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Kate Baer, from And Yet: Poems; “And Yet”

[Text ID: “It is depressing to know a war is coming. / Worse to know the war will always be in you.”]

#our lady of the broken maw.

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the little one couldn't sleep last night, knowing their patrol would end in a bell or two

#two spears against the wall. #euphemie de dansereau #prince haldrath #chanduciel de dansereau #baby boy ! baby !

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#of the broken maw.

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Caitlin Bailey, from Solve for Desire: Poems; “Pigeons”

[Text ID: “The most brilliant part of / you exists to haunt me:”]

#two spears against the wall.

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Full moon behind the Temple Expiatori del Sagrat Cor, on the summit of Mount Tibidabo in Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain.

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☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

#of the broken maw.

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Our hearts have formed a holy alliance; they [...] completely understood each other.

— Heinrich Heine, Selected Verse, transl by Peter Branscombe, (2013)

#two spears against the wall.

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younvzs

#our lady of the broken maw.

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Another morning in Ishgard.

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Emily Dickinson, from "There's a certain Slant of light,"

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my haldrath & melusine commission from @/Ya__n1n from crepe . i'm still overwhelmed with this + accepting a new j ob today i need time to recover i

#two spears against the wall. #prince haldrath #melusine of the sunlit song #euphemie de dansereau. #scREAMING!!!!! #THE ASCALON TOOOO SDFJ:LKK

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love wins all

#two spears against the wall. #snowshutter. #euphemie de dansereau #prince haldrath #gposers

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Blocked parried smooched on cheeck

#our lady of the broken maw.

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a meme come true by @unboundhavenn (twitter link) THANK U FOR LETTING EUPHIE HAVE HER QUESTIONABLY DESERVED DESSERT AFTER MORNING DRILLS WITH THE KNIGHTS DRAGOON (that only haldrath took part on)

#two spears against the wall. #sometimes hal n oofie need a lil comedy in their lives #also the ear wiggles...god bless u ducky

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it's been a while & i'm on a mini-break w/ my gbf oc but they're still going strong

#snowshutter. #two spears against the wall. #haldphie mine beloved

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9/10: (EC) BLEED.

verb: lose blood from the body as a result of injury or illness.

rating: t

characters: prince haldrath, euphemie de dansereau

tags: mid-heavensward, injuries, blood warning (of course), pillow talk (the haldphie pastime)

summary: the wounds are still fresh.

wordcount: 738

She woke to something wet on her back.

Cold and wet, mind you—but what made her turn was the ragged, shaky breathing of her beloved right behind her.

“I—I—” Haldrath stammers, in the dark of the night, with only the faint stripes of moonlight that crept in past the cracks of the curtains to assist her in making out what could be his expression. She hates the way his hand retreats from the one she has at her back, fingertips with the imprint of his blood—as if she were something delicate. Something he’d tainted.  In truth she’d been the one (well, she and Bertie both) who’d forced him into the infirmary after the skirmish at Whitebrim. Haldrath is far more genuine a hero than many of them—her included—will be, as he’d been assisting civilians after the remaining Dravanians fled. In doing so he’d prolonged the wound and it was she and the chirurgeon both who’d chided over him on the infirmary cot and he could do naught but agree with a hard-pressed smile that held the pain at bay.

Of course now smiling did nothing for either of them: not only did her nightstand carry curatives and tonics to get her through the difficult nights but also medical supplies for ease of access. She knew rudimentary first aid, of course—with a bit of conjury that their mother had enforced on the lot of them since childhood. Euphemie was loath to admit that the woman had been right all along for at least one thing. 

Of course, her mother—and most of the city, for that matter—were wrong about far more things. And it stung Euphemie to think that she herself was among them. 

When the bleeding had ceased and fresh clean bandages were taut ‘round the wound, he settled back against the pillow with a sigh as she rose to wash her hands in the nearby basin. They hadn’t spoken and she suspected it was more than simply exhaustion that kept their words at bay. “...It’s…really over, isn’t it?” When the thought left her lips she found herself wishing her voice had been too weak for him to hear. To make such a vulnerable thought known was a horror to her—even if the person who heard it was someone as beloved as her Hal.

“...I never gave it thought.” In the stillness and silence of the night, she heard his reply punctuated with a swallow. “...What’s going to happen, Hal?” Here, she can be like this—as clueless and vulnerable as a child. Everywhere else it’s impossible. She has a darling little page and two darling little nephews asking her the same question, and if Lady Euphie can’t figure it out, then—

“I don’t know.” One of the things that makes Hal better is his honesty; perhaps that’s one of the many things that makes him such a great leader, she thinks—telling the truth then and there and not dwelling on whether or not he should. The word truth is a word that’s starting to wear on her as of late: it’s starting and ending conversations all the same. The supposed guiding light that had been smothered for centuries by their forefathers had finally come to a light at perhaps the worst or best time possible—at the end of the Dragonsong War.

And it had only been two damn days.

“...But things will be better this way,” Haldrath takes a careful breath as she settles back down beside him, pulling the sheets up with her.

“though I know not how such will come to be.”

Her fingers slowly ghosted over the re-bandaged wound ‘neath his chest.

“...I would very much like to still be in love with you then.” She counts the seconds until his fingers find hers and intertwine—it takes less than three. She’s afraid of what will come to pass and she’s ashamed of how badly of a secret she’s made of that: her heart was in her face, her eyes, her lips—and it had a tendency to lead her first and foremost, only second to her spear.

“It’s only been two days,” He chuckles, taking her hand into his and bringing it to his lips for a kiss, eyes never parting from her own.

“Just be with me.” She bites back the urge to say please—Euphemie de Dansereau doesn’t plead. But she fears her eyes say otherwise, for Haldrath’s amethyst hues softened.

“That much I promise you.”

#ffxivwrite2023 #eggpens #prince haldrath #euphemie de dansereau #i'm not entirely content with it but i!! finished . . .