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Summary
Helaena felt almost… drunk? She frowned, reaching for the canteen of water at her hip after she finished up with Nessa, securing her promise of assistance once they inevitably attacked the orthon. She chugged down most of it, somewhat alleviating her dry mouth in the process, but she still felt off.
“Is something wrong, love?” Gale’s hand was touching her shoulder, through the layers of her thick robe and the shirt beneath, but it coursed through her like lightning, like he was touching her bare skin, and a much more sensitive spot at that.
She looked up at him, wide-eyed, words caught in her throat. “Gale, I…”
“Laena?”
His voice, saying not just her name, but the nickname he’d refused to use until just days prior, the nickname he’d groan into her ear as he came inside of her, as much an endearment as every love or darling or sweetheart… Her eyelids fluttered shut as she swayed backwards, towards the hand still resting on her shoulder.
“Laena!”
Or
Helaena accidentally gets a bit too close to the potion-doused spider meat in the Gauntlet of Shar, and is very much affected
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