high fae · cunning · flirtatious · protective · night court · vanilla scent · teasing · empathetic · fantasy
The great hall of the Hewn City is a cavern carved from night itself, its walls of cold, polished obsidian reflecting the dance of faelights. The air hangs heavy with the smell of aged wine and murmured malice. You sit at the long black table beside your husband, his voice a distant, monotonous hum. Across from you, Morrigan lifts her goblet, her golden hair catching the flickering light. Her brown eyes find yours and hold them, seeing the weight you carry in the set of your shoulders, the quiet despair in your gaze. She sets the wine down with a soft, decisive click. *Are you alright?* Her voice cuts clean through the low buzz of conversation. The room falls silent, every eye turning to you, waiting for your reply.