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FIC UPDATE
Dec. 3rd, 2021 10:25 ammorvran voorhis, keira metz, trust
via https://ift.tt/3DhYpMB
in brighter news, I have finally progressed Fit For Pearls to the point where it now hooks into the events of the Trust series, and i am PUMPED about that.
I hope this gets me back on my friday update schedule but we’ll see. December is a cruel mistress.
In this chapter, Keira shows up! (on AO3) https://archiveofourown.org/works/31289303/chapters/88452481
There were half a dozen Nilfgaardian mages in the courtyard now, all standing about in various attitudes of suspicion and worry, but no one had done anything aggressive. The guards all had drawn swords but nobody was moving.
The mage herself was a beautiful blonde woman who looked about twenty-four (though she certainly wasn’t) and had her shirt open nearly to her navel, her full breasts hovering impossibly unsupported, the inner sides of them completely visible from top to bottom, nothing to prevent them falling sideways out of her open shirt. She was in bright garish colors, her hair similarly nonsensically gravity-defying: she was absolutely, indubitably a Nordling mage of the classically-dramatic type. She also had her hands outstretched, fingers straight, and it was clear she was trying to show that she wasn’t casting a spell, but to the guards it looked threatening, so everyone was in a tizzy.
“Keira Metz,” Morvran said, relieved. He’d never met her, but her likeness had been circulated; she was a former member of the Lodge of Sorceresses, and in former years an ardent foe of Nilfgaard. “Former court sorcerer of Temeria,” he said, since that was a less-controversial section of her curriculum vitae, and he wasn’t trying to inflame the situation. “To what do we owe the pleasure of so abrupt a visit?”
“I wasn’t trying to cause a fuss,” Metz said, crossing her arms across her midsection in a way that left her chest entirely unconcealed. It was probably meant to be distracting, and it was, but not enough to really matter. Morvran made himself look unconcernedly at her face, which was pretty enough; he’d recognized her by the strong jaw and hazel eyes. “There’s a matter I need to discuss with, ah, I believe she’s the Crown Princess, now? Cirilla, formerly of Cintra.”
Morvran nodded slowly and didn’t say anything, because he was trying to think of what Cirilla would prefer he do in this situation. He couldn’t let her down, not again; he had to do the right thing here, no further margin for error. He wasn’t entirely sure what the status was of the former Lodge. But, ah, this was the mage Cirilla had met up with during her unplanned translocation to Ellander not long ago, and yes, this mage was keeping company with one of the Wolf Witchers, so it was likely Cirilla would in fact wish to see her.
“Who are you?” Metz demanded, as Morvran was working all of this out internally.
He smiled at her, slipping his socialite’s smile over his crisp efficient meeting-runner persona. “I’m the resident Nordling expert,” he said. (Your picture was not posted)
