#avianar

[anorthalas]

A Most Unexpected Expectation

The following story was written by the wonderful @edaigoa​ to pair with the graphic featured at the end of this post in a collaborative story we’re writing. Enjoy!

Sitting at his desk, Kalyanar looked over the parchment Avie had handed him. It was finer than anything he could normally afford, crisp and expertly produced, but for once, the richness of it did not bring a scowl to his face. Instead, he was smiling, fingertips running gently over the embossed emblem his lover had ordered printed on each and every sheet. It was something he could have done himself, with some work, but having it gifted to him with an excited grin had warmed his heart. That she had specifically chosen a modified Brightquill symbol meant more than he could say.

With his lips pursed, he set his usual quill aside, rummaging about in his desk for a moment before pulling out another, along with a tray and a runed ring. The new quill  - or rather, old, as he had to blow a layer of dust off - was made of thick, heavy metal; despite the obvious care that the individual vanes had been sculpted into a realistic feather shape, even an orc might have found the pen cumbersome. It was, by all appearances, too heavy for practical use. The round tray and ring both matched the quill, made of the same silvery metal and etched faintly with runes. The tray was set aside, and a bottle of fresh ink that shone faintly with mana was poured within. The ring, Kalyanar slipped over his thumb; a loose fit, until it wasn’t, sitting snug at the knuckle after only a moment. The printed parchments were stacked, tapped on the desk, and stacked again. He flipped through the pages, thumb ring brushing the edge of each sheet before the were laid out on the desk in front of him, in neat rows and columns until all the available space on the desk was filled, with a single master parchment and a scrap of notes directly in front of himself.

He had spent ages on those notes, short though they were; Avie dictating and editing on the fly as he dutifully read out the lines, writing scratched out and rewritten until perfected. Despite their shared excitement, they both wanted it to be just right.

Ring still on his thumb, he took up the hefty quill in a light grasp and tapped it on the edge of the ink bowl; bowl and quill alike rang like a delicately crafted bell. The quill split- halved and split, again and again, copying itself into thinner and thinner slivers that surrounded the bowl, floating in midair. Kalyanar reclaimed the original in a much more comfortable grasp, now that it was reduced to the thickness of a normal quill, the metal vanes and barbs of the feather thin enough to waver in the air.

He dipped the quill into the ink, and it’s copies followed like a flock of angry hummingbirds, nibs taking up ink like nectar and flexible metal tines softly buzzing together with every motion. He took up a position over the master parchment- and the copies mirrored him whirr of finely ringing metal as they jostled for position over the other sheets. Kalyanar waited calmly, despite how his own nerves jangled along with the chiming feathers; only when each quill was as still as the one in his hand did he shift, moving the pen back and forth without touching parchment. Each and every one mirrored his motions in perfect chorus. Glancing briefly at his test sheet, the scribe set quill nib to parchment and began to write with his finest, most formal script.

For a while there was no sound but the gentle scrape of quill upon parchment and the faint buzz of metal tines; every so often, he returned to the ink bowl, and the mirrored dance turned to organized chaos as each quill rushed to echo the motion in a flurry of metallic feathers and jabbing quill points. Somehow, Kalyanar neatly avoided getting pricked, the magic more organized than it appeared. With the steady hand of a scribe, Kalyanar filled in the page; at some point, he heard Avie back come in behind him, the only warning the rustle of her clothes and the soft, indrawn breath of her surprise as quills whipped about. He smiled, but didn’t comment, even as he felt the weight of his lover’s ley-bound gaze upon his back and the magical scrivenery tools.

For all the preparations and care, the actual writing did not take long. Formality completed, Kalyanar signed his signature at the bottom with his own personal script that included a heavy dose of showy flare- but leaving plenty of room for Avie to do the same. A breath of air over the parchments- hot, unnaturally so, and laced with embers that did not burn - dried the remaining wet patches in the ink in record time. Only then, did he turn, quill deposited on the rim of the ink bowl with a flurry of followers that slowly carded back together into one fat quill.

“What do you think?” He asked, holding the master parchment up for inspection with a hopeful smile. “It should be just as you wanted. I’ve been working on this ink for a while... I ground up the tailing shards from Lori’s enchanting into the pigments. I feel like I nearly enchanted my mortar and pestle half a dozen times process of testing, but I think I’ve got the right method down. Hopefully it’s not too bright? It still looks good on this end, so I figured this was as good of a time as any to test it-”

“I can see it,” Avie said, neatly interrupting his rambling; her voice soft with wonder as she grasped the parchment with shaking fingers. The shimmery black ink glowed with mana under the spellbreaker’s leysight, making normally imperceptible writing just as visible to the blinded woman as it had been before. Suddenly, with a single gesture, a whole avenue of life was abruptly reopened for her.

“-Ah. Good. I’m glad,” Kalyanar breathed, at a loss for a moment, before he reached up from his seat with a gentle hand, palm resting on his beloved’s arm as she blinked rapidly, clearly trying to keep tears at bay. “Hey. Come here?” He offered, sliding his chair back from the edge of the desk. There was a moment without a reaction as she kept staring at the parchment, oft-white eyes glowing an intent lilac, before Avie’s arm slipped around Kalyanar’s shoulders as she claimed a spot on his lap; she avoided putting pressure on his bad leg with familiar ease, despite the faint tremble in her step.

“...it really isn’t too bright, is it?  I tried to use a moderate amount-”

“It’s fine,” Avie laughed, the words breaking with tears and the sharp sound of a sniffle despite her obvious happiness. “It’s perfect. Kalyanar, I can see it. That's perfect. And so are the words.” She finally looked away from the parchment to beam at Kalyanar, before leaning in to kiss him soundly. By the time they pulled apart, Kalyanar’s cheeks were flush and damp from Avie’s tears.

“...I wanted you to be able share this with me,” he whispered, forehead resting gently against her own. “This, more than anything.”

“Thank you. It’s the best present.” Another sniff and Avie roughly scrubbed a hand over her cheek, before she straightened up with a toss of her hair, reclaiming her poise with dignity. “But. I hope you weren’t expecting me to sign all of these by hand?”

Kalyanar let out a relieved laugh, tilting his head to rest his brow briefly on her shoulder. “Of course not.” Grin growing easily into a toothy smirk, he slid the ring off his thumb, dropping it neatly into Avie’s palm. “Here. I can show you how this works.”

Brows furrowing, Avie stared at the offering.

“...I am going to get stabbed by your army of quills,” she laughed in return. Avie turned the ring over in her hand- before slipping it onto her own thumb, fearless as ever.

“Nonsense! You’ll be fine. Give the pen a tap. It will still remember the parchments…”

“I’m not sure I remember how to sign my own name.”

“Don’t even joke. You’ll be fine. Here, let me show you...”

Not long after the ink was dry on dozens of identical signatures, the entire collection of copied parchments could be found posted around the Dawnspire, and slipped into the mailboxes of every significant friend, acquaintance, and noble found with the bounds of Quel’thalas:

House Silverbrooke of Anor’thalas and the Brightquill Family of Silvermoon City

Dawnward Avie Silverbrooke and Lightward Kalyanar Brightquill would like to announce the expectation of their first child, to be born in the coming month of November.

Signed: Avie Silverbrooke & Kalyanar Brightquill

[thenaaru]

DAY THIRTY ONE: What has ended recently in your character's life, or what new thing has just begun?

[musical accompaniment]

“...I want you- and I want to know you.”

Kalyanar’s voice was barely a whisper, low as he met her eyes. Not a trace of doubt on his face, or in his tone. Trembling fingers curled around his neck into deep red hair, a moment of hesitation before she leant in, lips barely touching his in seeking, asking brushes. Every single piece of her was his, her heavens and oceans laid bare for him to see. He treated her so softly, his touch cool against the flush on her skin and taught her things she had never known to exist. His gravity was all consuming, his every kiss pulling her further under.

“You have me.”

The darkness then had been intimate, the words on his breath drawing them closer together until they were flush. Neither of them had had the courage to put the feeling between them to words then and they had gone unspoken.

The darkness now was terrifying; within it it illuminated all her doubts, her fears. She missed the sight of his bright green eyes, of his handsome face and the smattering of freckles over his nose. The way he looked at her with things they couldn’t yet say. Things she would never see again.

If she could have seen his regret now it would only have broken her further. He should have told her.

“I miss you.”

Wordlessly, he pulled her in against his chest and held her tight. In his arms, Avie clutched at his shirt and refused to let her pain overwhelm her again; she would let his light chase away her shadows.

“Don’t let go.”

Heart and soul she was his, with him she would step into a great unknown. It frightened her, to lay herself so bare to him, left her trembling as she reached up to place a hand on his cheek. It was so hard to both know what she felt and not understand it. Kalyanar delicately unfurled her fingers from the fabric at his chest, laying them smooth against his shoulder and his own over them. With his other arm hooked securely around her waist, he pressed her forehead to hers and for a moment they just breathed the same air together.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

White-blind eyes turned up to him searchingly, confessions on her tongue that refused to settle in the space between them. As if he understood, Kalyanar squeezed her closer and closed his eyes. It was too much to tell her now; she was too fragile to face the rawness of the words should they be spoken aloud.

“I meant what I said.”

His words soothed her and she lay her head upon his chest, listening to his steady and sure heartbeat. When exactly they had become something more than friends she wasn’t sure, but somewhere along the way they had begun something new. The thought rekindled the fire in her chest for him, flames that had been quiet since her world had gone dark suddenly bursting back into life and with that, Avie wasn’t so afraid anymore.

@edaigoa

[goaprose]

.26: Too Good to be True | SG SW 2.2017

26th: If your character could take the pen from your hands and tell their own story -- write their own narrative, and create their own version of their "happy ending", how would it look?

Kalyanar walked.

He walked through a bustling crowd, with a painless ease that he couldn’t help but marvel at. Such a simple thing, walking. Something everyone who had it took for granted. He wouldn’t, ever again. His leg had been all but healed - he cared little for the scars, only that the muscle had been repaired, regrown, filling the gaps that failed and ached at all hours. The lingering taint, too, was gone. There was barely a twinge, and the tattoos that remained above and below the scar remained dim and unnecessary. Laughing, Kalyanar shifted into a jog, then bolted, running full-tilt across the Court and through the blooming willow trees.

Caravan Court too was thriving. All of the buildings had finally been repaired and were brightly painted. An entire line of wagons lined the court road, tucked through the Amber Ring and out the other side. The crowds he walked through were shoppers and other merchants, coming and going from an area returning to life and bustling with trade.

And the only way that was possible was with the return of lost family members. Brightquill after Brightquill had crawled out of the woodwork; returned from hiding, traveling from lands where they had been lost, from homes they had made elsewhere, unknowing of the other’s survival. Ten, twenty, fifty people, blood family all, reclaiming their homes and restarting their trades. Kalyanar walked among them all, clasping hands and touching brows to his own, unashamed of the occasional tears that fell.

The Legion was a distant concern, on it’s way to defeat. Silvermoon was rebuilding. And Kalyanar’s family was growing further still. His own nieces and nephews grew strong and healthy as never before. A partner and wife, beloved and far more gorgeous than he deserved, gone heavy with new life. His own new family amongst the old.

It was entirely.

Perfect.

unedited

[thenaaru]

🎄 you know who

Winter’s Veil at Caravan Court had been everything she had hoped for and more. She had been surprised when Iiloridan had invited her, having expected him to sulk about her relationship with Kalyanar for at least another couple of weeks, but she had readily accepted it. The Brightquill were more like family to her than her blood relatives and she loved them dearly. This time of year had often been hard for her but as she sat now, curled up in front of the fire with Bella fast asleep on her lap, all her bad memories felt so very far away.It was late, so she was curious when Kalyanar appeared and quietly took the book from her hands in favour of placing his own in them, a finger to his lips. She rose her brows at him, very carefully shifting the sleeping teen so as not to wake her - even the fiercest of warriors needed to rest, you see - and allowed her lover to lead her outside. The Court was beautiful with all it’s softly twinkling lights and gently swaying foliage, but the quaint little vardo that he took her to was even better. Inside he had decorated it with wreaths of winter plants and berries, presumably grown by his own hand, and it smelt delightfully of the holidays. It was lit with several small, flickering candles that cast a warm glow across the plush furnishings and Avie couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. The best decoration of all, though, was the mistletoe right above their heads.“It’s beautiful, Kalyanar,” she breathed, her eyes settling back on him as he turned to her and snaked a tattooed arm around her waist and cupped her face with a tender hand.“I’m glad you like it...I know everyone know’s now but...I thought perhaps a place just for us..”“It’s perfect,” and it was. She felt her heart swell against her chest with words she could not yet say and turned her lips to the palm of his hand. His fingers curled to coax her lips back round to him and he leant down to ghost his own to them.“Happy Winter’s Veil, Avie,” Kalyanar murmered before kissing her with unspoken feeling, affectionate and slow, and felt his ears burn a deeper shade of red as she returned it in kind and melted into his embrace.

@edaigoa 💕

[thenaaru]

Jealousy

Jealousy was a cruel and fickle beast. It smothered and warped and destroyed everything it touched. It crept in like frozen dew on a cold morning and yet somehow its flames still licked around his heart. Kalyanar was not used to feeling jealous. He had no right to be, not over this, not over her. He’d known what she was like from day one; scheming and promiscuous and altogether too beautiful for her own good. With a stiffness in his leg that seemed to ache now more than ever, he limped along the edge of the ornately decorated ballroom - another one of her fancy dinners to impress and please those of birth much higher than he. He hated everything about them. He hated the air of elitism, the pomp and the over the top show of wealth. He hated the people there and how they would look down at him or see him as a plaything to pursue to make themselves feel superior. But most of all, he hated what they did to her.

For a while now he’d been watching her flirt with him. Standing too close, smiling too much, laughing at jokes he knew she didn’t find funny. He’d been able to endure it for a while before he’d made his excuses and left them to it, the heavy, twisting feeling in his gut foreign and unwanted. He’d pursed his lips in what...disgust? When he’d seen them leave together through doors that guests had no reason to go through unless they were invited. Deep in his gut he felt it sting again. Why did she make him feel like this? She wasn’t his, she was free to do whatever she pleased and who was he to say she could not bed the handsome and rich men who bent over backwards to earn her favour in the hopes they would be the next Lord of the Isle. They who could offer her things far beyond his means. He was a cripple, a cripple and a peasant. He had no wealth to give, he was not strong enough to hold a sword in her honor - not that she would ever need someone to pick up a blade in her name.

Kalyanar frowned and threw back the dregs of his drink, looking down at the crystal glass in his hand. It stood for all he despised about nobility; glass was not good enough for them, like he was not good enough for her in all the eyes that fell on him as he snatched up his staff and stormed off out of the ballroom as well a man of his condition could. As he climbed the stairs to the room he knew they had taken to he cursed his lame leg for the thousandth uncountable time, ignoring the scrutinising gaze of the haughty bastards that hurried by him lest they catch something from the commoner.

He passed the object of her desires in the long, exquisitely decorated corridor. With golden hair slightly ruffled and a flush of exertion upon perfectly sculpted cheeks, he gave the sweetest, smuggest smile to Kalyanar as they drew level. The rumors of his affections for the Lady of the Isle were well known, though she refused to acknowledge them herself. A more physically inclined man might have well started a fight on the spot, but Kalyanar simply sneered back at the nobleman and planted a harmless ember in his robe pocket as they passed. The smell of fine silk burning would soon alert the little prick to his warming gift, he was almost sad he’d miss the show.

Ten minutes passed. He waited outside the room, lingering in the shadows at the end of the corridor, until he heard the faint click of the handle as she opened the door and stepped out. Her hair was different, her lipstick was gone. The faintest tug of her lingerie under her smooth satin dress was gone. Leaning heavily on his staff, he took a step. The dull thud of its end on the wooden floor alerted her to his presence. Avie span on her heel, yellow-green eyes widening as she saw him. For a fleeting second, she looked shamed and for that same fleeting second Kalyanar thought that maybe this time she would be remorseful. If she was, she didn’t show it to him.

“Kal.”

“You promised.”

Avie took a deep breath and inclined her head slightly, looking at him with her perfect mask. Whatever she felt beneath it he couldn’t tell and it angered him. Jealousy stabbed and tugged and rolled in his guts as she looked him up and down, eyes cold and unwilling to apologise. In her mind, she had no reason to. They weren’t a couple, he didn’t own her. He was a lover, a fling. A friend.

She felt a deep, cold twinge in her guts as she turned and left him. Her back to him, her mask faded where he couldn’t see. Perhaps there was a touch of guilt in her voice.

“I have to return to the party. I’ve been gone too long.”

“Right.”

She wasn’t worth his anger, no matter how much he ached for her.

@edaigoa

[thenaaru]

B: What my Muse admires about their love interest(s) ; D: Their worries/insecurities regarding their love interest(s) ; X: My Muse’s thoughts on starting a family and their position as a parent ; for Avianar, of course ;)

OF COURSE.

B: What my Muse admires about their love interest(s).Avie admire’s Kalyanar’s resilience and quick-witted humour. She also really digs that he’ll turn around and stand up to her when she’s out of line, but never humiliates her. His ability to help her learn and grow is what makes him such a good balance to her.

D: Their worries/insecurities regarding their love interest(s).Avie is terrified deep down of willingly committing to another person; she thinks it will remove the freedom she’s fought so hard to get. She’s worried that Kalyanar will only see her as a throw away once he gets bored of sleeping with her, which is why she’s reluctant to let him show her any affection.

X: My Muse’s thoughts on starting a family and their position as a parent.If Kalyanar were to bring it up to her right now, she’d run a mile. She’s not ready to have kids of her own, her social and political climate is not at all suited to raising a family and even if it were, the idea terrifies her. In the future though, if she and Kal become something more serious and they’ve had responsible conversations about it, she’d want nothing more than to have his child.

As a parent, she’d be eternally questioning her actions and often looking to others around her for support. Her own parents weren’t exactly a good model to follow, with an abusive father and a mother that, although she loved her, did nothing to stop it. They gave her little to no freedom, and set up her warped view of marriage and relationships, so she would do everything in her power to be everything they weren’t. She’d most likely turn to Kalyanar for reassurance whenever she had to scold their children, for fear that she had been too harsh. She’d strive to make sure her children knew they were loved and wanted, and that she supported them in whatever they wanted to do or whoever they grew up to be so she could break the cycle she learned from her own parents.

[thenaaru]

STREAMING NOW LIVE!

https://picarto.tv/thenaaru

Working on a scribble for the S.S. Avianar because I’m weak willed. Come say hi!

[thenaaru]

✤ avie + kalyanar, ithanar + chia for the ship meme thing!

under a cut b/c long!!

Avie & Kalyanar (#avianar)

who said i love you first?

Kalyanar!

who laughs when the other trips?

...avie.....(for real tho, she wouldn’t because she knows how he feels about his leg, but she would if it wasn’t such a sore spot)

who pays the bills?

they both do! Avie as a lot more money, but Kalyanar likes to feel like he’s supporting his family.

which one makes a bigger deal around the holidays?

100% Kalyanar

who’s more clumsy?

Avie, she’s blind man :

who checks their daily horoscope?

Avie

who sings louder in the car?

Kalyanar, when no one else but Avie is around

who leaves the cap off the toothpaste?

Avie...it probably makes Kal roll his eyes most mornings.

who is more up to date in pop culture?

Kalyanar, though Avie keeps a tangential interest for making small talk, Kalyanar is the real charismatic charmer.

who insists on going to see the newest movies?

HMMMMM, Avie I would think. For now anyway, she is so bored being pregnant- take her to see new things!!

who cries when the abused animal commercials come on?

Avie...she’d blame it on the pregnancy hormones but she’s really just a huge softie.

who’s the lighter sleeper?

Avie, Kalyanar struggles in *getting* to sleep but Avie will wake up at the slightest noise.

who believes in ghosts?

They both do.

who does the grocery shopping? 

Kalyanar, usually. Avie honestly probably gets stressed, she doesn’t know how to stock a kitchen.

@edaigoa​ THEM.

Ithanar & Ciha (#forget the list)

who said i love you first?

uhhhh they’re the sort of couple who don’t say it often, but it’ll proooobably be Ithanar.

who laughs when the other trips?

Ciha...

who pays the bills?

Ithanar, him rich.

which one makes a bigger deal around the holidays?

Ciha, she makes Ithanar do all the dumb traditions and he pretends to hate it.

who’s more clumsy?

Ciha, probably not looking where she’s going in the house.

who checks their daily horoscope?

Ithanar, because he wants to drop in deadpan that he can’t do something because the stars aren’t in position. Not today.

who sings louder in the car?

Ithanar, absolutely.

who leaves the cap off the toothpaste?

Ithanar, but Ciha doesn’t really care.

who is more up to date in pop culture?

Ciha, Ithanar is cultivating his ‘grumpy old man’ image.

who insists on going to see the newest movies?

They probably both do, depending on what’s out.

who cries when the abused animal commercials come on?

........Ciha...........

who’s the lighter sleeper?

Ithanar, Ciha sleeps like a gd rock.

who believes in ghosts?

boooooth of them? They’ve both seen ghosts so it’s pretty hard to deny.

who does the grocery shopping?

Together! Ithanar pretends not to notice Ciha slipping things into the basket when she thinks he’s not looking.

@captainswingbeard GAY.