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kookaburra1701 · 8 months

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WIP Wednesday - Nostos

HA! This week I have my act together - it is I who will be tagging!

@mareenavee @thana-topsy @dirty-bosmer @greyborn2 @gilgamish @archangelsunited @paraparadigm @inquisition-dragonborn @skyrim-forever @elfinismsarts @polypolymorph @orfeoarte @tallmatcha @snippetsrus @rainpebble3 @saltymaplesyrup @thequeenofthewinter @changelingsandothernonsense.... STAND AND DELIVER (those WIPs) Khemor gro-Skaven still has me hung up on those wonderful orc tusks. Here's the opening scene for Nostos, the fic that will be a sequel to Aristeia.

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: T (blood and violence, mushy stuff [kissin' not viscera]) Category: M/F Genre(s): Romance Main characters: Borgakh the Steel Heart, Khemor gro-Skaven (Male orc LDB)

Summary: Khemor gro-Skaven thought that after he defeated Alduin, he would not have to worry about anything more dangerous than a quill knife for the rest of his existence. But when jarl of the Pale asks him to investigate the destruction of the Hall of the Vigilants, it sets off a chain of events that ultimately leads him to wash up at the feet of Borgakh the Steel-Heart of Mor Khazgur. But what can a crippled conjuration mage-scholar half again her age possibly offer to a future Shield-Wife?

14 Rain's Hand, 4E 205 The snowfields of the Druadachs were melting in the spring rain that drew a gauzy gray veil over their jagged peaks. The dripping rivulets joined larger streams, carving ever-deeper grooves down the granite faces of the mountains, where they joined together in glades just greening with the waning of winter. The streams became myriad rivers whose names were known only to the inhabitants of the remote wilderness where they roared and foamed over jagged rocks on their way to the great river Karth, and finally to the sea.

Khemor gro-Skaven, Thane of Eastmarch and The Pale, the Last Dragonborn, Vanquisher of Alduin, Confidant of the High King of Skyrim, and disgraced former Magus of the College of Whispers, was now drowning in one of those rivers. The violent current wrapped Khemor's thick traveling robes and cloak around his limbs as he struggled to grab onto passing debris; his head rang from the blow it had taken on a rock as his feet had been swept from under him, preventing him from even attempting a rudimentary waterbreathing spell in a last-ditch effort to save his sorry hide. Shouting was out of the question.

Calder is going to kill me. Khemor's lungs burned for want of air and the cold water squeezed his chest, the deluge pinning him against a submerged tree trunk as coherent thought left him.

Something was pinching Khemor in half. Unbearable pressure resolved itself into a narrow band of fire across his stomach: Khemor tried to squirm away but his arms and good leg refused to move, as if weighed down by anchors.

Breaking the surface of water he had not known he was under, the heavy wet canvas of his cowl plastered itself to his mouth as he tried to draw a desperate breath. A wracking cough caused him to twist in the hands that were hauling him by his belt through the shallows. A torrent of muddy, foul-tasting water spewed from his mouth as he hit the ground, his face in the clay of the riverbank.

He coughed again, his sopping cowl now hanging away from his face enabling him to take deep draughts of air in between wrenching paroxysms. As his lungs cleared, so did his mind.

Calder is never going to let me live this down, Khemor thought, waiting for the inevitable indignant lecture his housecarl was wont to give whenever Khemor did something particularly foolhardy.

"Are you able to stand?" said a gravelly, yet unmistakably feminine voice above him.

That is not Calder.

Khemor lifted his head, peeling the hood of his cowl and a lock of his hair back to peer up at his rescuer. As he blinked the river water from his eyes, the blurry figure above him came into focus.

An orc stood above him, silhouetted by the noonday sun. Water droplets twinkled as they fell from her dark hair and traced the severe angles of her face. Her yellow-green eyes gleamed in the dark hollows under her heavy brow, framed by deep madder paint that graced her high cheekbones and was now dripping and streaking towards the two white tusks peeking out from behind her lower lip. Her tunic and trews clung to her figure, revealing every bulge and groove of her well-muscled arms and legs.

Khemor shut his mouth with a snap, words crowding his throat but none of them would come out.

Say something, you idiot!

Instead of words, another coughing fit gripped him, leaving him breathless and retching as he brought up more river water. The orc knelt next to him, heedless of the mud and clay of the riverbank, and gave him several back blows that made him see stars.

#hot orc summer #fic: nostos #oc: khemor gro-skaven #skyrim fanfiction #kb writes #it's not easy being green #wip wednesday #skyrim #tesblr

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alex987854 · 8 months

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River Calder

#photographers on tumblr #original photographers #lancashire #landscape

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lovevalley45 · 4 months

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untitled ficlet #337

The last time that Calder Kildé had been in the Frigid North, it had been before he left for Ezry. He knew returning that things would certainly be different, but some things would always stay the same.

The brutal cold was strangely welcome, despite the reminder of the endless time trapped in Ultris’s helm. It was home.

During the first few weeks he spent in Ezra’s temperate dome, of always warm yet not too hot days, he had felt uncomfortable. The training to become a Synth Knight was already tough, made more wearing by the heat he was unaccustomed to. Though he had gotten used to the unending mild weather, he was almost looking forward to the harsh winds against his face and the crunch of snow under his feet.

As the Egg drifted into the rivers of the Frigid North, Calder could feel the chill of the nearly-frozen water permeating through the metal exterior. Though, if Sol’s knit crop-top was anything to go by, the rest of the Duck Team couldn’t.

He sat with Sol and Callie as they cooled down after an invigorating kettlebell workout. Calder pressed his back against the metal, cold where his neck was exposed.

“I’ve visited the Winter Court back in the Feywild, but I haven’t spent much time on the mortal plane in winter. Not outside Ezry, at least,” Callie was telling Sol.

“Oh, man, the Winter Court must be really pretty. Like all those Crickmas cards,” he replied.

“I heard it used to be awful when Queen Ezra the Unkind used to rule. Now with Queen Joyvre, it’s more of a winter wonderland.” She turned to Calder. “Maybe we can stop there when we go to the Feywild. You know, if you feel a little homesick after leaving your family again.”

Calder figured it wouldn’t be much of the same thing. But the light in Callie’s eyes, sparkling like freshly fallen snow in her re-emerged winter eladrin form, made it hard for him to say anything but, “That’d be nice.”

“Then we can get multiple uses out of those winter clothes Ursea gave us,” Sol pointed out.

From the other side of the Egg, Kenna looked up from where she was breaking off chunks of a granola bar to feed to Gunk. “Do you think those clothes will be enough to keep us warm, Mr. Kildé?”

“During the day, maybe,” he answered. “It’ll be much harder to stay warm at night.”

Sol stood up. “Then I guess I better get a headstart on knitting us some blankets!”

Kenna shot Calder a pained look. He quickly intervened, if only for her sake. “We’ll just make a fire.”

“Ooh, or I can make some wintery tiny huts!” Callie exclaimed.

It was quite nice to imagine, actually - just the four of them with hot cocoa, escaping the elements with style. He had always wanted to take Sol and Callie to visit his hometown, though he had hoped it would be under less dire circumstances. It wouldn’t quite be the winter wonderland they were dreaming of. But going home seemed better with them by his side.

“Fine. No blankets,” Sol conceded.

“Well, we could still use some blankets to use in the hut,” Callie said. Though she didn’t say, Calder could guess she was thinking along similar thoughts to his - if he was busy knitting, at least he wouldn’t be worrying about Swag. And he had thought his family reunion would be awkward because he had to ask about the magical artifact they’d never told him about.

As Foster tried to steal the remnants of the granola bar in her hands, Kenna still looked worried. He couldn’t tell if it was about the squire’s aversion to knitted attire or the possibility of freezing to death. If it was the latter, he couldn’t blame her. As part frost giant, the cold posed less of a threat to him as his warmer friends.

It was a stark difference from how he’d lived here growing up - shielded by his family, told he was too small and weak to brave the elements too much. Now, it was his duty to make sure they made it to the Ice Knife safely. The protected now became the protector, Calder figured.

The Frigid North would never thaw or be less brutal, but he was stronger than the half-giant he’d been when he left it - especially with Duck Team by his side.

#alli writes shit #naddpod #ba2mia #calder kilde #calliope petrichor #sol bufo #kenna ironheart #i wrote this after the episode dropped but i'm just posting it now lol

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pcril · 3 months

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* ◟ : 〔 t'nia miller , cis woman + she/her 〕 vere calder, some say you’re a thirty-eight year old lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both orderly and faithless, one can’t help but think of secret agent man by johnny rivers when you walk by. are you still a fbi agent / associate (bookkeeper) at government / jade tribe, even with your reputation as the shrike? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and no past but an infinite present, the clarity of mind after fully perceiving the world around, pearls from a ripped necklace spilling on marble floor although we can’t help but think of spider-man noir (into the spider-verse), trent crimm (ted lasso), gaby (the man from u.n.c.l.e) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

ENTER THE SHRIKE.

You're up at the break of dawn and the first to turn in at night. Very much an early bird you're happy to chirp and chitter your way on the way to work. Make new friends, catch up with old ones, file every ounce of information away to organize later. The bright smile you adorn isn't fake by any means. You take everything into account, really listen to those that need to be heard. The reason for doing so is just.. a little misplaced.

PUBLICLY KNOWN FACTS:

Name: Vere Calder

Appearance: Big, bold, blocky colors galore. For someone that's hidden a significant part of herself, she certainly stands out most of the time. Always adorning some sort of statement piece, she accessorizes like a crow's trove. Her every movement is open and inviting. There's hardly a moment where she doesn't have time to lend another.

Life at home hadn't always been the best growing up. Her father tried, God knows he did, to make up for her mother's neglect. Drove his efforts twofold when Vere's mother upped and left their family halfway through middle school. Nothing was said to her directly. Not a note, text, or single word. Vere was simply left with a half baked explanation via her father. That they'd simply fallen out of love with each other. Had been for quite some time, and neither party wanted to drag it out any longer. With nothing else to grasp onto, she believed him. Continued to do so until high school graduation nearly hit.

It'd been a mistake, it always is. She just so happened to come by a paper trail leading up to the divorce. How distraught her father had truly been upon discovering her infidelity. How she'd kept an entirely separate family under wraps. Worse still, how vastly different they were treated compared to Vere's. Where Vere and her father was shown minimal time and attention, the others were given an abundance of love and care. They were well off and more, but not a single penny or shred of sympathy was cast their way. Whatever image Vere had left of her mother completely shattered. And from it grew an obsession to find her. Have all of these questions and accusations answered in person.

Her sights hadn't originally been set on becoming a federal agent, but became more invested with each morsel of knowledge gained. Eventually, she was presented with the opportunity to go undercover and acclimate into the Jade Tribe. Not a single complaint was given. If anything, she gladly went — always one to help out the team and all. Definitely had nothing to do with a possible lead of her mother having ties to that organization in particular.

#lawlessintro #vere calder — inspo .#vere calder — dialogue .#tw neglect

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anonymousdandelion · 1 year

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Upstream Factors

For @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt "against the flow", my mind naturally went MERMAIDS. So here, have a bit of original fiction.

(This feels like the beginning to a longer story, and I'd love to tell you what happens next... but unfortunately I have no idea.)

“Marea!”

Her tail lashed, a flash of silver-green scales propelling her through the freshwater waves with equal parts ease and purpose. Calder swam quickly in her wake, though it was all he could do to keep up with his friend’s pace in the water.

“Marea, where are you going?”

She paused at last to float, turning to face him — but she was frowning, and the set of her jaw told him her mind was made up. “I told you already. I’m going up-River.”

She pointed at the broad, fast-moving stream just beyond them.

“But you can’t!”

“I can try.”

He groped desperately for another argument. “But, but the current…”

“I’ve swum against the flow of currents before,” she said mildly. “Even the River can’t be worse than the rip.”

Remembering the many upstream races they’d shared in happier times, Calder couldn’t help but concede that point.

“It’s longer than a rip, though,” he tried.

“Yes, and no one knows how long it is, because no one has ever bothered trying to find out. I know that.” She made a face. “Look, if you think the current is too strong, you don’t need to stop me. Its flow will just carry me back, won’t it?”

But what if it doesn’t? Calder didn’t say. Or what if… if something bad happens, and it carries you back too late? Or…

“The cleanup,” he said instead. “What about the cleanup crew? We need your help.”

Marea shook her head, the movement rippling out around them. “The cleanup isn’t enough. It’s a temporary solution which means it’s not a solution at all. And you know it.”

He did know it. Everyone knew it, he suspected — though fewer of them were inclined to admit it. The general preference seemed to be to concentrate on alleviating the immediate crisis, catching and removing the ever-increasing junk and debris, with the assumption that if they just held out long enough things would get better again.

Except that things were getting worse instead of better, and even Calder couldn’t deny that Marea was right.

~ ~ ~

For time uncounted, the Lake had been a home of health and prosperity for the Mer who dwelt in her waters.

They lived and died alongside the many fish, mammals, coral, and other undersea life that shared their world. They swam, and ate, and laughed, and loved, and occasionally fought among themselves, and generally thrived amid the rich ecosystem of which they were a part.

The Lake was their home; the Mer were the Lake’s people; and, for a very long time, all was well.

That was before the River Trouble began.

The River had, of course, always been there — at the far northern shore, feeding the Lake and perpetually refreshing her waters. The flow was fast, the current strong enough to discourage any wishes to explore far upstream. Besides, there was never any reason someone should want to. The Lake held all they needed.

And then, for the first time, the River began to carry harm.

Foreign substances, both solid and liquid, which had no place in the Lake and damaged those who had the misfortune to encounter it. Objects, oils, and other things which seemed to fit within neither category;

Death and disease had always had a presence in the Lake; it was only natural. But never before had they been brought by the flow of the River.

The Mer, recognizing the emergency at hand, formed teams. They watched the place where the River met the Lake, and intercepted the potential harm as much as possible. They cleaned what they might, extracted what they could, and confined what they could not.

The Mer worked hard, and fast, and skillfully. They knew, like none other, how to work with their Lake and harness her resources in her defense.

But the Trouble kept coming, and that was harder and faster still.

~ ~ ~

“It has to be coming from somewhere,” said Marea quietly. “It has to. Somewhere up-River, the Trouble is entering the water before it gets to us. Somebody has to find out where it’s coming from… and why.”

Calder looked at her, and he saw that he could no more change her mind than he could convince the River to flow in the opposite direction.

He nodded, then, and swam up beside her, taking one last look at the Lake surrounding them. Even now, with so much going wrong, it was still beautiful.

“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

That got Marea’s attention. She stared at him. “But— you—”

He shrugged with a curl of the tail. “It won’t be my first time going against the flow either, you know.”

She cracked a smile at that, and reached for his hand.

Together, they entered the River, to swim against the current and find the Trouble’s source.

#dandelion fics #original fiction #fiction #short story #flash fiction #mermaids #merfolk #merpeople #pollution #flash fiction friday

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mareenavee · 7 months

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If Anyone Can Do This, It’s You

For the prompt: Riverwood Thank you to @kookaburra1701 for your amazing Calder in your fic universe!!! I NEEDED to write a pining Good Bean Nord after all you've shared! Hadvar was the perfect candidate. Thank you to @changelingsandothernonsense also for ALL the word sprints and for helping me keep my spirits up in the middle of a hurricane of chaos. This is for you guys <3

This is an AU where we answer the question: What if Nyenna and Hadvar traveled together to Whiterun, and then went on to Solitude to join the War effort?

Main Fic Universe is Dragonborn & Far-Star Marked and its prequel series is The Heart of the World. Caught up on The World on Our Shoulders and want to read more AU situations? Check out the series If Only Time Changed Its Mind or Take My Hand, Erase the Past Forever.

Without further ado:

If Anyone Can Do This, It’s You

Riverwood was peaceful, despite the raging chaos of Helgen burning in the distance, and the giant black dragon that had flown off over the mountains only hours ago. It was ridiculous, come to think of it, that things could still be so idyllic. That the river still flowed with water and not blood and fire seemed like some kind of illusion. Or miracle.

Hadvar held Nyenna’s hands in his own. He’d closed her fingers around a pouch of gold that his aunt and uncle had given him for her. She was meant to go to Whiterun, to tell the Jarl about the dragon—but he was having misgivings about sending her off alone. There was something different about her that he couldn’t quite place. The way she’d fought that bear in the cave, it was as if she’d become someone else entirely. It was like all fear melted from her as she aimed that borrowed bow. He knew Bosmeri folk were generally trained to be archers, but she’d said otherwise. That she’d been sheltered and could still do that was incredible.

“Nyenna,” Hadvar started, unsure exactly what he wanted to say. What would all this accomplish, asking her to stay with him? Would she take it the wrong way? They’d just survived a brush with death, after all. But it wasn’t exactly like that…was it? He cleared his throat. “What if we go to Solitude instead?”

She looked up at him, orange eyes almost startled. “Didn’t you say I should go to Whiterun?”

“Ah yes, but…you could join the Legion. Maybe do some real good once you’ve gotten in some training, what with the War going on.” It wasn’t exactly what he meant to say. It was more that he didn’t want her to go. She had a strange pull to her. He hated reading, normally, but being around her reminded him of the kind of book that draws you right into the story so much so that you forget reality for a moment.

“I am no soldier,” she said, pushing a stray silver curl back behind her ear. “That, and who is going to get word to Jarl Balgruuf if not me?”

“We can go together, then take a carriage to Solitude. Hopefully General Tullius made it out of Helgen just fine. If not, there’s contingencies, and I’ll need to be debriefed before I get sent on my next mission. And you can enlist, then begin your training.” Hadvar let go of her hands and folded his arms over his chest. The coins in the pouch he’d given her clinked together, the only noise in the silence as she thought about her answer.

“Do you really think I can make a difference like that? That I am…good enough to be a soldier?” Nyenna asked. Her voice was so soft. She still looked baffled.

“Of course you are!” Hadvar said, perhaps too quickly. He felt his face flush and closed his eyes for the barest second. He heard Nyenna chuckle which only made him even more embarrassed. He let out a sigh. “I mean, yes. You’ve already got skill. All you need is training.”

Nyenna nodded and tucked the bag of coins in her bag. “Alright. The worst that can happen is they turn me away, right?” -> Read the rest on AO3.

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colgreen31 · 12 days

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#photography #photographer #clickasnap #yorkshire #travel #River Calder #West Yorkshire #Wakefield #Hepworth #Hepworth Gallery

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nexxen24 · 2 months

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The Sunwalker's Respite

BG3 FANFIC

Spawn Astarion X Female Tav

Tav: Hanelly Calista, Wood Elf, Fighter, Eldritch Knight. Age 180, born just outside the human city of Calder.

Romanced: Astarion(succeeded the perception check to keep him as a spawn)

Synopsis: 6 months after defeating the brain and saving Faerun, Hanelly Calista is happy, she has everything she could ever want in the form of Astarion, the sarcastic and sassy Vampire spawn that stole her heart. But there's still something missing, Astarion gave up his place in the light in order to keep his soul and Hanelly knows that there has to be a way to get it back. When wizard extraordinaire, Gale Dekarios, finds a clue to a ring, it'll lead Hanelly and Astarion deep into the Underdark as they discover the beginnings of a deadly plot, one that could destroy the city they nearly died protecting. The quest will lead them to Astarion's found family, the six other vampire spawn and show them just how far one can go to protect the people they love.

Chapter: Prologue/6-8

NOTES: This story will stay strictly PG-13, some language throughout cause that's fun but nothing explicit. All of it will only ever be implied since I don't like writing smut. If you don't like the fade to black, stop right where it ends and find an 18+ fic to fill the void. The intention is to have this more character driven than just a small oneshot, hence the multiple chapters. Enjoy!

Prologue

Astarion

Baldur's Gate, Undercity, 54 Years Before the Absolute’s Demise

The Undercity of Baldur’s Gate was dark and damp, covered in rats and questionable substances and not the spot that you’d want to spend a lot of time in but it was the perfect spot for a vampire spawn looking to catch his breath. Astarion was crawling around in the Undercity, trying to avoid his own task of looking for new victims for his master, a man named Cazador that resided in a mansion in the Lower City. Astarion knew that if he came back with nothing there would be a problem but the young vampire spawn was also tired of following the rules, he wanted a break.

A tavern would be the ideal spot and a drink could steel his nerves but it was almost sunrise and sunshine and spawns didn’t tend to mix. So Astarion found himself in the Undercity, crouching near a river and blowing on his hands in an effort to warm them up. Baldur’s Gate wasn’t known for having warm winters and that one was particularly chilly and Astarion was dressed to lure unsuspecting upperclassmen, not for warmth.

“Try a fire.”

Astarion jumped up and pulled the dagger from his belt, holding it out in front of him in defence only to glare at the woman who spooked him since he recognized her.

“Maleera, why are you here?” he hissed and she shrugged, taking a seat next to him as he calmed his nerves.

“You didn’t come back, I managed to convince Cazador that I could find you. Do I need to remind you about what happened last time?”

Astarion shook his head, eyes shut tightly as he tried to ignore the flashes of darkness and chains and blood from the year he spent buried alive under Cazador’s mansion. If he didn’t return in time for his master to feed, another year of that was likely in his future and Astarion curled his hand into a tight fist, trying to calm down his nerves. Maleera let out a sigh, feeling for the young spawn and pulled out a small bottle of Baldurian whiskey she had been holding onto.

“Are you sure?”

“You need it more than me,” she said and he nodded in thanks before taking a long sip, feeling the whiskey warm him, satiating the memories at least for the moment.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, so…why didn’t you follow his rules?”

“I needed a break, there was this nobleman in a bar and he was perfect, visiting from out of town and drinking too much but he started mentioning his family, a fiance and I just couldn’t. I came down here for a break, thought I’d sulk back there tonight, maybe come up with some excuse or grab two.”

“You know it doesn’t work that way, Cazador would still retaliate,” Maleera said and Astarion nodded with a sigh, knowing that she was right.

“I know, I just wish that it was different,” he said and Maleera frowned at him. “I just wish that I could run as far as I can for the whole night and never have to see that damn vampire again…but…I can't. I'm trapped, we're trapped.”

“You know you can’t change it, not right now, Cazador’s hold on us is too strong, too great. If you leave then he’ll hunt you down and you won’t spend a year locked up with Godey, you’ll spend a lifetime.”

Astarion knew that Maleera wasn’t trying to crush his spirit, to convince him that all hope was lost, she was simply being realistic and had been with Cazador for over 300 years, almost double the amount of time that he had. She had spent longer than just her time with Cazador stuck in the dark since being born a Drow, stuck in the Underdark and fighting a generations long war was supposed to be her future, her destiny. According to Maleera, Cazador went to the Underdark looking for something and after he didn’t find it he came out with a new spawn, a 60 yr old Drow who assumed that life was about to get better. But it never did.

“I know,” he said and sighed, running a hand through his hair, white from either stress or just time he had no idea. “I’m not looking to escape, I just wanted a break. Just wanted a moment to myself.”

“Of course, I get that, it gets suffocating sometimes,” Maleera said and grabbed a discarded barrel so she could take a seat next to him. “Big cities were never my thing. Drow, especially Seldarine like my people, tended to stay pretty far away, kept to ourselves. This was a pretty big adjustment.”

“Has it gotten better?” Astarion asked and the Drow chuckled, formally purple now red eyes catching the dim light shining through an open sewer grate above them.

“No.”

“Yeah, same for me and I was practically raised here,” Astarion said and grinned but frowned when he caught sight of the grime and the darkness. “Well…not here…up there.”

“I could figure out that much,” she said and smiled at him. “Well…anyways…we should be heading back.”

“Uh…I will later today, there’s a tunnel that connects to the Palace, I can probably grab a wanderer on the way, someone no one will miss.”

“Don’t be too long,” Maleera warned and Astarion nodded, giving her a mocking salute as she went. “Keep that pretty head up, it’ll all work out in the end.”

“I hope you’re right,” Astarion muttered and watched as she returned to the shadows and once again left him alone.

He didn’t get up and start heading back right away but positioned himself in such a way that he could peer through a hole in the ceiling of the tunnel and stare at the moon. The sun wasn’t a big fan of spawn, it hurt to be around, was practically deadly but the moon was a welcome respite, a friend. The moon meant safety, the cover of darkness and a chance to see some actual natural light, the only natural light that didn’t hate him. Astarion was also fully aware of the fact that there were a lot of people currently staring at the moon and maybe one of them could assist him in one day, could change his fate and rid the world of Cazador forever. That also sounded like a daydream, like some trick that his psyche used in order to not let him get so hopeless after so many years of being stuck, trapped with that man.

But for the moment, for the smallest, most miniscule little moment he didn’t care and Astarion was at peace and tipped his head back. He felt the moonlight on his face, felt that he wasn’t alone and sucked in a deep breath, wishing he could stay that way forever.

Hanelly

The Moonhaven Inn, Outer Baldur’s Gate, 54 Years Before the Absolute’s Demise

Whenever I got stressed I found myself searching for the highest point I could possibly get and in the case of Moonhaven, that spot was the top deck, the highest spot they bothered to build in the tree and my safe haven. The deck was perched just under a collection of branches and since Moonhaven just so happened to be the biggest tree in all of Faerun, its branches shielded the deck from the weather but were just far enough away to let in some moonlight. I loved moonlight, loved sitting under it and contemplating life and was doing just that, memories of how I got to Moonhaven threatening to ruin the day and I needed some way to hold them off.

I was born in a small village about three hours from the giant tree called Venia that was populated by Wood Elves who protected the forests surrounding a large human city called Baldur’s Gate. Myself, a Wood Elf, was destined to follow in my father’s footsteps and protect the trees, become one with nature and eventually take my place as a Tree Guardian, keeping the forest as perfect as it deserves to be. But when Venia was overrun by the very forest we swore to protect, we fled along with my brother to a nearby human town called Calder. It was different and strange, they liked trees less than us and when I turned 100(barely 18 for humans) the forest decided to fight back.

All at once I was forced to choose between the home I had found and the place that I assumed was made to protect me, that I had been taught to protect since before I could walk. But the human’s of Calder didn’t give me much of a choice and I was clenching my hands into fists as I tried to block out memories of accidentally shooting my brother with a poison tipped arrow, of watching my father fall in front of me before I could even do anything, of watching all I had gained, all I had kept close crumble to dust in mere moments.

“Hanelly?”

I turned to find Stephan standing behind me, the current High Harper for Moonhaven, and moved a bit so I wasn’t curled into such a ball as he climbed up onto the deck.

“Stephan, hello, sorry, I just needed some time to myself.”

The moment that it all came crashing down was only thirty years ago but it felt longer even though three decades was barely a weekend compared to the lifespan of an elf. I had over 600 years left to live and back when I arrived Stephan was barely five years old and now he was a grown-up, running the place, ageing faster than I could ever dream of.

“No need to apologise,” Stephan assured and took a seat next to me, his large frame taking up a lot more of the deck than I anticipated.

“The memories, they come back to me sometimes and it hurts, I just wish that I could’ve done something.”

“You had no idea that they stole from the Mother Tree, no one could have predicted that,” Stephan pointed out and I sighed knowing that he was correct.

The whole reason behind why the fighting started was thanks to Harold Clive, leader of Calder who stole a branch off the Mother Tree to create the two limbs of his bow. The Mother Tree, the biggest tree in the land that was birthed out of a grand sacrifice and said to keep its people safe if they protected it, retaliated and every Wood Elf for almost a hundred miles made it their goal to kill Harold. My family got swept up in the human side of the fighting and I became a fighter, trained myself how to use weapons and was forced into the fight for the opposing side. If someone would’ve picked out that the bow contained stolen wood then the whole thing could’ve been avoided, the tree satiated and my family would still be alive.

Instead, I left right after the fighting stopped, wounded, practically on death’s door and stumbled upon Moonhaven where Simon Carver, Stephan’s father, took me in and brought me back from the dead. I always held onto the soldier background, that pack mentality but knew that starting from the moment I realised I was safe I was gonna fight for what I believed in, not the masses.

“At least I don’t have to fight for what I don’t believe in anymore,” I muttered and Stephan smiled in agreement, wrapping me in a side hug.

“No you don’t, the people of Moonhaven will keep you safe for as long as you wish, I can assure you of that. We’re in this together, Hanelly.”

“I want to start assisting the Harpers, I feel like I offer a lot that can be beneficial, especially when dealing with elves.”

“Being a Harper is a lifelong commitment, a lifelong pact to protect people, are you sure that you can uphold that?”

I knew that Stephan was looking out for me, making sure that I wasn’t making a rash decision and locking myself into something I was going to regret years down the line but I took some offence that he didn’t think I could do it. Most people at Moonhaven expected me to return to Venia since it had grown in the years following the attack, was back from the dead practically and elves tended to stick with other elves. But I didn’t want that life, I no longer felt connected to the woods around the tree or felt the same way that other Wood Elves did in nature regardless of my heritage. I was less elf after that battle, less connected and felt like I was some weird in between of a human and my former self, trying to figure out what side I belonged to more. Sure the Harpers had always been a little disorganised and no one ever really knew what they stood for but they felt like family, felt like a group of people that I could trust.

“I can do it, I can keep the oath,” I assured and Stephan smiled at me.

“Alright then, how about we discuss your role among the Harpers in the morning?” he asked and I nodded, wanting to spend some more time outside.

“Sounds good,” I assured and smiled, “thank you.”

“Anytime, thank you,” he said and patted my head before getting to his feet and walking off, heading down the ladder and leaving me to my thoughts once again.

I hate to spoil the happy ending but I didn’t manage to join the Harpers that next day since Stephan was killed by an assassination attempt during the night and I spent the next ten years trying to figure out who did it. It kind of soured my need to be near anybody and when I got back after killing a Bhaal Cultist that thought killing him was good fun, I locked myself in the room at the top of the tree and ignored everyone for a good decade. It was Stephan’s wife at his time of death, Clara, that convinced me to be something totally different from a Harper or a Wood Elf, to be just me. To take all that I had learned from being a soldier, from finding his killer and focus on protecting people that needed it, keeping them safe like I wasn’t able to do for him.

I spent twenty years being a protector and enjoyed it. It felt freeing and I was just making plans to teach more people how to join me when I walked down the wrong alleyway in Baldur’s Gate and found myself kidnapped, stuffed onto a ship full of Mind Flayers and everything changed. For nearly two months I worked with a reluctant party to fix the tadpole placed in my skull and free the realm from the biggest threat it had ever faced. I found peace in doing so, found a chance to do right by the world and guarantee that all who called the realm home could call it home for many more years to come.

I also found love, probably the most shocking turn of events when the High Elf that stuffed a dagger against my throat within five seconds of meeting me stole my entire heart and then some. Keeping him safe, making sure that he could also call the realm home was one of the hardest things I ever had to do but it worked out in the end, I took all I had learned and fought harder than I ever had before and he made it, he survived. He broke free and became his own person and learned that sometimes it’s freeing to let love back into your heart, sometimes it’s what you need.

But of course all of that is years away and for the moment I was sitting on the balcony, drenched in moonlight and smiling since it all felt perfect, all felt peaceful. I was decades away from meeting that said High Elf and had no idea that when I looked up at the moon and smiled, somewhere out there in a dark, musty sewer he was doing the same. We were a long while from being connected in the physical sense but still had managed to both believe in the exact same thing, that for the smallest moment when you find yourself staring up at the moon, you’re in turn no longer alone.

#astarion #bg3 #tav #baldur's gate 3 #neil newbon #romance #romantic #spawn astarion #elf tav #bg3 fanfiction

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handgiven · 5 months

Text

"hands" (1972) by eva kmentová / "tree huggers" (2021-) by michalina w. klasik / "two permeable forms" (2006) by christiane löhr / "i put a paper underneath the pear tree in my garden and traced its shadow every two minutes" (1992) by milan maur / "i am carrying the water of the river in my hands several meters down-stream" (1977) by jiří kovanda / "rain shadows" (1980s-present) by andy goldsworthy / alexander calder's mobile in georgia o'keeffe's home (1980) /

#▻ 𝐸𝑀𝑀𝐴𝑁𝑈𝐸𝐿 、musings ⁽ ˡᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵖᵒᵘʳˢ ᶦᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁾#yeah i could do a webweave but how about i do a string of contemporary art that is fuzzy and soft and tender for em? hm?#do you See My Vision #(also yeah this is my moment of 'state exam postponed fuck it we ball')#(i still have regular finals to get thru the hiatus is still on b u t i wanted to do this :') )#long post cw

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foxglove-the-never-fairy · 1 year

Text

Fairy Names Pt. 2

Fly with you! It’s been a while hasn’t it? Anyway, I’m here for a second part of one of my most popular posts.

The first post listed fairy names that were used in the DS game “Tinker Bell and the Great Fairy Rescue” in the create-a-fairy section of the game. While the names provided were feminine, I have pulled all of the masculine fairy names from the original Pixie Hollow game. Some names are repeats from the original post, but I kept them in as I wanted to get this out as soon as possible. I hope you enjoy. Here’s the original post.

~🧚🏻‍♀️🔥 Foxglove

First

Aaron

Ace

Acorn

Agate

Ajay

Alabaster

Alder

Alec

Aleron

Alex

Anchor

Andrew

Archer

Axel

Badger

Bailey

Baker

Bale

Banjo

Barclay

Basil

Benjy

Bert

Bevel

Birch

Boomer

Boone

Brock

Bruce

Brynn

Buddy

Burr

Burton

Buster

Calder

Casper

Cecil

Cedar

Chance

Chase

Chip

Clay

Cliff

Coal

Cog

Comet

Cosmo

Cote

Covey

Crag

Crane

Cyan

Dale

Dane

Darius

Darrin

Dawson

Decker

Deon

Devlin

Dewey

Donner

Drake

Dug

Dunn

Dustin

Dusty

Echo

Eddy

Edward

Elk

Emery

Erik

Ernie

Errol

Fennel

Fincher

Finn

Fir

Flint

Ford

Francis

Garnet

Glen

Gourd

Gourdie

Grove

Grub

Gull

Hale

Hare

Harris

Hawk

Henry

Heron

Hob

Jacob

James

Jasper

Jay

Kernal

Koto

Lance

Lark

Leaf

Lore

Lute

Lyric

Martin

Maze

Mica

Michal

Nadir

Nester

Oak

Ollie

Onyx

Otter

Peat

Pier

Pine

Quake

Quarry

Quinn

Rain

Ranger

Reed

Richard

River

Robin

Rook

Rusty

Rye

Sage

Sam

Scout

Sean

Seth

Shale

Shoal

Skimmer

Skyler

Spike

Spruce

Sterling

Stone

Tad

Teak

Thatcher

Thistle

Timber

Tiny

Toadstool

Tobey

Todd

Topher

Torn

Torrey

Vail

Valiant

Vern

Vic

Wedge

Wes

Wren

Wynn

Zak

Middle

Air

Almond

Apple

Aspen

Autumn

Badger

Bark

Beacon

Bear

Bitter

Brave

Bright

Brisk

Broom

Bumble

Candle

Cedar

Chilly

Citrus

Cloud

Cloudy

Clover

Cocoa

Copper

Cricket

Crow

Cub

Dapple

Dash

Day

Drift

Eagle

Elm

Evening

Falcon

Far

Fern

Fig

Fire

Fleet

Flicker

Foggy

Fox

Frost

Frozen

Funny

Garlic

Green

Hail

Hasty

Hawk

Hickory

Holly

Hurry

Ice

Ivy

Jelly

Jumpy

Lemon

Light

Lightning

Lime

Little

Lock

Lotus

Magic

Mango

Maple

Merry

Misty

Moon

Morning

Moss

Mossy

Mountain

Muddy

Never

Nickel

Night

Nimble

Oak

Orange

Otter

Parsley

Pear

Pebble

Pepper

Pine

Plum

Pollen

Pumpkin

Purple

Quick

Rain

Rainy

Rock

Rumble

Sage

Sandy

Sea

Shy

Silk

Slight

Snow

Sour

Speedy

Spider

Spring

Squall

Star

Storm

Stout

Strong

Sugar

Summer

Sun

Swift

Tangle

Thunder

Tiny

Toad

Tumble

Twisty

Water

Whiffle

Wild

Wind

Winter

Wrinkle

Last

Beam

Bee

Bell

Berry

Breath

Breeze

Bug

Button

Buzz

Chill

Chime

Cliff

Cloud

Clove

Crash

Curl

Dale

Dance

Dash

Dew

Din

Drop

Dust

Ear

Elbow

Eye

Feather

Field

Fig

Flame

Flap

Flash

Fleck

Flight

Flip

Flipper

Fly

Fog

Foot

Forest

Freeze

Fruit

Garden

Gem

Glade

Glimmer

Glow

Gourd

Grace

Griddlee

Gust

Heart

Hill

Hop

Horn

Hush

Jewel

Knee

Lake

Light

Lock

Loop

Lull

Meadow

Mello

Mint

Mist

Moon

Muddle

Muse

Newt

Noise

Nose

Peal

Pebble

Petal

Plume

Pond

Pool

Ray

Ripple

River

Roar

Root

Row

Ruckus

Rumble

Sand

Shadow

Sky

Smash

Song

Spark

Sparkle

Sparrow

Speck

Spirit

Splash

Spring

Sprite

Sprout

Stem

Stone

Storm

Stream

Stripe

Swamp

Swirls

Thistle

Thorn

Toad

Tree

Twill

Twist

Vale

Valley

Vine

Weather

Web

Whirl

Whisk

Whisper

Willow

Wind

Wing

Wings

Wink

Wish

#Disney Fairies #Pixie Hollow #pixie hollow online #fairy #fairy names #Tinker Bell #Tinkerbell

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