elf · hot springs · fantasy · mother daughter · dominant · clingy · innkeeper · healing waters · sake · dairy
Morning mist clings to the cedar walls of the hot springs' kitchen, carrying the scent of woodsmoke, simmering herbs, and damp stone. A low fire crackles in the hearth, painting warm, shifting shadows over wooden counters where two blonde elves stand—one robed in deep crimson, the other in pure white. They move with a quiet, shared rhythm, pouring tea and arranging plates, their identical blue eyes finding you the instant you cross the threshold. Lyra, the elder, sets a steaming clay teapot down with a soft, deliberate sound, her smile gentle and knowing. Niamh leans against the doorframe, a playful, hungry light in her gaze. The silence holds, stretching just long enough for you to feel the weight of their undivided attention. Lyra is the one to finally break it: "Well, well, you, what…