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November 17 - November 21, 2025
Tartiflette?”
MDRRRRRRCWWHUSHSISJBSHS
She was stunning—a
Mimi
and the fact that she might, after all, be prettier than him.
Omg
He wanted a quick word with her to inform her that he was actively in the process of dying,
Ptdr
All exceptionally good; he could not appreciate it fully, however, because he was dying.
Just that mdr
a gentle hand in his hair—blackness
Omg
Between his gutting and her hands, this had been a real orgy of self-sacrifice.
Et vous trouvez pas ca chelou
our Fyren, I mean—didn’t
Hihi
“Should we have let him die?” The answer came more readily than the question had. “I couldn’t have.”
“Seeing him so hurt was—it was—” Aurienne stopped trying to describe it, because words were insufficient. No utterance could capture the fear she’d felt when she had pulled off his blood-soaked cloak and understood how close he was to Hel’s final embrace. The touch of his fevered hands had no grammar; there was no orthography to the pain of her heart squeeze.
Love
“He’s more important to me than I would wish him to be,” said Aurienne. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re more important to him than he’d like you to be, too.”
When he was gone, Aurienne allowed herself to fix Mordaunt’s hair. A living Mordaunt would never permit his hair to be in this state; the mess made him look like he must be dead. It was the excuse she made for herself, anyway, as she ran her fingertips through silver-white strands. There was no excuse for brushing a gentle hand along his cheek.
Je meurs
returned—still not quite himself; his eyes were unfocused and his greeting was uncharacteristically affectionate (“You’re back. I missed you”).
MDR
“I’ve got to tell you, darling, this is awful.”
DARLINGGGGGG
“—but I’d really rather be suffocated by your thighs.”
Mdrrrrr trop honnete
“I will never reject your deofol again,” said Fairhrim. “And I’m sorry I did.”
Awww
He woke up hard. The dream had involved a woman—possibly Fairhrim, but he preferred to tell himself that he didn’t remember.
PTDRRRR
Osric, however, had no reason to go down, now that Fairhrim was up here.
In love
He had just thrown my mother into a wall. He went for my throat; I went for his. Mother never woke up. Father died by my hand. I was fourteen years old.”
Oh bb
“You require faults in your lovers?” “One or two, judiciously chosen.” “Hah,” said Osric, who had many to choose from. Not that he wished to be her lover; it was simply a fact.
Mdr oui oui
“You really are delicious.”
Hjiiiiiii
It occurred to him that he would like to steal a dance.
Omg dansez
“We should dance.”
Omgggggggg
“No one can see your indecent ankles from down there. It’s only me.”
Only me hihi
“You are a lovely picture.” “I thought I was an uptight little fusspot?” Aurienne was rewarded by one of Mordaunt’s brilliant smiles. “Do you know,” he said, “sometimes I don’t mind being wrong?”
Omfg
Besides, they were indoors, sort of—as well as outside: a bit of both, all at once.
An in between place
The hand that had been decorously perched at her waist slid into the small of her back.
Omgggg kiss
Mordaunt looked at her mouth like he thought of kissing it. He was a very good actor.
Mdr no actor at all
And, because Aedan was watching—and only because Aedan was watching—Aurienne rose to her tiptoes and ran silk-clad fingers through Mordaunt’s hair. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t give her time to change her mind. He pulled her in close, put a hand around the back of her neck, tilted her head upwards. Then came the tender apocalypse of his lips on hers.
YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSS
He held her against him rather possessively for a kiss that meant nothing.
"nothing" bien sur
She would never cross over. And he was burdened now, with the memory of a swiftly beating heart, exhilaration and pleasure, and the weight of regret. He wished he could unkiss her.
Oh non bb
A slow horror dawned on her face. “Mordaunt?” “What?” “How—how are Dreor made?” There was a long silence. Osric said, “Fuck.”
Omg
You killed one of your own for the protection of my Order—” “For you” was Osric’s swift correction.
“Someone is going to die at Swanstone, and I can’t have it be you,” said Osric.
“You won’t let us get caught,” said Fairhrim. After a beat, she added, “I trust you.”
AAAAAH
He and she sat in the moonlight as lover and beloved. He hadn’t paid attention. He had been stupid—gods, so stupid. He no longer owned his heart.
Omg oui merci
It hadn’t been love at first sight, but at last sight—gods, at last sight— Far above, the moon hung like a promise.
