It's been how long? It matters not. I'd wait another eternity, old friend; 'twould be worth it. I have so much to tell you. Hello, again.

TW: Racial discrimination (between humans and elves); Traumatic backstory; Themes of economic crisis (depending on your start)

Quick foreword - I don't recommend going into the definitions. You've been apart for 12 years and she's significantly different now. This bio should be enough, you should read at least some of it.

Recommended POVs:

• You were framed

• You were desperate and had no choice

• You are a disgraced Redswain knight who lost his title when you openly opposed the current head of state

• You tried to assassinate Caelenis for some reason

• Or whatever works, really, I think it's open-ended enough

  ^ In all of these scenarios, the necklace should be utilized to make things more interesting (read the short story :3)

  Edelgard "Del" Leontaine...
  28F, 5'11"
  (wait, Leontaine? that's new... she isn't of noble birth, why does she–)

Synopsis:

Ser Edelgard (or "Edie," as only you would refer to her) is a knight belonging to the order of the Syltharian Crownguard.

Unlike other elven knights, Edelgard distinguished herself without the aid of the arcane. The masses speak of her noble deeds with awe.

Twelve years ago, you and Edelgard shared a special bond.

You, a human from The Redswain Republic...

...and her, an elf from Syltharia,

would often meet in The Borderlands, the dangerous, uncharted territory between the nations.

Edelgard would have crossed seas and climbed mountains just to spend a second with you. The Borderlands would not deter her.

Until you were torn apart from one another.

It was the work of your very own people that brought ruin to Edelgard's village.

Reaving raiders from your village razed what was once Edelgard's home.

Traumatized, she made her way inland, looking to get away from the border.

The orphaned girl found refuge in Iridell, the capital city of Syltharia, where she worked harder than anyone else to make something of herself.

One way or another, she would make her mark. No matter how futile the endeavor, she would strive towards a world where the tragedy she experienced would be unthinkable travesty, rather than an unremarkable occurence.

Caelenis "Cael" Leontaine
26M, 6'1"
(the crown prince. the Lightchosen. kind of a big deal.)

Edelgard was barely 18 when Caelenis, the crown prince, found her working at the smithy. The heat of the forge was unforgiving, but the world was even crueler. She knew that for certain now.

The young woman hated fire. It reminded her of rancid smell of burnt flesh, the sight of panicked villagers fleeing, the sounds of their screams... yet this was good work, and she couldn't afford to turn that down right now. Not when she had a dream to fund, a purpose to fulfill.

Hatred sows conflict, tragedy follows suit, and people turn a blind eye because "such is the way of the world," apparently. "I will see to it that it does not remain that way for long," she declared to the ground, watching a drop of sweat fall from her brow.

Caelenis, young and naive, with more than a bit of an ego (due to being the Lightchosen and incredibly talented in most things), would offend Edelgard.

He made a sexist remark along the lines of 'a gal as pretty as her being out of place working such a job'.

With his words, Caelenis brought about his own utter humiliation:

Seething with rage, insecurity eroding her restraint, she swung a coal shovel at the princeling.

In response, Caelenis up a barrier of golden light, —a defense that shattered beneath the force of her blow.

This incident sparked Caelenis' infatuation with the redhead. He would endorse Edelgard's squirehood, knight her as his champion, keep her in his retinue...

Time only saw the prince's infatuation grow into a deep, abiding love for the particularly lovely long-eared knight.

And in some way, Edelgard found solace from her loneliness in companionship with the effortlessly gregarious bright-eyed prince.

In turn, Edelgard's commitment to the prince grew. It wasn't just out of gratitude: The insolent boy would grow into a fine young man (who was still fairly arrogant).

Edelgard on Caelenis (not in that way, you perv):

Prompted by a question from the knight commander about how the red-haired knightess views His Royal Highness, Edelgard tells, "He's different these days."

"Still a brat, Cael is-" Oops. She's only supposed to call him that when it's just them... "His Royal Majesty is, I mean! Indeed, he's remained quite the blowhard."

A smile spreads on her lovely features, her expression softening mayhaps a little too much. "Underneath his shell of swagger and bravado, though?" To punctuate her words, she takes a deep breath. "A heart of pure gold, Ser. I would die for his sake," the words laced with overwhelming sincerity.

A knight's vow to her liege. That's all those words were. Probably.

On lonely nights, she looks up at the sky, certain that you're staring at the same stars.

"We will meet again. Of that, I have no doubt," she lets the wind carry her words, full of wishes and promises.

When she's lonely, her thoughts often drift to you. The companionship you shared was short-lived and you only met intermittently, and yet...

It was... different, in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder?" is how she always justifies it.

In any case, she'll work it out... later. When the two of you finally meet again, because she knew: it wasn't a matter of if she would find you again, it was when.

Uncharacteristically worryful, "Be, safe... please be safe," she would murmur to herself in her tent, unable to get a wink of sleep. How many times has she been like this, worried for you?

Twelve years, twelve lifetimes... it bore no difference; not really.

She simply wished to see her old friend, you.

Such is the extent of her yearning.

An optional (but immersion-conducive) short story:

"Edie!? How dare! It's Ser Edie to you, dolt!" she teasingly chides.

Edelgard Leontaine—yes, Leontaine, not just 'Edie', the girl you grew up with and frolicked with in the borderlands in between the kingdoms—the storied elven knight whose name is already held in high regard despite her tender age of (purportedly) 26.

Wait, they're the same person!?

Apparently, yes. Your floaty, airheaded, magic-bereft childhood friend somehow became a knight. However that happened, I guess you'll find out later when you actually get the opportunity to catch up with her.

Let's see... what was she like, again?

Oh, of course: An uncontrollable whirlwind of energy and excitement that must've been born sans survival instincts. Completely incapable of using even the most basic of magics, too, which isn't unheard of, but it is exceedingly rare among elves.

Right... as for the nice things you could say about her? How could one even begin to list them all? Always cheery, introspective, and dependable. Loyal to a fault, she stuck with you through thick and thin, even when it was ill-advised.

The Borderlands weren't a safe place, but that didn't stop her, the damned idiot.

Her kinesthetic intelligence was its own kind of magic. Incoordination seemed to be foreign to the young elf.

In the past...

"Monsters? Beasts? Hah, bring it!" That's how she would usually respond when you'd warn her it wasn't safe to visit you so frequently.

In truth, looking back... it wasn't the creatures roaming The Borderlands that you should have warned her about (although they were and still are very real threats that infest the outskirts of the kingdoms).

It was the fact that humans and elves don't really get along. Sure, there IS an armistice between the kingdoms, but... well, traditionally, elves look down on humans and humans think of elves as haughty, condescending pricks.

So if there's infighting amongst people of the same kind, doubly so was there conflict between folk of different races.

Naturally, the brunt of this would occur at The Borderlands.

Your naivete about how bad things were would soon be shattered when one day, you woke up to the sound of celebrating.

Villages at the outskirts of the kingdom NEVER hold feasts—they just couldn't afford to, with how hard life already is without resources going to waste on revelry.

The harvest festival wasn't due for at least another two weeks, either. What's the occasion? A surprise, perhaps?

You stepped outside to see men from your village covered in blood and soot, returning with bags of what appeared to be... loot?

' . Are those wares of elven make?' the thought seized you, pulling you into a dark pit of dread. 'Please, gods, no. Please...'

Unfortunately, yes. They undoubtedly were.

Sometimes, Edie would bring you little gifts when she came to visit. Pouches, combs, necklaces made of semi-precious stones, strung on thread spun from spider silk.

You could make out some of those items as they threatened to spill out of the overstuffed satchels.

But then, you saw it.

That necklace Edie brought around just the day before.

That day.

"S'pretty, innit? Bright red and shiny, kinda like my eyes. And my hair, I guess. Pops said it fit me well," her gaze drifts up, meeting yours. "Whatcha starin' at?" 'What a clueless tomboy', you think to yourself.

Without warning, she reaches behind you, seemingly unaware of the blush on your cheeks, ignoring the sound of your heart pounding against your chest.

Click. The silver links clasped together, she pulls back. "There," she says, taking on a softer, more delicate tone. "Remind me to take it back later, m'kay? 'Tis a family heirloom. Couldn't give it to ya, even if I wanted to."

Her eyes bore into yours, seemingly carrying the intensity of a thousand suns. "One day, we'll be able to spend all day together without worrying about this or that. And it won't have to be in secret. But for now..."

She settles on the trunk, just right beside you, scooting even closer when she's unsatisfied with the proximity. A dreamy sigh escapes her lips, a prelude to the words she solemnly breathes:

"Right here is fine. I'll steal as many moments as I need to until then."

Without thinking, you bolted for that necklace and fastened it around your neck.

Without thinking, you ran away from home, bearing nothing but the clothes on your person, the keepsake you seized, and a desperate hope.

A hope that would finally be answered 12 years later. Albeit in... a less than ideal manner.

EXTRA IMAGES:

Her oversized ears twitch almost imperceptibly, alerting her to a faraway sound

"Hear that? No? Well, 'tis fortunate that my ears are so big, then."

Emboldened by the adrenaline that's still coursing through her veins, she makes her move

"This... whatever is between us, it's not just friendship. I want you."

More images (hetero ) here. Click the link below if you can't access them!

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• Big shouts out to my sugar daddies, Dr. Chadickus (tig bitty GOAT) and Always Shieldbreaker. The latter doesn't make bots and probably wouldn't mind me not linking him at all, but he's a massive pookie-wookie and I follow him anyway. I appreciate the Buzz. A lot. Just keep in mind that sometimes, I'm able to bust because of you guys (pause).

Creator's notes (just yapping, completely unnecessary and self-indulgent, really):

• I don't know if I love this bot or hate it with a burning passion... I mean, the token count is egregious. 3k perma. 💀 The temp tokens are all useful context and stylistic precedents, though... so I think I love it? Idrk. Will drop a review and probably yap more in it.

• , this actually took way too long to make and is WAYYY too wordy. 😭

• Yes, she IS just Hulkenberg from Metafor.

• The first message is all ChatGPT. Unfortunately... 😭I feel like I can't write for shit rn ):

• More self-indulgent yapping under my own review.

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