#iorwen/blade

[haledamage]

Coming Home

I'm a day late because this thing got much bigger than I expected, but better late than never! This is for @shepherds-of-haven Shepherds Summer 2021! The prompt was Pacific Rim AU!

Some of the backstory stuff is from this post here. Some is just pushing ShoH canon slightly to the left so it fits better in a Pacific Rim setting. Some is the result of reading ShoH and watching PacRim at the same time and then taking a nap to see what seeds got planted. There will be a part 2 to this because I had to split it up in order to finish it on time and then I was late anyway.

Shepherds of Haven/Pacific Rim AU. Iorwen Emroth/Blade Bronwyn (well, hints of it. more in part 2)

---

The Haven Shatterdome looked very small from overhead. Iorwen watched it loom closer with a trepidation somewhere between “being late for an important exam” and “being read her last rites.”

It had been just over two years since she’d last been this close to a Jaeger, half a world away and in a different life, but all the Shatterdomes looked the same after a while. Steel and glass and everything painted in olive drab, black, and safety yellow. 

Part of her felt like it was too soon to walk into those hangar doors again, the empty space at her side where her partner used to be still a raw, open wound. She couldn’t even think xer name yet without feeling like she couldn’t breathe. Returning to work felt like a betrayal of xer memory.

Another part of her, louder with every passing minute, was just so happy to be home again.

"Wen!"

Iorwen had barely stepped out of the helicopter when she heard her name called and turned to see Red jogging toward her. He looked more tired than she remembered him, but his smile was as bright as ever, his hair vivid against their otherwise drab surroundings. She’d known he was here - he’d transferred to Haven shortly after she left Capra - but hearing it and actually seeing him were two very different things.

She dropped her bag carelessly to the tarmac and ran to meet him halfway, throwing herself at him as soon as he was close enough to wrap her arms around his neck. He hugged her back without hesitation. They were making a Hel of a scene in the middle of the landing pad, but neither of them really cared.

"I knew you'd come back," he mumbled into her hair.

"Had to." She finally pulled away, stepping back just enough that she could see him. "You can barely tie your shoes without me, Liefred."

He only laughed before leaving her side just long enough to grab her bag. He slung an arm around her shoulders as he rejoined her, dragging her towards the hangar. "Welcome home."

She stared up at the Shatterdome, hangar doors towering over them. It didn't look nearly as welcoming as Red seemed to think it should, and was much more intimidating than it had been from the air. It still smelled like blood and motor oil - or maybe it was her memory that did.

She tried to put on her best smile anyway, for his sake if not her own, and let him drag her inside.

They stepped into a hive of activity, the sounds of machinery and voices echoing off the walls, laughter and shouting and clanging metal rising up to greet them. She tried to stop and take it in, but Red was still dragging her along with him out of the main hangar and into a labyrinth of hallways; she probably could have escaped him if she tried, but she didn’t really want to.

“Have you met the Marshal yet?” he asked, once they were in a quiet enough place that he didn’t have to yell to be heard.

“Not yet. Mostly talked to his second so far.” Trouble Alder had, in fact, shown up out of the blue one day three months ago, sitting on her front porch with a stick of charch between his lips and looking completely at home. He’d revisited her every day for a month until he’d finally worn her down enough to convince her to come home. Stubborn bastard. “What's he like?”

“Intense,” Red answered almost immediately. “Most of the younger crew are terrified of him. He doesn't like me.”

Iorwen scoffed. “Bullshit. You’re the most exceptionally likeable person I’ve ever met. Everyone likes you.”

“He doesn't.” 

They stopped in front of a door in what was probably the barracks, the walls lined with identical doors on either side. Sure enough, there was a simple bed, a dresser, and not much else inside. Iorwen didn’t mind; she didn’t need much else.

Once she’d dropped off her bag and they started down the next hallway, Red continued, “I don't know if he likes anyone. He barely says two words to anyone but Trouble.”

She was still skeptical, but didn’t push. “Well, he must be doing something right. Look at this place. Capra barely had a skeleton crew compared to this.”

“It’s amazing!” Just like that, Red lit up again. “Some of Blest’s best and brightest are here. Pilots, mechanics, scientists, strategists, you name it.”

“And which of those are you? All of the above?”

“Mostly scientist, I think,” Red rubbed a sheepish hand over his hair. “There’s better pilots. Pan, Neon, and I serve better in the lab than on the field most of the time.” He paused, watching her cautiously, before adding carefully, “And… which will you be?”

“I’ll be working in the clinic,” she said quickly. “As a Healer. I’m not… ready to be around Jaegers again. I might never be.”

“I understand,” he assured her, reaching out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We all do.”

They fell silent after that, and stayed that way until they stopped in front of a door labelled Administration. “This is Shery’s office. She’ll get you all set up.”

“Thanks, Red.”

“Anytime.” With one final quick hug, he turned to leave, only to stop halfway down the hall. “Oh, and Wen?”

“Hmm?”

“Welcome to the Shepherds.”

---

It was two weeks before Iorwen finally met the Marshal, and it happened entirely by accident.

She had just finished a shift in the clinic, patching up minor burns and bruises on unlucky mechanics and restless pilots. The silence between Kaiju attacks left everyone on edge, and that led to carelessness, which inevitably meant stupid injuries. She didn’t mind. All things considered, she’d rather have the silence.

As she turned a corner, she noticed a light was on in the training room, and curiosity led her there without much input on her part.

She recognized the man in the room easily enough. Even if they’d never spoken directly, she’d seen him around enough to know who he was. He commanded the attention of a room like no one she’d ever met before. He was hard to look away from, even here, out of uniform and either unaware or uncaring of her presence.

Magnetic. That’s what he was.

He was also much younger than she expected for a Marshal. He was close to her own age, or at least she assumed he was. She wondered about the story there - obviously there must be one - but knew better than to ask the rumor mill. Gossip was like dust: inevitable, everywhere, and harder to see through the more you stirred it up.

The Marshal’s back stiffened, and Iorwen knew she’d been caught staring even before he glanced over his shoulder in her direction. She stepped into the room as casually as possible. “Hello, Marshal.”

He simply nodded, dark eyes unreadable. “Ranger.” She bit her lip to stop herself from correcting him. “Emroth, right?”

“Yes, sir.” She approached until she could finally see his face. “Iorwen.”

Another nod. “Blade.” She thought he would leave it there, but after a moment, he spoke again. “Antiqua speaks highly of you.”

“Of course he does. He's biased.” She laughed, rolling her eyes at the idea that Red was going around extolling her virtues to anyone who would listen. When the Marshal - Blade, she mentally corrected herself - gave her a look that she interpreted as curiosity, she elaborated. “We trained together as cadets. He was my first Drift partner actually.”

“But you never piloted together?”

“No. It…” Iorwen broke eye contact, the floor suddenly fascinating. “It didn't work out that way.”

“It's not too late,” he said, almost softly.

“Yes it is. I'm not a Ranger anymore. Not after…” Xer name got stuck in her throat, like it always did. She took a couple of deep breaths until she could comfortably breathe around it again, but her smile was still sad. “I'm happier on the ground. I'm a good Healer. It's where I should be.”

She could feel Blade’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look back up to meet them. Eventually, all he said was, “I see.”

He turned his back on her again and it didn’t take long before her gaze was drawn to him again. He was wearing a tank top, like most people did when they came here to train or spar, and standing this close she could clearly see the web of electrical scarring trailing over his arm and shoulder.

She knew those scars well. The scars of someone forced to solo pilot a Jaeger. She should know, she had a matching set.

Blade did an admirable job of pretending he didn’t know he was being observed, but he moved too carefully for it to look entirely casual. Or maybe he just always moved like that. He picked up a bo staff and tested the weight of it.

Iorwen took the opportunity that presented without thought or hesitation. “Looking for a dance partner?”

The briefest flash of surprise crossed his face before his expression smoothed back out. “Are you… sure?” he asked carefully. If she didn’t know better, she might say he almost sounded nervous.

She found it charming. She found him charming, with his not-quite-smile and his cool confidence, this magnetic man who could simultaneously terrify the cadets while inspiring absolute loyalty in them.

But she didn’t tell him that, of course. She just grabbed a staff of her own and grinned as she lifted it in a fencing salute. “On your guard, Marshal.”

---

After that first night, it became a regular thing. Not every day, not even on a set schedule. But sometimes after she was done in the clinic or in the garage, Iorwen would stop by the training room, and sometimes when she did, Blade would already be there. Not waiting for her, not exactly, but never surprised when she arrived.

He never really said much, but she didn't mind talking for the both of them. She could tell he was warming up to her, as the weeks passed; his silence felt much less formal and stiff and more cordial. Eventually, even friendly.

Two things were apparent from the very beginning, though. Well, three things. The first was that Blade, as a fighter, was completely out of her league. She never stopped by with any expectation of beating him; she was content to follow his lead. It was nice to be active again, to feel the familiar burn in muscles left dormant in her self-imposed retirement.

The second was that they were extremely drift compatible. While Iorwen could never beat him, she could consistently predict him. They could both be blindfolded and still know what move the other would make. There was an effortlessness to the way they understood each other that bordered on the supernatural. It was a kind of connection that she hadn’t felt since Zori had been killed.

The third thing was that neither of them were willing, in any way, shape, or form, to admit the second thing.

It was barely a week before Red found out.

He flopped down on the bench next to her in the cafeteria. “I brought those papers you were looking for to your room last night, but you weren’t there.” He didn’t say it as an accusation, but it still managed to feel like one.

“I spent a couple hours in the training room,” she said as casually as possible. “Trying to get back in shape.”

Red blinked a few times, letting that sink in, before smiling wide. “That’s really good. Let me know if you ever need a sparring partner.”

“I kind of… have one?”

“You do?” His smile went from friendly to devious, the look of a man who had four sisters and was willing to tease her as if she was a fifth. “Who?”

Before she could stop herself, she looked across the room at Blade. He sat at a table with Trouble, whose laughter was loud enough to reach them even from the other side of the busy cafeteria. The Marshal’s face remained impassive, looking like he wasn’t even listening, but Iorwen knew him well enough to tell he was amused.

As if he could feel her watching him, his eyes snapped up and locked on hers. She smiled at him; he nodded almost imperceptibly.

Red cleared his throat, and she looked away quickly, turning her attention back to the smugly amused grin of her best friend. “Well, I guess maybe it’s not everyone he doesn’t like.”

“Guess it’s just you.” She nudged his shoulder and he rubbed at it as if she’d hurt him. “He’s not as bad as you made him out to be.” She couldn’t stand his knowing look anymore and turned away, but doing so led her eyes right back to Blade. “He's nicer than he looks. And surprisingly funny. He doesn't treat me like I'm fragile. Like I'll break if someone talks about… Zori.” 

Mentioning her former Drift partner and copilot didn’t hurt as much as she expected it to this time. Less like twisting a knife in her heart and more like being poked in a fresh bruise.

Mentioning xer also stopped whatever comment Red had been about to make right in its tracks. He studied her with obvious curiosity, mouth still half-open in surprise. Whatever he saw on her face had him leaning forward and tapping his forehead against hers, a quick gesture of affection and understanding. She leaned into it until he pulled away.

And then his teasing smile was back as if it had never left. “Plus, he's handsome.”

She eyed him warily, but let him have the subject change. “That too.” She picked up a piece of fruit from her plate and popped it into her mouth. “Please don’t say anything about this to Pan or Neon.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“I mean it, Red. Not a word.”

---

“So I hear you and the Marshal have a thing.”

Iorwen sighed from the very depths of her soul. “I hope Red knows how very dead he’s about to be.”

Panrachus looked legitimately confused at her response. “What? I didn’t hear that from Red, I heard it from Caine.” Then he gasped, eyes widening with sudden, delighted recognition. “What does Red know?”

She only barely bit back a groan. “Why are you even here?”

“Right! We’ve got something you oughta come see.”

She followed him, with more than a little trepidation, out of the clinic, through the office labyrinth, and out into the hangar. It took her a few minutes to get her bearings and realize where exactly they were going. “Why are we going to the Jaeger bays?” He didn’t answer. “Pan?”

Then they turned the corner, and she had her answer.

Looming over her was a Jaeger unlike any she’d seen before. It looked almost lanky, the proportions lean and sleek instead of the more familiar bulky designs. It would be unbelievably fast with the right pilots; she could tell that just from looking at it. From the top of each wrist, a wicked-looking blade extended over the hand, almost long enough to drag the ground. It was painted black, navy, and silver, but its eyes glowed bright blue.

From the ground, it almost looked like iladrin. Like the same blue light that lit Iorwen’s own eyes.

“What’s her name?” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the Jaeger.

“Stellar Enigma.”

“Who’s piloting her?”

“You are.”

She jumped at the unexpected voice behind her and turned to see Blade, Red, and Trouble approaching, along with an entourage of what looked to be equal parts Shatterdome leadership, actual engineers, and nosy onlookers.

“You are,” Blade said again, quieter, softer, “Ranger.”

“Blade, I--” Iorwen started, but she wasn’t sure what she actually intended to say.

He reached up and lightly pinched her cheek, a faint smile on his lips. “You’ll be alright.”

Before she could reply, Trouble gently but pointedly cleared his throat, reminding her of their audience. She glared his way, just for a second; he grinned back, unabashed and unrepentant.

“Who’s my copilot? Sir.” She added the last as an afterthought, trying to act some semblance of professional.

“I get the feeling you already have someone in mind.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Bit early to be reading my thoughts, isn’t it, Marshal?”

---

Iorwen’s suit didn’t fit as well as she remembered. Tight around the shoulders, too loose at the waist. Like it was meant for someone else, no matter how many things tried to tell her otherwise.

Blade’s fit him like a second skin. He looked like a Jaeger cockpit was where he was always meant to be. Like it was the rest of the world that didn’t fit him right instead.

She met his inscrutable gaze before ‘admiring’ could cross the line to ‘ogling’. “You look good.”

He paused for a long time, staring back at her in silence, before finally clearing his throat. “You too.”

She grinned, both at the compliment and at the sight of the Marshal so off-balance, but she took pity on him and changed the subject. “Do you want the left or right?”

“Right.”

“Good. I prefer left.”

They didn’t speak anymore as they connected to their harnesses and their suits started interfacing with the Jaeger, the computerized voice talking them through system checks. It took longer than Iorwen remembered, but it had been a long time since she last Drifted with anyone, let alone with someone new.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, once their helmets were in place and they’d run out of checks to do. “I’m not--”

“Yes,” he interrupted sharply. “You’re ready. We both are.”

There were a lot of things she wanted to say. To thank him, mostly, for a list of things that seemed to be growing bigger by the hour. She kept quiet; he’d hear it in her thoughts soon enough.

“Initiating neural handshake in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… neural interface drift initiated.”

Between one breath and the next, she was somewhere else. Images flowed over her, some familiar, some new. She did her best to let them pass, to not cling too hard to any of them.

The destruction of Drummond's Point, the first attack the day the Kaiju came. Iorwen, dragging Zori's unconscious body out of town as fast as thirteen-year-old legs could carry her. Blade, stern and silent even as a child, a soldier from the day he was born. Zori, tears at the corners of xer eyes as xe laughs at a joke Pan told, Red and Neon joining in, the three of them always together even then. Blade's older brother, startlingly similar to him in appearance and demeanor, the two of them either sparring or fighting; for them, there had never been much difference.

Zori's scream as xe's ripped out of the cockpit. Gladius didn't make a sound as he met the same fate.

Iorwen's grief washed up against Blade's, soothing in it's familiarity. A gentle reminder that they weren't alone anymore, that thanks to the Drift they'd never be entirely alone again.

She saw him in her memory of their first meeting. Stern, aloof, but warm underneath, like a fire behind frosted glass. Captivating her before he even so much as looked at her. 

And then herself through his eyes at that same introduction. Sad, withdrawn, but still burning bright. The embodiment of stubborn hope, like a flower blooming in a snowy field.

And then they broke through the surface, both gasping as they came up for air. Below them, Stellar Enigma came to life. The rush of memories and emotions settled into the background, present but no longer demanding attention.

“Pilot connection stabilized.” It wasn’t the computer’s voice this time, but Shery over the intercom. “How do you feel?”

Moving as one, Blade and Iorwen lifted their hands, right fist resting on left palm, and bowed. Stellar Enigma did the same, moving as smoothly as her pilots did. Iorwen couldn’t tell which of them the wave of elation came from, but it burst out of her in a laugh.

“It feels like coming home.”

[haledamage]

made my Shepherds of Haven girls in this amazing dollmaker <3

left is Iorwen Emroth, Ket-born, Circle-trained, Healer and Knife Lady (she will be romancing Blade and Chase)

right is Nia Ravenwood, Hunter-born, self-taught, Shifter and gunslinger (she will be romancing Trouble and Briony)

Iorwen should be, like, a lot taller than Nia, but you can’t have everything :P (Wen is 6′1″ and Nia is 5′4″)

[haledamage]

⭐ ⭐

gonna talk about two of my newer girls because I can :D

Iorwen Emroth (Shepherds of Haven)

Her eyes are a very, very dark blue, like the late-twilight sky. Her iladrin makes them look either sapphire blue or pitch black, depending on time of day, lighting, and her mood.

She has curly silver hair that comes just past mid-back. She wears it down most of the time, but when she’s working she wears it in a braid so she can hide knives in it just in case. She doesn’t really need more knives - she has so many knives on her at any given time, two more stilettos hidden in her hair aren’t going to make that much difference - but better safe than sorry.

Between her silver hair, night sky eyes, freckles, and magic, her mother used to call her a lot of astral-themed pet names. “My north star” was a particular favorite of Iorwen’s. She wishes her mother had been alive when she got her Ket tattoo, but she always thinks of her when she looks at the words--”child of the stars.” A lot of her other tattoos are also constellations and star maps, continuing that theme (but also because she thought it looked Magey and is kind of cocky-as-a-defence-mechanism in regards to her magic. Like, if she uses her status as a Mage as a shield to keep people away, no one can turn around and use it against her as a weapon). She’s also an Astral Order Mage (Healing specialization), so really she’s just star-themed through and through. I really should have given her a more celestial name, I think :P

Ket-blooded, obviously, since she has a Ket tattoo :) when Iorwen was younger she wished she’d been born with arma instead of magic, thought it would have been easier. Norms would have still seen her as Other, but being a Mage made her feel like an outsider even among other Diminished. She grew out of it, of course, and loves her magic now, wouldn’t trade it for the world, no matter how much her kind (and herself) are hated or mistrusted, but… well, when you’re twelve years old, all you want is to be like the other kids.

Has a pretty bad scar from her left cheek, down her neck, ending just below the collarbone. Someone got in a lucky hit with a sword. It probably would have killed her if she wasn’t a healer, or at the very least ended up with a much larger scar and possibly lost her eye. Her opinion on it varies wildly from day to day, anywhere from “this scar is disfiguring and I’m hideous and no one will ever love me” to “this scar makes me look tough as shit, I’m a survivor dammit, look at how badass I am” - though most days it’s in between those two extremes, she doesn’t even remember it’s there or doesn’t really give it any thought beyond a “yep, that’s still my face.”

A sixth bonus fact since the first one was so short, Iorwen is my tallest OC (so far) at 6’1” / 185.5cm. This means that the only ROs taller than her are Blade and Red.

Natalie Shaw (Mind Games: Obsession)

Nat would love to just settle down somewhere as a motorcycle mechanic. Maybe in another life, where she isn’t a superhuman whose very existence is technically illegal. She loves motorcycles, though, and even though her own bike is now scrap metal (rest in peace, Nighthawk), she likes to hang out in biker bars and pick up hot bikers talk shop.

She has a flower vine tattoo on her right forearm, which covers up her old self-harm scars. She’s found (or is finding, it’s a work-in-progress) healthier ways to deal with how overwhelming her telepathy can get sometimes, but the tattoo helps… soften the blow, as it were. Makes the memories behind the scars a little less harsh. Reminds her that she’s still growing.

Nat keeps a bag of essentials packed in the trunk of her car at all times, just in case. It’s got a couple days worth of clothes, some cash, some other necessities. She’s always ready to run if she needs to. She always expects she’ll need to. If not today, then maybe tomorrow; if not tomorrow, then soon. It’s, uh, probably not a healthy mindset, but it’s a safe one for an Alpha. It’s why she’s still alive.

Even though I call her Nat, no one in her life really does, they all call her Natalie. Her dad calls her Nat, sometimes. Sylvia used to, before… well, before. She doesn’t really have any friends close enough that she’s comfortable being on a nickname-basis with. She’d like to get there with the team, but it’s too soon. (probably Iri starts calling her Nat even before she says anything about it, because he’s like that. Blake probably picks it up not long after. I could see Fawn and maybe Adontis asking permission to call her that after Iri and Blake pick it up (which she’d let them), but I feel like Freja and Locke would always call her Natalie no matter what… though I may have Adontis and Freja backwards here, I don’t know them really well yet)

One of my more heart-on-her-sleeve OCs. Most of my girls have masks or walls that they keep up between them and the world at large, but Nat spends so much energy trying to hide what she is that she just doesn’t have the capacity to also hide who she is. Says what’s on her mind more often and with a bit less tact than she probably should. Good news: very witty and mostly a kind-spirited person so even though she’s blunt, she usually doesn’t have anything mean to say. Bad news: if she doesn’t like you, you’ll know it, and in such a way that you’ll probably want to punch her. She’s definitely had her nose broken at least once and she definitely deserved it. Neither good nor bad news: a very bold flirt, because she doesn’t see much point in not being upfront about it? Though I think this is gonna change once her attraction stops being purely sexual and becomes more romantic because that’s new and she doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that.

[haledamage]

Sunshine and Starlight

my first @shepherds-of-haven fic!

I have been blindsided by Iorwen/Chase as a pairing. I adore Chase, but I thought these two wouldn’t work romantically. I literally made a second girl with the intention of romancing Chase, but Iorwen had other plans and called dibs. This scene appeared in my mind so suddenly and vividly that I knew it wouldn’t let me have any peace until I wrote it :) I don’t mind because it turns out they’re adorable together! who’d’ve known

takes place sometime between returning from the Reach and leaving for the next mission, but there aren’t really any mentioned spoilers, so if you don’t have access to the alpha it won’t be a problem

----

Late at night, the skies above Haven were endless.

Even with the light pollution from the lanterns below, the stars were bright and abundant, twinkling merrily in the clear winter night. They weren’t much different from the stars Iorwen grew up with, that she used to watch with her mother a lifetime ago.

She sat on the corner of the battlements around the Shepherd’s compound, far enough out that the guard patrols couldn't disturb her. The dingy white city stretched out below her, the dark abyss of stars flowing above, and she let the peace of the night settle around her like an old friend.

The night sky wasn’t the only thing to join her on the wall. After a while, she became aware of a presence at her side. Though she hadn’t heard anyone approach, she knew who it was as soon as she realized he was there. “Hello, Chase.”

“Good evening, sunshine,” he said jovially. His boots tap-tap-tapped a rhythm as he kicked absentmindedly at the wall beneath them, a sudden wealth of noise and energy where just moments ago he’d been completely silent. “Thought I’d find you up here.”

She turned her gaze away from the sky to meet the bright green eyes of the man at her side. “You did?”

“No.” He shrugged. “But I looked everywhere else.”

“Well, here I am.” She gestured to herself with a little flourish. “Why were you looking for me?”

“Oh, you know. This and that,” Chase said vaguely. He studied her face in silence for a moment, though Iorwen had no idea what he might be looking for. In a surprisingly soft voice, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” At his doubtful look, she added, “Really. I’m just… thinking.” She pulled her knees up to her chest as if it would help force the words past the knot in her throat. It had been a long time since she’d talked to anyone about her past, but these days it seemed to be all she talked about. “About my mother. Today would have been her birthday. She died when I was ten.”

He was quiet for a long time, either because he didn't know what to say or because he was waiting to see if she was done. Probably the latter; she'd never known Chase to be at loss for words. Finally he just said, "I’m sorry."

She shook her head. "Thanks, but it was a long time ago." Iorwen's eyes were drawn back heavensward. "I wonder what she would think of my being here. Being a Shepherd. She used to tell me I was meant for greatness." She pitched her voice lower, imitating her mother's voice, accent dropping back into the one she'd had as a child. "‘Someday, starlight, you’re gonna change the world. The gods themselves are gonna see how bright you shine.’"

"Starlight?"

"Yep," she said fondly. "Mom loved her celestial-themed pet names. Had a whole collection of them."

"Like ‘sunshine’?" There was something in his voice almost like jealousy. Like he'd never considered that his nickname for her might not be original.

She found his possessiveness strangely charming; she liked that he wanted them to have something that was just theirs. "No. More moon-and-star themed, mostly. ‘Sunshine’ is all yours." Iorwen bit her lip and added, a little hesitantly, "Though what you said when I asked you about it… may have hit a little close to home."

"In a bad way?"

"No."

She could feel Chase's eyes on her, but she kept hers resolutely pointed at the stars. She knew she would say something dumb and probably overly sentimental if she looked his way.

He caught the dropped conversation before it could fall, not giving the quiet a chance to wedge its way between them. "Well, my opinion may not be worth much--"

"It is to me," she interrupted quietly. Apparently keeping her eyes to herself wasn't enough to keep the affectionate comments at bay.

His breath hitched the slightest bit, only audible in the otherwise silent night, but he kept talking like she hadn't said anything. "--but I think she’d be proud of you. I don’t see how she couldn’t be."

She wanted to hug him, but didn't want to risk making him uncomfortable, so instead she settled for nudging his shoulder with her own. He leaned into the contact immediately, pressing his side to hers.

She was fairly certain she's blushing. Probably, it was too dark for him to see it. Part of her wished it wasn't; she liked the sly grin he gave her when he made her blush. "I think she would have liked you."

"Of course she would. I'm very likeable." It's flippant, almost dismissive, cutting off any potential compliment she may have given him before she had a chance to give it. He's deflecting, she knew he was, putting up walls before she could sneak any closer. Maybe he'd already let her closer than he meant to.

She was used to it. Everyone in the Shepherds seemed to have walls of their own. Some, like Blade, built fortresses of steel and ice to guard their secrets; others, like Trouble, it was more like a hedgerow, meant to disguise from prying eyes but not to keep away visitors.

With Chase, it was more like tinted glass, concealed but still tantalizingly transparent. He gave her just enough of a glimpse past the wall to draw her closer, to leave her wanting more.

Iorwen didn't let it get to her. She was a patient woman. She didn't push.

Instead, she gave him the subject change he wanted. "You never did say why you were looking for me."

“Yes! I almost forgot,” he said, so clearly a lie that even she could hear it, “I brought you something.”

With an overly dramatic flourish, he pulled a small box out of some hidden pocket and presented it to her. She took it gingerly, unsure what to expect. It was a very fancy wooden box painted with what must be thousands of tiny, pale blue and lavender flowers. It was light enough that it could be empty, but she knew he wasn’t the kind of man to give empty boxes as presents, even very pretty empty boxes, so she carefully opened the lid.

Inside was a neat row of small, white paper bags. Iorwen knew what it was even before the scent of apricot hit her nose, before Chase said, voice sweet and more than a little smug, “I found some more of that tea you like. Heard you telling Tallys you were out.”

‘Out’ was something of an understatement. Some scarcity issues in the west meant even Riel had been having trouble getting ahold of it for less than a small fortune. “Where did you find this?” she asked, awed, but remembered who she was talking to and quickly added, “No, nevermind. I don’t need to know. You didn’t have to--”

“I know I didn’t.” He ruffled her hair affectionately, his hand lingering on the crown of her head. “Happy birthday.”

She closed the box and slipped it into one of her pockets, not wanting to risk dropping it from this height. “It’s not my birthday.”

“I know. It was a couple of sennights ago, right? I know it’s kind of a touchy subject,” he waved a hand as if to clear away the pain that she associated with her birthday before it could land, “so I figured I’d wait.”

Iorwen finally gave in to that hug she’d wanted to give him earlier. He hugged her back without hesitation, arms tight around her as if to stop her from pulling away too soon - as if she had any intention of doing so. “Thank you, Chase,” she whispered in his ear.

“Anytime, sunshine,” he murmured back. “Anytime.”

It would be dangerously easy to get lost in the warmth of him, even more dangerous because she knew he’d let her. His amber and leather scent was equal parts comforting and enticing, and she realized abruptly that the soft fabric she pressed her face into was the scarf she’d given him for his birthday. It still carried a hint of honeysuckle from the oils she used in her hair. She wondered if he ever noticed, if it made him think of her; she bit the inside of her cheek to stop from asking.

Iorwen pulled away before her mind could continue wandering down that path. Chase let her go easily enough, though she could feel the slightest tension in his arms that said maybe he didn’t want to. She tried not to be smug about it.

He didn’t give her time to be. Without another word, he hopped off the wall and turned to offer her an elbow, like he was some fancy nobleman wanting to take her for a walk in the garden. “We should head back inside. I don’t fancy being lectured for letting you catch a cold. C’mon, I’ll buy you a drink.”

She slid down from the wall next to him, feeling graceless and clumsy in comparison though she knew she was neither. “I don’t drink.”

“And?”

“And neither do you.” She tried to keep her voice serious, but couldn’t stop the playful smile spreading across her face. “Also this is technically my house.”

Chase shrugged. “Semantics. We’ll improvise. Unless you’re not interested…?” There was a subtle challenge in his words and a much less subtle one in the quirk of his eyebrow and the tilt of his lips. They both knew just how interested she was; he wanted to see if she’d admit it.

“I didn’t say that.” She laced her arm through his and was rewarded with a bright grin. “Lead the way.”

It was a short walk down from the battlements into the compound itself, but on some unspoken agreement they turned and took the long way. And if they both walked a little slower than they normally would have, well, that was between them and the stars.

[haledamage]

⭐️ for Kira and Iorwen

Kira:

(only has 7 people who even could make the list (8 if you count Rook) and is very upset with me that I’m making her choose only 5)

Rebecca. Mum always gets top spot.

Tina

Mason and Nate always make the list, they’re her best friends even if she’s not romancing them

Adam and Felix’s inclusion would depend on who she’s romancing. On Adam’s route (or Nate’s), Adam does; on Felix’s route (or Mason’s), Felix does

Iorwen:

Red, always. He’s her person, for better or worse.

Trouble

Briony

Caine

Blade, if she’s romancing him. Or Chase, if she’s romancing him. Lavinet, if she’s romancing neither of them

[haledamage]

Shepherds Recruit Form

Biographical Info

Name, Nicknames: Iorwen (YOR-wen) Emroth, “Wen” to close friends

Callsign: Codex

Alias: Circe Blackwood

Height: 6’1”

Gender: cis female

Sexuality: pansexual

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 27

A scarred and tattooed female Mage with chest-length curly silver hair and playful dark eyes. You're wearing the crisp, black-and-silver-threaded uniform of the Shepherds, the rampant hound shining proudly on your chest. You sport a small tattoo on the inside of your wrist as a result of your Ket heritage.

Background Info

Weapon: dual daggers Whisper and Requiem (plus several other daggers and knives hidden on her person)

Magic Specialization: Elae/Healer

Racial Heritage, Birthplace: Ket, Drummond’s Point

Education: Circle-Trained

Miscellaneous Info

Past Jobs: bodyguard, caravan guard, archivist (briefly). In the years between leaving the Veiled Circle and joining the Shepherds, she very rarely stayed in one place for long, even when employers offered her more permanent jobs.

Likes: reading, astronomy, quiet places, sweets, khav, dark colors, knives

Dislikes: crowds, being alone, bullies and senseless cruelty, boredom, politics

Strengths: Iorwen is very good at things that protect others: healing and defensive magic, diplomacy and diffusing arguments, charm and redirection. She is also well-read and very good at retaining knowledge and finding information. She is kind and empathetic and possesses nearly limitless patience.

Weaknesses: Anything that involves subtlety and subterfuge, as she’s not a very good liar, or intimidation of any kind. She’s not very good at letting others get hurt in her stead or at knowing when to back down from a fight. While quite skilled with daggers, her combat knowledge outside of them is limited, and even though she’s fast she lacks in physical strength. Her patience can also sometimes turn to stubbornness and a refusal to give up or let things go. Suffers from a serious case of survivor’s guilt.

Hobbies/Special Skills: Reading (romance, poetry, or old Mage tomes especially); sewing (mostly used for clothing repair, but also a surprisingly talented knitter); climbing and hiking

Guardian Animal / Daemon / Patronus: Horse / Bat/Flying Fox / Owl

Major Arcana: The Hermit (upright: Soul-searching, introspection, being alone, inner guidance / reversed: Isolation, loneliness, withdrawal)

DnD Morality Alignment: Neutral Good

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw / Hufflepuff (they’ve been tied in every test I took)

Meyers-Briggs Personality Type: INFJ-T

Personality

(Bold which way your recruit leans.)

Heart of Gold/Will of Iron

Rebellious/Loyal

Independent/Social

Tactful/Straightforward

Bold/Cautious

Charming/Stoic/Intimidating

Witty/Sincere

Resentful/Forgiving

Self-Preserving/Self-Sacrificing

Book-Smart/Street-Smart

One-God/Atheist/Old Faith

Relationships

Best Friend(s): Trouble, Red, Briony

Preferred Mission Partner(s): Blade, Trouble, Briony

Friendly Rival(s): Chase, Ayla

Love Interest(s): Blade, Red, Chase

Ship Name(s): (I am very bad at ship names but I’m open to suggestions)

First Kiss Scenario:

Your first kiss with Blade happens during sparring... and one of you is pinned.

Your first kiss with Red awakens some deep-buried feelings within each other.

Your first kiss with Chase is on the compound's rooftop.

(*REALLY? I couldn’t have gotten better results for these if I’d done it on purpose, good lord)

Enemies: none? At least not within the Shepherds, she gets on pretty well with everyone.

Quotes: “My words are unerring tools of destruction, and I’ve come unequipped with the ability to disarm them.” - Maggie Stiefvater (The Raven Boys)

“Strange how people who suffer together have stronger connections than people who are most content” - Bob Dylan (Brownsville Girl)

Art

(art by @darksprawn​)

(from this picrew)

(recruit form is here if you want to fill it out yourself!)

[haledamage]

OC Info - Iorwen

tagged by @mimabeann​ <3

I’m gonna do Iorwen because she’s new enough that I know I haven’t done any info memes for her yet and because I love her a lot

tagging @queen-scribbles​ and @serenbach86​ to tell me about their Shepherds too ;) (also anyone else who wants to do this!)

Iorwen Emroth

GENERAL

name: Iorwen Emroth

alias(es): Wen (only Red and Trouble get to call her that (and Blade could if he wanted, but of course he won’t)), Speaker (callsign)

gender: cis female

age: 27

place of birth: unknown, raised in Drummond’s Point

spoken languages: common, Kettish (can read some Mage script, but it’s not really a spoken language)

sexual orientation: pansexual

occupation: Captain in the Order of Shepherds

APPEARANCE

eye colour: very dark blue, glow faintly with iladrin

hair colour: silver, darker at the roots and almost white at the tips

height: 6’1” / 185.5cm

scars: many; largest is on left side of her face, from her cheek to her collarbone; another notable one is on her right hip, a puckered scar from being stabbed by a knife; all others are smaller/less noticeable, mostly glancing sword hits or just small patches of discolored skin where she didn’t heal it well enough

burns: a few, all minor; occupational hazard as a Mage

overweight: nope

underweight: yes, though not as much so as she was when she first joined the Shepherds, her friends make a point to force her to eat more. Still, magic burns a lot of energy and she doesn’t do a very good job of remembering to eat extra to offset it. Muscular she may be, but still clearly much too thin. “Ropy” and “rangy” are words that come to mind to describe her. (she wears so many layers most people don’t know any of that though)

FAVOURITE

colour: blue

music genre: I feel like in a modern au she’d be a big punk fan

movie genre: sci-fi, action, maybe also horror

tv show: sci-fi, monster-of-the-week shows like Buffy/early Supernatural

food: chipotle chocolate. loves sweet and spicy things but especially in combination

drink: khav with a dash of honey and vanilla or sweet cream

books: any and all. has a soft spot for romance but only Shery knows that and only Shery will ever know that if Iorwen has any say in the matter

HAVE THEY

passed university: sort of? Graduated from Super Secret Mage School (studied at the Veiled Circle)

had sex: no

had sex in public: obviously no

gotten pregnant: no

kissed a boy: platonic forehead/cheek kisses only

kissed a girl: same as above, only platonically

gotten tattoos: yes, lots; Ket tattoo on her right wrist (“child of the stars” in old Kettish); her whole left arm and shoulder is star maps (mostly actually creating constellations out of her freckles, though some are real star formations) and astrological/astronomical symbols; arcane runes down her spine

had a broken heart: yes

been in love: she currently is, but she’s trying to convince herself it’s just a crush. At a push she might go so far as to admit she “greatly admires and respects” him and that he’s “a very dear friend”.... but she has other very dear friends and she knows deep down that how she feels about them and how she feels about him are quite different

stayed up for longer than 24 hours: too often

ARE THEY

a virgin: yes

a cuddler: VERY yes, girl is an octopus when given the opportunity, platonically or romantically

a kisser: yes, also both platonically and romantically

scared easily: no

jealous easily: a little, but she’d never admit it

trustworthy: very yes

dominant: depends?

submissive: also depends

in love: head over heels for her boss

single: for now

RANDOM QUESTIONS

have they harmed themselves: self-neglect is a form of self-harm, so yes

thought of suicide: no

attempted suicide: no

wanted to kill someone: yes

rode a horse: yes

have / had a job: yes

have any fears: crowds, failure, rejection

FAMILY

sibling(s): none

parents: Rho and Tora Emroth, both deceased

children: none; unofficially-adopted son Caine Tavadon (look, Caine has a mom, Iorwen knows Caine has a mom, but also like? my son now)

pets:  none

[haledamage]

8 9 and 10 for Iorwen?

8. Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

Iorwen has trained with guns a little, but she’s not what I’d call skilled with them. Better with a gun than with a bow, but she prefers to fight in close range and has a particular fondness for blades (really, the innuendo just writes itself :3) and daggers especially. She’s only ever shot at practice dummies or on target ranges, never at a live target.

9. Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

much different. she grew up in a Ket fishing village, Drummond’s Point. Her life was simple but comfortable; she always had enough to eat and clothes to wear, but it certainly wasn’t a life of luxury.

and then of course she lost her village at 13, which I would still consider “growing up” and then she had nothing for a long time. she did study at the Veiled Circle for a few years, which was at least a community and a roof over her head, but she still was essentially homeless and continued to be until she joined the Shepherds.

now she has a home and a family and a steady paycheck. it’s stability and safety the likes of which she hasn’t had in fourteen years. she has enough money to buy her friends gifts! people value her, as a person and as a leader and as a companion! both her opinion and her company are highly regarded, she has people she cares about that care about her in return! this is the lap of luxury, by her standards. 

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

definitely more. Iorwen dresses in layers. a shirt and leggings under her armor, then two or three more shirts over it, then a cloak or coat on top. no one would know at a glance how much of her figure is clothing and how much is her, so people assume she’s a lot bigger than she is. she also hides quite a few weapons among her clothing for safety. (it also meant she needed to carry less bags while she was living on the road because most of her wardrobe was on her back)

the first time the Shepherds see her in her official armor without all the extra stuff over it would have definitely caused a double-take or two. there’s a lot less of her than people assume there is :P

[haledamage]

22 & 23 for iorwen emroth and 16 & 24 for maia peg'asi

for Iorwen:

22.  What does your character like in other people?

Iorwen likes people that stand up for others, that try to help in whatever way they can. Bolder is better, which is why she and Trouble are thick as thieves from day one, but she doesn’t have a problem with people like Shery or Riel who are more subtle or risk-averse in their caring. 

She likes a sense of humor, and is more likely to spend time with and be attracted to people that make her laugh (yes, that includes Blade; no one is more surprised by that than him, I think, but she loves his subtle humor)

She likes loyalty most of all. There is nothing anyone could say that means more to her than “I’m here for you.”

23.  What does your character dislike in other people?

It seems like an obvious thing, but she doesn’t like racism. She doesn’t like discrimination of any kind, really, but now that she’s a Shepherd and has a little bit of immunity from persecution, she no longer has any patience for anti-Diminished attitudes and will call that shit out if she witnesses it--whether it be pointed at herself or at others.

She doesn’t like selfishness. She understands that sometimes people have to do some terrible things to survive, but people that put more value in what they have than what they can do with it, or people that put material possessions above human life are never going to find a friend in her.

for Maia:

16. Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

Happiness. Success isn’t something she ever really considered before, since she was born into privilege. She’s thinking about it more lately, of course, but... well, what’s the point of success if it doesn’t lead to happiness? Are you ever really successful if you aren’t happy? 

24. How quick is your character to trust someone else?

Too quick. Probably it has a lot to do with how sheltered she was growing up and how desperate she is to be liked and to have friends, but Vexx is really proof enough of how willing she is to trust. Even after she learned what he did, she’s still trying to help him, she still thinks of him as her friend no matter how many times he proves she shouldn’t. 

[haledamage]

Escape, Law, Pistol, and Vice for Iorwen!

Escape :: What do they do to destress? How successful is it?

she likes to climb up to the highest point she can reasonably reach or sit on the battlements surrounding the Shepherds compound and watch the stars. it’s relatively secluded, which is a gift in a big city like Haven, and really the only people who ever join her regularly are Tallys (who craves the quiet just as much), Trouble (who will sometimes stand near her perch and share a smoke), or Chase (for whom bothering Iorwen and climbing on roofs are two of his favorite things). Sometimes Blade will join her too and just... stand nearby in silent solidarity, which is nice (they never talk about it, ever (unless they’re in a romance, in which case he’s more likely to put an arm around her and pull her close instead of just standing nearby))

how successful it is depends heavily on what time of year it is and what she’s trying to destress from. it’s more effective in the autumn and winter because she likes the cold, and also it’s not as useful for Big Stress as it is for the little daily things that build up. Iorwen either hasn’t realized it yet or is trying to ignore it, but it’s actually much more effective when one of her friends is with her than when she does it alone.

Law :: What do they think about abiding rules? Are they selective about it?

she’s very selective about what rules she follows. I’d put her firmly in the Chaotic Good camp. on the one hand, she will readily and willingly follow orders if they come from someone she respects, though never blindly. on the other hand, she studied magic illegally at an illegal hidden Mage school of which her oldest friend is currently Archmage, and one of her best friends (or potentially her boyfriend, depending on which route she’s on) is the leader of the Thieves Guild, so some rules are definitely made to be broken.

Pistol :: Is this character skilled with a weapon? What’s their opinion of violence?

she is very skilled with a blade (/wink), be it sword or knife or axe or whatever. she has a particular fondness for daggers and knives, and keeps a frankly absurd number of them hidden on her person at any given time.

Iorwen sees violence as a means to an end. she doesn’t shy away from it, but she doesn’t really seek it out either. it’s very much the way she’s survived as long as she has and the way she makes a living, but she is, at her heart, a healer. I think if she could put down her daggers and dedicate herself to keeping her friends safe and healthy she’d do it in a heartbeat.

Vice :: What bad habits do they have? Is there something they would be ashamed of?

she smokes charch sometimes, though really only if it’s offered to her. it’s one of the few vices Mages are allowed to indulge in, but she doesn’t indulge often.

she has a habit of leaning against walls/tables/chairs instead of sitting down, though I don’t know if that’s a bad habit necessarily. she just doesn’t like to stay still or get too comfortable unless she’s in a place she knows she’s safe, just in case.

most of the others would say her worst habit is encouraging Red. They’re old friends (they went to school together) and she’s one of the few people who doesn’t interrupt him on his big nerdy lectures. Mostly she likes his lectures, she learns a lot of things from him, and sometimes they actually turn into debates or brainstorming sessions where the two of them bounce ideas off each other. It can lead to some really cool discoveries and/or friendly arguments, but woe be to anyone who has to be in the room with them.

I don’t think she’s really ashamed of any of her habits. she’s not really ashamed of much except her sleep problems, and even then only because she doesn’t want people to know how often she has nightmares. she’s pretty content with who she is and figures if someone else has a problem, that’s their problem not hers.