#since apparently Muirin isn't being used she's my OC now

[gwimulchorom]

“你的盼望, 是我握在手中小小的太阳”

Your hopes on me is the little sun I cup in my hands.

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They snuggled together in bed, a gesture they seemed to reflect even after years apart. A moment passed before Muirin poised to get up first and Myron reached over, possessively grabbing her sister in a tangle of limbs to ensure she couldn’t escape her deathgrip.

“I have work--” Muirin pushed Myron’s face from her, reaching for a pillow to smack her with, “I can just teleport away, and you know that.” Even then, Myron scoffed, feeling Muirin relax against her despite her protests. 

“I’ll counter it if you try. Cheap spell of the 2nd circle that it is,” Myron grumbled, reeling Muirin back in, “The Twins can wait a moment before opening. We both have Simulacrums going - and a lot of time. Let’s sleep in for a bit more, and then get ourselves a sprawling breakfast.”

Muirin peeked up at Myron, before sliding out from under her. “Are you making it?” she teased, sitting up and reaching over to push Myron back up to a seated position, “Seems like the Roaringhorn’s been doing you some good. Your meals are starting to improve too. Did cooking for 50 people force you to get better ingredients and actually bother to take care of yourself?”

Myron flopped to a seat, ruffling her fluffy head of hair before squinting into space. “Brother very much does the opposite. In fact he tries to cook for me as much as possible...but yes, I’ve been taking better care of myself these days. Can’t fall apart if I’m in charge of so many children now, right? Don’t want them to worry about me as much as possible.”

“If he was abusing your goodwill you know I’d flay him. I’ve always wanted to see what’s inside a celestial being,” Muirin shook her head, fluffing her pillows and neatly setting them aside, “In the end, all it took was letting you adopt a gaggle of kids to have you sort yourself out. You felt so guilty taking favors from me all the time. Why? Making a small personal army in Waterdeep’s name?”

“They can decide what they want to do with their lives. You know better considering we were taken and trained, no say in that matter,” Myron rubbed her eyes before reaching blindly for her seal plushie behind her, slipping the toy inside one of her pouches, “They can be my personal army for all I care, but I doubt the Witch of the North really needs more rumors about her.”

“I like that. Has a mysterious type of zing to it,” Muirin wiggled her fingers, striding over to pull her twin to her feet, “Do they even put two and two together? Those people don’t even know who they’re talking to half the time.”

“No, and I’d like it to be kept that way,” Myron stumbled against her sister’s weight, allowing Muirin to guide her, “Where else am I going to get speculative portraits of myself as a sinister old crone punishing the corrupt and ruining cults? I need to get my entertainment somewhere.”

“Could offer you some jobs,” Muirin let herself bear Myron’s weight as they walked to the kitchen together, “Want to help me kill vampires at Greenest? Thay killed that piece-of-shit tree that was giving us so much trouble, but you know how they’re like about ensuring we’re both out of that picture. If not, I’m sure there’s some logistical paperwork for Greenest and Waterdeep I’ve been putting off. And also building more items for The Twins...”

“Already working on things for sale. Don’t have to tell me twice,” Myron rested her legs on the table, leaning backwards with acrobatic balance, “I don’t mind going to punt some undead. Need to put my arcane armor to the test anyway. I wonder how well the barding sigils would stretch on a dragon’s body...”

“Don’t,” Muirin gave Myron a warning glare, making a gesture to allow coffee to fill both their mugs on its own, “For someone so determined to keep all her identities separate, you keep trying to fly in as a dragon like you aren’t scaring the townsfolk less than two years after a major dragon attack.”

“I’m a nice dragon!” Myron protested as she accepted the coffee, pouting dramatically, “Maybe they need to read up more on the Draconomicon about topaz dragons instead of scattering in fright. I’m cute and lovely.”

“Getting people to read and improve on themselves? Tall order,” Muirin sighed as she evaluated the items in her stash, “What are you feeling this morning?”

Myron jumped to her feet, already limping over to toss around some ingredients Muirin had set out. “Bugs? We could call back to our roots and eat bugs. Personally I’m feeling toast and eggs,” she rambled, already setting aside her ingredients of choice, “How about some sausages? We hardly get sausages coming in these days. I’m so hungry. Maybe I should get Brother to request for more prime cuts from the surrounding regions.”

“We can discuss business later,” Muirin set out the plates, settling in with mug in hand as she leafed through her copy of the Waterdhavian Times, “If you’re hungry, how do you think I feel?”

“Boo. You wouldn’t even help me cut the crust off the toast and butter it,” Myron protested, already skilfully making scrambled eggs on the makeshift grill - a spark of green flame was all it needed to sputter to life, “Is the papers really that much more important than spending time with your beloved sister?”

Muirin sighed, gesturing to the loaf in front of her to start slicing itself. “You pull that all the time. We lived together for months after I found you again, I think I’ve had quite my fill of you,” she muttered, pulling the papers closer to her face.

“Blasphemy. Nobody gets tired of me,” Myron teased, mixing the butter into the eggs with a satisfying sizzle. “I want my toast triangular.”