#oc: mererid

[catgirlalchemist]

deep in the green woods, when noon brightens sky

I kept talking about werewolves without actually drawing wolves; no more.

[queenofyumcha]

Impera Brigade OC Hendrik - In the context of the omega Emhyr WIP, Nest of Leathers

Hendrik, House of *redacted* - The youngest Impera Brigadier.

Hendrik is the second son of a minor house, disowned when his loose lips and open candour result in the greatest scandal amongst the Nilfgaardian nobility since the Usurper's coup.*

*This is all according to Mererid, so one might take that with a pinch of salt. The man is known for his dramatics.

In no certain order, the scandal involves Duchess Aep Dahy's prized show dog, an admiral's favourite hat, a young lady of questionable parentage and a young lord related to House Voorhis who was besotted with the aforementioned young lady.

Hendrik insists it was all a terrible misunderstanding. None of the Impera can get him to tell the full story and it isn't from a lack of trying.

In the small hours of the morning, lying side by side, Emhyr manages to coax the story from Hendrik once and only once. That morning, the entirety of the royal wing is prematurely woken by the ferocious howls of laughter coming from their Emperor.

Emhyr laughs so hard, hunched over on himself, that he manages to pull a muscle in his back and has to spend the rest of that day in bed. Which was perhaps fortuitous, because the Emperor continues to laugh until he is sedated.

Ciri spends months trying to get Hendrik to crack and tell her the story. He remains stubbornly silent to the point that she decides it may well be easier to get the story from Emhyr.

It is not.

When asked, Emhyr laughs hysterically until he pulls a muscle in his back again. Mererid unofficially bans the topic of Hendrik's disownment from the Imperial Palace lest the Emperor end up permanently bedridden.

Hendrik's path to the Impera Brigade

Emhyr acknowledges him once during a military skills competition held in the capital city, praising his archery skills. Emhyr mentions off-hand that the only man he believes could parry/evade Hendrik's attacks would be 'the Witcher', and that he was sure the mutagens would give the man an advantage.

Hendrik develops a disdain for Witchers, and a special disdain for whichever Witcher that had managed to catch the omega Emperor's eye and impress him, no less.

Hendrik applies to join the Impera Brigade. He is immediately rejected for his youth, lack of military accomplishments and lack of experience in close-range combat.

On the day of the rejection letter, Hendrik leaves his place as a senior archer in the calvary behind and applies to join the infantry, happily accepting a lower-paid, junior position that is rarely filled by a member of the nobility - no matter that he was disowned, Hendrik's blue-blooded Nilfgaardian accent never leaves him and a number of his new colleagues salute him upon hearing him speak, assuming he is their superior officer.

He applies to join the Impera Brigade so many times that his handwriting is recognisable on sight to the Impera recruitment officers.

After three years of serving in the infantry, Hendrik's successes in battle against Nazairrian highlander clans win him some hard-earned repute amongst his superiors.

Finally, after Nazair is conquered, Hendrik's request is approved. When he joins at 23, he is the youngest officer in the Impera's ranks and his fellow officers never fail to remind him of that.

That compliment, that acknowledgement from the Emperor and that fateful day of their meeting is enshrined in Hendrik's memory and shapes his future.

For Emhyr, it was a Tuesday...

-/-

Hendrik is uncommonly blunt for someone born to the Nilfgaardian nobility. His open honesty is often confused for naivety and many of his superiors have thought him skilled and obedient but not very bright - A perfect soldier.

Emhyr finds his honesty and good-tempered nature rather endearing. A biddable alpha who is happy to take direction from an omega is rare. Emhyr trusts him.

-/-

Hendrik's scent - the blue roses of Nazair and the metallic scent of iron

Emhyr's scent - candied ginger and citrus, when he's upset or stressed, which he almost always is, he smells like burnt sugar and charred lemon peel

When Emhyr is happy or aroused, the scent of the spicy candied ginger is much stronger than the smell of citrus.

[tigerlyla-of-metinna]

A Painting of You (Chapter 23)

The final chapter: Fireworks and Farewells

Emhyr x OC, F/M, Complete Work (finally!) Morvran Voorhis, Mererid, Peter Evertsen, Cinderella-ish, Forbidden Romance, Gardening,(I should put in more tags in the future)

Summary:

Sarah bids farewell and finally breaks this news to Emhyr. He did not take this well and makes an attempt to change her decision.

Notes:

This is the final chapter of A Painting of You. Took me several re-writes and re-reads... and more re-writing. I recommend listening to FF7 Interrupted by Fireworks OST when reading the balcony scene. Helps with feeling the mood of the story. Also the golden dragon firework is inspired by the movie, Lord of The Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring scene where the biggest firework is actually the dragon! The one Merry and Pippin stole.

The cool night breeze made Sarah’s skin tingle, ruffling her hair. She and Emhyr stood against the curved stone balustrade, waiting for the fireworks to start. Thankfully, the night was clear and stars dotted the sky. Not to be outdone by the stars, the moon shone brightly. A full moon.

The damn moon. Damn beacon! He must never know its existence.

Sarah leaned forward, placing her hands on the balustrades cold marble surface while ferreting how to best convey her departure. The wind carried the voices from the nobles below: Sarah couldn’t make out their conversations but from the sound of their laughter, they were excited and impatient for the fireworks to start.

She glanced at Emhyr with her eyes only. He was looking imperiously at the milling nobles on the garden square. The moonlight painted his skin with an ethereal pale blue light while shadows are formed by the angles of his face, giving the emperor an impressive chiseled appearance. Another detail to take note and- eventually- forget. Another jab to her heart.

Her attention settled on his bandaged hand and saw it was tied rather tight. Who did such a shoddy job? Sarah opened her hands.

“May I?”

“Hm?” Emhyr hesitated briefly before he allowed her to take his hand. Her slightly crimson-colored lips twisted in disapproval as she undid the knot on the back of his hand and unraveled the bandage. There was a bit of blood and a darkish brown tincture- iodine by the smell- staining the cloth. His wound, no bigger than her thumb, thankfully, no longer bled. Sarah left three inches of one end of the bandage dangling before winding the rest, then tied both ends.

“Flex your hand, sire. Make a fist. Does it feel comfortable? Even wounds need to breathe.”

“Thank you, Sarah. It does feel much better. Makes me regret not having you as my personal physician.”

Sarah’s cheeks reddened at the compliment. She took hold of his hand once more for a final inspection of her handiwork and noticed the scar from long ago. Her thumb grazed it, feeling the raised skin. “Amazing” she murmured. “It’s almost gone. Like the wound was never there.”

She did not notice Emhyr’s reaction to her touch- a short ragged breath. Emhyr turned his face away and something else caught his attention.

“Look over there, Sarah. Our tree is glowing.”

Indeed, even at this distance, she could see the ethereal glow of the Brokilon orchids.

Our tree

Another jab. The beacon was so close to being discovered that night. How many more painful reminders can she take?

A heaviness sat on her chest. Sarah, once more, assessed her decision for leaving. Hiding the beacon was the foremost reason. But lately, it was overtaken by an emotion rising when he is present. An emotion she still refuses to call by its true name, making each day a torment: the daydreaming, the pining, the ache in the knowledge that she could never do to him what his lovers could.

The voice of reason spoke within.

 If you are so determined to go through with your plans, then stop pussyfooting around! You are just prolonging your agony!

“Sarah?”

“Huh?”

“What troubles you? Is the celebration not to your liking?”

She forced herself to smile. It felt like having two weights dangling on the corners of her lips. “I haven’t been to a soiree in ages, sire. It is, by far, the best I’ve attended. And thank you…for making my last a night to remember.”

[katiecat446]

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[briarfox13]

I would love to know more about Lillie. :) I really like her design too. (And I love OCs. They give me so much joy :3)

Aagh thank you!!

Lillie was my very first Witcher OC back when I first read the books and she’s one of my favourites

Lillie is the only daughter of a noble family from Temeria, with the Crows Perch and swamps as their nearest neighbours. She has one brother, called Rowan who she tormented as siblings do-her favourite past time was to chase him around the house and courtyard, she still does this as an adult. 

She loves to read anything she can get hold of and has been known to break into people’s private libraries to get boks, horse riding, word games.

Lillie’s best skills are talking to people and getting them to do what she wants. But she’s a kind and caring person, who fights for what she believes in. Stubborn, fierce, fiesty and beautiful are all words people who’ve met her use. 

She loves wearing, red, blue and cream colours in her recognisable stripy dress! She’s ever so Temerian and wears a Temerian lily around her neck.

Their parents aren’t often around, usually at the court of KIng Foltest or away on business: they are both very good ambassadors leaving Lillie and Rowan to run the estate and lands when they were older. 

She inherited her parent’s people and manipulation skills, soon rising to prominence along with her beauty-she is often known as “The Lily of Temeria” as a pun on her name. Eventually she left Rowan tpo happily manage their home and went to Foltest’s court where was was prompt trained as an ambassador and sent to Nilfgaard with the prompt of “Be as annoying as possible” one of her specialities. 

In her time as the Temerian Ambassador to the Empire of Nilfgaard, she managed to stop several motions, annoy pretty much most of the higher nobles, Emhyr’s advisors and Emhyr himself XD Though she gets on very well with Morvran and Mererid, the chamberlin. 

Lillie is not afraid of the Emperor and it shows, having interrupted him a couple of times. They sort of bond over having to sit in boring meetings for hours on end (she pulls faces and rolls her eyes at him). She intrigues him as she’s just as fierce and clever as he is. It’s when she finds his private library to *borrow* books when they start having a relationship and she becomes his mistress. She ends up falling in love with him. 

But because I like keeping to canon, unfortunately their relationship doesn’t last forever with the arrival of False Ciri so Lillie goes home to Temeria and helps her brother run their home. It’s there she meets Eskell and ends up I suppose in a rebound kind of relationship-though she does have genuine feelings for him. 

Together they have a bittersweet time together. But again it doesn’t last because I’m mean =P Not long after Eskell travels to Kaer Morhen for the winter she succumbs to a fever (or maybe a broken heart) and passes away still quite young. 

And that is the epic tale of Lillie =D 

I’m hoping to turn this all into two fics at some point when I finish my other projects! I even have the titles for them =)

I’m sorry @wholelottatiffy I also may have rambled somewhat =P Thank you for asking!! I really appreciate it

[catgirlalchemist]

someday i will have my character designs down enough to draw something other than "figure standing in void." the loops on mererid's left vambrace are to help her shield stay strapped to her arm, since she can't hold it.

[catgirlalchemist]

Artfight prep continues with a reference sheet for Mererid!

[catgirlalchemist]

"a helping hand"

i really liked the head/pose for the last version i did of this, so i just made a copy of the file and redrew the clothes. i did really like the last outfit but it didn't feel specifically early medieval enough.

[catgirlalchemist]

Mererid verch Vanw

By nature quiet and intense, and by cultivation kind, with a helping hand always at the ready, Mererid is a young wolf-clothed of the Brecheliant Greenwood in the land of Ynys Cantrevi, born both woman and wolf.

[catgirlalchemist]

"a helping hand"

something something excessive polish is the death of art so here's a mererid as-is

[catgirlalchemist]

I was overcome by a fit of "you know what I really love? Surcoats" so here's Meri's Otherworld Armor 2.0. Also her sword has Lore now.

[catgirlalchemist]

Mererid verch Vanw, wolf-clothed of Brecheliant, champion of the mortal realm.

Who doesn't love a good Act 3 makeover and/or traumatic amputation?

[catgirlalchemist]

Mererid, daughter of Vanw, hails from the village of Root's Oath, in the Brecheliant Greenwood, in the land of Ynys Cantrevi. Root's Oath would be a fairly normal hunter-forager settlement, trading meat and skins for goods they can't produce themselves, were it not for that fact that it is solely home to the wolf-clothed, people with the ability to emerge in the form of a wolf while their human bodies sleep.

Mererid has always been one of her village's best hunters, and never so much as ventured to the nearest city, but when she's attacked by an unkillable beast out of a thousand-year-old legend, her search for answers leads her to leave everything she's ever known behind.

Note: name spellings are based on Middle Welsh, hence the non-standard orthography for Modern Welsh.

“And where might you be from, lass?” the innkeeper asked. “Don't see many womenfolk dressed like you in these parts.” Mererid shrugged. “I'm a hunter from Root's Oath, in the Greenwood. Everyone dresses like me there. No time to sit around sewing gowns.” A man's voice came from behind her. “The Greenwood? Heard there's an awful lot of wolf-clothed living there, outlaws and cattle thieves all.” Anest had warned her that cityfolk weren't nearly as friendly to the wolf-clothed as the villagers farther out from the great kingdoms, but Mererid hadn't quite expected to run into that so soon. She turned around, raising her arms in a gesture of innocence, and to show off the shearling lining of her wambais. “Only furs I'm wearing are sheep, sir,” she said, to a murmur of laughter from somewhere deeper into the common room. The man who had spoken up glowered at her, but turned back to his drink, and Mererid realized rather belatedly that she was lucky he hadn't made a crack about a wolf in sheep's clothing.

[catgirlalchemist]

"i shine for a worthy hand"

borage, for melancholy

[catgirlalchemist]

webcomic girls

(mererid verch vanw, elaine of whitehill, orphne amraut)

[catgirlalchemist]

"i shine for a worthy hand"

borage, for melancholy