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undiscovered-horizon · 4 months

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Could I request for Zevlor to be persuaded by gn reader to go on a picnic & they accidentally confessed their feelings to him as they were trying to reassure him that they're happy to spend time with him?

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Zevlor is a busy man - there's no doubt about that. From the moment he wakes up until he falls asleep, the only thing on his mind are the lives dependent on him. Which isn't exactly bad, although it might get a little, well, overwhelming for everyone involved.

A wise person once said that "duty is given by others, responsibility taken by yourself". But Zevlor seems to have misunderstood that rather questionable quote and so he treats most things around him as his responsibility. It's not that he wishes to be in control, he just cares a little too much for his own good, never wanting to leave things up to fate if he can help it. And if there's someone who knows how fickle fate can be, it's Zevlor.

He's been looking progressively worse these past few weeks. His red skin began to look sickly ashy, bright eyes lost their twinkle. Once strong hands tended to lose their grip from time to time. Zevlor painted a picture of a man not only exhausted but tormented by his own mind and the awful thoughts that lie within.

Which is precisely why you've decided to take matters into your own hands. If Zevlor doesn't want to take care of himself, always saying that there's no time for such unimportant things, you will do it for him. At first, the idea elicited a rather juvenile embarrassment inside you but then you found it to be motivating. The things we do for the ones we love...

Zevlor is forced away from the scattered manuscripts in front of him as the heavy basket filled with fruit, meats, cheeses and fresh bread is set on the table with a loud thud. He lifts his gaze, only to give you a questioning, confused look.

"You look to be in dire need of unwinding," you state. Whether your plan works or not is now up to your rhetoric.

The tiefling's expression softens. A small, hesitant smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Perhaps I do," Zevlor answers with reluctance. "But there's still much I should tend to. I can not lie back while so many have entrusted their lives to me. It's too dangerous."

You cross your arms on your chest. "Last night, when you were peacefully sleeping, no calamity has befallen your people. I think they can manage on their own for a few hours."

"We surely can!" yelled a tiefling who was just passing by.

Zevlor steps away from his desk, no longer hanging over things that probably ruin the aforementioned peaceful sleep. The turmoil inside his head is easily visible - part of him wants to stick with the worries that keep him up at night, while the other side of him yearns to lose the anxieties for one afternoon.

The tiefling look away for moment, fiery irises staring off into the distance. Then Zevlor's eyes come back to you but their softness has turned into something sombre. One way or another, there's immense doubt inside the man in front of you.

Zevlor offers you a kind, albeit awkward smile. "Still, a figure of your sort ought to have their company sought out by many more important people. Do not waste your precious time on an old man like me."

But he's going to have to try harder than that to dissuade you:

"Alright, you do have a couple years on me," you give his statement a half-hearted nod, "but that's hardly the most important thing about you, Zevlor. Why, dear Gods below," you dramatically put a hand on your chest, "wouldn't I want to spend my free time with a man whose patience, loyalty and virtue make me want to be a better person?" Your statement elicits a nervous chuckle from Zevlor. He'd be embarrassingly flustered and red in the face if it wasn't for his already fire-like shade of skin, "A man, for whom I began to feel lo-" You hang your voice the moment you realize what word almost left your mouth. Zevlor looks at you with raised eyebrows, disbelief written all over his face. Shame and embarrassment creep up on you as you feel your face heat up. Unable to look the man in the eye anymore, your gaze drops to the floor. "I didn't mean to just drop it on you like that. Can we pretend I didn't say it?"

Then, you feel a warm anxiously brush your cheek. It hangs against your skin for a moment, as though its owner is pondering his next move, before quickly retreating. "I'd rather we don't," Zevlor answers softly.

#zevlor x reader #zevlor x you #zevlor fanfiction #zevlor fanfic #zevlor imagine #bg3 zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 imagine #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you

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haru-sen · 6 months

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halsin and zevlor, the first time/moment they are something more than diplomatic allies (maybe fluff, maybe their first sex time together, feel free!) before halsin has to go with aradin to the goblin camp (ada-melodies!)

I uh...short fiction LMAO. (It's only 3,250 words)

The Nature of Guardians

Set pre-Tav and the events of Through the Gates of Horn and Oak. SFW

“They’ve been following us for the past hour,” Tilses said quietly. “Some of the guards are getting nervous about the wolves.”

“Remind them to hold their fire,” Zevlor said, his voice carrying. Damays already warned him that this was druid territory. So when a group of large bears, wolves, and badgers started to follow from a distance, he understood that these were no ordinary animals. Maybe some were simple wild beasts, but there were likely familiars and several wild-shaped druids in the mix, and it would not do to court their anger.

Zevlor stayed in the front while Tilses and Asharak went down the line, reaffirming orders. Cerys was at the tail of it, making sure no one was left behind.

“We’re taking the Risen Road to Baldur’s Gate,” Zevlor called out to a dire wolf that lingered close to the road. “We are refugees from Elturel. We are just trying to follow the Risen Road to Baldur’s Gate. There are children here-”

The wolf locked eyes with him, a disconcertingly sentient intelligence on that lupine face, before it darted off. Zevlor exhaled, crossbow still slung across his back.

They made it another fifteen minutes before an enormous cave bear lumbered out of the grass. It trundled straight toward him, not charging, but its intent was clear.

Zevlor halted and resisted the urge to reach for his sword.

There was a shimmer of golden light and the bear stood upright and became the biggest, most solid-looking elf he had ever seen.

“Oak Father’s blessings on you and yours. My name is Halsin, the Archdruid of the Emerald Grove. You look like you’re in need of some assistance.”

Before today, Zevlor had never paid Silvanus much mind. And yet, that was the god he was thanking when he and his people bedded down in a real shelter for the first time in weeks.

“My apologies, Archdruid. The young man in question was trying to aid in kitchen duties, however-” Zevlor pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to think of the foul smoldering mess Danis created. “He is, at best, a novice.”

“You can just call me “Halsin,” Zevlor. We don’t stand on ceremony here,” Halsin said, sitting on the stone table Zevlor was using as a desk. “I came to apologize for Marcoryl’s outburst. It was an overreaction. Granted, the scent was foul, but accidents happen and druids should be made of sterner stuff. He’s just…” Halsin stared off to the side. “High-strung.”

“I think it would benefit everyone if we limit who’s on mess duty to a...trustworthy few,” Zevlor said, mustering a small smile.

“I have no complaints. I appreciate your people helping to clean up the Hollow.”

Halsin might not have complaints, but his second, Kagha, certainly wasn’t pleased by their extended stay and she was not alone in her feelings.

“I know our presence is a burden,” Zevlor said quietly. “I’ve sent scouts out to forage, but some haven’t returned. I’m...concerned.”

Halsin stroked his chin. “There are some troubling developments in the region. Some of our familiars are reporting goblin movements. You might want to limit your people’s range. I know ogres have been spotted in the area.”

Zevlor swore under his breath. “My scouts aren’t equipped to handle ogre marauding parties.”

“Most of my people are not either,” Halsin said, shaking his head. “We’ll have to monitor the situation closely and share information.” He smiled ruefully. “You might be sick of my face by the end of this.”

“No, I don't think that will be the case,” Zevlor said hesitantly, meeting the wood elf’s green eyes.

Halsin’s smile widened, a little too knowing.

Heat stirred in his blood, and Zevlor forced himself to look away.

“I think we’ve finally retrieved the last of Loic’s belongings,” Zevlor said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Cerys took point on that one. It was best if he minimized contact with Mol, for both their sakes.

Halsin leaned against a stone table, skimming some ancient tome while measuring out dried herbs.

“Loic’s a big whiner,” Nettie said cheerfully as she bandaged a squirrel. It was scowling at him, Zevlor was certain. “Can’t believe a couple of bairns pinched his pouches. He’s only making a fuss because he’s so ashamed.”

Zevlor managed a small smile and a grateful nod to the healer. “I...don’t disagree. But some of the children have had rough upbringings. All this time on the road hasn’t been good for their social graces.” Though thieving to survive was something Mol knew long before they left Elturel. He was keenly aware of the fact that his people had a reputation for being criminals, and he spent his entire life combating that viewpoint. But times changed. Now he would rather they break the law than die for it.

Halsin nodded absently. “The matter was hardly worth bringing to our attention,” He set the book down and finally looked up at Zevlor, and his smile widened into something more personable. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I-” Zevlor looked away. Supplies were dwindling too quickly now that the scouting expeditions were halved. The children and the other workers received priority rations.

Three scouts failed to return, and Zorru spotted ogres, as well as some other creatures he did not recognize patrolling the nearby roads.

“Of course not,” Halsin said, shaking his head. “Hold on.” He left the library.

“You know,” Nettie said, turning to him. “He really enjoys your conversations. Your knowledge of the history of the pantheon is impressive. I didn’t realize the relationship between Umberlee and the Oak Father was so...nuanced. I admit that I didn’t expect a soldier to be so well-read, no offense.”

“Ah, well, I suppose that’s fair. Many are not,” Zevlor said, looking down. “I received some...liturgical training in my youth.”

“Ah, a cleric of Helm then?” Nettie asked.

Zevlor shifted back and forth on his heels, tail winding tightly around his leg. “I was once a paladin.”

Nettie nodded amiably.

“Will you stay for lunch?” Halsin asked as he returned, carrying a large bundle wrapped in leaves. It smelled like smoke and meat, and Zevlor felt his stomach clench.

“I couldn-”

“No, I have to train Apikusis and Rath on advanced wound treatment techniques,” Nettie said briskly. “Enjoy yourselves.” She gave Zevlor a cheeky wink, before hurriedly exiting.

Halsin began to unwrap the leaves, the scent of herb-roasted venison filling the room. “Join me.”

“I should really g-” Zevlor began.

“I got up early and hunted it myself. I might have borrowed some herbs from Inwe, but she is getting a portion for her help,” Halsin said, his smile placid and inscrutable. “You are not taking anyone else’s share. You haven’t even been taking your own.”

Zevlor exhaled slowly. “Is it that obvious?”

“No, but I know the state of our storerooms and I know what kind of man you are.” He clicked his tongue. “Eat with me, please. Meals are better shared with friends.”

Nodding in resignation, and not a little enticed by the smell, Zevlor sat down with the Archdruid.

“Tilses has done wonders for organizing the stockrooms,” Halsin said, grinning up at him.

Perhaps because there wasn’t much left in the stores to organize. But Zevlor did not say that. He sat by the fire with Halsin, sipping the too sweet tea that the Archdruid preferred. The wood elf was stretched out on the grass, back resting against the split log that Zevlor sat atop.

“Tilses is excellent at logistics. If things had not gone the way they did, she would have made a fine quartermaster for our division.”

Halsin sighed sympathetically. “So why the Hellriders then? Why not the Order of the Companion? Seems more suitable for a paladin.”

Since leaving Elturel he had often asked himself the same thing. He did not regret joining the Hellriders, merely how he left them. But his path would have been much simpler if he had been a Companion.

“Some of it was reputation. I was an idealistic cadet with a young man’s pride,” Zevlor said hesitantly. “The Companions were a newer order and lacked the prestige of the Hellriders. And I suppose on some level, the Companion itself, while a wonder...never sat quite right with me.” The Companion, the heatless second sun over Elturel was called Amaunator’s Gift, and it was meant to prevent darklings and other corrupt creatures from assaulting the city. It was raised after the events fifty years ago, when the former High Rider was discovered to be a vampire and the Hellriders fought a losing battle against the undead. It was also the device Zariel used to drag Elturel down to Avernus.

“Prescient,” Halsin said softly.

“It was mostly a young man’s vanity,” Zevlor said. “And the desire to show them that an untrustworthy tiefling could be just as good as the rest of them.” He smiled thinly.

“You made Commander.”

“And lost it all anyway,” Zevlor said, waving his hand dismissively. “No matter, my priorities changed, as they needed to.” Zevlor stared at the fire, impressed by how easily the lie slipped off his tongue. Of course, his priorities changed. But the sting of his exile was not so easily dismissed. He worked for this his entire life, and what did he have to show for it? A broken oath and a dwindling population of civilians. “I shirked my duty once, and paid the price.” He stared at the fire. “But I will not make that mistake again. I am here for my people’s sake.”

“Admirable.”

“A necessity, Halsin. Not a virtue,” Zevlor said sharply.

“I did not want this role,” Halsin said quietly. “After my predecessor fell to Ketheric’s Dark Justiciars, someone had to bring our people home. The details differ, but the sentiment remains the same, don’t you agree?”

Zevlor nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Halsin procured a pipe from his pouch. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I used to enjoy a pipe on a rare occasion.” Halsin carefully lit it and took a puff, the fragrant smoke drifting up into the sky. He sighed heavily and then extended his arm, offering the pipe.

“No thank you. I gave it up.”

“Why?” Halsin asked mildly.

“It contributed to an image unbecoming of a Hellrider,” Zevlor said, recalling the High Rider’s words.

“Hellriders can’t smoke?” Halsin asked, a little incredulous.

“A tiefling one should not,” Zevlor said, bitterness twisting his smile.

Halsin snorted loudly. “Your commanding officers were bigots and fools.” He extended his arm, offering it up again. “It’s just us out here. Indulge yourself, Zevlor.”

Zevlor hesitantly accepted the pipe, relieved that Halsin very kindly did not say, “but you are no longer a Hellrider. Those rules do not apply to you.” They both knew it, but some things did not need to be spoken aloud.

He accepted it, taking a small draw. He held the smoke in his mouth, a pleasantly aromatic herbal taste, accentuated by the lingering sweetness of Halsin’s lips. It was almost a kiss. He glanced over at the wood elf and blew out a mouthful of smoke, wondering if the other man would taste just as good.

Halsin smiled at him in the firelight. “You look very regal ringed in smoke, Hellrider.”

“Thank you for sharing, Archdruid,” Zevlor said, returning the pipe to him.

Halsin just brought the pipe back to his lips and closed his eyes, taking his next breath with obvious pleasure.

The evening meetings were becoming a habit. If they did not see each other at dinner, well then Halsin would often seek him out later. When asked, Zevlor would merely tell Tilses that they were sharing intelligence and addressing the concerns that came from communal living.

Tilses and Kagha did not have a good working relationship, so it went mostly unquestioned.

“I...overindulged at one point. It is best that I do not partake now.” Halsin leaned back against the stone wall, and next to him, Zevlor was very aware of how much bigger the other man’s body was. He sipped his own glass of mediocre red. “I much prefer tea and honey anyway.”

“Don’t you mean honey diluted with tea?” Zevlor asked, the wine loosening his tongue. It was easy to get comfortable with Halsin.

Halsin’s answering laugh was a deep rumble that resonated in his core. The man had a dangerously disarming sort of charm. People underestimated him for his cheerful rustic attitude, something Zevlor was guilty of. But Halsin had all the cunning of his multiple centuries, he just hid it better than most.

Zevlor’s tail twitched and he took another sip of wine, determined not to overindulge in Halsin’s presence. The druid made him feel too relaxed, too comfortable, too sloppy. And that was something he could not afford to be right now. His responsibilities were to his people. He had already let them down so many times. Allowing himself to be distracted by Halsin’s considerable charms would be irresponsible.

“You look grim, my friend,” Halsin said, reaching over, that rough hand warm on his arm.

Zevlor stared at him, trying to muster a convincing smile, but he had never been good at feigning happiness. It was much easier to be a stern commander, but that approach would not work with Halsin.

“This is my face, Halsin,” Zevlor said, dropping the false smile. “My apologies if you find it disappointing.”

“Not at all,” Halsin said, leaning closer. “It’s a good face, handsome, distinguished even.” He slowly examined Zevlor with a painstaking thoroughness that held the tiefling frozen in place. “This face has character, much like its bearer.”

Zevlor stared wide-eyed at the other man. “I-” His breath caught. Who said things like that to a man like him? Halsin was...He didn’t know what Halsin was. Halsin was not one of his people that he needed to protect. Halsin was not his subordinate. Halsin was not easily defined. “That is quite the compliment,” Zevlor said, his throat suddenly dry. “You’ve rendered me speechless. I can’t remember the last time someone remarked on my visage in such a fashion.”

Halsin frowned. “Truly?”

“I-I was a military man, Halsin,” Zevlor mumbled.

“I’ve heard several of your own people comment on what a fine figure you cut,” Halsin said cheerfully. “You have quite a few admirers.”

“The folly of youth,” Zevlor said, waving him off. “They idealize a former Hellrider, and fail to see him for his many shortcomings. It is something they will grow out of soon. Likely on this very journey.”

“Live long enough, and you will realize that you have many shortcomings,” Halsin said, fingers lightly stroking Zevlor’s arm. “What matters is how you seek to compensate for them.”

“A commendable mindset,” Zevlor’s breath caught as his tail snaked along the back of the druid’s hand. His eyes widened at his own slip, and he hoped that Halsin would not notice-

Halsin chuckled, lightly flicking the tip.

Zevlor gasped, and turned his head, the heat of that touch traveling up his spine. When was the last time someone had played with his tail like this? When was the last time someone made his pulse race in frantic anticipation? Back in Elturel? Before the Descent?

It had to be a mistake. Halsin was just being friendly. Halsin didn’t mean to-

Zevlor looked back, to see Halsin watching him with those hooded eyes.

“Too much?” Halsin asked his voice husky.

Zevlor shuddered.

No, Halsin was too old not to know what he was doing.

“Perhaps I’ve had too much wine. I find myself unfocused,” Zevlor murmured, refusing to address the issue.

“Is it really the wine?” Halsin asked innocently. “I find myself distracted as well, but I haven’t had a drop.”

Zevlor’s breathing grew ragged.

“I’ve seen how you look at me, Zevlor. How your tail arches toward me when we’re alone. I’m not ignorant of tiefling body language.” Halsin’s fingers rubbed his tail and Zevlor gritted his teeth, realizing the treacherous appendage was brushing against the other man’s thigh. “I’m just letting you know that the interest is not one-sided, and if you wish to act on it, well, that is an option.”

Zevlor shut his eyes. “Halsin, that would be unwise.”

“As you say then,” Halsin said, his tone friendly and relaxed. “I have no desire to pressure you.”

“I know you wouldn’t do that,” Zevlor said. He opened his eyes to see Halsin staring wistfully at his mug of tea, still smiling, but the expression held a melancholy that he recognized intimately. Halsin led his circle much like Zevlor led his people. And it would be an imbalance of power to take a lover from those who depended on him. Halsin had similar views. Neither man was alone, but there was a certain kind of solitude that came from the position.

The poignancy of Halsin’s expression struck a chord and Zevlor’s chest tightened. He looked away for a moment, wondering when he had become so timid? Had he lost his spine alongside his oath?

Gritting his teeth, Zevlor, reached over, his hand resting on Halsin’s arm, savoring the feel of bare skin. “If we were going to pursue anything personal, we would have to be very careful,” Zevlor said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Halsin’s eyes widened. “I see.”

“Do you?” Zevlor asked dryly.

Halsin lifted Zevlor’s hand to his lips, his smile bright once more, like the sun shining through the trees. The druid kissed his palm gently, the warmth spreading along his shaken nerves and up through his chest. “I will be very careful with you, Zevlor.”

“It’s not me you have to be careful with,” Zevlor said. “It is those who rely on us.”

“Well, they are not here right now,” Halsin murmured, reaching out to run his fingers along Zevlor’s jaw. “And I think you deserve a great deal of care. I think it has been a long time since someone treated you with the thoughtfulness you deserve.”

Zevlor’s breath caught, the gentleness of Halsin’s touch taking him off guard. The damn man was too insightful, or perhaps he was too obvious in his infatuation. Still his arm moved on its own, trapping Halsin’s hand against his face.

Halsin smiled then and leaned closer.

There came a grinding sound as the chamber doors began to open. Zevlor hissed, dropping back as Halsin released him.

“Sir, the guards report mercenaries wandering around outside. They’re making so much noise, they’ll bring something down on us!” Tilses scowled as she stormed into the room. “We need to infor- Oh.”

Zevlor sipped his wine, eyes on the ground as he leaned away from Halsin.

The Archdruid sat a respectable distance away, also drinking his tea.

Tilses regarded them for a moment. “Oh good, you’re both here. I don’t know what you want to do, but there was no immediate threat, so we weren’t going to act without your permission.” “Thank you, Tilses,” Halsin said, sounding as unbothered as ever. Zevlor envied that skill. “I suppose we better go see what they want.” He climbed to his feet. “Would you come with me?”

Nodding in resignation, Zevlor rose.

“We can continue our discussion afterward,” Halsin said, his tone casual.

“That isn’t necessary,” Zevlor murmured.

“On the contrary,” Halsin said, smiling at him. “I find it a subject of great personal interest, one that requires my full attention.”

Still reeling from that declaration, Zevlor followed the Archdruid outside, to see what misfortune had come knocking at their gates.

#halsin x zevlor #bg3 #fanfiction #writing #zevlor #light spoilers for lore #light spoilers for character backgrounds

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sleketon666 · 19 days

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Nine People I'd Liked To Know Better

Tagged by @drizztdohurtin , thank you sm!!

Last Song I Listened to - currently listening to Another One Bites The Dust by Queen during my breakfast💥

Currently Watching - not watching any TV shows at the moment, but I've been watching a bunch of different series of true crime documentaries on yt for the past few weeks

Sweet/Savory/Spicy - spicy for sure🔥🔥🔥

Relationship Status - single

Current Obsession - my obsession with Rolan and Zevlor from bg3 are currently saving me from the lack of any other hyperfixation :")

Sorry if you've already been tagged, and also no pressure! ^^ @sillyppi @marbobar @slumpsnail @lostinforestbound @graysparrowao3 @sagscrib @beardedladyqueen @transgortash @autistichalsin

#tag game

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omgkalyppso · 1 day

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For Meldiara, Teldryn, & Caryalind:

8: How did each member realize they were polyamorous? Did they always know, or was there some sort of epiphany?

20: How do each of the members deal with jealousy? How intense is the feeling?

43: Have cultural dynamics played a part in how the polycule operates?

For Etoile, Astarion, Halsin, Komira, Locke, Zevlor, Wyull, Zavorys, He Who Was, & Voriya:

25: Does the polycule ever have get-togethers or dates where everyone is present? What are they like?

44: Are any of the members keeping their polyamory a secret? Why?

61: Has anyone experienced a particularly messy break-up while in the polycule? How did everyone handle it?

Thank you for the ask! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Let me start by saying that I feel bad talking about Caryalind generally because he's like, kinda in some way, someone else's oc? But anything I say, I mean respectfully and with no like, general authority with regards to how other people play with him or how his creator(s) intend him.

Meldiara, Teldryn, Caryalind

8.How did each member realize they were polyamorous? Did they always know, or was there some sort of epiphany?

Their relationship is Meldiara's first ("real") relationship and so polyamory for her, is something to be surprised by and discover.

Teldryn's been in love (and lust, more commonly) with more than one person in the past. I'll headcanon that he knew of a few non-monogamous adults in poorer corners of Morrowind, where either lovers pooled funds and influence to get by or where whores and concubines balanced public, private and personal affairs; and that for himself it was something he always knew.

Caryalind's had lovers that he's regret, and has his betrothed who is a friend / conspirator / partner-in-crime more than a romantic partner. Meldiara and Teldryn coming onto him would have been distressing enough if not also for his affection for them. Their continued interest in the face of his truths and boundaries is the first time Carya sees potential in his own romantic future, whether with this couple or otherwise, with love on his terms now a concrete concept that he might find here or a hundred times because of them.

20: How do each of the members deal with jealousy? How intense is the feeling?

Teldryn doesn't get jealous of Meldiara and Caryalind's time together. Meldiara's strange and transparent enough in her affection towards him, that he wouldn't expect to be at risk of losing her love, even if Caryalind suddenly decided to give Meldiara an ultimatum. However, Caryalind is more shy about expressing sincerity and physical touch, and Teldryn does experience bouts of half-repressed jealous anxiety when Carya flirts with others, or, years down the line, initiates other relationships. Teldryn deals with it by writing overly sincere letters with Meldiara to Caryalind when they're separated, and with excessive physical touch and taunting words in private.

Caryalind is easily jealous with much lower intensity about many, many things; and with much higher guilt when it is of the different dynamic between his partners. He's fussy and sarcastic, and more prone to making "just kill him" jokes in the earlier stages of their relationship, and later deals with it by outright asking for reassurance: "You still like it when I [x], yes?" and they'd know he needs a few compliments to get through his week.

Meldiara's history with "not-real" relationships has left her with a few romantic anxieties that trigger jealousies in specific circumstances. She has the strongest insecurities that would need to be assuaged with time, expressions of trust and pretty words. This would have dictated her embarrassment about Teldryn observing her (their shared) infatuation with Caryalind; and ensured that she had to be the one to initiate most of the boundaries within their relationship.

43: Have cultural dynamics played a part in how the polycule operates?

If Carya had been some poor fuck, they wouldn't have. Since he intends to, and presumably one day does return home to play politics, it turns their dynamic into a secret in every setting except with friends (Lucien, Brynjolf, Hadvar, Voadline (oc) etc.), and with family (Farknir (oc), etc.), and in private.

Étoile, Astarion, Halsin, Komira, Locke, Zevlor, Wyll, Zavorys, He Who Was, Voriya

25: Does the polycule ever have get-togethers or dates where everyone is present? What are they like?

Absolutely not. asdkjfhgajksdh

Most of these relationships do not happen simultaneously; for example Étoile, Astarion and He Who Was don't start something romantic until decades after Zevlor, Wyll, Zavorys, Komira and Locke have died; and Astarion doesn't have something with Voriya until a few more decades after that.

The largest shared dates would be:

1.Étoile, Astarion, Wyll and Zavorys, and they would be discrete. Dinners made to look political, private meetings behind locked doors of warm, Underdark baths, dances that are also public appearances, sparring in full view of Wyll and Zavorys' children for a crowd, etc.

2.Étoile, Astarion, Halsin and Zevlor, and they would be less discrete. Hands held, sat on and around each other like lazy cats, sharing kisses in parting, and lacking artifice and discretion when accessing closed doors and sick beds and other locations of usual privacy without hesitation or ceremony. A date however, might be something as simple one trying to tell a tale to the other three who won't stop pawing at each other. Sharing objects and artwork and achievements with each other.

The largest get-togethers would involve a lot characters still doing their own thing, very few shared activities / interests / expectations among the bunch, but they can be polite and sociable (if weird).

44: Are any of the members keeping their polyamory a secret? Why?

Wyll and Zavorys would for privacy's sake and in attempt to curb gossip / mistrust in the Dukedom for how they might favor their neighbours.

Komira might keep how close (sexual, romantic) she was with Étoile secret while she feels she should be exclusively in mourning in relevant Locke-didn't-make it-to-the-Gate au's.

61: Has anyone experienced a particularly messy break-up while in the polycule? How did everyone handle it?

I haven't envisioned one up to this point, but I'm soooo tempted. If someone hurt Komira, Étoile would kill them behave normally.

#long post #oc tag: meldiara #oc tag: étoile #oc tag: zavorys #oc tag: voriya #astarion #halsin bg3

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