Writing Portfolio: Romance/Flirtation

Selection #1: Sathyr’s advice if you kill your own spouse.

• P: I need some advice.
  • Sathyr: From me? Are you sure about that? Well. I’m honored that you trust me enough to ask. What is it?
    • P (Killed Spouse): I killed my spouse.
      • Sathyr: So… you’re single?
        • P: SATHYR!!!
          • Sathyr: What?
        • P: No. I’m grieving my dead love, you absolute fetcher.
          • Sathyr: Oh. Right. Of course. I’m sorry… Is there… Anything I can do to comfort you?
        • P: I need a drink.
          • Sathyr: I’m sure I’ve got something in my pack…
        • P: Hold me.
          • Sathyr: As long as you need, sweetheart.
            • P: You’re the fetching best friend I could ask for, you know that?
              • Sathyr: I try my best, darling.
            • P: I love you. (Starts romance)
              • Sathyr: I love you, too.
        • P: Get out of my sight.
          • Sathyr: I… As you wish. You know where to find me.
        • P: That’s not a good idea. I don’t want to disrespect the dead so quickly…
          • Sathyr: Then I’ll be happy to wait.
            • P: I should go.
              • Sathyr: Get some rest, love. You know where to find me if you need anything else.
            • P: Looking forward to it. (Start romance)
              • Sathyr: As am I, love. But you’ve been through enough recently. I’ll follow your lead.
            • P: On second thought, I don’t care. Why wait? We could die tomorrow. (Start romance)
              • Sathyr: Good point, love. I’m yours.
        • P: Very single. (Start Romance)
          • Sathyr: In that case… Let’s find a tavern. My treat.
        • P: You wouldn’t happen to have any issue with my romantic history… would you? (Start romance)
          • Sathyr: Please, I’ve killed my own lovers, too. Honestly, makes us even more perfect for each other.

Selection #2: Flirtatious idle dialogue from Sathyr while wandering Skyrim.

Sathyr, if Player is wearing rags: While I do appreciate how that… outfit—if you can call it such—shows off your arms… Why wear such garbage? I can get you something better, you know.

Selection #3: From book 1 of my fantasy series, narrated by Lenora, confronting Alister for being rude to her best friend, Gawain. Yay enemies to lovers arc.
I took a deep breath and knocked aggressively on his door. Alister replied in the most ridiculous, singsong voice I had ever heard. “Who is it? A friend? A lover? Breakfast?”
“Just open the damn door.”
“AHHH!” His voice returned to normal. “Please tell me you’re not here to kidnap me, lady. I’m too tired for this today.”
I tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. I opened the door. “I am probably not here to kidnap you. Unless you’re still going to be a complete asshole to my best friend.”
“Oh, fantastic. The Satin has returned to the double-L Hell.”
“Good grief, Alister, can you even read?”
Alister grinned. “Given that I distinguished Hel from double-L Hell, one would think this is obvious. Did you hit your head when you fell from your God’s favor?”
To my distress, I felt my cheeks flush. “Yeah, well, He’s not my God either and your insults sound like pickup lines, you absolute buffoon.”
Alister also blushed and looked equally annoyed about it. “Whatever. Why are you even here?” I slammed the door shut with my foot and glared at Alister. He sat up in his bed and looked at me in confusion for a long moment, then looked away, embarrassed. “Oh. Um. I’m not really…”
I stormed over to him and pulled him off his bed by his shirt. “I need to know the truth.” I pinned him to a wall. He would vow not to hurt Gawain, or I would make him.
“I’M NOT COURTING WOMEN RIGHT NOW, I’M JUST TRYING TO LIVE MY LIFE AND NOT GET KIDNAPPED EVERY FIVE MINUTES, OKAY?” Alister blurted.
I loosened my grip and backed away. “Wait, what?”
“I know I am very handsome and exude an aura of flirtatiousness or whatever but—“
“WHAT?” Alister and I looked at each other in horror and confusion for a long moment and then almost both burst out laughing, but in refusing to laugh together, both looked away angrily.
“By the Allfather, you’re here on business… I am truly an oaf.”
“Yes, you oaf, I’m here on business.” I crossed my arms. “You’re not going to lay a finger on Gawain to harm him, or I will kill you. Got it?”
Alister narrowed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. “You have truly awful judgment.”
“Do not!”
“Well. First of all, I’m not stupid enough to harm another Knight of the Round Table on purpose. And second of all, Gawain isn’t a good guy. He’s a killer.”
“Oh, and neither of us are?” I rolled my eyes and muttered under my breath, “Hypocrite.”

Selection #4: From book 1 or 2 of my fantasy series, narrated by Tristan as he and Lamorak find each other again after breaking the love potion curse on Tristan & Isolde.
“Worst of all, I’m going to have to apologize to Gawain! He was telling the truth about not cursing me with blood magic the whole time! I cursed myself!”
I smiled and laughed a little in surprise. “Wow, my dear. Apologizing to Gawain with no prompting from Lenora, Agravaine, or myself? That is really big of you.”
Lamorak’s scowl faded to a very wide mischievous grin, fangs fully bared. “Know what else is really big of me?”
I grinned back with equal mischief. “Your smile?” We both burst into laughter.
He tackled me into the sand playfully, as we both continued laughing. “No, silly!” He kissed my cheek a few times between little fits of laughter.
“Hm…” I gently poked him in the chest. “Your heart?”
Lamorak snorted. “No! Tristan!” He dramatically sat up, straddling me, with both hands on his face. “Tristaaaaan! You are going to kill me with my own laughter!”
I ran my hand up the outside of his leg until my hand hit the hilt of his sword. “Oh. I get it.” I pulled the blade slightly out of its sheath. “Your sword?”
He looked down at me with equal parts hidden amusement and great distress at his choice of beloved. “Close enough.” He sighed deeply, falling out of his fits of laughter. “You are a ridiculous man, Tristan.”
“And you love me.”
There was a brief moment of silence, and the horrible side of my mind worried that perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps that was too far. Lamorak’s face softened, losing the mischief and snark. “I really do,” He said in almost a whisper, “I love you, Tristan, more than the words of someone as comparatively un-poetic as I am can possibly express.”
I laced my fingers with his and pulled his hand towards me. I kissed his hand before I spoke. “Even I am at a loss for words for you. All I know is that when we are apart, my heart does not beat either. And that when you are at my side, I could mistake Hell itself for something greater than Heaven. And that I have read thousands of stories of love, but all of them feel hollow for knowing you. And that I do not exaggerate in saying that I would gladly leave the Lotus Eaters for a chance to even just speak with you for a moment. And that—”
“That’s hardly a loss for words, you beautiful, poetic asshole.”

Selection #5: From book 1 of my fantasy series, narrated by a young King Arthur, for his meet-cute with Dinadan.
As I entered the throne room, I opted to slide down the bannister to save time, not bothering to check if anyone was already below, waiting for me and the knights to enter.
At the bottom, I crashed into something solid that I had not expected to be there. I looked ahead and saw plate armor with colorful fabric draped over it. Who had put that there? The armor moved and I shrieked in a most undignified and un-kingly manner. The armor—well—the man wearing the armor, I suppose, steadied me with both his hands on my arms, just below my shoulders.
“Oh! My apologies! I had not expected anyone to make such a grand entrance to the hall.” His voice was kind. Amused, rather than upset and disdainful, as I’d come to expect when my clumsiness got the better of me. I looked up at a man a good deal taller than me, but seemingly not much older. His pointed ears and the almost scale-like shimmer across his dark cheeks immediately marked him as a siren of some sort, but by his clothes, not one from Avalon. He gave me a bright smile. “Hope I didn’t bruise you or anything. Wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on the king when he arrives!”
I gave him a completely baffled look. Had I forgotten my crown or something? I reached up to check and felt it there. The strange siren reached out and gently touched my head and crown. I felt myself blush a little. His silvery eyes widened and his ears flattened a bit, like an upset cat. “Did you hit your head? Are you all right?”
“Um. No. That’s not… Are you Tristan?”
At that, the siren laughed. I smiled a little and shook my head. His was the sort of contagious laugh you couldn’t help but join in on. “You flatter me, sir. I am his friend and traveling companion, Prince Dinadan.” He gave me a grand and dramatic bow. He looked up at me and grinned. “And you are?”
I gave the fool prince an equally dramatic bow. “I am King Arthur Pendragon.”
Dinadan gasped and jumped back a little. “What! But you—“
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m a child, I know,” I growled.
Dinadan tilted his head. “What? No. That’s not what I meant—You are? You’ve done some pretty impressive things, especially if you’re a kid—”
“No. I’m not. I’m sorry. I just… I’m used to people treating me like one.”
Dinadan laughed awkwardly and looked at the ground for a moment before giving me a mischievous grin. “Is it your skill in sliding down bannisters or your lack of shoes that makes them think you a child?”
“My!” I looked down at my feet and saw that I had indeed forgotten something. At least it had not been my pants. “Oh, great…”
He put his arm around my shoulders like an old friend. “No need to be embarrassed! I think it’s quite a bold statement. And far more comfortable. Come on! You should meet Tristan and Safi. They’ll love you too.”

Selection #6: From book 1, narrated by a young King Arthur, getting to know Dinadan.
I hoped I wouldn’t mess up the whole making friends thing outside of battle like I usually did. I wanted to be friends with Dinadan. He seemed perfectly calm in the brief silence between us, looking out over the battlements. I was not calm. The silence was suffocating. I didn’t know what to talk about, and wasn’t sure if he liked combat magic, or if he’d criticize my obsession with it like the rest of Camelot, so I went with a less controversial topic. Food. Food was nice. “Did you have ever eaten a favorite?” I froze. My own tongue had once again betrayed me.
Dinadan looked at me blankly for a moment, and then laughed. It was not cruel like Kay’s was though, and I found myself cracking a small smile. “I did have ever eaten a favorite buttery fried plantain or did eat a tea drink,” He replied with complete serious confidence. At this, we both laughed for a moment.
“What is a plantain?” I asked, still laughing a little.
Dinadan gasped and grabbed my both of my shoulders dramatically. “What! What sort of sad heathen are you?! How do you not know that?! I’m going to have to take you to my hometown and have our cooks prepare some for you. Immediately.”
I blushed and laughed a little. “Already taking me home, are you, my dear knight?”