Munda

Type: Novel Publisher: G.P. Putnam’s Sons Books for Young Readers Release date: March 23

Den of Geek says: Of all the YA fantasy releases this month, this one seems like one of the most jam-packed with magic. Dragonriders add high-flying adventure to dense high fantasy politics in this sequel.

Publisher’s summary: After fleeing the revolution and settling into the craggy cliffs of New Pythos, the dragonlords are eager to punish their usurpers and reclaim their city. Their first order of business was destroying the Callipolan food supply. Now they’re coming for the dragonriders.

Annie is Callipolis’s new Firstrider, charged with leading the war against New Pythos. But with unrest at home, enforcing the government’s rationing program risks turning her into public enemy number one.

Lee struggles to find his place after killing kin for a leader who betrayed him. He can support Annie and the other Guardians . . . or join the rebels who look to topple the new regime.

Griff, a lowborn dragonrider who serves New Pythos, knows he has no future. And now that Julia Stormscourge is no longer there to protect him, he is called on to sacrifice everything for the lords that oppress his people–or to forge a new path with the Callipolan Firstrider seeking his help.

With famine tearing Callipolis apart and the Pythians determined to take back what they lost, it will be up to Annie, Lee, and Griff to decide who–and what–to fight for.

Buy Flamefall by Rosaria Munda.

Top New Young Adult Books February 2021

The Project by Courtney Summers

Type: Novel Publisher: Wednesday Books Release date: Feb. 2 Den of Geek says: This critically-acclaimed thriller has won praise for lush writing and thrills. An exploration of power and sisterhood in the shadow of a cult no one believes is a cult, it sounds chilling and thorny in the best way. Publisher’s summary: Lo Denham is used to being on her own. After her parents died, Lo’s sister, Bea, joined The Unity Project, leaving Lo in the care of their great aunt. Thanks to its extensive charitable work and community outreach, The Unity Project has won the hearts and minds of most in the Upstate New York region, but Lo knows there’s more to the group than meets the eye. She’s spent the last six years of her life trying―and failing―to prove it.

“The Unity Project murdered my son.”

When a man shows up at the magazine Lo works for claiming The Unity Project killed his son, Lo sees the perfect opportunity to expose the group and reunite with Bea once and for all. When her investigation puts her in the direct path of its charismatic and mysterious leader, Lev Warren, he proposes a deal: if she can prove the worst of her suspicions about The Unity Project, she may expose them. If she can’t, she must finally leave them alone.

But as Lo delves deeper into The Project, the lives of its members, and spends more time with Lev, it upends everything she thought she knew about her sister, herself, cults, and the world around her―to the point she can no longer tell what’s real or true. Lo never thought she could afford to believe in Lev Warren . . . but now she doesn’t know if she can afford not to. Buy The Project by Courtney Summers.

This Golden Flame by Emily Victoria

Type: Novel Publisher: Inkyard Press Release date: Feb. 2

Den of Geek says: Asexual protagonists in fiction are becoming more common (and have existed for decades at least), but it’s always refreshing to see another one. And the steampunk-esque world building in this fantasy adventure promises robots and a mystery that combines science fiction and fantasy politics. Publisher’s summary: Orphaned and forced to serve her country’s ruling group of scribes, Karis wants nothing more than to find her brother, long ago shipped away. But family bonds don’t matter to the Scriptorium, whose sole focus is unlocking the magic of an ancient automaton army.

In her search for her brother, Karis does the seemingly impossible―she awakens a hidden automaton. Intelligent, with a conscience of his own, Alix has no idea why he was made. Or why his father―their nation’s greatest traitor―once tried to destroy the automatons.

Suddenly, the Scriptorium isn’t just trying to control Karis; it’s hunting her. Together with Alix, Karis must find her brother…and the secret that’s held her country in its power for centuries.

This Golden Flame by Emily Victoria.

The Electric Kingdom by David Arnold

Type: Novel Publisher: Viking Books for Young Readers Release date: Feb. 9 Den of Geek says: A Station Eleven reference goes a long way. The plague or zombie element might be rote, but the mention of a magical portal and some weirder things make this an intriguing mash-up of ideas. Publisher’s summary: When a deadly Fly Flu sweeps the globe, it leaves a shell of the world that once was. Among the survivors are eighteen-year-old Nico and her dog, on a voyage devised by Nico’s father to find a mythical portal; a young artist named Kit, raised in an old abandoned cinema; and the enigmatic Deliverer, who lives Life after Life in an attempt to put the world back together. As swarms of infected Flies roam the earth, these few survivors navigate the woods of post-apocalyptic New England, meeting others along the way, each on their own quest to find life and love in a world gone dark. The Electric Kingdom is a sweeping exploration of art, storytelling, eternal life, and above all, a testament to the notion that even in an exterminated world, one person might find beauty in another.

The Electric Kingdom by David Arnold.

The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna

Type: Novel Publisher: Delacorte Press Release date: Feb. 9 Den of Geek says: It’s hard to resist a good call to adventure or chosen warrior, and Deka’s story will bring that particular fantasy for Black girls and everyone else. High praise and that gorgeous cover suggest this one might be good for fans of dystopian YA who are also ready to go on an adventure like Marvel’s Black Panther. Publisher’s summary: Sixteen-year-old Deka lives in fear and anticipation of the blood ceremony that will determine whether she will become a member of her village. Already different from everyone else because of her unnatural intuition, Deka prays for red blood so she can finally feel like she belongs.

But on the day of the ceremony, her blood runs gold, the color of impurity–and Deka knows she will face a consequence worse than death.

Then a mysterious woman comes to her with a choice: stay in the village and submit to her fate, or leave to fight for the emperor in an army of girls just like her. They are called alaki–near-immortals with rare gifts. And they are the only ones who can stop the empire’s greatest threat.

Knowing the dangers that lie ahead yet yearning for acceptance, Deka decides to leave the only life she’s ever known. But as she journeys to the capital to train for the biggest battle of her life, she will discover that the great walled city holds many surprises. Nothing and no one are quite what they seem to be–not even Deka herself. Buy The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna.

Top New Young Adult Books January 2021

You Have a Match: A Novel by Emma Lord

Type: Novel Publisher: Wednesday Books Release date: Jan. 12

Den of Geek says: Theres something quintessentially charming about summer camp stories, where kids trade their day-to-day for the wilderness. But this protagonist can’t escape everything at camp, and she’ll need the help of her sister to figure out the story of more than one family.

Publisher’s Summary: When Abby signs up for a DNA service, it’s mainly to give her friend and secret love interest, Leo, a nudge. After all, she knows who she is already: Avid photographer. Injury-prone tree climber. Best friend to Leo and Connie…although ever since the B.E.I. (Big Embarrassing Incident) with Leo, things have been awkward on that front.

But she didn’t know she’s a younger sister.

When the DNA service reveals Abby has a secret sister, shimmery-haired Instagram star Savannah Tully, it’s hard to believe they’re from the same planet, never mind the same parents — especially considering Savannah, queen of green smoothies, is only a year and a half older than Abby herself.

The logical course of action? Meet up at summer camp (obviously) and figure out why Abby’s parents gave Savvy up for adoption. But there are complications: Savvy is a rigid rule-follower and total narc. Leo is the camp’s co-chef, putting Abby’s growing feelings for him on blast. And her parents have a secret that threatens to unravel everything.

But part of life is showing up, leaning in, and learning to fit all your awkward pieces together. Because sometimes, the hardest things can also be the best ones. 

Buy You Have a Match: A Novel by Emma Lord.

Lore by Alexandra Bracken

Type: Novel Publisher: Disney-Hyperion Release date: Jan. 5, 2021 Den of Geek says: A twist on Greek mythology from an accomplished author promises creative world-building and fantasy adventure. Publisher’s summary: Every seven years, the Agon begins. As punishment for a past rebellion, nine Greek gods are forced to walk the earth as mortals, hunted by the descendants of ancient bloodlines, all eager to kill a god and seize their divine power and immortality. 

Long ago, Lore Perseous fled that brutal world in the wake of her family’s sadistic murder by a rival line, turning her back on the hunt’s promises of eternal glory. For years she’s pushed away any thought of revenge against the man–now a god–responsible for their deaths.

Yet as the next hunt dawns over New York City, two participants seek out her help: Castor, a childhood friend of Lore believed long dead, and a gravely wounded Athena, among the last of the original gods.

The goddess offers an alliance against their mutual enemy and, at last, a way for Lore to leave the Agon behind forever. But Lore’s decision to bind her fate to Athena’s and rejoin the hunt will come at a deadly cost–and still may not be enough to stop the rise of a new god with the power to bring humanity to its knees.

Buy Lore by Alexandra Bracken.

Siege of Rage and Ruin by Django Wexler

Type: Novel Publisher: Tor Teen Release date: Jan. 5, 2021 Den of Geek says: This month’s high fantasy installment is the finale in a popular series, and one that makes us want to see how the characters arrived and where they go from here. Ghost ships! Mind control!  Publisher’s Summary: Isoka has done the impossible―she’s captured the ghost ship Soliton.

With her crew of mage-bloods, including the love of her life Princess Meroe, Isoka returns to the empire that sent her on her deadly mission. She’s ready to hand over the ghost ship as ransom for her sister Tori’s life, but arrives to find her home city under siege. And Tori at the helm of a rebellion.

Neither Isoka’s mastery of combat magic, nor Tori’s proficiency with mind control, could have prepared them for the feelings their reunion surfaces. But they’re soon drawn back into the rebels’ fight to free the city that almost killed them.

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Buy Siege of Rage and Ruin by Django Wexler.

The post Top New Young Adult Books in March 2021 appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[warcraft-lore-archives]

Kaldorei Weddings

Traditional kaldorei weddings seem to be similar to human weddings on the surface, although some notable differences have been depicted in lore. Examples of these different aspects can be found in their participants’ roles, the practice of exchanging tokens during the wedding, attire, location of the ceremony, and the ceremony itself.

Two examples have been given of night elven weddings, although there are several inconsistencies between them. The first is Malfurion and Tyrande’s at the end of Stormrage, and the second is between two Highborne ghosts in Forever Rise, Azsuna. However, neither should be regarded as proper representations of what a traditional kaldorei wedding looks like. First of all, the Highborne ceremony almost certainly adheres to elven customs from over ten thousand years ago. Secondly, Malfurion and Tyrande are the leaders of the elven people, which allowed them a certain degree of grandeur in their wedding that the average kaldorei is unlikely able to replicate. 

Bridesmaids & Groomsmen

Kaldorei have something similar to traditional bridesmaids and groomsmen, although they perform a different function. In night elven weddings, the ‘bridesmaids’ and ‘groomsmen’ serve as witnesses to the ceremony. Additionally, they symbolically stand as strength for the bride and groom [Stormrage, Chapter Thirty].

It is unclear how many bridesmaids and groomsmen are customary in kaldorei weddings. Tyrande and Malfurion only asked one each, Shandris Feathermoon and Broll Bearmantle, to stand with them as they took their vows [Stormrage, Chapter Thirty]. The Highborne, on the other hand, each have two bridesmaids and groomsmen.

Wedding Rings

One quest removed in Cataclysm suggests that night elves ritually exchange necklaces, rather than rings, as a sign of their love. The quest giver says his kaldorei wife gave him a ‘pendant of bonding,’ which he requests be returned to her following his untimely demise [Quest: Mortality Wanes]. When Malfurion and Tyrande were married, they did not appear to exchange any wedding rings (although it is important to note that they also never exchanged necklaces).

However, the two Highborne ghosts getting married in Azsuna do have wedding rings to give one another [Item: Eternal Groom’s Wedding Band, Item: Eternal Bride’s Wedding Ring]. While it is pure speculation to say so, it is possible that the Highborne – as members of the higher caste in elven society – have different wedding practices than lowborn kaldorei. If that is true, it could be that ring exchange between spouses was a purely Highborne custom, which explains why neither the elven quest giver nor Malfurion or Tyrande have wedding rings. High elves and blood elves today give one another rings when they get married, which may be further evidence that the Highborne engaged in the practice, as the quel’dorei could have retained the tradition from their Highborne ancestors (assuming they did not only start doing it when they were introduced to human culture and customs) [Quest: Arelion’s Mistress, Short Story: Quest for Pandaria, Part Four].  

Wedding Attire

Kaldorei brides typically wear a colored hanbok [Item: Dark Green Wedding Hanbok, Item: Green Wedding Hanbok].

Tyrande did not wear a wedding hanbok, instead choosing to dress in high priestess garb for her nuptials. Interestingly, both she and Malfurion wore exceptionally long, ornate cloaks, which may be traditional elven wedding garments. Shandris and Broll also wore long cloaks during the ceremony, although theirs were not quite as grand as the bride and groom’s [Stormrage, Chapter Thirty].

Location

With very little to go off of, it is hard to say where kaldorei traditionally hold their weddings. Tyrande and Malfurion’s ceremony took place in the Temple of Elune in Darnassus, but the Highborne have theirs outdoors in Azsuna, away from all nearby religious sites. Having said that, considering how the Highborne strayed from Elune worship, it is no surprise they chose to have their wedding outdoors [NPC: The Oracle Dialogue, Page: Elune].

The Ceremony

According to Stormrage, the procession of events in Malfurion and Tyrande’s wedding ceremony was as follows: First, horns signaled the entrance of the wedding party. Then, an honor guard of Sentinels entered bearing Malfurion and Tyrande’s respective sigils on lances. Druids and priests of the Sisterhood entered after that, followed by senior officers of the Sentinels and, lastly, the bride and groom. Shandris and Broll followed the bride and groom in to stand at their side while the honor guard, druids, and priestesses split into two columns and departed in opposite directions. Thereafter, Alexstrasza and Ysera arrived to give the two their blessing, after which the ceremony promptly ended [Stormrage, Chapter Thirty].

Unfortunately, it is unclear who usually presides over elven weddings. Tyrande and Malfurion’s wedding was unconventional in this aspect since it was ordained by none other than the dragon aspects Alexstrasza and Ysera, although some in attendance had cause to believe that the forest guardian Remulos would have done it had he not been too injured [Stormrage, Chapter Thirty]. The Highborne in Azsuna have no one to preside over their wedding.