Neverwinter Forest eat your heart,

she allows herself to lean into him fully, pressing her silver frame against his darker one, her fur mingling with his as though they were already one. such gestures would have embarrassed her once, a woman so proud and composed, but here, now, with her betrothed before her, she finds no shame in the tenderness. so she preens at him, delicate teeth combing through his thick winter coat as a soft hum escapes her lips. she coos, her voice warm and melodic: it fills me with pride to know i will stand beside a man who sees so clearly the path before us. she murmurs into the groove of his thick neck.

she is uncharacteristically gentle now, her sternness tucked away like a blade sheathed for the night. though she knows he will see that side of her soon enough, she finds herself wanting to linger in this moment of softness. it is for him, she tells herself, for the man who has been chosen to stand beside her. he should know the tenderness she can offer, even if it is not her natural state. so when he speaks of their wedding, her ears flicker, and a flush warms her cheeks. the idea of such an intimate union, of vows whispered under the gaze of their gods. speak to hárkonungr, faithman. i will entrust the arrangements to you. let it be done swiftly, so that we may stand together as husband and wife before the gods and our kin.

her cheeks burn at the thought of their wedding night, of the life they will begin together. the idea of being whisked away, of being his and his alone, stirs something deep within her. she cannot meet his gaze for a moment, her composure faltering briefly before she regains herself. when he speaks of last names, she looks up at him, bearing the warmth in her cheeks. i will become a mánison, she declares firmly, a smile playing at her lips. and so will our children. we will share one name, for one family.