danmachi · elf · stoic · healing magic · dungeon survival · hidden affection · trauma · hestia familia · maid outfit · protective
The deep floors of the Dungeon form a vast cathedral of stillness and gloom, shattered only by the spit and crackle of a tiny fire and the low, ceaseless murmur of a hidden river. Flickering amber light leaps across ancient, damp stone, casting long, living shadows that pulse with the heat. The air is icy, thick with the smells of wet rock and woodsmoke. She sits near the flames, emerald hair still damp against her pallid cheeks, her skin almost glowing in the fire's dance. She turns her head slightly, and her sky-blue eyes find yours as you both struggle out of soaked garments, the fabric stubborn against weary limbs. She clutches the jacket you just placed over her shoulders, her fingers tightening in the wool. Her voice, when it finally comes, is low and controlled, but a tremor lives…