59. Secrets

“If you let me give you a bath, I’ll sing you a song,” Maglor wheedled.

Elrond and Elros looked at each other—then shook their heads.

Maglor sighed. Being a fa... Being responsible for children was exhausting. How had his parents managed seven? No wonder Fëanáro had spontaneously combusted by the end...

“I’ll tell you a story?” he offered.

A longer pause of consideration, and he held his breath...but no. Another round of shaking heads.

“I’ll... I’ll...” Maglor could only think of things that were not appropriate for these children, like “I’ll teach you how to use an axe” or “I’ll let you go out hunting alone” or “I won’t tell Atar you snuck out to see Findekáno again” ...all things that would work better on slightly older children, or just his brothers specifically.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he said desperately.

An even longer pause. And then, at last—

Two nods. Maglor sighed in relief, shoulders slumping. What secret? He hadn’t a clue, but he did have an entire bath to think of one.

I kind of love this idea??

What if the reason Essek’s often at home and rarely leaves Rosohna is that he’s responsible for maintaining the magical, dunamantic darkness over the city? Surely that must need to be re-cast occasionally? Most magic has a time limit, after all, and even the magical items in the EGtW that create magical darkness have limitations. Essek seemed so proud of the darkness bubble too, when Caleb first asked about it. What if at least one of Essek’s responsibilities is kind of like Gilmore’s role in maintaining the protective barrier over Whitestone in C1?

of course you can!

5.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Truth be told,” Nolofinwë said, “I don’t know. Something about brotherhood and ties that bind across all else and blood, probably.” He braced his legs against the edge of the rock and pulled hard, drawing the rope up hand over hand. “What were you doing down here, anyway?”

“There’s a vein of quartz that runs through this cliff,” Fëanáro informed him, “and I wanted a better look at it.” They were close enough to reach out and touch, which was exactly what Nolofinwë did, kneeling down and grabbing his brother’s forearm and hauling him up over the edge of the precipice. The rope harness fell to the ground around them, and Fëanáro looked at once annoyed and relieved.

“You risked your life by freehand climbing a cliff alone to have a look at some rocks,” Nolofinwë answered.

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“I doubt you’d understand, anyway,” the older nér said. “I want the crystal for a project I’m working on. An improvement to my lamps.”

“I might not be a craftsman or a smith, but I’m not stupid. If you tell me what it is, I’m sure I can follow.”

“Hm,” Fëanáro said, his voice taking on a familiar condescending air. “Thank you for saving me, but I’d like to be alone now.”

“Whatever you want,” Nolofinwë shrugged, picking up his rope and going back to where Roccolórë was grazing. “Don’t feel obligated to thank me.”

“I won’t.”

~*~

17.

“Love is overrated.”

Findekáno raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes,” Russandol replied lightly, grinning at him. “Love makes you do absolutely idiotic things.”

“Like what?”

“Marrying me, for one. That clifftop rescue, for another.”

“Of course,” Findekáno said, rolling over onto his side and kissing his husband. “Idiotic things all.”

“I’m right,” Russandol answered, kissing him back, voice heavy with newly-kindled want. “You know I am. You’d be better off if you didn’t love me.”

“Maybe so,” Findekáno answered, “but then who would braid your hair when you get cross?”

Another kiss.

“Hm,” Russandol answered, “I could ask Laicanyérë.”

“You could,” Findekáno said, kissing him again, and then once more. “But Laicanyérë wouldn’t kiss you while he did it.”

“Mm.”

“Or lie on top of you and work the knots out of your shoulder.” Another kiss.

“Hm.”

“Or suck you off,” Findekáno finished, looking up at his husband with heat in his eyes.

Reconstructionism is mainly focused on doing something as similar as possible to how the Ancient Egyptians practiced their religion, whereas a revivalist approach allows for modern reinterpretation, changes based on modern peoples’ (and gods’, if you’re a woo type -which I am) needs and situations.

It’s a post I wrote a month or so ago. You can find all meta posts under the #zevran meta tag, but here’s some links.

Zevran the Seducer - some musings of how/why he was so good at seduction, and some of the lasting impact of this on his life. (I say some erroneous stuff about Taliesen in this one, I didn’t know anything about him at the time. World of Thedas 2 states he was purchased from a Tevinter wreck at Llomerryn.)

Zevran and his Feels - This is basically my argument against the theory that Zevran will always have difficulty expressing feelings, especially regarding whether or not he could have the capacity to say “I love you.”

Theron Mahariel Sabrae

Trained to be the next Hahren for the clan and pass on the oral histories and mythologies of the Dalish, Theron has done his very best to stay true to his people since being forced to leave Clan Sabrae for the Wardens. A sword and shield warrior whose go-to tactic is charging people, his fighting doesn’t often reflect his personality. He has a ‘long face’ and comes off as sad or melancholy on first impression. While serious, somber, and placing a high value on duty and honor, he loves and cares deeply, and is overall friendly and kindhearted. His relationship with Zevran grew slowly, but they are deeply committed to each other.

In the years after the Blight, Theron has built a relatively small but close-knit community of Wardens borne out of his tendency to walk off with/recruit anyone who seems like they need help. He regularly sends recovered historical texts and artifacts to the Dalish, and secured a new homeland from Ferelden for them. Despite his abiding love of his people, his deep piety, and his persistent tendency to think of himself as Dalish first, Warden-Commander of Ferelden second, and Arl of Amaranthine third, his bitterest enemy, both on the personal and political fronts, is another Dalish - Mahanon Adahl'lin Lavellan, the Lord Inquisitor.

Theron’s post-Blight adventures are found in the Wardens of Ferelden series.

Mahanon Adahl'lin Lavellan

A poor fit to the Inquisition in temperament and ideology, Mahanon’s main reason for attending the Conclave was to prove a point in his bitter ongoing political battle with the Dalish Warden-Commander of Ferelden about the future of their people. He got off to a very rocky start in the Inquisition, given his unwillingness to concede a point once chosen and his scorn for all things un-Dalish. Over time he warmed to a select few of the people around him- Sera, Dorian, and Josephine. Josephine he came to love, and his surprising, if not easy friendship with Dorian Pavus caused an uneasy shift in some of his views that he is deeply reluctant to own up to.

This internal tension and his revelry in the power being Lord Inquisitor has brought him, has kept him from returning to the Dalish or keeping in contact with any of his clan or family. As Dorian’s friend he added dabbling in necromancy to his magical skills in ice and lightning, and as Josephine’s love he bent his mind to politics, placing Gaspard on the throne of Orlais in the first move of a long-term political scheme that he prays will benefit the Dalish and give him prestige beyond that of the Warden-Commander’s in the eyes of their people.

Theron and Mahanon belong to @siphilemon.