little lord left undone.

to say she'd woken up with more excitement on this morning than he has all year would be an understatement. enough so that valerica , while combing out her daughter's hair in front of the mirror had to remind her stop fidgeting , serana , and sit up straight. you aren't a child anymore , you're growing into a lady. act like it. through the mirror she could see the way her mother chewed inside her cheek. keeping more words at bay of the upcoming visit. eyeing the way her daughter held to a small box in her lap , her fingers running along the raised , ornate pattern in self-soothing motions before opening it to eye the few letters that had passed between hans and her.

the trio and garan waited patiently on the mist-slicked shore while the sea sat restless beneath the bruised morning sky and as the boat inched ever closer , for some reason , it was harder and harder for serana to breathe. with her hands folded demurely in front of her , her heart somersaulted in the cage of her chest. fluttered wings of a bird desperate to break free. a murmur of words she can not hear between her parents lay beneath the pounding of icy waves against the sands. garan is kind enough to rest a hand on her shoulder and offer the ghost of a smile down as the gangways allow the party to disembark the ship.

her toes curl in her boots , reminding her to keep still. the family's advisor gives her shoulder a squeeze before departing to greet hanush and his retinue with harkon and valerica. and there they stand. together again. the wind acting as the perfect cover for why their cheeks burn so bright. " hans , " met with a small curtsy. a gentle bow of her head. she notices how the last traces of boyhood were beginning to melt from his face, so she can truthfully respond with , " you do too. " teeth nibble at her lips. serana's blue eyes glance up at her mother who watches from the distance to determine if the greeting was enough before giving a nod of approval. and dismissal. they were still young after all.

and that's all she needed.

to hell with every bit of it. this time was for them.

his cheeks warm defensively against the chilly air, thankfully having already been buffeted noticeably red from the journey and saving him an obvious embarrassment as she takes hold of his hands and leads him forward. a smile plants itself well into his features, as if he's suddenly been shocked to life and pleasantly surprised by her palpable excitement. and then she stumbles, like she's second guessing herself; and of course he notices. it's ironic in a way, the way he's learned to start taking up space — purposefully to his uncle's chagrin — and he has her to thank for freeing him from that shell of his childhood; and here she is, growing older, being fitted for the box she's being forced into. ❛ no, i'd love that! ❜ he reassures her, squeezing her hand gently. ❛ we'll have to take him out before it gets too cold. ... serana, i— ❜ hans steals another wary glance over his shoulder, judging how much distance they've put between them and their families now, emboldening him to speak more freely.

Annoying. Ugh! How can a squire be so endlessly annoying?! Henry should know better -- but clearly, he doesn't. As it is, it's too simple, their carousing, with his slipping oh so easily into worn, battered shoes. With Hans, he feels like he's boyhood again, watching him carefully as those bow-calloused fingers busy with work. Soon enough, Henry's about as dashing as he can be sporting more color in his jawline than his god damned clothes -- but it'll suffice. He now sweeps up that wrist before his lord can flutter away, his laugh proud, eyes twinkly, and the music below just starting to froth. "Sulking? And how are you meaning?" he questions. "I'm betting like how you'll be be busy doing when your feet aren't trampled on. All your scowling for the lady with the most battered toes by the end of the night, ey?"

the hand is easily caught and he welcomes the exchange of grasp, lips curling to a skittish smile: a tug, not to pull himself away, but to pull henry closer. a roll of the eyes is enough to suggest the comment might have hit a chord once truer than hans would have liked to admit, but still he smiles. " very funny. deflect all you like. " his own wall flowering days are over. all that love can't help but hold the door for jealousy time and again; but what sort of married man scowls at other women — who is he to covet what he can't rightly have?

[ #SANCTIFISOL ]   ────────   original interpretation && portrayal of the vampire SERANA VOLKIHAR from bethesda's ELDER SCROLLS franchise. this portrayal is fandom independent && heavily headcanon based. with a focus on religious themes and engaging in horror imagery. taking inspiration from all forms of vampiric media , authors including but not limited to plath , woolf , dostoevsky , brontë , and shakespeare , as well as musical artists such as hozier , florence & the machine , sleep token , and ethel cain [ . . . ] crossovers are preferred & no knowledge of elder scrolls is needed to interact [ . . . ] loved by ouija , est 2018 , 21+ , she/her. / / promo credit. art credit.

But it is real, isn't it? It feels it. Past his skin, there churns the kindling of a flame bloated fat by Skalitz.

And he would smell it, this bloody vision, with all of Sigismund's rancor and the pungency of flesh like broiled sow and pigtails. Fuck, it never feels distant, unfortunately, and neither far nor paler as it would shutter in his brain-gaps like a squatter in a room. It'd bear its fingers, too, for shoveling, wrought taloned like a falcon as its anchors all its daggers in the meat of his swallow. There, he feels a bottled scream gather, throat trembling with its muscles as it violently clamps it -- but no. He'd not beg in his nightmares. He'd not plead on his knees to leave Hans alone. Hans?!They are the devil, they are, and why is Hans with them?! Wake up! Find your sword! As the Lord says, Hal: you're to grant no such quarter for the Devil's folk.

(You have to fight. You have to bleed for Hans. Don't be weak. Fire is in his nose, his ears, stinging his scalded-tender flesh, but that axe swinging down to Hans' belly...!)

all the jostling and how could he not rouse from his slumber, ready to stand guard for what battle awaited? " henry? " it's a soft call at first, hoping to reach him though not startle him, soothing some wild creature of the plains in much the same timid way. but that's not going to be enough. a hand to his forehead and he's cleared away the sweat forming, treated back the tangled locks left in their wake. and he tries again. " henry ... you're having a nightmare. "

"Oh, come on, Hans. Give it a rest already, will you?" Stop fussing! "Isn't me they're looking to go parading down these halls."

But he gets it. He's busted, the bloody devil, with those angry bruises on his jaw and a fresh smattering of scrapes from a very handsy rosebush. He looks like an unnameable terror, quite frankly, a mess that fair maidens the world over will shriek at and bolt from. Still, such were the tells of a knight-errant, aren't they now?, or at for Rattay's little darling and resident servant. Henry grumbles. Hans fixes his collar and the silk's so...expensive. It's Hans', and on it still, he can still make out his soaps, his oils, and the fragrance of a walk.

hans has played these motions so many times now: the primping and preening to acceptable degree and beyond, and he'll have no less than a state of exemplary presentation for such a companion, lest it reflect just as badly on himself. the clothing suits him well, or so he's observing, at least well enough for a man with more muscle than he, but hans can't help but laugh. " sureee, " he trails off, unconvinced, fiddling with the unseemly small buttons at the collar. " now henry, if a fair young lady asks you for a dance, even if you are sulking in the corner, you'd be hardly in a state to turn her down. and i half expect you'll get at least one offer. "

In his keep

"My heart is completely in his keeping.

The world would be empty for me without him,

and I could no longer survive."

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