21_days | 21 Days of Valdemar!

Entry tags:

21 Days of Valdemar!

Welcome to 21 Days of Valdemar!

Put on your party hats - it’s time for the Dead Vanyel Memorial Party! Vanyel is OFFICIALLY the Woobiest of the Woobies, and we celebrate in his honour!

WE'RE DONE.

No More Fills posted here! Post to AO3 or FF.Net and post the link here!

Discussion Post | Mod Call Post | Resources Post

Schedule

Day 1 -Aug. 9 - Prompts! You will have seven days to put as many prompts as you'd like on this post. And if you start writing them early, well that's just good planning!

Day 8 - Aug. 16 - Prompting ends, posting begins! You have 14 days to write, draw, and potentially diorama as many prompts as you can.

Day 19 - Aug. 27 - This is the cut-off day for prompters to reply to any questions about their prompt. Unanswered questions are considered enthusiastic agreement.

Day 21 - Aug. 29 - Last day of posting! All fills must be posted by 11:59 PM North American Mountain Time.
Day 22 - Aug. 30 - Party time! You now have the option of going unanon and reposting everything you've done to AO3 under our fancy AO3 Collection. Or unanoning in whatever manner you please.

(Click on the dates for countdowns; the fest is following MDT/Mountain Time)

Rules

For the purposes of this fest, the prompts themselves are warnings. If you have issues with this policy, we recommend either not participating or using Dreamwidth blocker.

Joining the 21_days community is optional for prompters, fillers, and all interested parties; we have some extra content for comm members, but this prompt/fill post, the discussion post, and the mod call post are open for everyone.

MOST IMPORTANT RULE: Posting unanon will be deleted. This doesn't mean you aren't welcome here! And if you'd like the content of your comment PMed to you, contact the MOD CALL post.

For Prompters and Readers

Subject lines should include the series, characters and/or pairing you want. Feel free to be as descriptive as you'd like. Warnings aren't required, but they also aren't banned.
You don't have to write or draw. It's anon, there's no IP-tracking, and we aren't going to stalk you.
Do not comment on other people's prompts to try and change pairings or characters. Post your own version with the characters you want instead.
If you fail to respond to a 'is this okay?' kind of question about any of your prompts by the 19th day, it'll be taken as an enthusiastic yes, no matter what the question is.
There are no subject bans. You may prompt anything you want.
If you don't want to answer any questions, you can say so, and that will work as blanket permission for anything people might want to do with your prompt.
Prompts for non-Valdemar Mercedes Lackey series are allowed.

For Artists and Writers

No claiming prompts, please, as multiple fills are welcome!
Minimum wordcount per fill is 100 words.
All content is allowed and all warnings are optional, but if you want to write or draw extreme kinks** for a prompt that doesn’t specifically request them, you have ask the prompter first.
If the artist requests it, the mods will repost art fills as an embedded picture in a reply to their comment. NSFW art will be labelled as such in the subject line by re-posting mods. Art involving underaged characters in porn situations will not be re-posted as an embed.
RPF of underage people is not allowed. We're not even sure if it's possible for Valdemar fic, but whatever. It's not allowed.

** "extreme kinks" for the purposes of this exchange include but are not necessarily limited to: extreme underage, major character death, scat/watersports/emetophilia, extreme gore, and bestiality. Please use reasonable discretion, and ask a mod if you have any questions!

For Everyone

This is a Choose Not to Warn fest. At no point will any comment be deleted for failure to warn of its content in the subject lines. They will be deleted for rampaging dickery and failure to follow the rules.

Unanon comments will be deleted.

Attempts at policing other people's fun will be deleted.

Prompts posted after the end of the 7th day will be deleted.

Links to off-meme posts posted prior to end of the 21st day will be deleted.

Concerns are to be directed to the MOD CALL post. If posted here, they will be deleted.

Fills that have spectacularly failed to fulfill the prompt/been posted to the wrong spot will be screened. You can request a copy of your work at the MOD CALL post.

The rules may change without warning in response to unforeseen circumstances, like us thinking of better ones.

Discussion Post | Mod Call Post | Resources Post

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Thanks! (lol, I put that in and stared at it for a bit wondering if I had gone to far. And then left it in because it's blanket-fucking crack-fic, I can't actually make it worse, content-wise.)

God I love Vanyel. As a character, he is so earnestly crazy. It's very endearing.

Thanks! And it's totally not over. Not by a long shot. Heheheeeee.

(I'm enjoying writing this far, far too much.)

He stewed in angry self-pity for as long as he could stand, listening to the distant sound of the wind in the courtyard, the creak of the inn settling. It was self-indulgent and selfish of him, but Vanyel couldn't bring himself to regret it. The sorrow dimmed, lessened by him daring to feel it, and that, too, Vanyel could not regret.

He heard a bell chime twelve, the day officially gone, the world outside this room surely a dull and sombre silver.

A breath of air on the back of his neck made him shiver, and the sense that he wasn't alone had Vanyel sitting up and wiping the tears from his eyes. He saw nothing to explain the presence he felt, the room dim in the dying firelight but free of any shadow large enough to contain a person.

Vanyel fetched a log into the fireplace with a thought, prodding it until it caught fire, and bit his lip thoughtfully. "Hello?" he whispered into the expectant silence.

The fire popped unexpectedly, and Vanyel jumped, looking to it and seeing the vaguest suggestion of a familiar face, disappearing as soon as he looked upon it. He smiled uncertainly, wondering--no, it could not be. But if it was...

His next breath was unsteady, catching a bit in his throat. The dull ache in him twitched sharply, a reminder of his earlier plans, and Vanyel blushed bright red. It cannot be--

A lock of his hair fell forward over his collarbone, soft as a caress. Vanyel closed his eyes and lay back on the blue and white quilt. The piled blankets only reached to his knees, leaving the rest of him bare.

Not my hands, he thought, collecting his focus. Vanyel reached above his head, crossing his wrists and pinning them to the bed with an invisible band of force. He licked his lips, trembling as he waited. Not him. But--if I were in the street. And Yfandes was somewhere else. And--someone caught my wrist and pulled me into an alley, and he turned me to face the wall so I couldn't see his face--

A scent as familiar as his own teased him, and Vanyel's eyelashes grew wet again even as he imagined a thick length, hidden under the quilt beneath him, pressing forcefully against his lower back. Taller than me. I can't fight, there's--threats, I don't know, I can't fight. I don't fight.

Vanyel spread his legs in response to an imagined order, and made the thickness under him thrust against him through the barrier of the quilt, the shaft caught in the valley of his ass, threateningly huge. Oh gods, he's going to-- Vanyel tossed his head in mute protest, half the quilt rising from the sheets to toss over his front.

"Don't look, Van." And the band around his wrists squeezed, as though trying to reassure him--The man's free hand came around Vanyel, lifting his tunic above his belt and cupping his shamefully hard cock, squeezing balls pulled tight to his body from fear--it had to be fear--Vanyel gave a surprised gasp, rocking up into the warm hand that had grasped him through the quilt. He was--oh fuck, his cock was dripping into the quilt, and the thick shaft at his back was pressing at his entrance, as though it meant to fuck him through the blanket and clothes, driving the cloth into Vanyel with his cock.

"Please," Vanyel begged softly, into a silence that he couldn't quite forget. The entrance of the alley wasn't far--anyone could look in and see Vanyel pinned up against the wall, moaning and grinding up against his attacker like he was in heat. His wrists were suddenly released, and his attacker spoke, "Get on your hands and knees and I've give you what you're begging for."

Vanyel flipped onto his front, hands pressed into the pillow, his face and mouth pressed into the quilt and his ass raised up in eager offering. His pants slid down his thighs, leaving his ass bared to all who might pass by. Vanyel couldn't fight this, not without consequences, couldn't do anything but kneel before this stranger and let himself be fucked.

He tightened his concentration before he slid an invisible bar of force inside himself, stretching his entrance in preparation. Vanyel slid his hand under the quilt, and reached up to grope himself through the thin layer of his--tunic. He was being stretched, his ass spread open on some stranger's thumb, spread open for the first time in--a long time--the stranger pulled out his thumb, spitting into Vanyel's hole and pressed three fingers back in. "God, you're so eager, Van--been a little lonely?"

His hips were twitching into the soft cotton of the quilt, pushing back into the thickness inside him, and Vanyel could just imagine what he must look like to any observer--A hushed gasp, and the sound of someone rushing away, but Vanyel couldn't think on that, not with the prick forcing its way inside him, with little regard for his comfort--fuck, it was so big!--a hand wrapped around his balls, still wet from being inside him, and Vanyel couldn't possibly fight this--

The flask of salve slid into him easily, hard and just thick enough to make him ache as he took it. Vanyel pushed it in as far as he dared, deep enough that the swell of the base was almost inside him. He thrust against his palm, into the blanket, tightening his body around the unyielding ceramic length trapped inside him. Gods this was perverted.

The bottle twitched inside him, and began to thrust. Vanyel moaned into the bed, back arching as he enjoyed the slick slide of it inside him, the sense of being fucked amazing, almost hurting, but so much better for that 'almost'. "Just a little more," he murmured quietly, terrified that someone might hear, but needing to say it--Vanyel rolled his hips back, helplessly aroused by the cock inside him. It was so good--so thick and warm, opening him wide enough to hurt and just using Vanyel's body like Vanyel might use his hand. No love, just some stranger fucking him--

A startled sound escaped Vanyel's throat as the man behind him pulled him upright, dragging Vanyel into his lap and burying his cock even deeper. "Ride me, Van. Show me how good you are at this."

Ride--? Vanyel shifted his weight, bringing his feet under him for leverage. His attacker had gripped his hips, was gently urging him upward, up until Vanyel felt the tip of the stranger's cock teasing his entrance. If he rose any higher, he'd be empty, no one inside him, and that--Vanyel sank down, taking the cock to the hilt, and then did it again. His attacker spread Vanyel's buttocks apart, watching his cock disappear in Vanyel's willing hole, and Vanyel wanted to beg--just a little more, a little deeper, and it'd be enough--

Vanyel pressed his cock into the quilt, thrusting against it as he used his fetching gift to fuck his ass with a bottle of cheap snake oil. Sweat streaked down his chest, and he was so incredibly close--

Vanyel felt the wet spurt of his attacker's orgasm, filling Vanyel with his semen as he slammed into him one last time. He whimpered, knowing that he'd given the man what he'd asked for, let his body provide pleasure--and it wasn't Vanyel's fault, he'd had no choice--and climaxed, his body tightening around the thick cock inside it, squeezing every last drop of cum from it.

"Gods Van, you look so beautiful like this."

Vanyel shuddered into the blanket, spilling his seed on the cheerful blue and white patterns. His skin sang, pleasure stretching him into a softer shape, relaxation filling him until he slumped bonelessly into the quilt he'd abused.

He stroked the cotton blanket in vague apology, slowly getting his breathing back under control.

(One more segment to finish, I think!)

[Commenter who liked your Tylendel in an earlier response. Anon meme self-identification, so complicated!]

This is all terrific, writer. I'm glad you're getting Van some therapy -- the poor boy needs it badly! I look forward to continuing to watch as Vanyel makes his way into adulthood and finds Tylendel standing there.

I also liked all of your thoughts on Tylendel in your earlier response to me. It works. It works well.

Mmm, delicious!

Wow! Magical self-bondage and rape kink? ...I can totally see Van going for that. After all that self-denial, figures that's how he gets off. Am only surprised he doesn't feel bad for wasting power (or has that guilt not kicked in yet?) AND THEN HE FEELS SORRY FOR THE FREAKING BLANKET. OH MY GOD, VAN.

I can't help but notice that 'Gods Van, you look so beautiful like this' isn't italicised...did someone just walk in on him? XD

This will be multiple parts over the next few days, and I'm not quite sure yet how deep this rabbit hole will go, but here we are . . . ♥

Vanyel sat curled up next to the window, humming softly to himself as his fingers moved carefully over the strings of his lute. He still wasn't fully healed, and he knew that within the hour, the unpleasantly familiar ache would be back.

But the day was warm and bright, a soft breeze causing the curtains to stir, carrying the scent of sweet grass indoors. It was a good day, he thought. And Tylendel would be back soon. Perhaps he'd ask Vanyel to play for him again.

He'd practice a little more, he thought, but not enough that his hand refused to cooperate any further. He wanted to be better, to show 'Lendel what he could do, to see that contented smile on the older boy's face as he listened, and—

Bang!

The loud crash interrupted his reverie, and his fingers slipped, twanging off the strings. He heard Mardic's quiet voice in the other room murmuring as he moved to open the door. That noise was apparently someone's approximation at knocking. A visitor? Now? But—

"If you'll excuse me! No need to worry, just here for a visit—"

Vanyel could hear heavy footsteps approaching. Coming to his room. The room he shared with 'Lendel—

The voice was cheerfully loud, but firm, and…

Familiar?

Before he could do more than jump to his feet, the door slammed open, and Vanyel found himself staring up at a tall young man, brows furrowed over narrowed brown eyes, lips pulled back in a slight curl that Vanyel struggled to identify. He was taller even than Tylendel, shoulders at least a hand's width wider; his blond curls were cropped close, but otherwise—

A spitting image, Vanyel thought weakly, as Staven Frelennye advanced on him with the widest unfriendly smile he'd ever seen.

"You must be Vanyel," Staven stopped just short of him, leaning like he was relying on his height, his very presence to weigh down on Vanyel, with no need to raise his voice or threaten violence; as though the sheer force of his will could make Vanyel take a step back.

It worked. He did.

"I've heard a lot about you," Staven continued, taking a step forward of his own to immediately close the space Vanyel had made. "Particularly about that mouth of yours."

Oh, gods, Vanyel thought deliriously. He hasn't spoken with 'Lendel yet. He thinks I'm what I'm pretending to be. 'Lendel couldn't have sent him a letter; it'd have been too risky. What must he think? I don't dare tell him until 'Lendel—

Staven lifted a hand, and still Vanyel couldn't move, frozen with indecision, stomach twisting at the sight of this person (so very much like 'Lendel, but so very much not). He forced himself to open his mouth, to stammer out something, anything.

"S-Staven, please…"

Staven's gaze flickered, and he paused, one eyebrow raising very slightly.

And then, the door slammed open again, this time without any knock, and Staven spun around immediately, just in time to catch Tylendel in both arms and spin him around, lifting him straight up off the ground with an uproarious laugh.

"Staven! You absolute cad! You monster! I can't believe you…!"

"Is that the kind of welcome I get, after all this time? You can't put that on me, when you're the one with the heart of ice!"

"My heart is beating a mile-a-minute. I just ran all the way from across the field! Savil'll have my head for this, I left her hanging in the middle of a lesson."

Vanyel watched this exchange with eyes as wide as saucers, very slowly sinking down onto the bench again, feelings as though his legs weren't fit to hold him any longer. They seemed to have completely forgotten he was there, holding each other close, looking at each other with matching brown eyes, matching gleeful smiles, matching devoted expressions.

He felt a poisonous stirring in his stomach, uncoiling unpleasantly.

He tried to shove that back down, to swallow it, but it was too late. Tylendel's head jerked to the side, breaking the connection between himself and Staven just long enough for his gaze to fall on Vanyel, though Vanyel couldn't help but feel like for a moment, he still wasn't looking at him.

"…Vanyel? …oh, Havens, Staven, I need to tell you—"

Staven tilted his head back and laughed. "Do you think I haven't figured it out yet? One look at this room is enough. I sure hope you're not entertaining company often, or your secret would be out in a heartbeat." He broke the embrace with Tylendel, turning to regard Vanyel with considerably more amusement and much less menace. "Though I couldn't really help myself. Thought he might still need a bit of a taste of what happens if you mess with my little brother."

Vanyel felt his mouth drop open as Tylendel began to laugh.

Near the doorway, Donni cleared her throat.

"Everything alright in here?" she asked, gaze travelling between them with a wary look. Vanyel startled a little again; he hadn't realized the other trainee was there watching, but she stood with Mardic at her shoulder, looking very much like she'd been prepared to knock someone down flat.

"Everything's wonderful," the twins answered in unison, and Tylendel punched Staven in the shoulder, none too gently.

"I'm sorry, Donni," Tylendel said with as much sincerity as he could muster, while still fighting to tear his gaze away from the cause for his apology. "It really is alright. I'm sorry for him… do you mind giving us a little space, though? We have some catching up to do."

With one last raised eyebrow, and a pause that lasted a little too long, Donni met Tylendel's gaze, then shrugged, slipping back into the other room with her lifebonded and shutting the door quietly behind herself.

There was a moment of silence.

"…me, too?" Vanyel forced himself to say, heartbeat still thrumming so fast he could feel it pulsing in his fingertips. The back of his neck prickled; this room had felt like a safe haven for so long, and now he felt nothing more keenly than the desire to bolt.

Tylendel looked at him quickly, eyes widening slightly, then glanced back at Staven with visible uncertainty. Vanyel saw that hesitation, and felt a cold, prickling fear.

"You're not going anywhere," Staven drawled, slapping Tylendel on the back so hard that the trainee stumbled towards Vanyel with a little squeak. Staven's voice was lower than 'Lendel's, Vanyel thought distantly, but still higher than Vanyel's own. That felt strange, somehow.

Staven's words caught up with Vanyel, and he drew a breath. "Wait, what—?"

Staven strode closer to him, pulling out a chair with one foot. He kicked it to face Vanyel before sinking down into it with a drop of his weight that made the legs creak briefly. "'Lendel and I have a lot to catch up on," he says, and again the twins couldn't seem to resist sharing a knowing glance. He reclined slightly, arms draped to either side of himself, fingers drumming briefly. "But somehow I'm really getting the impression this is where we should start."

Vanyel could only nod, then after a moment, he held up his lute; demonstratively, but feeling a little like he was raising a shield, peering out behind it.

"Just . . . let me get her stored."

Staven shrugged, but that seemed to be enough to deflect his attention for now, leaving Tylendel an opportunity to set in on him.

"Now, you answer me this—"

Vanyel rose, turning away from them both to head to the instrument rack, spending a little more time than strictly necessary, listening to the two voices across the room and feeling a thousand miles away.

***
The rumors about Tylendel and Vanyel—the rumors they'd wanted to spread—had found their way back to the Freylenne holdings with impressive speed. Vanyel half-wondered if this meant he'd be receiving a letter from his parents soon. His father had more than enough interest in keeping Vanyel under heavy scrutiny, he was sure.

Though, unlike Staven Freylenne, Withen Ashkevron was unlikely to hop on a horse and charge down to see what this was all about himself.

"I can't believe you!" Tylendel was doubled over, half in laughter and at least partly in outrage. "With everything going on right now…!"

The remainder of what made up that laugh, Vanyel was sure, was a sense of… pleasure. Tylendel was scolding his brother even as Vanyel sank down onto the bench near the twins again, but he could tell his heart wasn't in it.

Tylendel was thrilled.

And Staven could tell, too. He listened to Tyendel attentively nonetheless, until he abruptly decided he'd had enough of even pretending, reaching up to grab Tylendel by both arms and haul him firmly down into his lap.

Vanyel felt his cheeks go involuntarily, impossibly scarlet, hands clenching on his lap.

"Enough, enough!" Staven groaned, as Tylendel sputtered, laughing again, trying to move into a more upright position. "You're killing me! I want to talk about something more interesting! Do you know how awful it's been? You know how awful it's been. I don't want to talk about it. I want to talk about you, and the rest can come later. Indulge me before your harridan of a teacher comes back and drags me around the pasture by the ear."

"Keep that mouth off Savil," Tylendel said sternly, though with not nearly as much heat as Vanyel would have liked. "She's the loveliest woman I know. Besides, you know you'd deserve it."

"I was kind of thinking the title of loveliest belonged to someone else entirely," Staven said shrewdly.

Tylendel managed to struggle his way free, dropping down heavily onto the bench, halfway between the two of them. At Staven's comment, his lips parted on a little "oh," and he ducked his head, curls tumbling over his forehead. He looked at Staven for a moment, then looked at Vanyel again—really looked at him, and Vanyel swallowed heavily, sitting still and silent, the fierce blush thankfully (mostly) faded from his cheeks. At least, Vanyel thought, he wouldn't look as ghastly pale as he felt he ought to be.

"Staven, this is . . . this is Vanyel," Tylendel managed, finally, with an odd, unfamiliar sort of shyness, gaze meeting Vanyel's as he reached out a hand to him.

Vanyel felt himself caught, felt the prickling fear and discomfort ease away as he gazed at 'Lendel's face. There it was again: that smile, just for him; the curve of his lips, the warmth of his gaze, long lashes heavy over his brown eyes. Vanyel felt himself smiling softly in return as their fingers touched, then tangled together. That feeling of something warm thrumming gently between them, wrapping around him. Safe, and just… right—

"Lady's tits!" Staven burst out, making them both jump. "You'll both drown me. Here I was, expecting some stuck-up, repressed prig that you'd somehow managed to shove face-first into a mattress regardless. Oh, I knew you had to be the one he was fucking," he waved a hand, acknowledging Vanyel's startled look but ignoring his scandalized half-protest. "But from the stories, I expected the sort that spewed poison and then drank it later, couldn't be shut up unless you stuffed his mouth full with a—"

"Staven!" Tylendel snatched his hand back from Vanyel's, launching forward to cover his brother's mouth (his entire face) with both hands. He was laughing again, Vanyel noted, even though he seemed to be trying to stay stern, perhaps for Vanyel's sake. "It's not like that! Vanyel is—Vanyel just has to… well, you remember what it was like for me," he finished, staring at Staven imploringly.

Silence stretched again and Vanyel felt it heavily, pressing at him as though he were on the other side of a locked door and could only just hear far-off murmurs through thick wood; murmurs he knew to be about him.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the twins exhaled as one.

"He seems happy," Staven said, looking at Vanyel. He, meaning Tylendel. "He has seemed happy," he corrected himself. Vanyel noticed with some curiosity that Tylendel jumped slightly, surprised. "So of course I'd have been curious. I've been crawling the walls at home, and this was just too much. I heard about you, heard about—"

His gaze darkened briefly, along with his mood; for a moment, Vanyel caught a glimpse of something deep, and heavy, and raw—

"—a lot I couldn't do damned thing about at home, so leave me be about it," Staven finished with such an air of finality that both Vanyel and 'Lendel drew back slightly in their seats.

Staven caught and grabbed the end of the conversation before it could drag, leaning forward with his elbows resting on both knees, a lopsided grin crossing his features, chasing away any hint of what had been there before.

"So tell me how this all came about."

"Particularly about that mouth of yours." O I BET. ahahahaha this is great. Van feeling excluded is such a sweet, vulnerable touch here.

A!A
Thank you! Haha, I was planning to just go straight at the prompt, but the more I went into "what ifs" I kept discovering more and more things that would spiral out of it . . . Van vs 'Lendel's other relationships was something I'd always wanted to see more of, sooo here we go.

Walk in on? Or was there all along? :D

Magic's Promise:

"It hadn’t been this bad the first few years; in the first two, in fact, there had been moments when he thought he’d felt that treasured and familiar presence waiting, watching. But as the years passed - and it became clear that he was and would always be alone, Sovvan-night had become an occasion for profound depression unless he was very careful not to give in to it."

(If you're like, 'I totally didn't see that coming,' it's because I didn't foreshadow it in the slightest. Because I just came up with it. It's not my fault, I was very affected by Monk OP's passionate defense of Tylendel. And I get distracted by porn.)

...I'm going to have to rewrite this so hard.

Omg this is such a great picture! Your coloring style is really nice, I love how all the colors interact with each other. And the details in his outfit are perfect! Great job :D

Omg nonny I expected this prompt to get kinky and you are definitely delivering. And he's apologizing to the blanket this is amazing.

Eagerly awaiting part 4! Though not, I think, as eagerly as Vanyel...

;____; this is a beautiful story and it made me cry. The tone really worked for me-- it's a nice mix of entertaining and emotional, and their voices are spot on. Thank you for writing this!

DA

Ooh, love that detail with Tylendel. I love positive feedback loops like that. This fic, the monkfic, and so many more are making me so happy this month. :)

And oh God, that fantasy. I'm torn between "oh hot" and "OH GOD D:" when I think of his future, and I mean that in an entirely good way.

Loving this!

(hahaha, that guilt over the quilt :D)

Savil was more than content to leave Vanyel's recovery for Tylendel to keep an eye on. "You've at least got some Empathy," she'd said with a sigh as they sat together with tea and cookies. "I hardly know how to deal with the boy, for all that I want his happiness. And I'll have enough to handle, between the rest of the family getting notified and this situation you left me with."

It was Savil, after all, who was forced to actually conduct the investigation that Tylendel had pretended she'd been involved in. The monastery was closed down with various outcomes for the inhabitants. Uninvolved people who wished to be moved elsewhere were; those who were involved in child-trading were tried. Underage novices were sent to Haven to be rehabilitated, and similar services were at least offered to the older ones. Messengers were sent to the families of those involved, both to track down missing persons and to alert relatives. Some had been unaware of the full extent of things beyond the monastic education, others may have deliberately 'lost' their children. That, too, needed to be assessed.

The unfortunate side effect of that was that Vanyel's relatives had needed to be alerted with all the rest. All in all a headache for Savil.

"Sorry, teacher-love," Tylendel said playfully. She gesticulated at him irritably with a cookie and he snatched it out of her hand and ate it. "You're just much more famous than I am, you know."

"It'll stay that way if you keep giving me credit for the absurd things you do," Savil said and sighed again.

He laughed it off, but his smile faded quickly. "About his family... do you think they're going to do anything?"

"I expect Withen'll have words for my interference, though I doubt he intended any harm to befall Vanyel," Savil said, resting her chin on her hand. "Believe me, I'm not likely to let that pass. The boy's of age; Withen's got no say here, and I don't intend to see Vanyel want for anything if Withen goes through the bother of casting him out."

"I adore you," Tylendel said, and dodged her hand as she swatted at him.

"What's with you lately?" she asked, and laughed. "You're so invested in him."

She was right, he knew. It was more than just wanting to save Vanyel. More, too, than his pretty face. He kept feeling like he was so close to seeing who Vanyel could be, and wanted that so much. Even though it wasn't any of his business.

"It's nothing," Tylendel said.

That conversation took place three weeks after Vanyel had come to Haven; on the fourth week, Withen showed up, storming up to Savil's suite. Even though it had been ages since Vanyel could have heard him, as soon as they heard the first angry shout, the banging on the door, Vanyel obviously recognized his voice and went white as a ghost. Almost without thinking about it, Tylendel rose, stepping between Vanyel and the door.

"Let me in! Savil, you've got my son in there!"

Savil rose from her chair, looking between Tylendel and Vanyel. A little embarrassed at his first impulse, Tylendel turned slightly and glanced behind him. Vanyel's eyes were huge in his face, a hollow fear on it.

"Shall I send him away, Vanyel?" Savil asked, her tone mild.

"Savil!" Another hammering of a fist on the door.

Vanyel opened his mouth, and no words came out. Tylendel tried to give him a comforting smile. "It's up to you, Vanyel," he said. "If you don't want to talk to him, that's fine. There'll be other times whenever you're ready. And if you do want to talk to him, we can make sure things don't get out of hand."

They both watched him as he hesitated, and then he bit his lower lip and drew himself up a little straighter. "No," Vanyel said finally. "I don't want to talk to him. I'm... I'm not ready to talk to him. I feel like I should but—if he talks to me now, I don't think I can stand up for myself—"

Savil nodded once, firm. "That's that, then. 'Lendel, you take Vanyel back to his room and talk to him a bit; I'm sure there'll be shouting. I'll deal with Withen."

Tylendel smiled at Vanyel again, and this time it came much more easily. He was overcome with a feeling not unlike pride, but it wasn't a personal pride. This wasn't his doing; it was Vanyel's. Vanyel had been the one to know his limits. Vanyel had been the one to speak up to say he wasn't prepared, rather than to try to do the vain thing and face his father down.

"Come on," he said, and Vanyel blinked at him rapidly, then flashed him a return smile before vanishing into his room.

It was so fast that Tylendel thought how easily he could have missed it. That bright moment, that beautiful lighting up on his face. Vanyel had read the happiness on Tylendel's face and reacted to it. And, like a flower getting watered for the first time, he blossomed.

Tylendel thought his heart might stop.

Following Vanyel into his room happened without him even thinking about it, and he shut the door behind himself. Vanyel had sat on the bed, and for a moment, an electric tension hung in the air between them.

And then Tylendel got hold of himself, forcing himself to ignore that feeling. It wasn't something he should even consider offering. He took a seat with Vanyel and searched for another topic of conversation.

Vanyel was the one who spoke first: "I think," he said. "I'm thinking I might... go over to Bardic sometime? I used... I used to be really good. I'm not anymore. My father's armsman broke my arm, and I don't have feeling in that hand properly. A-and I haven't played for years. I gave up on becoming a Bard a long time ago but..."

"That doesn't mean you have to give up music," Tylendel said. If Vanyel wanted to avoid the subject of his father, he was happy to oblige. "Are you sure, though? Going over there could be painful if it's something you really wanted."

"I'm scared," Vanyel said. He looked down at his hands, like he was trying to see something in them, then up at Tylendel again. "But... even if I can't have what I want... shouldn't I see if I can have something?"

"You're amazing," Tylendel heard himself say, and then fought the urge to clap a hand over his mouth, embarrassed.

Vanyel's eyes widened, then hardened. He thought he was being made fun of, that much was clear. "Why would you say that?" he muttered.

"I just mean..." Tylendel searched for something to make it better, but could only find the truth. "You've been through so much and you're trying anyway. On your own, you're trying."

"I'm not—Lancir said I should—"

"It's still your choice. Music. Not talking to your father. They're your decisions and... it makes me really happy," Tylendel finished, a bit lamely.

The sounds outside had quieted; Savil must have convinced Withen to at least take it away from the doorway. Tylendel rose, feeling too awkward to stay. "I mean it," he said, as he headed to the door. "Vanyel, you're working hard on recovering, and of course I'll notice that."

He slipped through, hoping he'd made himself sound at least a little more competent, and on the other side, put his hands over his face. What had possessed him to say that? Vanyel was working hard, but was still recovering. Even praise could be read in the wrong way if said carelessly. There was still a lot of reason for Vanyel to doubt people's intentions toward him.

The next day had another knock on the door, and Tylendel feared that Withen had come back, but the arrival this time was someone called Lissa Ashkevron. Vanyel didn't even wait to be asked. As soon as he heard the name, he dashed to the door, flinging it open.

The girl on the other side was dressed in guardsman blues, and looked like how Savil must have looked at Tylendel's age. Her face had rough, severe lines, that sharp hooked nose, but she was laughing, smiling. She scooped Vanyel into a hug and the two clung together.

"Finally," she said, muffled into Vanyel's shoulder. "I've been looking for you for so long, Van, but Father wouldn't say anything about where he'd sent you to be educated. I'm sorry—"

He was laughing too, tears in his eyes. "Not your fault, Liss. I'm just so glad to see you again...!"

The sight of them clinging together, the sound of Vanyel's wet laughter, made something clench in Tylendel's chest. Vanyel was the most open that Tylendel had seen him, happy and relieved. Perhaps he'd go off with Lissa, Tylendel thought. If not now, when he was healed. Perhaps that would be for the best. Everyone needed family.

Regardless, this is intruding on something private, he reminded himself, and retreated to his room before he could examine his feelings too closely.

:Someone's getting attached,: Gala noted slyly.

:Quiet, you. I just want to see him doing well for himself.:

:Uh-huh.:

Just read parts 5 and 6 together, and I'm still in love! TBH, I don't usually like this kind of AU, but you have me completely hooked.

Go Savil!

AWwww :D

I felt myself getting so proud of Vanyel right along with Tylendel. And I like everyone's attention to Vanyel's boundaries.

...does anyone want to take bets on whether Gala already knows this is a lifebond? haha.

Scream that's exactly what it is, too. I mean, not just The Gay, the Anything That Might Make You Unwanted, but that doesn't help much at all.

Ice is much safer than gratitude. Ice can't betray you...!

Thank you so much. I'm really having fun writing a Tylendel fic, I normally just write Stefen!

A!A: That fight was nowhere near as dramatic and cool as 'Lendel hoped, I imagine. And poor Van. Poor Van entirely. This is not the authority kink he wanted.

A!A:

It's a real danger for sure. We know how malleable young Van is!

Oh nonny, I'm not the OP but I've been watching this prompt since it went up. I like everything you're doing with the very complicated relationships between the three of them, and Staven definitely has a very excitingly predatory air about him. I don't trust him at all (and I love it that way hahaaa).

Really, really looking forward to the next part!

A!A
I really really wanted this to be filled, and then finally somehow . . . ended up doing it myself. I felt like my biggest challenge would be developing Staven as a character, since we only really have a few lines of dialogue about him, but the more I figured out what kind of person Tylendel is, the more I could start to frame Staven around him (what must Staven be to make Tylendel what he is?) and, well, I really ended up getting carried away with the momentum.

I'm so glad you're enjoying it ♥ ♥ ♥ There will be more tomorrow!

A!A:

Savil is the real hero of TLHM let's be real about that. And yep, no peacock for Vanyel. He's coming from the opposite extreme in some ways. How does he even adjust to physical comforts let alone luxuries??

Thank you, I'm so glad you enjoyed! I've got the whole draft complete, it's just about how fast I can get edits done and each part together. I think if I can keep going at the rate we should be at the end by Wednesday!

A!A:

His leg, if you take my meaning.

Haha so glad you're enjoying it!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 14 of 22

21 Days of Valdemar!

Re: Fill- Vanyel/Blanket 2/? - A Restful Night

Re: Fill- Vanyel/Blanket 2/? - A Restful Night

Re: Fill- Vanyel/Blanket 3/4 - A Restful Night (Porn!...and fantasy dubcon?)

Re: FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 6/?

Re: Kero/Shallan/Relli - Fill - D/P with Toys (3/?)

Re: Fill- Vanyel/Blanket 3/4 - A Restful Night (Porn!...and fantasy dubcon?)

FILL: Equilibrium

FILL: Equilibrium - 1/?

Re: FILL: Equilibrium - 1/?

Re: FILL: Equilibrium - 1/?

Re: Fill- Vanyel/Blanket 3/4 - A Restful Night (Porn!...and fantasy dubcon?)

Re: Art: Pretty Soldier Sailor Vanyel

Re: Fill- Vanyel/Blanket 3/4 - A Restful Night (Porn!...and fantasy dubcon?)

Re: Good Company - 3/3

Re: Fill- Vanyel/Blanket 3/4 - A Restful Night (Porn!...and fantasy dubcon?)

FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 7/?

Re: FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 6/?

Re: FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 7/?

Re: FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 4/?

Re: FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 4/?

Re: FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 4/?

Re: FILL: Equilibrium - 1/?

Re: FILL: Equilibrium - 1/?

Re: FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 5/?

Re: FILL: Tylendel/Vanyel - Orders - 5/?