Jaheira - Blog Posts
"Your reasons were your own but, whether you meant for it or not, your fight is our fight. Both of us, to the very end." *Protesting Hamster Squeaking.*
"Eh? Jaheira? I... do not understand." "Good. That means you're back to your old ways."
Very normal bg3 activities...
"Did You Miss Me?"
It was one month since the battle of Baldur's Gate, one month since everything. Kethric Thorm lay dead at last, Orin and Gortash were defeated and the crown of karsus lay lost in the Chionthar.
Jaheira still wasn't used to it, being back in the city after so long away. Even before the battle, she'd been camping out in The Elfsong with that merry band of adventurers. She'd grown accustomed to their noise despite not being with them for long. That warm feeling of being part of an adventuring party once more. They were all gone now, back to whatever lives they'd lived before the nautiloid or carving out new ones: Gale back in Waterdeep, Shadowheart searching for a home with her parents and Lae’zel, Astarion doing some sort of vigilante work within the city (she'd met up with him a few times) and Minthara, Wyll and Karlach back in Avernus. Jaheira almost wasn't used to the silence. Maybe that's why she found herself in the Lower City sewers, checking in on an old friend far more often than she had in the past. Sure, Jaheira may have retired from the Harpers so the inner workings of the Guild were hardly any of her concern anymore. But, well, Minsc and Nine-Fingers were working together now (sort of?). She may as well be checking in every so often to make sure they hadn't killed each other.
Jaheira glances over at Astele. They're sat across from each other, Astele behind her desk wading through important looking paperwork and Jaheira on a little stool in front of it. They'd been sitting together like this in silence for what felt like an hour. Comfortable silence. Jaheira had bought a book with her to read (some novel she'd started before leaving for the shadow cursed lands, she hadn't gotten the chance to go back to it until now) just listening to the scratching of pen on paper and Astele's gentle humming.
“Did you miss me?”
Nine-Fingers barks with laughter, not even bothering to look up, “You seriously think I've had the time?”
Jaheira just hums in response. It made sense; between dealing with the Steel Watch, Bhaal's assassins, the Stonelord and a failed coup by the Zhents it was unlikely Nine-Fingers had even had time to think of herself. Let alone her enemy? Ally? Sort-of-friend-maybe-more? Jaheira still wasn't exactly sure what their relationship was at this point.
“Besides,” Astele finally looks up, meeting her gaze, “I knew you'd come back.”
“Ah, your offering to Kelemvor would imply otherwise. “
“Somehow I'm sure not even death could keep you away.”
BG3 Companions as Weird Old Newspaper Clippings (courtesy of yesterdaysprint)
Wyll:
Karlach:
Gale:
Halsin:
Lae'zel:
Shadowheart:
Astarion:
Jaheira:
Minsc:
Minthara:
My Girlfriend and Her 27 Daggers (aka 19 Fingers)
I am not a fan of 'do gardening to relax' cause of reasons, but I thought rendering every single element would be a nice meditative experience.
The rest of the daggers are there somewhere.
37 hours, Procreate, lots of questioning my sanity over background details
If you see a lineart mistake, no you don’t.
My thanks go to @ octavia_tav on X for Jahehe reference and the @ misshighharper (Jake?) for the inspiring meme about knives and also @ graciescribbles for the gentle push
Help I spent 3 hours on this 😭💀
AH-mazing!
She is quiet. Sharp tongue stilled. The noises she makes are soft and contented, never mind how Jaheira’s teeth scrape, how the bruises bloom. When Jaheira’s mouth moves lower, her breath hitches, her fingers tangling in Jaheira’s braids, and still she does not speak. “What?” Jaheira raises her head. “None of the Guildmaster’s trademark quick wit?” “A good commander knows when to shut the fuck up and do what needs doing,” Astele breathes, “and I am a good. Fucking. Commander.”
have had this sequel planned since i wrote the first fic :") very happy to finally finish it!
“Don’t get mad if I fall asleep on you” for Jaheira/NF
Jaheira’s curled up on Astele’s bed—not wildshaped, not surreptitious, just Jaheira. She smiles like this isn’t something novel and also fucking insane. This isn’t what they do. She shows up late at night sometimes, sure, but not late at night when she’s got adventurers to herd, tucked up at the Elfsong doing whatever other insane charity work needs their attention. She doesn’t have time for things like this.
She’s not wearing her fuck-me lingerie, and it is psychologically damaging for Astele to realize that they’ve been doing this for enough time that she can tell how Jaheira’s feeling based on what she’s worn to bed. Fuck-me lingerie—pretty self-explanatory. Green adventuring leathers—business only, and she’s usually paired them with a grim expression that’s nothing like the drowsy smile Astele sees now.
She’s wearing a smile. A smile, and a soft, summer-green blouse with gauzy sleeves, clearly designed for relaxation, possibly at least fifty years out of style. On anyone else, it would look absurd. Jaheira can’t look absurd to Astele.
“Don’t get mad if I fall asleep on you,” Astele says, shoulders up. “Been a hell of a day even with the Stone Lord gone. And there’s worse coming.”
“I know,” says Jaheira. She stretches out her legs on the bed and pats the spot next to her.
Astele sits down.
Jaheira touches her face. “You do look tired,” she observes, but not in the usual tone of voice. A different one.
“Is this because we’re all going to fucking die?”
“Perhaps.” Jaheira’s fingers brush her cheek. No one else in the world is allowed to touch Astele like that, she decides, and then realizes there’s an else in that sentence. “Perhaps I just missed you.”
The gang
This game has infected my brain