found this in my unsorted docs folder…you know when you read your own writing and think ’huh. that..wasn’t incoherent’? its nice to be able to prove to yourself that you were able to produce content at some point

—

A few days after Kel’s Ordeal, Buri sat up with one leg dangling off of Raoul’s bed, watching Raoul roll over to shift the plate of cheese and fruit to a safer perch on top of his windowsill, just within reach of his large arms.

“Raoul,” she began, casually. “Do you want to get married?”

Lord Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak tumbled off his bed with a garbled sort of squawk. Buri watched him disappear onto the floor in idle amusement.

When he resurfaced, Raoul’s normally ruddy face had gone a distinctive shade of red. “Um,” he managed, spectacularly, unable to meet Buri’s gaze.

“Great-Aunt Sebila isn’t hiding in the drapes, Raoul, you can relax,” Buri said, half-wickedly, as she stretched out over the sheets, fully undressed. Hers and Raoul’s no-nonsense tunics and breeches, well-worn from years of service in the King’s Own and Queen’s Riders, were tangled together on the floor closest to the door of Raoul’s private quarters.

Raoul made a face. “Not funny, Buri,” he complained, hauling himself back into bed. Buri wasn’t a late riser by habit; lifelong service as the Queen’s bodyguard and a family line of bodyguards had made her appreciate the value of rising with the sun, and she enjoyed the relative quiet of the dawn. After tumbling into Raoul’s chambers that first night, however, she’d had the pleasure of experiencing quite a few morning lie-ins. Raoul was just as capable of waking up early, or any hour duty called, but he liked to sleep in when he could. He was liking it a lot more now Buri had started going to bed with him.

“I’m not joking,” Buri went on, shoving down the fear that clawed up her throat, threatening to leak into her voice. Rationally, she knew there was no need to panic over this; they were both adults. Raoul had professed his love out loud, and rather proudly at that, more than a year ago, and continued to reaffirm his affections on the regular. She had no reason to be anxious. “It was a serious question.”

Raoul looked at her then, sharply, like he had sensed her nervousness anyway. He was a good man, and more, a good commander; he could read people’s motives and intentions in an instant. Buri shared the same skill; they both had good instincts, which had earned them their positions, and each other’s respect.

His eyes softened almost immediately, although she could tell from the hunch in his shoulders that he was still embarrassed about the topic. Her heart fluttered a little; Raoul had a way of being sweet and earnest that made Buri, hardened and brutally practical K'mir warrior or not, melt. Just a little.

“Buri, I – I wouldn’t ever want you to have to leave the Riders,” he told her, shy despite his bulk and build. Buri still marvelled at how such a large and commanding man could fold in on himself when he talked to her, alone in his chambers, about private things, things he had never told anyone else. “I don’t – whatever my family says, I don’t have to get married, not if you don’t want to give up being Commander.”

“Always so considerate,” Buri couldn’t help but tease. It made the realization – the confirmation – that he would have asked her to marry him had he not understood that to marry him was to forsake her command over the Riders less daunting, less intense in a way she had not expected. He would have asked. He had thoughtabout it. “I did say I wasn’t inclined to gain a half-deaf great aunt by marriage.”

Raoul nodded feelingly. “Is it possible to perhaps lose a half-deaf great aunt by marriage?” he asked, hopefully, eliciting a bark of laughter from his lover. He smiled, and edged a little closer to press a soft kiss to Buri’s temple.

“Tell you what – marry me, and I’ll come up with excuses to get us both out of all the family gatherings they can throw at us,” Buri offered, leaning into his side. “Including Great-Aunt Sebila’s.”

“As wonderful as you are, I am still subject to imperial commands,” Raoul said glumly. Nothing would possess him to be cheerful in the face of family gatherings. “They would probably do their very best to ignore you if we did marry, though.”

“If that’s the case, I’m not going to complain,” Buri said. Raoul put a large, beefy arm around her middle and wriggled until he was comfortable. They fell silent together, enjoying the quiet and each other’s presence in peace.

“So?” Buri finally prompted, her eyes half-lidded. She found Raoul very easy to fall asleep against.

Raoul grunted questioningly, equally unwilling to pull himself from the half-doze he had fallen into, with the sun’s rays filtering in through his window and falling over him and Buri to give the whole room an ethereal sort of feel to it. Buri stuck her foot against the inside of his thigh so he jerked at the sensation and protested.

“Do you want to get married?” she repeated, twisting around to look him in the eyes. Raoul held her gaze with a look she couldn’t quite decipher, veteran commander or not. “If you don’t, it’s fine, I just – ”

“Buriram Tourakom,” Raoul interrupted, holding one of her hands in both of his. “I would be honoured to accept.” So saying, he brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it, as if she were a court lady he had met at one of those balls they both hated so fervently. Buri couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. She tugged him close by their held hands to kiss him on the mouth, long and languid.

“It’s Buri,” she corrected, when she finally pulled away, a lopsided grin on her face. Kissing Raoul did that to her. Raoul looked at her in wonder, then gave her a teasing grin of his own.

“Lady Buriram of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak,” he countered, and laughed when she groaned, kissing her fingers, then the side of her mouth, then her neck, and lower still. Buri ran her hands through the black curls that tumbled over Raoul’s head as he moved down her body and sighed happily. Lady Buri, she thought. That wasn’t so much of a mouthful. She could get used to that.

I found this one really hard to draw for some reason and kept putting it aside when it didn’t look how I wanted- HOWEVER, as soon as I finished it I was very pleased and it might be my favourite one so far.

Visit my shop if you want a print of your own fave books!

Today’s LGBT+ Character is;

Kelandry of Mindelan from Protector of the Small by Tamora Pierce-Asexual

Art by @bewildereye

Requested by Anon

Status: Alive

Protector of the Small

Finally finished this piece from several months ago! Better late than never. Keladry of Mindelan and her two horses, dog, and sparrow. It was nice to work on some traditional art and take a bit of a break from the digital.

Another Tortall oc for a fic i hope to (one day lol) write! Ammë, a baby elemental created by Chitral (from a sentient fragment of his consciousness) to keep him company in the absence of the Dominion Jewel. Curious and obsessed with humans, she eventually ventures outside of Chitral’s domain to explore the human realm. She has (limited) power over the earth (plants/flowers/etc, mostly tied to her emotions) and much more controlled power over the weather, gaining her the title amongst humans: “The Weather/Wind Witch” :)

(also her design is not final probably as about ¾ of the way through this i was like “Ah. Rapunzel” LMAO,, so yeah,, might play around with her design a bit more haha)

sincere apologies for the fuckup with the askbox link!!!  it’s all fixed now, and I should be able to receive any questions/commissions!

(putting this in the t. pierce tag because my KelandAlanna shirts got so many notes – thanks fytortall!)

rain-sleet-snow:

IN THE PERFECTION OF CONDUCT AND VIRTUES, 10/?, PG-13

In the summer of 456, Maura of Dunlath takes up a post as Princess Kalasin’s lady-in-waiting.

Maura has almost taught Zenoby of Naxen to speak up when she can’t keep up when Midwinter at the Palace veers off its carefully choreographed schedule. The first any of them know of it is a fourth-year page - Warric of Mandash, Maura recognises, one of Keladry of Mindelan’s partisans and a cousin of Lynet’s - hurrying in, face dead white, and saying: “Your highness, a message from your brother Prince Roald.”

Prince Roald doesn’t borrow pages to send messages and he doesn’t send badly scrawled notes. Kalasin takes the paper at once, reads it, and almost before her eyes have flicked to the end of it hands it to Maura and rises to her feet. “Page Warric, my thanks,” she says, bestowing one of her lovely smiles on him. “Tell my brother we shall be in the audience chamber directly.”

Maura is staring blankly at the note, which says simply that Vinson of Genlith has left the Chamber and requested an audience. She hands it to Amoret, who muffles a gasp. Maura has no idea what that’s about. So Genlith wants an audience; what’s the problem?

Read on AO3