#kenralie

[candies-and-sparkles]

tbh i think oralie should've stabbed fintan atleast once and curse at him

[stunning-mess]

kenralie is the it couple argue with the wall

[bookwyrminspiration]

For prompts “ hey, i know it’s really late, but... i didn’t know who else to call. “ or “how did you even get sick? you look ugly. come here.” as Kenric and Oralie?

Guess who's back at the dialogue prompts! It's me. This ask is rather old, so I don't know if you're still around, but if you are: I hope you enjoy, as they were quite sweet to write <3

ill-advised indulgences <- ao3 link

warnings: mild sickness

word count: 5.1k

Councillor Oralie didn’t enjoy midnight hails under the best of circumstances, and mere hours--if that--away from finishing a project that’d been bothering her for weeks was many things, but it was not the best of circumstances.

“Yes?” she sighed, unable to completely hide her irritation and knowing it was absolutely unprofessional of her; she hadn’t even bothered to look at the screen. The others would have her back in etiquette trainings without hesitation if they caught her like this.

“Hey, I know it’s really late, but... I didn’t know who else to call.”

She straightened in spite of herself, furious at the blush she felt spreading across her cheeks. But even stronger than the heat was the confusion.

“Kenric?”

“Forgotten me already, Ora?”

When she looked to the screen, she couldn’t see a hint of his soft, elegant features--not even an awkward corner angle.

Only stars, twinkling bright across her screen as she held it close in her palm.

“Why are you hailing? Is something wrong?” What was he even doing up in the middle of the night? He should be long asleep by now--just as she should’ve been, but she ignored that.

Something rustled, and his voice followed--low, like a sigh. “No, nothing’s wrong. Don’t worry your pretty head about it. I just…need a hand, and you’re less likely to be upset with me than any of the others for disturbing you so late. Or at least I thought you would be--that was quite a cold greeting.” He tried for light, but something in his voice strained and it fell flat.

“I’m sorry--you caught me in the middle of something; it was rude of me. What do you need help with?” The sleeve of her dress had slipped, and she pushed it back up her arm to have something to do, then tucked a straying ringlet back behind her ear. She couldn’t remember if she’d looked in a mirror that morning, and she wasn’t willing to admit to herself why she suddenly cared.

“Can you come to Siren Rock?” he asked, and she blinked.

“What are you doing at Siren Rock? Your Universe homework? If you’ve forgotten it, I think it’s a little too late to make it up.” She couldn’t help the laugh in her throat and smile on her lips, because it was such a ridiculous place for a councillor to be. People only went to Siren Rock for mediocre stargazing, or to appease their Mentors with proof they could passably bottle starlight.

Her laugh cut off as he answered, “Yes, actually.” He sounded amused.

“You’ve lost me,” she admitted. And yet she found herself trying to remember where she’d set her pathfinder; surely it was somewhere amid all these papers.

Still not showing his face, he explained. “It’s part of a…classified assignment. I was supposed to be working on it myself, bottling quintessence, but the quantity is more than I can manage. I can’t see straight enough to even guess where the right stars are anymore.”

“You’re bottling quintessence?” There it was, on the floor next to her desk; she must’ve bumped it off and hadn’t noticed amid the rest of the mess she’d made.

“From Phosforien and Marquiseire, yes. Can you help? It’s alright if you can’t, I’ll ask one of the others.”

“No!” The word burst out with more force than she intended, and she had to clear her throat before continuing. “I’ve already set my pathfinder. Do I need to bring anything, or is it just me you need?”

“Just you, Ora.” Then he added, “Make sure to bring a warm cloak, I don’t want you to get cold.”

“I’ll be right there,” she promised, ending the hail and turning from her project with a small pang of regret. She’d built such momentum, but it’d been doomed the moment she answered the hail. She could never say no to Kenric.

Except when it came to the one topic neither of them dared breath a word about.

~

The chill slipped around the edges of her thick rose cloak as Oralie glittered into the dark of Siren Rock, the uneven earth illuminated by the silvered moonlight creeping across it, the waves pulsing against the cliff’s edge and filling the air with salt.

It didn’t take her long to find Kenric, who lay back against the hard ground with his eyes closed. A stellarscope lay forgotten beside him, alongside a case of quintessence, almost full of bright bottles.

Unnerved, she moved to the other side of him; that much quintessence simply sitting there? Kenric was oh so careful, but the substance was too unpredictable to ever be safe.

And yet here she was.

“Kenric?” she asked, uncertain. He hadn’t moved, even though she certainly hadn’t been quiet.

The hand on his chest twitched, and his bright eyes found hers.

They looked…tired.

“Ora,” he answered, and it was as if a mask descended over him. Gone were the lines and exhaustion, now he smiled gently up as her, pushing to a sitting position. “Don’t worry over me--I see that crease in your brow. I was only resting my head to try and ease the blurriness.”

His smile widened, that crooked one that always made her heart beat twice as fast, but she didn’t believe him. “Did it work?”

He shook his head. “You’re all smudges--which is a shame. You have a lovely face.”

Now that it wasn’t through an imparter, there was definitely something wrong with his voice. Too thick? Too deep? Too worn?

And then she remembered she was supposed to say something back. “How many bottles do you have left?”

Something crossed his face she couldn’t identify, and she wanted to reach out to brush skin and feel exactly what it was. But she didn’t, and Kenric sat up straighter, entirely unaware of how his hair stuck out at the back from his repose as he turned to count.

“Four more--can you handle that?”

In spite of her concern, she scowled as indignation sparked. “Of course I can handle four bottles. I’m not fragile.”

“Of course you can,” Kenric agreed, running a hand through the copper of his hair--he wasn’t wearing his circlet, she realized. And he didn’t have a cape--didn’t he feel the cold? She could even through the thick fabric of her cape.

In the silence that fell, she stepped around him to pick the stellarscope up from where he’d left it; his hand reached toward it a moment later, as though he was going to get it for her, but had moved too slowly, and practically flinched away as he nearly bumped her arm.

Awkwardly retracting his hand, he blinked up at her. They were level, but only as she bent down; he’d stayed on the ground since she’d arrived, and it couldn’t be comfortable. She could see the flecks of green in the blue of his eyes, the lashes framing them as the red of his hair fell over his brow, the creases around his eyes, and the stars reflected in his pupils.

She realized she’d frozen looking at them, and heat bloomed deep in her chest.

“Phosforien and Marquiseire, correct?” She grabbed the accompanying bottling gloves, donning them as she straightened, hoping the slight distance would clear her head, that the chill of the night would wash away the flush she could feel spreading against her will.

It didn’t. If anything, the few feet between them intensified the charge as she stood over him reciting all the reasons she shouldn’t and couldn’t.

Kenric needed a moment as well, and his breath came heavy as he nodded. “Two of each, please.”

Oralie nodded, re-tucking that same stray ringlet back as she searched the sky; she’d called up her memories of the unmapped stars as she’d grabbed her cape, wanting to be prepared--if they could even be called her memories, since they’d been implanted in her head by a mind much sharper than hers when she’d accepted her circlet.

With careful precision she searched through the stellarscope, checking thrice she’d calibrated correctly before flicking the switch and filling the bottle she’d loaded.

The other three went just as smoothly, the only sound her roaring pulse as she worked; Kenric sat behind her--he’d asked if she’d minded, as he didn’t want to stand too soon and undo all the progress he’d made re-orienting himself; of course she hadn’t minded.

She tried her damndest not to squirm, even though she swore she could feel his eyes tearing bits and pieces of her away and draining her very essence.

Blinking away a heady flash of light with the final bottle of quintessence, she carefully placed all four into Kenric’s compartmentalized satchel alongside the other ten. Each divided section was thoroughly padded to keep the bottles from bumping together and increasing the risk of explosion.

As she crouched, resolutely not looking at him, her cape shifted. A cold breeze coiled around her and she shuddered, goosebumps raising on her arms as it washed over her so thoroughly it left her senses entirely blank.

And with it, her focus sharpened.

She’d been trying so hard not to be aware of him, she’d missed the signs--even though she’d known the moment he called something was wrong.

It wasn’t his eyes on her back she’d felt creeping and draining--or at least not entirely.

“You’re unwell,” she said, turning her head to look at him. And suddenly it was obvious--the shadows beneath his eyes and the flat line of his mouth, the heavy breaths and low voice, the fact the most he’d moved was to sit up when she’d arrived.

How he’d needed her to complete his starlight bottling, already entirely unable to see when there’d been hardly a dozen in the bag.

She could see him forming the defense in his mind, and sure enough, “It’s just a headache, Ora. A long day and intense starbottling. I appreciate your concern, but don’t worry your pretty head about it..”

Oralie scowled back. “Don’t patronize me. I can feel it, even from here.” She eyed the space between them.

She was a talented Empath--but she was valuable for her stellar interpreting abilities upon contact, not for being able to take readings without it.

If she could feel the bone deep weariness through the air…

“When will you learn you can’t lie to an empath?” she asked, shaking her head. And a sort of recklessness surged through her. “How did you even get sick? You look ugly. Come here.”

She lowered herself near him, the cold rock startling even through her clothes as she unfastened her cloak.

“Ora, you don’t--”

“You’ve lost your mind if you think I’m going to let you sit there in the cold when you’re sick.” She shrugged off the cloak, and Kenric only mildly protested as she wrapped it tight around his neck--if she’d needed any more proof that he wasn’t himself, that was it.

The thick gradient pink fabric shimmered under the moonlight, embroidered with roses and lilies and entirely at odds with Kenric’s simple color-blocked attire. But he sagged ever so slightly beneath it anyways, reaching up to clasp it tighter around his neck as her warmth seeped into him.

He looked to her then, and raised a brow. “Did you say I looked ugly? Is it really that bad?”

And even though it was the middle of the night and goosebumps had started to erupt on her arm, and his discomforted exhaustion pulled at her very core, she flushed.

“I didn’t--”

He laughed, and it made obvious the thick crackle in his throat. “Relax, Ora. I’m only teasing. I know I’ve looked better.” He sat forward off his hand to rub it over his eyes, grimacing.

She wanted to argue for some reason, but…he wasn’t wrong.

A faint gleam of sweat had broken across his brow, and his fingers trembled where they held the cloak close at his neck.

“I’m taking you home,” she told him, making up her mind right there. He furrowed his brow, so she continued. “You have your quintessence--surely whatever it’s for can wait at least until morning, if not for a day or two for you to recover. I insist--I don’t want you handling anything potentially disastrously explosive when you can hardly see straight!”

Kenric shook his head slowly as she retrieved her pathfinder from her pocket, gloves making her fingers slip before she removed them as she began to adjust it for the coordinates she knew better than any other.

“That’s kind of you, Ora, but it’s unnecessary.” He began to unfasten the cloak, but she stopped him by pushing the satchel of quintessence into his lap alongside the stellarscope and gloves. He tried again. “I’ll manage, and you have better things to do than worry about me.”

“You don’t know that,” she shot back, successfully clicking the pathfinder into place and reaching for him; she made sure to touch only fabric, but even so the feeling of his sickness washed over her. “Concentrate--I don’t want to lose you.”

“Ora--” he began, but shut off and did as she asked as she held the crystal to the light, casting a beam over them to draw them away; she’d done it that way so he wouldn’t have a choice--either concentrate and go with her, or get drawn into the light for eternity.

Not that she would’ve ever let that happen to him; her concentration had been wrapped around him even tighter than around herself.

From the intent way he stared at her, brow furrowed, as they reappeared, for a moment she wondered if he’d been doing the same thing. The fool.

“Thank you for being so cooperative,” she told him, and he laughed again, softer.

Kenric began pushing to his feet, and despite the nausea and headache that’d pounded through her when she was only touching the cloak, she reached to help him in spite of herself.

She flinched when their hands touched, and he must’ve noticed, for he pulled away quick once he was steady as he could be.

He looked around at the castles towering over them, the arranged rocks that made up his front yard; they’d materialized on the path towards his door.

“You’re adorably stubborn,” he remarked as she turned to lead the way; she had no worries about him not following now. What else was he going to do? Walk away from her?

Sure enough, his footsteps followed behind as she opened his door--but they fell heavy and shuffling, and he was attempting to hide a grimace when she turned back to look at him. And then they stopped, and she peered over her shoulder to see him still at the bottom of the steps, staring at them.

It took a moment before she figured out the problem. “Oh, you’re ridiculous.”

She didn’t allow herself time to cringe away or hesitate as she alighted down the steps and linked her arm with his, taking some of his weight.

“Ora, you should go home,” he tried, but she wasn’t hearing it.

“You can hardly stand and you want me to leave you alone?” she hissed, jaw tight against the malaise flooding her. A cacophony of hurts and aches bruising inside her ribs, pressing foul heat against her heart, throbbing in her fingertips. She refused to let it win. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

“Never, when it comes to you.” The words were like a sigh as he let them slip and leaned against her, giving in.

She decided not to try and decipher what that meant as she led him inside and was faced with where, exactly, to put him.

The stairs would be unwise with his trembling even though his bedroom was up there, so she turned instead towards his greeting room.

The plush cushions were where he’d meet guests and visitors from the population, if he wasn’t always so busy with such random errands--what on earth could he need so much quintessence for?

She deposited him on the cushions, guilty at the relief it was to no longer feel his symptoms as she pulled away to seek out remedies. She was almost entirely out of the room before realizing she’d forgotten an important step

“Have you taken anything already?” she asked, all business as the most ludicrous pang had her wanting to touch him again. To feel his flushed heat, even as dizziness washed through her.

Kenric took a moment to reply, and when she looked back over at him he’d hunched; his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose tight, brow crunched intensely and mouth a thin, pale line.

He started and straightened as he realized she was still there, still watching.

As though he’d been allowing himself a moment of weakness, one she wasn’t meant to see.

“Ah…no,” he admitted, and had the wisdom to look sheepish, so she didn’t say anything as she turned away again to allow him his reprieve.

He thanked her politely upon her return, leaning back against the couch and more composed as he downed the few elixirs she’d brought. Simple things, but hopefully enough to tide him over until she could convince him to see a physician.

But she knew trying now would be fruitless, and she didn’t want to waste his energy when he clearly had so little--he may have been able to fool the others, but he was most assuredly not fooling her.

She’d watched him too closely for too many centuries.

And she realized with a start as he cleared his throat that she was doing it again.

“I’ll make you some tea,” she offered, searching for the first possible thing she could think of to break the silence.

Kenric had taken off her cloak now that they were inside, and shook his head again. “Truly, Ora. I’m fine--you’ve done more than enough tonight. Don’t let me bother you any longer and go home--you need to rest.”

It took her a moment to respond, but only because she almost couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “You’re telling me to rest?” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest.

He tried again. “I know you always want to help--”

“Then shut up and let me.”

“I--”

“No!” she cut him off. “When you hail me in the middle of the night for help, you don’t get to suddenly take that back! You should’ve known I’d realize you were sick when you decided to hail me--that one’s on you. Now I’m going to get you a cup of tea, because it’s cold out and your voice sounds horrendous, if you’re done complaining that I’m doing what you asked.”

“That’s not fair, Ora,” he protested, moving as if to get up.

“No, it’s not,” she agreed. “And don’t even think about moving.”

She fumed silently as she turned on her heel, that damned ringlet falling into her face again as she made for his kitchen. She was never looking for a fight with him, but he always managed to poke and prod and rile her up in the most mundane of ways.

She took a few calming breaths as she set the water to heat, and it was starting to work--until she heard footsteps from the greeting room.

Indignant again, she rounded the corner back to him, ready to scold him.

He beat her to it, pausing in the hall with a hand on the wall. “I’m only going for a shower--unless that’s not allowed?” He raised a brow as he said it, a challenging look of amusement on his pallid face.

It brought her up short, and she blanked for a moment. “Of--of course that’s allowed. I’ll just...I’ll be down here,” she finished inelegantly as those green-flecked eyes teased hers.

“If you insist--I do love your company,” he said, maddeningly, as he continued to the stairs; the elixirs must’ve been taking effect, for he seemed to manage without too much trouble.

And then she flushed as he disappeared from sight, realizing she’d been staring at him again.

The night must’ve been getting to her.

The momentum of her now long-forgotten project had pushed her through, and then the rush of Kenric’s hail and the chill of Siren Rock.

But now, warm and unhurried in Kenric’s home, lethargy began to tug at her.

Water turned on overhead, and she had to fight a tingling feeling along her skin as she realized he was, right that moment, undressed just a flight above her.

Shocked by the direction of her own thoughts, she shoved them away and returned to the kitchen, deciding she could use a cup of her own to reorient herself.

She’d just tentatively taken a first sip, hoping it’d cooled enough not to burn her tongue, when Kenric had walked back in.

Stilling, she watched the water drip from the spikes of freshly washed hair, his skin now soft and dewy instead of damp and sweaty--though his color had only marginally improved. Still too wan, still lined, bags under his eyes even more prominent under the kitchen’s crystal lights than the moon’s soft glow.

His clothes stuck to his skin and bunched slightly, and relief flooded her as she saw the simple house attire; he wasn’t planning on leaving again.

Unless he was going to try and get rid of her before he changed and went out…

“Like what you see?” he teased as he took the other cup of tea still beside her on the counter, the one she’d prepared for him.

Her face heated as she scowled, and she tucked that stray ringlet away again. “You really should lie down--you’re exhausted. I can see it in how you move.”

His smile lessened, and he sighed before he took a sip. “You truly won’t let this go, will you?”

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

He leaned against the counter beside her, and something flickered through the malaise electric in the air between them--too quick for her to pick it up, but enough to have her on alert.

Turning, he searched her face, and she may as well have been laid bare for how much she was certain he saw. “I mean, Oralie, that you don’t need to stay. You’ve done more than enough for me already--you always do. But it’s late, and you must be exhausted. I can manage myself--I’ll listen to you, and I’ll take the night off. And I’ll even talk to Elwin in the morning. I’ve disturbed you enough for one evening.”

His voice remained low, his eyes still on hers, making it difficult to understand what he was saying.

And then it registered. She straightened, stiff. “I see I’ve overimposed myself. My apologies for not realizing--I won’t keep you from…whatever it is you need to keep from me any longer.”

She set the half-empty mug down that she’d forgotten she’d been holding, and turned away, ignoring the ache in her throat.

“That’s not--” Kenric started, but she cut him off.

“Then what is it, Kenric?” The defeated words burned, dangerously close to everything they weren’t allowed to talk about as she ached. “You say one thing and mean a million other and expect me to be able to parse it out? You say you want my help, and then send me away at the first opportunity. I find you barely able to see on the ground, and you worry if I can handle four bottles. What do you want?”

Silence fell for a heavy moment in the wake of her outburst, swallowing heavily; she was still looking at the door.

“Oralie,” he said, and she knew he was asking her to turn.

She didn’t.

“Oralie,” a plea. “Look at me.”

She wouldn’t.

And then footsteps, and he walked in front of her frozen pose.

Despite herself, she looked to him as he stopped in front of her, his hands reaching.

He hesitated a moment away from her hands, the open skin, but then he moved. Gentle over the fabric, he placed them over her arms, holding his breath as she flinched.

The elixirs had dulled the worst of it, but he wouldn’t be better without time.

“I’m sorry,” he began, quiet, earnest. “I didn’t mean it that way--I never meant to upset you. You can feel I’m telling the truth.” He was. “You’re too good to me, Oralie, you know? You’re so kind, and genuine, and helpful. I don’t want to take advantage of that--I’ll be alright, so I don’t want you wasting your goodness on me when you could be putting it into so many better things.”

“You asked me for help,” she reminded him, voice just as quiet.

“I did.”

“Then why are you trying so hard to push me away?”

She’d fought with him on practically every account since he hailed--even though he’d hailed her. Knowing she was capable and still trying to protect her, knowing he was unwell and unable and yet still trying to do whatever he could alone.

It was enough mixed signals, and it was late enough she could hardly bear their usual dance.

Her next question ached against her tongue. “Do you want me to go? Truly.”

Kenric’s eyes, which had been searching her face this whole time, fell closed. Pained.

He drew a breath, water still dripping from his damp hair, and confessed.

“No.”

The truth of the words rang through her where he still held her. And with it, all her anger drained, leaving only desolate longing she didn’t want to think about.

His fingers tightened around her arms, and he repeated it with a shake in his voice. “No, I quite like it when you stay.”

She knew how close they were pushing to things they shouldn’t talk about, and yet still she reached a hand to rest on his outstretched arm, bracing for the feelings.

She let them wash past her, passing her by without picking them up.

She shouldn’t, couldn’t.

She wanted to.

“No one would blame you for wanting company in your condition.” Her voice felt too light as she created the lifeline, an offer, an impossibility. Something they shouldn’t allow themselves, but that she longed for. Desperately.

And he wanted it too, so much it stole her breath.

“Of course they wouldn’t,” he agreed, slowly, the two of them watching themselves walk over the edge of a cliff they’d never return from. “I might do something unwise, after all.”

She could see it happening, knew this was her last chance to stop this mistake.

And yet she said, “We wouldn’t want that, of course.”

All there was left to do was enjoy the fall, before they hit the ground.

His hands loosened around her, slipping slightly as he exhaled, the weight of what they hadn’t said settling. Permanent.

And as her heart pounded, she damned them further.

She reached a hand out, tracing her fingers along his cheek and furrowing her brow at the heat. “I meant it when I said you should rest.”

And it was as if they both decided to never say a word about what they’d chosen for this night, the indulgence never to be acknowledged again.

“You always know best,” he agreed, leaning into it. His eyes fell closed and his brow softened, and they stood a moment longer.

“Come,” she said, fingertips light as she gently pulled. “Let’s get you settled.”

He followed as she led him up the stairs, past the still-steamy bathroom and to the living quarters she’d only been in a few times before.

They both winced when she snapped the lights on, and she quickly dimmed them.

Kenric’s sheepish embarrassment washed through her as she took in the state of the place; he’d been trying and not quite succeeding for years at keeping his personal space and his work space separate, and scrolls cluttered a significant portion of every surface available.

The bedspread was rumpled and bunched, left from however he’d rolled out of bed that morning--and he quite possibly had rolled, given that even stronger than the embarrassment was the mounting exhaustion.

She had no clue how he’d been able to push himself through the day.

She paid no attention to the mess as she drew them in further--she tried her best not to look at anything, not wanting to know.

Kenric said nothing as she let go of him, moving to the windows and propping them slightly.

Chill air slipped over her skin, a welcome relief from the staleness the walls had captured.

Without her prompting, Kenric had laid down--atop the covers, but laying down nonetheless. The bed seemed to swallow everything but the fevered brightness of his eyes as he watched her, but even as she watched, his eyelids started to flutter.

For some reason, it made her aware of how lopsided and frazzled her quick bun had become, so she reached up to untangle the tie and set it loose.

Kenric made a small noise, almost a hum. He lifted his hand then, an invitation.

Her heart stopped in her chest, and something in her screamed at them to stop, reminded her of just how much they weren’t allowed to want this.

But she took it anyway, and lowered herself to sit on his bed.

He was nearly asleep already, the poor thing. But still he whispered, “Thank you, Ora.”

She didn’t ask what he was referring to.

And as his eyes closed, she could’ve sworn they flickered to her lips, and a wave of…something, pulsed where they still touched. Too abstract and encompassing even for her to translate.

So she didn’t let herself try, dreading when they’d hit the ground.

She just let his hand hold hers, and watched his breathing settle as he stopped fighting himself.

And in that moment, she’d never been further from him.

Sitting on his bed, watching the lines of his face smooth and feeling the peace settling through him where they touched. Alone together with cool night air filling her lungs, everything she could not have prickled in the back of her mind.

The pillow was wet from his hair, and she wanted--oh, how she wanted--to trace the edge of his jaw, the line of his registry pendant over the smooth skin of his neck, to press her hand to his chest and feel his heartbeat. Reminding her over and over with its rhythm that he was alive, alive, alive.

But she couldn’t.

She wouldn’t do that to him--or to herself. To the countless people who needed her kindness to challenge the others’ fear and haste.

So she didn’t move, only breathed.

And tried to absorb every moment of this foolish, beautiful indulgence before it was gone.

[svtellify]

One relationship I find greatly underrated is Kenric and Oralie. Yeah at first their relationship seemed like a footnote in the story but I love how Shannon develops their relationship in the later books, especially Stellarlune.

(Spoilers Ahead)

When we finally open Kenric's cache we see him go through the different stages of his life and his relationship with Oralie.

It wasn't love at first sight for them, quite the opposite. Neither of them got along with each other. Both had valid reasons, Kenric pointing out Oralie's personal ambition getting in the way of doing the right decisions. (A trait we still see in her today) And Oralie angry at how he underestimates her and prevents her from doing her job.

I don't know if it's just me but their argument seemed to have mirrored a lover's quarrel. There's a tinge of attraction between them.

Eventually they come to respect one another. Both realizing that their loathing was a way to cope with the attraction they had for one another. Which was totally plausible because the council forbids it's members from falling in love or having children. A romantic connection towards anyone could risk their position. So it's better to avoid them.

But once they become friends, once that lavender haze begins to creep through it's impossible for them to avoid their feelings. It's inevitable for them to make the choice. love or duty.

Kenric had served for many years in the council already. He's seen all and is disillusioned by it. He's ready to settle down, but not without the woman he loves.

Oralie wants to be with him but project moonlark prevented her from fulfilling that dream. Sophie needed allies if she were going to survive. Say what you want about Oralie but she sacrificed alot for Black Swan, for Sophie.

So their hopes for a relationship is crushed. The story constantly makes us think of what could have been if they chose each other. They were both each other's number one match. What if they got married? What if they started a family? Because it's all we have left; the "what if's"

Because that chance is gone. Kenric is gone. All Oralie has right now are memories.

I think that's greatly depressing.

Closing thoughts: I think they're a foil of Keefe and Sophie. Both couples balanced each other out. And both have solid reasons for them not to be together.

Thanks for reading my ted talk if you haven't skimmed to the end.

oh my god yes. yes yes yes.

sophie and keefe are probably the most painful relationship oralie witnesses because it's literally kenric and oralie - if things had gone right. i do have my little theories about keefe spending time as a councillor in the future, and those are even stronger if sophitz were the endgame, but i fully believe oralie would talk them out of it if it meant not being together. not because i believe she regrets her time with kenric, but the way events unraveled.

you said it perfectly - it's not love at first sight. we see a little more affection from kenric because he sees that ambition in oralie and he's coming from a place of experience when he talks to her - this isn't identical for sokeefe, but it's similar in the sense that sophie is more drawn to duty and keefe to instinct. i'd argue that yeah, sophitz and sokeefe are the head and the heart theory, but also sophie and keefe are the head and the heart. and in stellarlune, we see that kind of switch, with keefe taking huge steps back and sophie running forward.

which, i assume, is what oralie would do if she had a second chance with kenric. it's even harder for her because for all she sacrificed for project moonlark and the council, she doesn't really get to reap the benefits from it.

(part of me also wonders if shannon's going to somehow make kenric sophie's dad, just so oralie can have a kid with the man she loved somehow - idk if that would hurt more or less, but there's no other alternative for her dad that i can think of other than alden and that's wrong on so many levels, so.)

"all oralie has are memories." no bc this hurts. it's true and it hurts, and it should, because it's clearly a glaring warning for all the kids - treasure your time. it's a little ominous too, and it makes me wonder if we're going to see another major character death soon. or some kind of actual betrayal by choice and not like with keefe and tam.

(my money's on fitz killing someone because alvar's words keep sticking with me and there is something terrifying about knowing that he stopped pressing buttons and was ready for and wanted his brother to die. but i could be wrong.)

i agree that both couples have reasons to not be together, but i'd almost argue that those are the very reasons they should be together. almost as an extreme example - like, if they can beat all the odds, then so can anyone else. but inversely; if they can't beat the odds, then what chance do any of us have? i am biased bc i love keefe so much, but i do agree that i don't think they should be together - not yet.

but with the state of affairs, if not now, then when?

[an-ungraceful-swan]

@axels-corner I was your secret Santa! I’m really sorry if you didn’t want angst because I saw Kenralie, thought celebrity au and then suddenly this happened so hopefully it’s enjoyable??

@song-tam

For everyone else here’s a one shot of a celebrity au that was really meant to be not super angsty and then became this. So read if you enjoy things like that?

[cogaytes]

kenralie are t4t thank you for coming to my ted talk

[hsjsjisjs]

Oralie Fanart

[maxsrainbowsheets]

i wanted to do a kotlc ship bracket. i’ve seen other ppl doing them so i thought it would be fun

here’s the tier bracket i made, sorry there aren’t all of them but i tried to get the most popular ones

[you-have-been-frizzled]

What do you think of Kenric / Oralie?

This was sent the day before stellarlune came out, and I was going to write a angsty friends to lovers one shot

But come to find out their story was very different than I imagined so I never ended up finishing it

Now I can honestly tell you when I first read the series I was obsessed with them, even after my sister gave me a heads up about Kenrics death.

But over the years it kinda fizzled out and while I liked their story I was more interested in other characters Kesline. That was until I found out about @official-kenralie-fanbase fic about them, and that started to slowly get me back into them

But the Koralie brain rot didn’t take me over until Gail and I started to brainstorm the Prisoner Kenric Au, and now it’s pretty much taken over my mind and is second place to Kesline

[official-kenralie-fanbase]

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates! And if you don't, I hope you're having a great weekend :D Here's a very short Kenralie Christmas-themed drabble, I hope you enjoy it!

(And Chapter Nine of Perfect Match will likely be out tomorrow to everyone following along!)

The ballroom at Havenfield was crowded, full of elves milling about in their finest clothes. Several gnomes had brought in trees, decorating them with colorful garlands and ornamentation. “Christmas” was apparently a human holiday, but Grady and Edaline Ruewen had decided to introduce some of the customs to the elves. There were presents in wrapped boxes under the trees, decorated treats on every one of the tables, and a delicious drink called hot chocolate. 

Councillor Kenric and Councillor Oralie were milling around the ballroom together, taking everything in. Neither of them had ever heard of Christmas before, but it certainly made for a fun gathering. 

“I like this,” Kenric decided, taking a drink from his hot chocolate. 

“You always judge everything by your taste buds, don’t you?” Oralie said with a laugh, though she had to admit it was delicious. 

“I can’t think of a better judge,” Kenric admitted, giving her a grin. 

The two of them stopped at the end of the room, in the doorway toward the hall. Kenric sighed contentedly, taking the last sip of his hot chocolate. “The humans had a lot of great ideas when it comes to this Christmas thing,” he said. “Especially the food.” 

Oralie was about to agree when their conversation was interrupted by a giggle. The two of them turned around to see Jolie, the Ruewens' 10-year-old daughter, standing with her friend Brant. 

“You’re standing under the mistletoe,” she commented, pointing to the plant hanging above their head. 

“So we are,” Kenric replied, looking up. “And what does that mean?” 

“It means you’re s’posed to kiss,” Brant told them, barely able to hold his giggles. 

Kenric and Oralie both froze, staring at each other with widened eyes. 

“It’s a human tradition,” Jolie explained. “You have to kiss someone if you both are under the mistletoe.” 

She and Brant both watched them intently, holding their breaths in anticipation.

Kenric chuckled slightly. "Well, we can't disappoint the daughter of our hosts," he said, raising his eyebrows.

"I suppose not," Oralie replied, her heart beating faster than she would have liked to admit.

After looking around to make sure they weren't being watched by anyone but the two kids, Kenric leaned forward, pausing with a few inches of space between them. He was waiting for her to close the gap. After a brief second of hesitation, Oralie gently pressed her lips against his, light as a feather.

The kiss barely lasted a second, but it was enough to send delightful shivers all through her body.

They broke apart, both of them grinning and blushing. Brant and Jolie both applauded, their delightful smiles breaking Kenric and Oralie from the moment.

"For the record," Kenric said, waggling his finger at the kids. "We're just friends."

"But we have to follow the tradition," Oralie added. But she couldn't ignore how much she'd liked the feeling of his lips on hers.

"Well, I'm satisfied." Jolie grabbed Brant's hand, pulling him away, inevitably to find another pair of victims to catch under the mistletoe.

"It's a strange tradition," Kenric said with a laugh. "But we couldn't disappoint Jolie. Even if we are Councillors."

"Even if we are Councillors," Oralie repeated, trying to remind herself of the fact. She was an Empath. The sudden feelings running through her that she suspected she'd been smothering for a while shouldn't be confusing her as much as they were.

But she was sure of one thing.

She definitely was a fan of Christmas.

[stunning-mess]

Kenralie + bronte hcs??

one word: YESS!!

they used to play truth and dare every saturday night

bronte was tired of kenric and oralie pretending they didnt like each other

so one game night he dared them to kiss

so that night was their first kiss

bronte left as soon as he gave the dare, not wanting to interrupt anything

even though in their trio it seems like oralie is the mom friend, brontes the one who takes care of them and always looks out for them.

he didnt accept their thanks (for daring them) after they have another game night, saying it was bound to happen.

always protecting kenric and oralie!!

hes the only person who knows they have kissed

HE HAS SPARKLY PINK PAJAMAS ORALIE FORCED HIM TO WEAR I WILL FIGHT SOMEONE ON THIS

he's a coffee drinker, oralies a tea drinker, and everytime they have fights about that kenric has to break them apart.

hes better at monopoly than both of them

he makes really good ripplepuffs, but only kenric and oralie know about them

he only used to have fun with oralie but soon he started including kenric because he saw how much fun oralie had with him.

bronte calls fellow councillors "sparkly dipshits"

[indigothemuse]

🌙  What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?

🌙 What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

later at night! anywhere from 8 pm-2 am. no one else really bothers me! i can just sit in my chair and work!

🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?

characterization, if i don't know them well. like. tiertice is so hard for me to get, just because i dont. know those characters all that well. or its fitting it all together. i LOVE motifs/repetition!! but sometimes it doesnt work/i have to figure out the pieces to slot together

[bookwyrminspiration]

“No!” The word burst out with more force than she intended, and she had to clear her throat before continuing. “I’ve already set my pathfinder. Do I need to bring anything, or is it just me you need?”  “Just you, Ora.”

tee hee I love when lines mean more than one thing <3

[book-lover85]

Kenralie and Sokeefe parallels

Ruedacted and Sokeefe parallels

Grady and Keefe parallels

Sophie and Keefe parallels

[explodes]

[keeper-big-bang-2024]

what if i’ve vaguely discussed the fic idea before on my tumblr? ie the au concept but not the plot/if you know me it would be pretty obvious that it’s my pitch because it matches my style?

I think that's alright! We are more trying to avoid the whole "psst best friend artist! Mine's the Kenralie Star Wars AU with Oralie as Leia and Kenric as Han; rank my pitches highest" type of deliberate thing.