jade_sabre: (princess bride:  love)
[personal profile] jade_sabre
Fandom: Neverwinter Nights 2
Pairing: Sir Nevalle/Knight Captain (specifically, Tanithar, from my fic Falling Slowly)
Theme set: Beta
Title: Harbor
Rating: K+, if that
Warning[s]: none
Notes: These sentences are incredibly spoilery for the above-linked fic; I felt like writing something fun and happy, and turned to these two. The title comes from the Vienna Teng song of the same name; [livejournal.com profile] loquaciousquark graciously beta'd/half-wrote these. You can find her (beautiful, BEAUTIFUL) DA2 sentences here. Any resemblance between these characters and anyone in my own life is creepily coincidental. I hope you enjoy!

#01 - Walking
The lord and lady of Crossroad Keep are a matched set: silk slippers and leather boots, skipping whispers on stone and thunderous footfalls exactly in time, the one filling the silences of the other; and always, always, their hands are entwined.

#02 - Waltz
“I don’t want them at the wedding,” she said, “no matter what Nasher says; the old Harvest Festival dances will do just fine.”

#03 - Wishes
After every good-night kiss—and there are many—she goes to her window and closes her eyes and asks the stars that this one be the one to take her away; in the end she takes herself, yet somehow all her dreams come true.

#04 - Wonder
He still cannot quite believe that these hands are his, to have and to hold, for as long as he may live (and longer, if she has anything to say to Kelemvor about it).

#05 - Worry
Sir Nevalle,” she snaps, as he frets for the umpteenth time over whether or not he ought fetch another blanket, “I am not a dying old woman, I am simply pregnant, and furthermore it is the middle of summer and so help me if you fetch that blanket I will smother you with it myself.”

#06 - Whimsy
Pink plushy chairs and diaphanous curtains—these are his wife’s decorating tastes, and in the end, it is her Keep.

#07 - Waste/Wasteland
West Harbor smolders around her burned like Shandra’s farm burned and Tanithar kneels on a scar in the dirt (and Shandra’s body bore no scars) gripping a sword and suddenly longing for nothing more than the blue sky (the color of a uniform) and a sun (a smile) to brighten the day.

#08 - Whiskey and rum
Amie may have stood on a roof and gyrated until she fell over, but Bevil tore off his clothing and barged into Oren’s fields wielding an empty bottle and challenged a suspiciously-scarecrow-shaped lizardman to a duel—and lost.

#09 - War
He was born to privilege and with that privilege comes certain responsibilities—but the feeling driving him to the front lines is not duty; it is love.

#10 - Weddings
His sister always wanted him to play the groom and he always agreed and he always turned into an orc chief at the last possible minute and carried the bride off to his cave and locked her in the prison; and his father always belted him when they finally found his sister, sobbing in the wine cellar, two hours later.

#11 - Birthday
It’s hard to say who cried harder: the infant so abruptly introduced to light and cold fresh air, or his father.

#12 - Blessing
Tanithar secretly likes listening to Brother Merring preach on Lathandar; she loves the peace a new sunrise brings.

#13 - Bias
“Oh, shut up,” Darmon says to the drunken companion with his arm around his shoulders; he has taken to caterwauling about the superlative nature of the Knight Captain’s thighs, and the neighbors have started throwing boots.

#14 - Burning
Tanithar has wanted men before—wanted them, had them, enjoyed them, left them—she is comfortable with the process; she does not understand how this man has gotten under her skin and in her veins until want has turned into need and separation into asphyxiation—she thirsts, and sees no hope of quenching it.

#15 - Breathing
Her belly rises and falls under his hands (she is alive she is alive she lives) and she turns into him, all sighs and sleepy unconscious nuzzles—and this, he thinks, is bliss.

#16 – Breaking
One need not look too closely at her heart to see how poorly sewn are its seams; for she is alone, and hungry besides.

#17 - Belief
Tanithar has never been particularly religious, and fighting the battles of clerics and gods long-dead is nearly enough to drive her to apostasy; but the sun continues to rise, and she continues to smile.

#18 - Balloon
Amie had a way of wheedling Tarmas’s more whimsical spells from him; she and Tanith take turns practicing the one that causes an inflated pig bladder to rise high above their heads until one of Daeghun’s arrows puts an end to the fun.

#19 - Balcony
Daeghun disapproved, but Bevil was going through his infatuation stage and agreed to help Tanithar make an addition to her bedroom window; a few weeks later, roses in hand, he marched to her house only to see the latest visiting bard climbing the trellis to claim a kiss, and went away crushed.

#20 - Bane
She hates divine spellcasters.

#21 - Quiet
The night is dark and the horses are still and Tanithar is alone with the silence of her grief; she watches her companion, flat on his back and snoring, and shies away from the peace the sight brings.

#22 - Quirks
The transition from bachelor to married man is one he makes gladly; from normal soldier to mage’s husband, less so: he has never in his life had to worry about whether or not his furniture will simply up and walk away without his permission.

#23 - Question
They never have to ask, do you love me; the only question is, why did it take you so long to say.

#24 - Quarrel
Bull-headedly blindly loyal; flighty, incapable of commitment; callous and cold; impetuously emotional; sharply focused; tempestuously destructive—with all their differences, it is a surprise how little they fight.

#25 - Quitting
It would be easy, so easy, to give into the hunger and devour everything in sight, no longer caring for friend or foe; to be devoured, no longer caring for anything; caring is the true burden, finding friends amidst trials and loving despite distance, yet somehow she refuses to let go.

#26 - Jump
“Then fall,” she says, stretching out her arms, “and I’ll catch you.”

#27 - Jester
Nevalle is not known for his wit, and so wandering the halls of the Castle he is bemused at the wide smiles and laughter that greet his appearance at every turn; it isn’t until he enters the throne room and sees the painting Darmon has commissioned to depict his upcoming nuptials in a metaphorical way involving chains (and is that…a whip?) that he understands, and begins calling for blood.

#28 - Jousting
She insists on learning how, though it is not a pastime he has ever particularly indulged in and her horsemanship is absolutely atrocious; as he lies stunned on his back, blinking dust out of his eyes, he suspects it was simply for the opportunity to loom over him and laugh.

#29 - Jewel
She is emeralds and sapphires and rubies, diamonds and amethysts, opalescence—she is color, glittering amid the hard grey stone of her Keep; she dazzles his eyes and lights his steps, and proves surprisingly soft in his arms.

#30 - Just
She realized that Casavir loved her—and that it would never, ever work—the night he came to her and told her he would kill Lorne Starling on her behalf.

#31 - Smirk
Her lips undo him.

#32 - Sorrow
She awakes in Rashemen with a hole in her chest.

#33 - Stupidity
“I don’t want to join the militia!” Tanith told Bevil; “soldiers are stupid.”

#34 - Serenade
She conjures cantrips over their child’s cradle, dancing lights and soft tinkling sounds, a lullaby, composed in magic and cast in love.

#35 - Sarcasm
“I bow to the lady’s infinite knowledge and wisd—ow!”

#36 - Sordid
Sometimes his wife makes sounds he thinks Darmon would blush to hear.

#37 - Soliloquy
She lies on her back under the dream stone, her companions slumbering around her, warm for the first time in months; she stares up at unfamiliar constellations, hunger coursing through every fractured part of her being; she gathers the fragments that are still her own, and voice them aloud: I love you.

#38 - Sojourn
She has traveled Toril and he has toured the Sword Coast; and never again will either walk alone.

#39 - Share
He loves shaping the nibs of his quills—it is a task that requires knives and precision and skill without unnecessarily fatal complications—and prides himself on his work; she takes his quills to scribble down spells, and never returns them.

#40 - Solitary
Sometimes at night, when the newly-Knighted Captain can’t sleep—when the nightmares of West Harbor burning or Amie or Shandra wondering why magic wasn’t enough are too overwhelming—she slips through her silent Keep and perches in a window seat overlooking the courtyard, and watches the single candle in the second-story window of the gate tower, burning long after all other lights have gone out.

#41 - Nowhere
And where can he turn, and see her smiling at him?

#42 - Neutral
Their daughter enters Ilmater’s service, dedicated to healing any who cross her path; she balances her father’s deliberation with her mother’s free smile, and her parents can only scratch their heads with pride.

#43 - Nuance
Her husband is not an expressive man; yet he knows a thousand ways to say I love you, and she will spend her life learning them all.

#44 - Near
Hands meet, palm to palm, fingers touching the length (callous against silk) then separating and sliding together, pieces of a perfect puzzle fitting together, inextricably entwined; and this, too, is a kiss.

#45 - Natural
They are both surprised at how well she fits in his arms; she murmurs a stream of delight, while he closes his eyes, content.

#46 - Horizon
The Rashemi whisper among themselves: she worships the god of the dawn, but her eyes are fixed on the setting sun.

#47 - Valiant
“And this is how you hold a sword, and this is how you hold a shield—”
“And Papa,” his son asks, dark eyes meeting their mirror image, “how do I be brave?”

#48 - Virtuous
He wants her—she reads it written on his face, the crease between his eyebrows, hears it in the hiss of his breath as she plants kisses on his skin and feels it in his tremblings beneath her lips—and yet he pulls away; he respects her grief, for he is an honorable man; and suddenly, she wants him.

#49 - Victory
The others praise her return as the final defeat of the forces of darkness, beyond what any could hope; they look at each other, one returned from the grave and the other from despair, and know the dearer cost—and sweeter reward—is that somehow, love endured.

#50 – Defeat
Tanithar knocks his knight aside with her queen: “Check,” she says; “And mate,” he agrees, and pays with a kiss.
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