The Embrace of Love and Death

tagged as ordered via taglist:

I suppose the most disturbing part of them that survives throughout their existence is their greed for viscera and humanoid flesh. Ellith is a cannibal through and through. They try to refrain their taste for dead people when their friends are around because they've understood how uncomfortable it makes them feel, but with Astarion they feel free to enjoy whatever they fancy.

Come on, Astarion - Let them enjoy their severed rotting foot...

And the vampire spawn is kinda amused by it, although he'd prefer if they'd be more careful, because it's quite tricky to get rid of stains of rotting flesh on cushions and carpets. And it smells.

Also, Ellith prefers their meat and offal raw, and nibbling on bones is one of their fav treats.

Tagging according to the taglist 🌟 @theya-art @unovafarm @spillingteanotpermitted @missfortunetherogue @elceewunjo

"Sweetheart," Elenion said from the doorway, "please tell me you're not revising lecture notes the night before our anniversary."

Gale startled, one hand sweeping over the papers with all the subtlety of a cat knocking a goblet off a table. Which was not the behavior of an innocent man.

"Gale."

"Len," Gale said, looking down at his hand still spread uselessly over the papers. "I… appear to have reacted in a manner that has made this significantly more suspicious."

Elenion's eyebrow rose.

Gale held his gaze for a moment, then sighed. "I was only reminiscing, darling. I'm sorry I woke you."

When Elenion stepped closer, they saw their own name at the top of the nearest page, followed by a single word underlined twice.

Vows.

These clearly weren't lecture notes.

Their gaze moved over the desk: page after page in Gale's careful hand, whole sentences crossed out and rewritten in increasingly desperate strokes.

"Gale," they said slowly, "are these drafts of your wedding vows?"

Gale glanced down at the papers. "…Some of them."

Elenion looked pointedly at the desk.

"Most," Gale amended.

"All of them?"

There was a pause.

Gale cleared his throat. "All seventeen of them, yes."

Elenion let out a soft laugh. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I may have suffered a minor linguistic crisis," Gale said with a small, embarrassed smile. "I wanted to get them right."

Elenion’s gaze caught on the first line of the nearest page. "I have looked to the stars all my life," he read aloud, "yet none have guided me so surely as the constellation of your gaze."

Gale closed his eyes. "That was from an early draft."

"I can tell."

He glanced down again, his smile softening. "It's beautiful, though. A bit absurd, but beautiful."

Gale opened one eye.

Elenion picked up another page before Gale could object. “Your beauty is a theorem for which my heart has no proof, and yet all evidence compels belief.”

Gale made a strangled sound. "I will remind you," he said, "that these pages were never meant to be subjected to bardic critique."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have married a renowned bard."

"A tactical oversight."

Elenion’s gaze flicked to another page and stopped. "Gale. This one continues on the back."

Gale's hand twitched toward it. "It was very late when I wrote that one."

Elenion smiled and shook his head. “Did Tara read these?”

Gale let out a deep sigh. "She was merciless. She once advised me that vows are traditionally expected to end before the guests begin aging visibly."

A laugh slipped out before Elenion could stop it. "Very wise of her."

Gale reached for the pages, but Elenion lifted them just out of reach.

"No, I need time with these. They're historical evidence."

"They are private evidence."

"Evidence that you loved me so much you temporarily forgot how language works?"

A few months ago, I wanted to make a new OC that could help me work through and understand my grief. This was also around the same time I was reading The Silmarillion, and I was completely enraptured by the character Nienna, a Queen of the Valar associated with grief, sorrow, pity, and courage. Her name references the Quenya word for tear, nie. Tolkien's works mean so much to me on a truly fundamental level, and learning of Nienna and feeling so seen in the way Tolkien portrays her relationship with grief was really powerful to me, and I immediately grabbed my steam deck and created her. This line from the Silmarillion takes my breath away:

Mightier than Este is Nienna, sister of the Feanturi; she dwells alone. She is acquainted with grief, and mourns for every wound that Arda has suffered in the marring of Melkor. So great was her sorrow, as the Music unfolded, that her song turned to lamentation long before its end, and the sound of mourning was woven into the themes of the World before it began. But she does not weep for herself; and those who hearken to her learn pity, and endurance in hope. (Valaquenta)

My tav Nienna is an homage to the beauty that Tolkien created in his Nienna, as she helps gives me strength while mourning weaves its way around my life.

Her surname, Helaván, was inspired by Lady Hel of the Norse pantheon, a compassionate, protective, and empathic goddess who is the caretaker of the dead resting in Helheim, and a goddess who I am devoted to in my own life! In my own praxis with her, I see her as a goddess deeply attuned to mourning, loss, and grief, and she's incredibly impactful for me on a daily basis. I combined her name with the Old Norse word ván which can translate to hope (if my online old norse-english dictionary was right lol), because to me she represents hope in a world of suffering and grief, and thus, reminds me to also remain hopeful.

She's my weepy little ball of strength and I love her so much 🥰😭

The two names resonated at the same time, perfectly in synch. And when they heard Astarion’s voice leaving their lips, Ellith pressed their hand against their mouth. As they did so, Ellith hurt  their tongue with their own teeth, much sharper than usual.

The creature in front of them was a half-drow, tall but rather skinny, their naked form showing ribs and ridges where there should be flesh and fat. Their long red curls were spread on the mattress like an abstract painting, and their golden-violet eyes where shining in the darkness. Deep, healed scares were adorning their whole body and the tattoos on their face were wrinkled by a shocking expression.

It was a form they were used to seeing in mirrors. The perfect reflection of their sick flesh.

Given the way this Ellith was staring at them, agape, the real Ellith didn’t dare look down at the body they were inhabiting. All they could say that there was something wiggling between their thighs, and they could already picture what it was.

“Oh, no…” they whispered, swallowing painfully.

“You look amazing.” The other Ellith purred with their own signature purr, gawking at them shamelessly. “I mean... I look amazing.”

The bard rushed to the mirror standing in the corner of the room, only to see… nothing. Nothing at all.

All right.

“What did you expect, darling?” the other Ellith chuckled, lying back on the bed.

The bard was connecting the dots, but the initial shock wasn't receding. 

"That kick was unnecessary though..." The other Ellith winced, massaging their thigh, but there was a hint of amusement and endearment in that voice. "How dare you damage that lovely body of yours?"

"I... didn't... What in the hells, Astarion?!"

He laughed.

How could they –- he… HE be so relaxed?

After a few more seconds of bewilderment, the bard finally accepted their fate and looked down at their own body: Flat chest, pale skin, muscular but thin… Ellith's eyes lingered on the penis, hanging there, free and… well, a little sticky.

“It’s all right sweetheart, you can play with it.” Ellith’s voice rose from the bed, much more amused than should be appropriate in such circumstances.

The bard hadn’t said a word, too afraid to hear Astarion’s voice in their mouth again. When they refocused on the other Ellith – that is, the real Astarion – he was gently cupping the tiny breasts of his new form, toying with every little curve.

“Hey…!” the bard scolded him, once more surprised by their new voice. “Don’t you dare arouse my body now!”

Startled, the real Astarion quickly ungrabbed himself – or themself – and grinned innocently at his clone. “Apologies, darling. You know how much I love them.”

“How can you take it so…. lightly?” the bard burst out, their voice reaching Astarion’s adorable high-pitch note. They forced themselves not to marvel at it.

He kept on grinning.

Ellith understood.

“Oh gods, Astarion… what have you done?”

His grin turned into a mischievous smirk, which allowed Ellith to realise how unsettling they looked when they were wearing the same expression.

“Honestly darling, I had no idea this would work.”

Ellith let out a deep sigh.

“Don’t worry, it’s only for 24 hours.”

“Ah!” the bard rolled their eyes. “And that should reassure me?!”

They walked towards the bed and sat down, rubbing their forehead. And that’s when the bard realised how famished they were. Not the same kind of hunger they could feel after days of self-inflicted starvation. No. It was deeper. As if something was gnawing at their bowels. Their tongue rolled over their fangs.

Astarion didn’t seem to have noticed anything, since he was playing lazily with the little bush on his crotch.

“Could you please leave my hairs alone?” The bard hissed.

Stilling his hands, Astarion crooked his head in their direction. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Of course he could see it, if not feel it.

“YES! And mortified, and frustrated, and… why did you do this without telling me first?”

He reached out to wrap his arms around the bard inhabiting his body. It felt warm, but the smell of his flesh was more tantalising than it had ever been. Ellith was almost drooling.

So that’s how it felt? That’s what he had to learn to control? Somehow, it felt almost more intimidating than the Urge itself.

“I told you… I wasn’t sure it would work. And besides, it’s much more fun to watch you struggle through this.”

“You, bastard.”

He pressed a long, warm and wet kiss on their cheek. “You look so pretty.”

“I look just like you.”

“Precisely.”

The bard tried to repress a giggle but failed dramatically. They knew Astarion had been yearning to see his face again, it just felt weird to be the one wearing that face. Inappropriate, even.

The gentle pressure of those soft little breasts against their back wasn’t unpleasant though; warm and comforting.  One slender arm sneaked around Ellith’s waist to rest on the tight belly. “A chance I had a good meal a few hours ago, or else you’d be positively starving, darling.”

“You mean this could be worse?”

He laughed loudly, barks dripping with sarcasm, and his fingers squeezed the flesh on their hipbone. “Oh, sweetheart… That’s only the basic condition.”

Oh.

Now Ellith understood better. Not only Astarion himself, but the other spawns too, back in the cells. They hadn’t really given them a second thought after watching them leave for the Underdark. Now they could clearly see the danger they represented.

“Don’t be mad, my love…” He whispered softly into their ear, his voice much more vulnerable than expected. “I just wanted to know how it felt to be… delivered from my own body.”

It made sense.

Perfect sense.

The bard relaxed, painfully aware of what it meant for Astarion to experience this: feeling alive, warm, unchained from hunger, in a body free from his past. How could they be mad at him?

Ellith looked at the clock. As usual they’d slept all day and it was already the end of the afternoon.

“Why don’t you go outside, Astarion?” They offered, their voice now soft and gentle. “And enjoy the sun before dusk?”

His eyes, golden bright and purple, shone and sparkled in the darkness of the room. “I… yes… Yes! I can do that.”

A large smile crawled on his lips as he jumped from the bed, the slender body he was inhabiting moving gracefully, which allowed Ellith to admire the lovely shape of their own curves. Their ass could have benefited more flesh, they thought, but there was something adorable in the flatness of their butt-cheeks.

Astarion rushed to the wardrobe to pick up something to wear, and of course, he chose that dress, the one he always wanted Ellith to wear. A gift from him, and his favourite one. It made the bard smile, and they too stood up to put on Astarion’s shirt. “I’ll stay here in the meantime. I'll have a bath or something.”

As he clasped the last button, he walked up to them and pressed another kiss on their cheek. “All right dear, I’ll be back in an hour or so…” He grinned, obviously excited by the sunlight waiting for him outside. “Don’t you get too cheeky with that body while I’m out… We don’t want it to be too exhausted when I’ll come back, do we?”

An impromptu giggle, which sounded weird through Astarion’s voice, escaped the bard’s throat.  “Don’t worry, love, I’ll keep your body safe and sound, and I won’t venture too far in my… exploration. Not without you, at least.”

"I know, I trust you not to." He smiled, his hands resting on their cool torso. "And if you behave, I might let you experience a brief nibble, just enough to satiate that little craving of yours." 

He winked, clearly even more excited by what would come after dusk, and Ellith felt their new member harden at the perspective of it. An uncommon blush painted their pale cheeks, and of course, Astarion didn’t miss any part of it.

“My eager little slut…” He purred with Ellith’s deepest, sultry voice. “Be patient, will you?”

Leaning against them, he kissed their lips – or his own – with a soft moan, tongue sneaking in as to have a little taste of himself. Their growing erection was almost painful now. He pulled away and stared lovingly at his own face.

“You’re not making it easier…” Ellith whispered as they perfectly mimicked his signature smirk, glancing down at what was standing proudly between their legs, half-hidden by the loose shirt. “But I’ll find my out of… this.”

The laughter that left his lips was endearing and melodious at the same time, and Ellith couldn’t help marveling at their own voice. “I’m sure you’ll know how to deal with it, darling.”

With an amused snort, Ellith squeezed his butt – theirs – and gave it a gentle spanking. “Now go, my love. And enjoy the sunlight while you can. I'll be here when you're ready. I'll always be here, my love.”

If anyone wants to try this, I'm gently tagging: @theya-art @optimisticgrey @elceewunjo @missfortunetherogue @unovafarm @spillingteanotpermitted @starlit-serpent @archduchessgortash @gortashsrighthand @lucretiouswept @wasted-sam @scoldingdarjeeling @lilhumanoid @thepalelawyer @burnt-by-marigolds @ranger-jahen @echoechowhiskey 🌟