Neverwinter Forest Moon, a hole of light

i'm obsessed

sólhárr listened intently, his heart swelling with every word she spoke, feeling the authority and grace of a seiðkona rising within her voice—a role she held naturally, as if forneskja had been waiting all along for her to take her place at its heart. her strength was magnetic, and he found himself utterly smitten by the confidence with which she instructed him, like a queen directing her realm. this was always meant to be hers, he thought, filled with pride.

when she leaned in and kissed him, sólhárr’s heart hammered, and his smile softened, almost boyish in its shyness. then it will be so, he murmured, the quiet vow between them. yet, a thought tugged at him, one rooted deep in his homeland’s traditions. almost sheepishly, he looked to her, a glimmer of hopeful mischief in his eye.

will you make me a pelt? he asked, his tone gentle yet edged with anticipation. where i am from, the bride wears the pelt of her clan’s home—something to honor the life she’s leaving, while stepping into her new one. he paused, then added, but you… you’re both. you’re moonglow and forneskja.

he could feel her energy sparking like a warm flame, a source of inspiration that urged him to action. with a newfound vigor, he nodded to her commands, ready to bring down a boar, to gather the gifts that would solidify their bond with moonglow.

then i’ll see it done, he promised, the challenge settling in his bones, ready to meet it. a gift worthy of both villages, and for the woman who binds them together.