Eithne’s happiness preceded all, pride be damned.

This beautiful, insignificant speck in the expanse.

The wolf swallows, and the hare is gone.
CW: not sure how to tag this really, but psychological torture? Watching yourself get posessed? Also, depictions of gore

Eithne is thirteen, when she learns her body had chosen the hearth.
CW: Body dysmorphia, daddy issues, vague reference to animal death

His daughter would walk the paths that he could not, and he would make sure she didn’t stumble along the way.

Her best memories reside beside the fire.

“You are what I hate most about your kind’s existence.”
CW: torture, graphic depictions of violence

She knows it is not his fault, knows he can only relay what he was told, that his ignorance is fostered, carefully constructed, by this frigid country’s barren heart.
CW: References to violence

They’d chirp and wark at the sight of her, Enbarrin bowing their head in greeting, Jeanne eager to nuzzle her hand.

It was easy, then, to deny him. To resent him and fill the spaces between his absence with scorn and malice.
CW: bullying

Did she struggle, as he did, under the yoke of existence?

“I doubt anyone could look at you and find the mantle of Warrior of Light unfitting.”

“Of course, Eithne has made mention of you many times in her letters.” Oh gods, she has?
CW: references to bullying

That Her warrior would be so weak, enough to fall onto their knees against the Garlean scourge that razed Her lands to ashes...!
CW: blood, depictions of physical injury, violence

n/a

Twenty-five summers, nearly all untold save for two, and of those two it was only the parts touched by the sun, stories now left threadbare by the masses.
CW: blood, allusions to past violence, general DRK questline trauma

Sidurgu is familiar with his rage, made his peace with it, wields it alongside his blade as if they were one and the same. (Takes place after Hackneyed)
CW: violence

Ser Ompagne would know what to say right about now, but Sidurgu was not him, not in the ways that mattered. (Takes place after Taken)

if all she asked of him after saving two realms was a spot of hunting, all the better for Sid.

n/a

n/a

Then, finally, clemency, wrapped in blood-stained auracite— a promise.

n/a

She wishes she would have let him sing forever, that they had danced ‘til the dawn.

It is some time, before Eithne feels comfortable with sharing her stories with the minstrel again.

“Would you have left her to her fate, if only he would live another day?” (AU, where Eithne fully chooses the path of the Dark Knight during HW)

His words bring an indescribable joy to the little Loporrit, a familiar warmth spreading from his chest to the tips of his ears, and down to the pink paw pads of his little ashen-furred feet.