#Halsin would be the first to ask for a fur one and Astarion would be like ohhhhh hell yeah

[miraculan-draws]

I see your "elves need earmuffs in winter" and RAISE YOU those knitted or fuzzy headbands that go over ears BECAUSE Astarion would look very cute in them and it would keep his growing hair out of his eyes. He made it himself. I was going to say "bring him yarn/fabric of your desired color and he will make you one" but I realized he would be choosing the colors himself with childlike glee and would not entertain any arguments on the matter. Interrupting conversations that do not involve him that way he can measure someone's head. Once he learns he can make them out of fur it's all over. Don't have big sensitive elf ears? Irrelevant, you will be cozy as well, sha'tel'quessir, and it will be both fashionable and practical.

[maharlika]

spouse

a little arranged marriage halstarion ficlet for some folks over on the halstarion discord! tw for implied abuse, blood mention and miscarriage in this one. there's also mpreg.

—

Astarion tumbled off his husband with a satisfied sigh, sinking into the plush nest of feathers and fur, legs askew and thighs still trembling from exertion.

He watched, eyes half-lidded, as Halsin rose from the bed, then returned with a soft cloth and a wooden cup full of cold water, the latter of which he placed on the floor next to their bed. 

“Do you think it will take?” Astarion asked, as Halsin gently cleaned him. Always so gentle, Astarion��s bear of a husband. Mate, Halsin called him, though Astarion did not quite believe it. Would not quite believe it until the child was seeded in his womb, rooted deep enough to cast aside any doubts of his place by Halsin’s side. 

“It may or it may not,” Halsin said, seemingly indifferent to the possibility of siring a child. It had been baffling to Astarion the first time they’d consummated their union—it was baffling to him still, months into this endeavor. 

Astarion swallowed down his worries with a nod, and told himself this was enough for now: to be wed to a man who had not once struck him, who had never raised his voice at him, and who did not seem to consider him a mere broodmare, as his father had raised him to be. 

Still, fear lingered in his chest. If he could not bear Halsin a child, then he would be cast aside. Cazador would punish him for that, he was certain. But beyond that—losing Halsin would be a new sort of pain, one he had not anticipated, and one for which he had no one to blame but himself.

After all, it was his fault he had fallen in love.

—

Three months later, Astarion woke up to blood. 

As his head spun with terror, Astarion could only think of one thing: not Cazador’s ire, not the breaching of the marriage contract, not even the horror of returning to the cold, bitter palace he had been raised in.

No—as Astarion limped to the healer’s, blood trickling down his thighs, he could only think: Halsin will hate me for losing his child.

—

Astarion sat quietly as the healer spoke to his husband. He wondered if he could still call Halsin that at all, given how much of a failure he had been as his spouse. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, as Halsin approached his bedside. His hands were twisted together in deep anxiety on his lap, and he looked down at them as he continued, “I—I have no excuse. I’m sorry.”

“Astarion,” Halsin murmured. He placed one large hand on top of both of Astarion’s. “Why are you apologizing, my heart?”

“Why are you still calling me that?” Astarion asked, his head jerking up in surprise. He met Halsin’s confused and sorrowful gaze, and tears spilled down his cheeks as he blinked. His mouth trembled, and a sob burst from his chest before he could stop it. “I heard what the healer said—that I might not—that I might never—”

“It matters not,” Halsin said swiftly. “You are my heart, child or no, Astarion.”

“You can’t mean that!” Astarion cried, eyes squeezing tight. “I am useless to you now!”

Halsin’s hand stiffened atop his, and despite the silence, Astarion could feel his shock. Astarion had never raised his voice at him before, had never been anything but a charming, pliant vessel. 

He shuddered in fear and misery. Apologies would not save him now, he knew.

“Astarion, please look at me,” Halsin said. When Astarion did not obey, Halsin continued, “I am not so cruel to cast you aside for something so—so utterly beyond your control. When we were wed, I promised to care for you. I mean to keep my promise. There is nothing you could do that would make me stop.”

“I—but I—what am I for? If not to bear your young, to serve your House with my body—I don’t understand.”

“Is that what you think you're for? When I find the person who has put these awful thoughts into your head, I will tear them apart myself,” Halsin said, in a menacing tone that Astarion had never heard before. 

He shivered, not entirely displeased to hear it.

“Oh,” he whispered. “You truly…you truly mean to keep me?”

Halsin lifted Astarion’s limp hands to his lips and kissed his fingers, one by one. 

“Yes,” he said. "For as long as you would like to be kept."

Astarion nodded, his mind still reeling. This changed everything—and somehow, it changed nothing at all. Halsin still cared for him. Halsin still would not harm him. Halsin still did not care whether Astarion bore him a child or not. 

“Rest,” Halsin murmured, as Astarion listed sideways and crumpled against him, overwhelmed with relief. “I will be here when you wake. I will always be here, my heart.”

[oops-all-concrete]

What would you think of how would each BG3 companions to Tav being secretly a god that has been tagging along with them all this time? Just curious

(SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO THIS, MY BRAIN HELD MY MOTIVATION RANSOM MIDWAY THROUGH ME WRITING THIS)

Ooohhhhh this sounds funnyyyy

Context: I'm imagining Tav is a god and has God status, a place in the pantheon and everything, but-! So continuity makes sense and the whole journey is still necessary, I'd assume them a curious God of some miscellaneous small thing so their powers wouldnt be THAT useful anyhow (God of clouds, God of fur, God of bread) but yeah!

BG3 companions react to Tav secretly being a...God???

(MILD SPOILERS FOR ACT 1/2)

Lae'zel -

She's suspicious at first, disbelieving of course. But as she watches Tav just summon (whatever they're the god of) from thin air, she frowns. "Chk. You may be of godly status, but if you're unwise enough to get kidnapped by a ghaik nautaloid, you are no mighty God." She finishes, nose upturned and almost- dissapointed??

Shadowheart -

Once shes been convinced, she frowns. "I don't think I've ever known of such a God...granted, Lady Shar only allowed for us to study her." She admits. She's quite hesitant, but she does ask. "Have you ever...met lady Shar/Seluné? Can you tell her I say hi? Is that appropriate?"

Wyll -

He's also hesitant to believe, but he's so curious once he believes you. "Wait, so, what's it like being a God? Does being a mortal feel weird? Are you immune to anything? What happens if you die? Does someone become the new God of what you're the God of? Are you even allowed to be here? What does the immortal plane smell like?" Just, a million and one questions and he wants ALL the stories.

Karlach -

"Woah! That's so cool, I wish I was a God...I'd be the God of potatoes. Is that already a thing?" Regardless if its true, she let's Tav have their fun. She also refers to every time she's saved by Tav as 'Divine Intervention' which isn't...wrong?

Gale -

"Ah, I got that impression, albeit with doubt." He says, sounding only a little smug. "Your disguise is well crafted, I'll give you that. Definitely something I aspire to learn from" he smiles fondly. Then there's a pause. "...I understand its not quite your field but you wouldn't be someone who could fix the whole...orb in me chest could you? Or would that also put you under Mystras ire?"

Astarion -

He seems immediately intrigued. "Really? I thought you were a little calm for all of this, but I never would have guessed- no offense. I'm sure you're very...powerful in your own way!" He says, somewhat forcing a smile. "So- does prayer work, or does the world have to be ending for everyone in order for you to pick up a summon?" He asks, curious, but seeming somewhat irritated too. He doesn't elaborate on why.

Halsin -

He seems doubtful at first but believes you quicker than you expected. "I hadn't imagined thr gods would send one of their own to come and save me from goblins or...help lift a shadow curse left by Shar of all people." He says, a faint smile on his face. "While I am in your debt, you should my life is already pledged to Silvannus. I hope what I'm already doing is enough"

Jaheira -

She looks Tav up and down, crosses her arms, and then- chuckles? "Sorry, I just- I feel like I finally have evidence I've been here too long. I haven't passed away to some dumb idea yet, so the Gods sent one of their own to get me." She laughs it off but then looks at Tab quite seriously. "...you're not here to get me are you?"

Minsc -

"I know!" He replies happily, not missing a beat. "Boo alerted me of your origins immediately. He's delighted to be joined by another of the pantheon, even if a lesser God" He smiles, mindlessly as ever.

[thebawdybaldurian]

Halsin/Tav Week Day 5

This is a continuation of the werebear ficlet I wrote during the eclipse. I wanted to dip my toe into monster fucking and Tav and Halsin are the ideal pair to do it, especially once Tav shares his curse. They are ride or die from one another. The bondage is fairly mild because I don’t really write the pair in the BDSM realm and more of the primal/feral one and the cuckholding is consensual with their lover Astarion. Also, I blame this movie and my unsupervised childhood for this entire thing.

First werebear scene: Total Eclipse

Cuckholding/Bondage

Content and Warnings: PIV sex in a shared tent, involuntary transformation, werebear oral and PIV sex, rough sex, jerking off to werebear sex, were-blow job.

Tav, Halsin and Astarion arrived at Shadowheart’s farm a few days before the eclipse. They weren’t certain what help her father’s journal would be at solving the mystery of Halsin and now Tav’s memory loss during eclipses, but they were also eager to see their friend. The owlbear, no longer a cub, greeted them first, hooting happily from the hole of his large burrow. “Hootles! How are you?” Tav cast her Speak with Animals spell and ruffed his large feathers.

“I am wonderful, my friends. Shadowheart calls me Darkwing now,” the creature answered, nudging his beak against Halsin next.

“That makes more sense,” Tav laughed, as he was now a fully grown adult.

“Are you keeping out of trouble?” Halsin asked, also using his speaking spell.

“I ate a cow the other day that didn’t belong to us,” he lowered his head slightly. “She was a little upset about it.”

“Understandable,” Halsin nodded. “You should be hunting for wild things and not picking an easy meal.”

“I know,” Darkwing sighed, scratching his claws into the dirt. “But…I want to get big and strong…and find a mate.”

“Ahhh, I see,” Halsin grinned at Tav. “I can teach you a few things to get better at it.”

“You’re going to teach him how to mate?” Tav teased, widening her eyes.

“To hunt, Clataedre,” Halsin sighed, shaking his head with a grin.

“What’s the point of having a spell where only you can hear the animal you are speaking to? It’s like having a one-way conversation!” Astarion moaned from inside the covered carriage they’d travelled in.

“Sorry you are feeling left out,” Tav grinned, peeking inside.

“Is that Astarion?” Darkwing asked, buffeting his wings slightly. “Tell him hello.”

“He says hello,” Tav translated, climbing back into the carriage to give Astarion a kiss. “And that he’s looking for a mate.”

“Apparently everyone is these days,” Astarion teased, pulling her close.

Their kiss was interrupted by Scratch, who had bound out of the farmhouse and jumped straight into the carriage. “Hey there!” Tav rustled his fur as his tail slapped against the side of the carriage.

“It’s good to see you all!” Scratch nudged Astarion for more pets, which he happily obliged.

“It’s just a big, hairy and feathery reunion!” Astarion smiled.

“Speak for yourself,” Shadowheart replied from outside, her hair cut short for the moment.

“Another dramatic hair change?” Astarion joked, tossing his longer curls aside. “You haven’t switched Goddesses again, have you?”

“Just wanted to try something different,” she remarked, as her tiefling lover El joined her side.

“I think it looks nice,” Halsin remarked, finding a ball for Scratch and Darkwing to chase.

“Thank you!” Shadowheart ran her fingers through it. “Shall we go inside?”

The farmhouse was small, but fairly open, the group of five able to all squeeze in at the dinner table to chat. They talked about the past year since last seeing one another at Tav and Astarion’s wedding. They had dinner together and then Shadowheart let Tav and Halsin see her father’s journal, detailing his life as a lycanthrope. “Your father was able to control his transformations, with the blessing of Selune,” Halsin noted, looking over the neat handwriting. “Have you ever heard mention of only isolated transformations? Like only during eclipses?”

“Not that I can recall,” Shadowheart shook her head. “I’m still easing back into being a wandering cleric so my knowledge is limited. Why?”

“I have been experiencing memory lapses during eclipses for as long as I can remember. Last year, during the most recent one, Tav seemed to have the same. We had gone out for a picnic and awoke naked and unable to recall what we had done.”

“I told them it sounded like a perfectly normal afternoon for them,” Astarion smirked.

“What about the torn clothes?” Tav smacked his shoulder with a deep blush. “Yes, we sometime get a little too…amorous…but Halsin’s were almost completely torn to shreds.”

“Most lycanthropes lives’ are dictated by the cycles of the moon, perhaps yours has something to do with the sun as well. Or…something to do with your Druidic powers. I can only speculate at this point. We can certainly be sure in a few days, if either of you transforms.”

“Will that be safe?” Tav wondered. “For all of you? I know neither of us could forgive ourselves if we hurt everyone.”

“It might be wise to restrain you. Just in case.”

“Sounds kinky,” Astarion purred.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Tav smacked him playfully again. “And you can watch over us and report any changes.”

They began to make plans for the eclipse that would be occurring in a few days, setting up a spot in the back of the barn where they would be bound for the duration. Tav and Halsin grew more anxious and amorous as the day drew near, sneaking off into the woods several times each day to make love. On the day of the eclipse, Astarion awoke to find them quietly rutting beside him in their shared tent. “You two are insatiable,” he rolled onto his side, watching their bodies hump against one another.

“You’re welcome to join,” Halsin huffed, Tav’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

“I’m happy to watch,” Astarion purred, brushing some of Tav’s hair out of her face.

“Maybe…uhmmm…Shadowheart is onto…hhhhnnn…something with this…sun…and…moon thing,” Tav moaned, her eyes lolling as Halsin fucked her hard. “We’ve both been…fuck…so horny…the part few days.”

“Bestial,” Halsin growled, seizing her bottom lip between his teeth.

They finished quickly, groaning together during their shared climaxes. Astarion finally nuzzled in for some post-cum kisses, watching them both closely. “So you really think you might transform this afternoon?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Tav caught her breath, snuggling between the two of them as Halsin climbed off her. “Or maybe we just came so hard last time it reset our memories,” she laughed. “I know you two have sent me to another plane before with those amazing cocks.”

“You’ve certainly made me forget myself a time or two with that mouth of yours,” Astarion smirked.

“Oh…is that an invitation?” Tav grinned.

“Perhaps later,” Astarion smiled, nipping her ear between his teeth. “I intend to make sure you two are tied up nice and tight in a few hours.”

“Is that a promise?” She purred.

“Of course, my darling.”

They lazed in the tent for a while longer before getting up, each giving Astarion a little nip of blood before they headed to breakfast. They traded off swapping the magical rings that allowed Astarion to walk in the sun, transferring his affliction to the wearer of the matching ring who would be safely inside the farmhouse. Shadowheart gave Tav and Halsin small moonstone charms to wear around their necks, hoping that the gems would at least grant them some recall if they happened to transform. They did another ring swap as they headed to the barn before the eclipse, getting settled inside.

Astarion bound them each with a set of manacles, wondering if they were leftovers from Shadowheart’s days as a Sharran interrogator or for kinkier reasons. They were both sat around a thick post that was buried deep into the ground. “Comfortable?” He teased, adjusting the heavy blankets they were sitting upon.

“This robe is itchy,” Tav wiggled her body, trying to get the loose cloth off her skin. “We could’ve just gone naked if we are going to burst out of our clothes.”

“Naked and tied up might have been too much for me,” Astarion grinned, reaching under her robe to gently rub her skin.

“Can I please blow you now?” She grinned, closing her eyes as he relieved her itch.

“The eclipse will be starting soon enough,” he pinched her nipple playfully. “I don’t want you biting it off.”

“Thank you for watching over us,” Halsin smiled, rubbing his back against the post like a bear to relieve his own itchy skin.

“Of course, darling,” Astarion gave him a good rub as well.

He settled on a bale of hay across from them, opening a book to occupy the time. The sun began to dim slightly as the eclipse began, darkening the barn slightly. “It looks like it started,” he put the book down, looking the pair over. “Do you feel anything yet?”

“Just itchy…and horny,” she teased, shifting again to scratch herself. She and Halsin began to grow increasingly more uncomfortable, moving around a lot.

“It’s getting hot in here,” Halsin panted slightly, feeling sweat beginning to bead down his neck. “Could you open the barn door slightly…get the breeze in?”

“Sure,” Astarion got up, pulling the door open a little.

“Fuck!” Tav gasped suddenly, her body writhing and twisting like she was in the throes of a climax.

“My love…are you?” Astarion lingered by the door, watching them shift and groan.

“Gods!” Halsin growled, the hair on his arms seeming growing.

“Ahhhhh!” Tav growled back, her voice deeper now and her long, golden hair beginning to cover her entire body.

Astarion watched in horror and amazement as the pair transformed, their bodies growing and becoming well furred. Their voices were no longer comprehensible, coming out as only growls and roars. Their ears had curled into soft rounds atop thick heads covered in brown and golden fur. They had short muzzles full of sharp, angry looking teeth. They looked slightly confused, pulling at their manacles, making the post groan slightly. Astarion was worried they’d pull the entire barn down on top of them and quietly stepped out of the door, peering around it to continue watching them.

They calmed slightly when they discovered one another, chuffing and licking each other’s muzzles. The chuffing turned to growls as they licked and nibbled on one another, seeming growing more aroused. The golden werebear, who Astarion could only assume was Tav, began to shift slightly, sliding her manacled wrists up the post so she could seat herself in Halsin, the brown werebear’s, lap. “Dear Gods,” Astarion whispered to himself as they writhed against one another, a thick red cock slowly emerging from Halsin’s fur. Tav strained her thick neck to reach it with her long tongue, making Halsin roar with delight.

“Is everything alright?” Astarion head Shadowheart call from the house, the sky now quite dark.

He hid behind the door, hearing the werebears growl at the noise and waved her away. When he returned his gaze to them, Tav was riding Halsin at a furious pace, her thick, furry hips moving in a familiar way. As much as they had changed during the transformation, he still saw his wife and lover inside of the beasts, and found himself growing a little aroused at their feral lovemaking. Tav was as loud as ever, growling and roaring with each powerful thrust of her hips. Astarion began to gently rub himself, intently watching his bestial lovers going at it.

For Tav and Halsin, things seemed much different. They had each been confused after their transformations, finding themselves restrained and unable to recall how they gotten into this barn. Their last memories had been falling asleep in the woods with their beloved mate. “What’s happening?” Tav cried, struggling against the manacles, sniffing the air for any clues to her location.

“My heart, is that you?” Halsin peered around the post, seeing his beloved she-bear bound next to him.

“Halsin!” Tav roared, pressing her nose against him. “How did we get here?”

“I don’t know…it must be another eclipse…I…I’m so glad you’re still with me.”

“You’ll never be alone like this again,” she licked his face, nuzzling against him.

They kissed and nuzzled after their long separation, their ardor for one another quickly growing. “My beloved,” Tav panted, shifting around the post so she could straddle him. “I need you.”

“Come to me, my heart,” Halsin pulled at his manacles, trying to get free so he could ravage her.

She sunk against him, rubbing her sex against his and letting his musk fill the air. It only stirred them on further as his cock began to emerge, which she strained to lick hungrily. “Yes…my love…that feels so good,” Halsin whimpered, his jaw slavering to taste her. Before he could request to, they heard a distant shout, growling and turning in that direction. They could only see the empty barn around them, and soon resumed their lovemaking.

Tav lifted her hips slightly to mount his slick cock, eager to have him inside her. “Gods…you feel so good,” she cried, bouncing atop him with vigor.

“I need you more than anything,” he roared, straining against his manacles, finally snapping the chain between them and freeing his arms from the post. “I must taste you,” he lifted her hips off his cock for a moment, standing her up so he could nuzzle into her slick, hairy slit.

She roared loudly, straining against her own manacles to free herself. As she broke free, she pulled his face deeper into her cunt, demanding a climax from his tongue. He was more than happy to oblige his she-bear, licking up her sticky arousal with hunger. She dug her claws into the post as she came, leaving deep scratches in it. She ignored the quiet whimpers from beyond the barn door, focused only on her mate at the moment. She backed away from him, daring him to dominate her, letting out a challenging bellow. He crawled towards her, acting as if in supplication before pulling her down to the ground.

They wrestled and fought one another in a rough, but playful manner, their teeth gnashing into fur. Halsin eventually pinned her down from behind, mounting her again as she accepted her defeat with a hungry growl. “Fuck me like never before,” she moaned, digging her claws into the hard dirt floor. He obeyed his mate’s request, fucking her with such fury that she was scrabbling to keep her hands on the ground, digging deep into the dirt with each hard thrust. Through the musk of their lovemaking, she began to smell another scent, her eyes searching the barn for the source.

Astarion was quietly jerking off now, peeking through a crack in the door at his feral lovers primal fucking. They were wild and untamed, fighting one another for dominance. It was strangely beautiful to see them so unbothered by the rest of the world and solely focus on one another. “Shit!” Astarion tensed up when he caught the eerie purple eyes of Tav as Halsin fucked her hard from behind. He wasn’t sure if she could see him from the other side of the door, but she could certainly smell him. Her nostrils flared widely as Halsin continued to pound her, panting loudly. She began slowly edging towards him, pulling herself along with her claws. Halsin had been holding her back with his hands dug tightly into her hips. As he caught the familiar scent as well, he allowed her to move towards it, pushing them closer with each thrust.

Astarion had quietly shut and locked the door from the outside, hoping to keep them at bay once they’d freed themselves of their manacles. As they crept towards the door still tied in their amorous embrace, he found himself unable to run. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or lust that had frozen him in place, but he remained there as they reached the door. Tav clawed her hands up the door, sniffing through the wood to take in his scent. There was a hole in the door that she snaked her tongue through, desperately trying to taste the bead of pre-cum that lingered on Astarion’s cock. “Tav…is that you?” Astarion asked quietly, his cock held protectively in his hand. She made a low noise in her throat to indicate that it was, continuing to lick through the hole. “Are you trying to suck my cock?” He laughed, amused that even in this form, she was demanding of his cum.

She growled lowly, scratching desperately against her door. He slicked his hand over the dew of pre-cum, pressing his palm over the hole. She greedily licked it up, tickling his hand. “That’s my girl,” he laughed as she made a mournful noise, begging for more. “If I put my cock through this hole…are you going to be a good girl? Are you going to be gentle with me?”

She bellowed again, gently pawing the door. “What about Halsin?” He asked, peering through the crack to see him still fucking her, though agonizing slow. He growled in response, licking his lips.

“Dear Gods, the things I do for love,” he took in a deep breath, shifting to slip himself inside the hole. “Easy now,” he flinched as Tav licked him immediately, her tongue larger but still strangely familiar. “Oh fuck…even like this you are still amazing,” he moaned, sinking against the door as Halsin began to huff harder again. “That’s it…fuck her nice and hard for me,” he groaned, gripping tightly to the door.

Tav licked Astarion hungrily as Halsin fucked her, eager to come inside her and join her mouth at the door. “Ahhh…no teeth!” Astarion groaned as the feral pair reached their climax, bellowing loudly and leaving themselves panting for air. “Okay, a little teeth,” he grunted as he felt Halsin’s tongue join hers.

They worked in tandem to bring him to his own end, greedily licking up his cum as the eclipse waned and their forms began to shift back to their elven ones. Astarion opened the door and collapsed into the pile of sweat-drenched bodies, nuzzling against them.

“Mmmmm…Astarion? Is that you?” Tav murmured, beginning to come back to herself, but exhausted from the transformation and vigorous lovemaking.

“Hello, my she-bear,” he laughed, wondering if they ever remembered the last hour.

“Do I even want to know?” Shadowheart asked from beyond the door, the thick scent of sex creeping out of the barn.

“Probably not,” Astarion grinned, snuggling between his lovers.

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

Mirror

Rating: Mature

Content Warnings: Mild adult content, Blood Drinking, Mentions of Violence/Gore, Implied/Referenced Past Abuse

Majexatli always set up their tent a little farther away from the center of camp than the others, something Halsin did as well. Astarion chalked it up to some druidic strangeness, no doubt if he asked either of them they could blather on about nature. Majexatli hardly ever used their tent, though, most nights they simply took a bedroll or wildshaped into a wolf and curled up somewhere on the ground. It’s part of why he had tried to go for their blood in the first place, they were sleeping unguarded, unprotected by a tent, just out of sight of the others. He had meant to try and hunt for some animal to drain, but they had been right there.

The Shadow Cursed lands didn’t have the animals, or even living people, not enough to keep Astarion fed. And Majexatli had given near blanket permission to feed off them ever since the first time... It was foolish really, stupid, for some supposedly wise and experienced Druid to be so careless. Astarion doubted they had meant it, instead feeding himself on wild animals and occasional enemies unless they approached him. But after two days in these cursed lands, Astarion could feel hunger gnawing at him. 

Majexatli had excused themselves to their tent hours ago, they were most likely already asleep, and there was certainly no way he could feed on them while they were asleep. At first, he had tried, when they gave him permission, not to rouse them and just take a sip while they slept, it seemed the best way forward, the least intrusive. But they were vigilant enough that even sleeping he couldn’t even approach their tent without them waking and having their quarterstaff in hand or a dagger at his throat. 

Maybe there was a chance tomorrow they would come across some animals, or at least something that wasn’t undead. Maybe—

He approached their tent with a sigh, not bothering to soften his footsteps. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t find himself being seized by a hold person or crushed into the ground by an owlbear, even as he reached the edge of their tent. The entrance flap was open, a faint flicker of warm candlelight casting shadows across the floor.

Astarion had never seen the inside of their tent before, he realized as he looked inside. The ground was covered in a simple rough canvas, though half of the floor was taken up by various furs. A small log was on one side, covered in moss and small flowers, a lyre propped up against it, neatly folded hide armor laid atop it, next to a shallow woven basket currently filled with some of the plants and mushrooms Majexatli always went out of their way to collect. Their backpack along with various satchels lay half unpacked strewn across the floor nearby.

Atop the furs and sitting at a pair of low wooden tables, was Majexatli. The table in front of them was cluttered with papers and books and maps, quills and ink, a lantern with cracked glass whose candle was burning low. To their side the other table was covered in jars, vials, alembics, a mortar and pestle, from one of the tent’s supports was strung bundle after bundle of herbs left to dry.

Majexatli was shirtless, something Astarion had never seen. They always wandered about camp in either their armor or modest camp clothes, always disappeared off into the woods to bathe rather than doing so in the river at the edge of damp.  While Astarion thought better than to stare, not wanting to invoke Majexatli’s ire, the scars were impossible to miss even with only a glance. 

Thick, deep, jagged gouges—claw marks, clearly—reaching from their waist on the right all the way up over their left shoulder. They took up most of their chest, even the gentle swell of pecs was interrupted, split, twisted. The dark shadows cast by the candlelight only exaggerated the lines on their face, the silver streaks in their hair, the depth of the scars on their chest, the way what few ridges survived were twisted and pulled taut.

He made a point to look away, clearing his throat. 

It was impossible to know what his current standing with them was. The two of them had never been on great terms. Oh, he hated their naive heroism. They weren’t quite like Wyll, bright-eyed and woefully disillusioned, Majexatli was older, seemed tired, jaded. At first, Astarion thought surely they would see his side, yet they instead would derail the entire party to help anyone. It seemed likely they hate him in return, they had no problem grating on his nerves, criticizing his sensible ideas, grimacing at his cruelty. Though for whatever reason, they let him drink their blood, stupidly offered to help fight Cazador, asked him questions about himself same as they did to the others, heard him out each time he tried to explain to them the idiocracy of their altruism. 

Hells, he had tried to hook up with them—surely that’s what they wanted, he thought. Nearly every time he fed on them the two of them seemed to play a strange game of chicken, waiting to see who would be the first to break, who would give into arousal first. He wanted to hold out, but Majexatli seemed immovable, keeping their hands firmly by their side when he fed. 

Once he let his hands wander slightly, just enough to be plausibly an accident, brushing his hand over the front of their chest where their nipple would be, where he now saw there was nothing but scars and twisted muscles. He had tasted the fear in their veins before he felt them tense, though they didn’t push him off, even as their claws dug into the bedroll beneath them. They didn’t stop him, they could have, they were twice his size at least, they could probably deadlift Halsin and barely break a sweat. They could stop him, but they didn’t. 

The confusion had soured his appetite. 

Sometimes in the evenings, when Astarion tried to trance, he remembered the first time, when he had gone too far, drank too much. They had turned into a bear, tossed him off, and pinned him down before he could even blink. He vividly remembered the feeling of them straddling his waist when they came out of wildshape, pressed against him he could feel their arousal, even with their blood loss, their face radiating heat, eyes lidded, mouth so close to his. Even though moments ago he had been faced with the snarling maw, the bared teeth of a beast that could crack his ribcage open even if he had armor, Astarion was already half hard. He knew his face would have been flushed red, lips stained with Majexatli’s blood—the first blood he had ever drank from a person, sweet and rich and intoxicating. Oh, it would have been so easy for them to grind down, for their sharp teeth to dig into his lip, to slide hands under clothing—

But, no, Majexatli had apologized, rolled off him, and laid back on their bedroll in silence, going back to sleep. They went on the next morning to give him that blanket permission to drink their blood, clearly wanting more, only to never so much as let their hands touch him anywhere other than a shoulder. And then at the tiefling party, when he finally broke and offered a night of passion, of whatever carnal pleasure they wanted to take from him, they hadn’t jumped at Astarion’s offer. No, they had paused, given him a tentative “maybe” and ultimately went to bed alone—

“Blood?” 

Majexatli’s voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him out of his reverie. Looking back at them he froze for a moment as he saw that they hadn’t covered up. They had set down the book in front of them on the table but otherwise hadn’t moved. Their quarterstaff still lay by their bedroll, favored dagger nowhere in sight. It seemed wrong.

“I can come back later if—“

“It’s fine, I’ve just been doing some reading,” They looked up at him, studying his face for a moment, “I can put on something if you prefer…?”

Their face was unreadable, it always was, they had to make it difficult. Astarion forced a flirtatious smile.

“Oh, I couldn’t care less, darling, I just don’t want you to decide to skin me afterward for seeing this,”

He hoped he sounded charismatic, nonchalant, not like a starving man, nor someone hopelessly out of his depth in whatever mental lanceboard Majexatli was playing at. Majexatli in turn studied his face, no doubt considering their next play.

“Alright,” They said eventually, “How do you want me?”

A calculated move, perhaps they wanted him to beg, to lay bare how desperate he was, how much he relied on them. But… something about it unsettled Astarion, something in their gaze, something in their eyes reflecting back at him, something he didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know the shape of.

If it was another time, someone else, maybe he would sprawl himself across their bedroll languidly, batting his eyes and loosening his shirt enough for it to slip off a shoulder in an act he knew by rote to entice them to his side. But…

“You can stay just as you are if you like, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your reading,”

Majexatli almost seemed caught off guard, almost, the faintest raise of eyebrows, the slightest pause before nodding. They pulled their braid over their right shoulder—it didn’t have its usual ribbon, the sight felt like something forbidden—exposing the left side of their neck where he already had marked them. Two small pale scars, not fully healed, among a sea of freckles.

By the time Astarion had removed his shoes and come to settle behind them, Majexatli had picked up their book again. They jumped every so slightly as he put a hand on their shoulder, impossible to tell if it was from the touch itself or the coldness of Astarion’s skin—Astarion didn’t feel cold himself, but pressing against their back, feeling the warmth they radiating gods he couldn’t help but shiver, lean in closer to them.

Majexatli inhaled sharply as he sank his fangs into them, tilting their head further to the side for him and he could taste the spark of pleasure, the racing of their heart. Astarion hadn’t drank of many people, so it’s not as though he had enough experience to judge how their blood tasted in comparison to others, but he honestly couldn’t imagine anyone tasting as good as Majexatli. Their blood was rich, slightly sweet yet complex, flavor mingling with the earthy scent of the herbs they worked with, filling him with a fiery warmth that pooled in his belly.

It was a struggle to not lose himself, to not drink until he felt truly full, until the weight in his stomach was drowned in blood. Astarion wanted to be sated but also wanted them to shove him off, pin him down, press their sharp teeth to his flesh and draw blood in payback. 

Instead, he pulled away as soon as he felt the sharp hunger in himself dull, drinking just enough to buy himself another day or two.

Still buzzing from even a small drink of their blood, without thinking, he rested his cheek on their shoulder, let a hand wander slightly. Astarion hadn’t realized he had put a hand on their waist until he felt them stiffen slightly as he felt ridges give way to deep scarred flesh. He swallowed, warmth quickly fading as reality once again settled in.

He pulled away without a word, focusing on straightening his clothes, composing himself as he stood. Looking down at Majexatli, he saw them wince, their fingers lingering over the scars on their waist, where Astarion’s had been moments before.

“Do they hurt?”

It seemed neutral, casual enough. Majexatli wasn’t one for conversation, not like this usually, but he wanted to do something about the tense silence and couldn’t help his curiosity.

“Not always, they’re pretty old,” Majexatli shrugged, “They’re mainly just annoying,”

Astarion opened his mouth to say something, but he felt his tadpole squirm behind his eyes, images flashing in his mind faster than he could fully comprehend.

The face of a young half-elf, fair skin, a kind face, smiling standing by their side in a verdant landscape, warmth and adoration blooming in their chest, consciously snuffing out lingering doubts while hindsight has their skin crawling—

Curling up in a bedroll in the dark, a mantra repeating in their head He can make me great. He loves me. I just need to do what he says. I can have a home. He wants to help me. He’s a good person. I won’t have to be alone.

Looking down and seeing their own chest torn open, intestines spilling out onto the dirt, blood bubbling in their throat, looking behind to where he had been only to find no one, unable to breathe in, I’m going to die alone—

The connection broke as quickly as it had been made, Astarion nearly fell over from the shock of it all.

“Sorry,” Majexatli said eventually, breaking the silence, “My mind’s been a bit scattered lately,”

“It’s quite alright,”

Astarion hesitated for a moment as he stood, unsure whether he should leave, if he should say something more, do something.

“He’s married now,”

It was Majexatli who spoke, though their eyes remained on the book in their lap. The same page open as had been when he first entered the tent.

“Pardon?”

“I assume you saw all that,” Majexatli gestured vaguely, finally glancing up and meeting his eyes, “He’s married now. Has children, even. A beautiful family, I’m sure. Makes sense, it’s been 20 years. I haven’t been back since. Word is he’ll make archdruid one day, his friends are highly respected as well, always have been,”

Astarion opened his mouth to say something. What should he even say? Perhaps a joke, a jab at their character, it’s what they both always did. He couldn’t bring himself to, though, not then. He knew what they were saying, the meaning beneath those words, He’s doing fine despite what he did, I’ve spent my life suffering because of him, but he lives happily and comfortably.

Maybe if Majexatli’s eyes didn’t look so tired and distant and familiar he would climb into their lap, bask in their warmth. He would drag his teeth across their neck, lap at the fresh wound on their neck, try to pull a moan from their lips, get them to melt under his touch, make them forget whatever memories plagued their mind. He would ride them into oblivion until their nerves were screaming from overstimulation and see what their blood tasted like as they came apart.

Maybe they would let him. Would he, if the roles were reversed? The thought felt sour.

“Good night, darling,”

The soft sincerity in his voice startled even him.

“My tent’s always open for you,”

And the lanceboard game reset, though the pieces unsteady; the masks were back on, though cracked. Perhaps the routine was the closest thing to comfort that either of them allowed.

[breakerrhexis]

03. THE LIGHT IN DARK PLACES ❤︎‬

TW: GORE AND BLOOD Also link to the fic here!

You and Clive. Clive and you. The teddy bear and the human trapped in a video game against the world. You could see why Karlach cherished the damn thing so much - it provided comfort. Like an anchor comforts a ship amidst tumultuous waters, promising to never let go. You were surprised when she offered you her beloved bear.

Admittedly, she had hesitated passing it to you, fear gripping her eyes when your hands wrapped around it. Like it pained her to part with Clive. Still, what a sweet thought.

Waking up in a video game aside, a gaping wound existed within you Clive couldn't fix but the question was: to whom did it belong? You or Adin? You felt fear, sure. Who wouldn't in your situation? But why did it feel like you were drowning? Why was there so much pain in your heart? Fire in your lungs. Bugs crawling under your skin. Rotten, rotten, rotten, rotten, rotten-

Clive's matted fur looked wet. His black beady eyes stared at you, sheen with hot tears. Unfamiliar fingers - slender, calloused, and trembling - ran over his face. "What's wrong with me?" You asked softly. "With him?"

Alas, he couldn't answer. Only the tortured echoes of the land did.

Adin's friends - the companions - sat and chatted around a campfire. Shadowheart shooed everyone away to give you space, but you were the kind of person who appreciated company in dire times. You didn't ask them to stay though, as much as you wanted to. They were technically strangers. You knew so much about them and they didn’t know who you were. Not truly.

You stared at them with a sad frown, still twisted in Shadowheart's blankets. You had to tell them. Soon. Not telling them wasn't an option. It wasn't right. But the notion was terrifying - what would they do once you told them? Kill you?

You looked at Clive. "How fucked am I? Be honest."

If Clive could talk, he would've surely said: "So unbelievably fucked."

As much as you didn't want to, camp packed up an hour later and everyone was set to go. With a backpack heavier than your woes and daggers strapped to your side, you were also hesitantly set. But the unease in your gut was not.

"So, what's the plan?" Shadowheart asked you.

You blinked at her. "What?"

"Yes, Adin. What now? You told us to rest and we'd leave later. Where are we going? Are you still unwell?"

"No, no! I'm fine!" You waved her concern off. "I think we..." You racked your brain - where in the hell were you and where did that fall in Act Two? There was no inn in sight or moonrise towers. Were they in the very beginning?

"There's an inn somewhere around here. We'll find help there. Come on!" You marched onward, torch in hand before Shadowheart could ask further questions. You did a meticulous job avoiding the cleric and her questioning gaze.

If there was one notable trait about you, it had to be your amazing memory. Adin had all the brawn but you - you had all the brain. Of course, all of that "brain" was because you played the game before. Still, credit must be given where it was due. You remembered most of the details!

You, however, seemed to have forgotten the teeny tiny detail of Kar'niss and his convoy.

Flying arrows, bottles exploding in massive fires, and a drider striding towards you at an alarming rate of speed - it wasn't what you had in mind. Granted, you had nothing in mind. But it definitely was not that.

From a rooftop Astarion magically appeared on, an arrow landed in one of Kar'niss's eight legs and the Drider roared. "Move!" Astarion yelled from above and you scrambled out of the road into the destroyed house.

Harpers eyed you but otherwise paid you no mind, focused on destroying the convoy first.

You peeked an eye over a windowless square in the wall, watching Halsin's bear form tear an orc's head off. The brutal sight of Halsin spitting out its head like it was gum and blood sputtering from where it was once attached left you sick, bile rising in your throat. You slid back down the wall.

It was a sight you'd never forget.

"Adin, you pathetic worm!" Lae'zel yelled as she ran into the shack where she found you hugging your knees to your chest. "Get up, istik! Come-"

A goblin snuck up behind her, aiming his spear at her head, and your body reacted faster than your mind. In mere seconds, you found yourself where the githyanki had once been - a dagger lodged deep in the goblin's right eye. You blinked as the fog in your brain lifted, your mouth falling open in shock. The goblin, just as surprised, touched the dagger.

Then it wailed, spear clattering to the ground.

You froze, stunned, staring at him as you tried to wrap your head around what happened. What you'd done. But you hadn't meant to. You weren't even thinking about it. You weren't fast enough to do all that - never swift enough to dodge balls even in dodgeball.

Karlach finished the job with a swing of her axe, warm blood splattering across your face in the process. Its head rolled off its shoulders and Karlach stopped it with her foot. She reached down and wretched your dagger free from the goblin's face, taking its eye out in the process.

"Ohh, squishy."

You puked.

Kar'niss was the hardest one to kill, but as his team fell one by one, he stood no chance against twelve people. Even as formidable as the drider was, he succumbed to the throws of death as a Harper ended his life with some sort of spell - drawing his life essence out like a vampire. He crumbled, spider legs falling flat, moonlantern tumbling to the ground.

The Harpers were on you in seconds.

"Who are you?" One of them asked, distrust perceivable in their eyes. "Why’d you help us? It makes no sense."

As the ever-so eloquent one, you responded with a lame, "Uh..." Their fingers danced with green mist and floating leaves. "We're looking for an inn! And a way to Baldur's Gate. We mean no harm!"

Halsin popped up beside you, back in his elven form. His warm voice carried a hint of authority, commanding attention, and respect. "What my friend says here is true. We're indeed looking for a way to the city and the cultist's base of operation. I heard it was here."

The Harpers looked at each other. "Fine, come on. The inn's this way."

You watched as a Harper picked up the lantern. A tiny little voice, unbeknownst to those not looking, pleaded for help. You had almost forgotten about the little pixie, still lost in the memories of blood and daggers.

You yelled, "Wait!" The Harper holding the lantern stepped back, hand on his sword. "There's something inside... Look."

The silver light emitting from the lantern fluttered like a lightbulb blinking on and off.

"Get me out of here! Please! Please! I'll do anything!" A high-pitched voice pleaded. The Harpers glanced at each other.

"You're right..." The one that’d been questioning you nodded. "But we need the lantern. I'm sorry."

"No! Please, let me out!"

"There must be another way," you insisted. "Can I try?"

The Harper narrowed their eyes at you. Halsin, the gentle giant he was, placed his hand on your shoulder. "You can trust him. We won't do anything to jeopardize your mission."

Reluctantly, the man passed you the lantern and you offered a thankful smile in return. 

Inside the lantern, a pixie fluttered about. Her tiny hands wrapped themselves around the iron bars, shaking herself back and forth. "Let me out! Let me out! I will die in here!"

"I'll let you out, don't worry," you whispered, reassuring the poor thing. You unlatched the iron door and yelped as the fairy raced out. The Harpers cursed you out. Halsin's hand on your shoulder tightened.

"FINALLY! Been trapped in that coffin with no one but a mad drider and my own farts for company," the pixie complained, her iridescent wings fluttering like a hummingbird. You laughed much like you did went you first heard that line. "Did me a good turn there, didn't you. What do I owe you?"

"We need to get through this curse. Can you help?"

She hummed, tapping her chin in thought. For a moment, you worried she’d refuse your request, which wouldn’t make a lick of sense considering that never happened in the game. Alas, she nodded. Your shoulders relaxed.

"Here. Give this bell a shake, speak the magic words, and you'll get what you earned. Protection from the shadow curse - what more could a dingus want?"

A bell materialized in the palm of your hand and as the pixie flew off, she shouted over her shoulder, "Your welcome!"

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Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to upload this chapter! Life's been a little crazy lately. I know it's TMI but this is the happiest decision I've made in a while despite the pain its caused me. (TW FOR THE FOLKS THAT NEED IT) I broke off my three year relationship for one important reason: a breach of respect and consent. I didn't realize there was some trauma there. It's almost like my brain fogged up those memories, but you know I realized now rather than later. You don't have to stay until things get worse - a lesson I didn't know I needed until now. There's happiness in this solace I feel now - writing and sipping coffee with my sister. The bad outweighed all the good he'd done, and there was some good but it didn't clear how unsafe he made me feel in the end. No amount of promises, tears, and flowers can erase certain mistakes. But all is good now! I put myself first and fought, so I can't be any happier :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll add and edit and fix if need be

━☆・*。

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[rielzero]

POV: The adventuring party meets up yearly after the epilogue to talk about their lives.

Loki Wren: So, I realized I really liked rats, and decided to raise them by hand because I thought they were cute- Even if they live short lives, I had to think: What else could befriending those critters bring? Loki Wren: Eventually, after selectively breeding the critters, I've gotten all sorts of quirky results, healthy of course. Its important to improve the lives of the offspring. They are my friends!

Loki Wren: To improve my communication skills and to tame them better, I asked Halsin to teach me a few things- I basicially don't go a day without casting speak with animals.

Loki Wren: Then, one of my nests developed a few prodigy rats, very obedient little pets. They're kind of my children. Started teaching them how to gather information. They're cute tiny spies. Very smart, very adorable.

Loki Wren: Had to neuter a lot of my babies though- You know- Things can get out of hand, one of my favorite sons tried to breed with sewer rats, and I didn't want to upset Astarion again with my obsession over these critters.. Early on he was not very happy with my research.

Loki Wren: My precious boy was angry with me first- but then understood it as if I had given him a new great holy mission: To befriend the sewer Colonies and establish an alliance with them through education.

Loki Wren: [starts laughing, there's a giggle at the end] And now I... [wheezes] Have an army of rats at my full disposal, with emissaries of rats training and teaching each other.. Convinced I am god. They developed an entire culture surrounding me.

Astarion: From ratboy, to ratfather, to Locke- then Loki Wren. And then Ratgod. Who would've thought. [chuckles] And now all in Baldur's Gate adore the critters.

Loki Wren: Anyway, the city is now psyched about pet rats and less eager to kill the sewer rats. My ''divine'' protection. [manical laughter] Of course, they do have territorial disputes. Helps keeping the population at bay.

Loki Wren: I love my rats..

Astarion: Sometimes I wonder if you are a genius or just really enthusiastic about your little hobbies.. Then I realize you are both. Always both.

Loki Wren: So what's everyone else been up to?

Shadowheart: Uh, I learned how to swim. Properly this time.

Karlach: The usual, fighting off fiends. [yawns] I would love to pet some rats though!! Wyll: I hunted a few bounties in Avernus... Nothing out of the ordinary. Seldazr: Published another book, I think Volo's jealous of my success. He's been trying to claim my glass eye is the cause. Not much else?

Gale: I've been trying and failing at modifying a scrying spell... Elminster has been dodging my letters. Lae'zel: Could you overthrow another city with the rats? They're pretty much soldiers already. I'm disappointed you haven't tried yet. Minthara: ..I would like to know as well. I think they'd do well in the underdark. Enough space. They could potentially and easily adapt to the ecosystem in a few generations, reigning terror on the denizens and cultivating with their religion into a functioning society. We've seen it happen many times before..

Loki Wren: ..How do you think the Bhaalists were driven out? They work better as spies.

Halsin: Okay- Thank Silvanus. I was worried you were conscripting them.. From what I've seen in the city itself, life thrives better with less conflict and more equity.

Loki Wren: I AM NOT SENDING MY BABIES TO WAR!!!

Astarion: [sips his drink] Of course not, Darling. Of course not.

Loki Wren: This is why we did not invite Jaheira for our repeated reunions, next thing you know she's ruining everything with her paranoia....

Meanwhile back in Baldur's gate

Jaheira: [holds up a pet rat that has no fur] Who's my little Minsc baby- who's my little baby boy??? Yes you are. You are. [scritches the rat]

Rion: Ugh.. Jord: :(

[thenameswinter99]

Halsin, Gale, or Astarion

Oh man, I forgot I still have these kind of asks to answer... 😂 Before answering to the ones I had left in my inbox because of my hiatus-

Kick them out of bed:

Let's be honest: I started playing BG3 for him. All the Insta posts, TikToks, Youtube and Twitch videos of any kind of romance you could do with him convinced me to buy this game and play (and then I ended up romancing Gale first, but details 🤡).

Despite everything, Astarion would be kicked out of my bed like... IMMEDIATELY. I don't mind traveling with a vampire, but please I wish not to wake up with a sharp pain running through the side of my neck only to find out that he's sucking my blood because he's hungry.

I love you, Astarion... But no.

2. Let them stay to cuddle:

Who better to receive a good, healthy dose of pampering? Phisically, on an astral plane, in the middle of the forest created by magic? Every place is perfect for Gale to receive cuddles.

And let's be honest: he totally deserve them. After being dumped by that bitch of Mystra he deserves someone who takes him in his arms and accept every weird aspect of him, loving his eloquent speeches and pompous way to express himself (and also how he shows how proud he is to his infinite knowledge towards wizarding and so on... and even forgiving him for eating magical items that could be useful to you and your team).

Plus, there's Tara too! So cuddles with furs, what a magical combination.

3. Introduce them to friends & family:

Please... PLEASE. I CANNOT CHOOSE HIM IN THIS IF HE'S THE QUINTESSENCE OF DADDY MATERIAL.

But jokes apart, Halsin is the perfect partner/husband that would fit in your family/group of friends extremely well. He's the living definition of "God created men and then created him as an apology", and his quite and gentle nature certainly plays a point in his favour.

Just be careful how you treat the world around you: as the nature lover that he is, he might take it personally if you leave litter on the ground, trample small plants under your feet or treat animals badly. He is the kind of person who would spend the whole day safeguarding nature from the rubbish you leave lying around. But your friends will get over it.

Rank three fictional characters ask game

[girlwiththepapatattoo]

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 11

Warnings: Astarion being himself, a couple suggestive moments, trauma talk

Summary: Some words of wisdom from the newest member of the group, and then later on a party of two.

Notes: I hate editing, but at least editing got this chapter to a place that I like. Enjoy everyone! <3

Read on Ao3 here!

Previous Chapter | First Chapter

A soft breeze ruffles the plants along the path down to the water. The early morning sun beams gentle light down over the earth, sparkling off the river’s deep teal surface. Warming, too, the glossy black fur of the tiny cat that lies on the edge of an overhang just above where the water laps at the end of the path. Bright hazel eyes look out over the water’s path, the kitten’s little chin resting on her paws. 

The sudden scraping of a boot on stone behind her makes her leap up and into a ready-to-flee position, but she immediately relaxes when she sees it’s just Halsin. He lifts his hands as he approaches. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says softly. “I saw you run down here like the hells were after you. Wanted to make sure you’re all right.” 

As he sits down next to her, his long legs dangling off the edge of the rock, he can hear her start purring just a little. It makes him smile. I’m all right, she says, her words filtering through the magic of his speak with animals spell (that he never really turns off). 

“Glad to hear it,” he replies, leaning back on his hands. “What were you running from, if I could ask?” 

She’s quiet for a moment, before sighing and sitting in a loaf position next to him. I got embarrassed.

“Hm. About anything in particular?” 

He glances down, seeing her stiff posture, her little tail twitching in the dirt. …thank you, for last night, she says instead. 

“No need for that, my friend,” he murmurs. “Astarion didn’t need the nudge as much as you did, I think.” 

I…think you’re right, she says softly, sounding frustrated at herself. I know there’s nothing wrong with…with sex. It’s a natural thing. But…up until last night and this morning, it was a natural thing that didn’t happen to me.

“New things can be scary,” Halsin agrees. “But was the fear worth it?” Almost immediately, she breaks out into a purr so loud he’s not sure how her little body can produce the sound. He can’t help but laugh, reaching out and giving the top of her head a little scritch. “Good! I’m very glad that it worked out so well then. But that doesn’t explain why you were so embarrassed you ran all the way out here.” 

She tells him what had happened, what Astarion had said to the cleric. I know logically that the rest of the group were going to find out eventually. Especially if he and I um…indulge in camp again. But I’d been hoping that it would have come out, say, around dinner, when I could have had a hand in the conversation. Not…like that. And what he said… 

He chuckles softly, his warm eyes watching the water flowing downstream. “I think Astarion was lashing out defensively, little one. He didn’t appreciate being interrupted with his new lover. And, as he has the razor-sharp wit to let someone know when he’s displeased, well…I’m certainly not surprised he said something like that.” 

That’s…a really good point. She heaves a tiny sigh. I need to learn to stop running away every time I’m embarrassed like this. I just get so overwhelmed…I wish I was bolder, like Astarion is.

Halsin laughs, loud and long. “I’m sorry, I’m–ha–I’m just picturing two Astarions in camp. Oh, the chaos…” Sable can’t help but giggle along with him. Then he sighs and looks at her seriously. “Being bold is a fine thing, my friend. But never forget that you’re you. Learn from these new experiences at your own pace, and those who know you, truly know you, will care for you regardless of how bold you are.” He smiles faintly. “I’m sure that’s why Astarion hasn’t come looking for you. He figures that you want some time alone to process.” 

There’s a flash of golden light, and when it fades Sable the woman is sitting next to him, smiling faintly. “I think you’re right. About…about all of it. I’ll try and be kinder to myself.” 

“Good,” he replies, content with her answer. “If anyone deserves kindness shown to them, it’s you.” He stands, offering her a hand up, which she takes. “Now. I believe we promised our friends some mending spells. Shall we go find them?”

“Oh! Yes, let’s go!” 

Feeling much better about what had happened earlier, Sable walks beside her new friend, happiness swirling in her heart. 

A happiness that only grows once they reach the group and she sees Astarion, sitting on a wooden crate, bent over his sewing. The morning sun lights up his profile, turning his curls into a halo of silver. His long, slender fingers handle the needle deftly, neat rows of stitching appearing in the fabric, hidden where they need to be hidden. His lips are parted ever so faintly, the tip of his tongue held very gently between his fang and regular canine tooth. 

So caught up by the sight, she doesn't notice Wyll stepping up beside her, a soft smile on his lips. “Someone’s a little love-struck,” he murmurs softly, and she immediately blushes, tearing her gaze away. 

“That obvious?” she asks, smiling weakly, and he chuckles. 

“Yes, but it’s not a bad thing. I’m glad for you.” He pauses, then sighs and lowers his voice even more. “Just be careful. You’re a very sweet woman, and he’s…well. I wouldn’t see you hurt, let’s put it that way.” 

Sable’s immediate reaction is to scowl at him. She wants to snap, it’s plain on her face, wants to tell him that his judgment is as wrong as it was with Karlach. Instead, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I get it. But…he’s not just the way he presents himself,” she says, and though she keeps her voice down, it’s full of confidence. “I appreciate your concern, I do. But I…we’ll be fine.” 

“For your sake, I hope you're right.” He gives her shoulder a pat and moves off, his leather armor in one hand and a small bag of tools in the other. 

Sable shakes her head, annoyance swirling in her gut. She knows they mean well, but it’s also not like she can just blurt out what she knows about him to change their minds, either. He’s let her in, and no one else. So she’ll have to grin and bear the comments. 

Though, she thinks as she crosses to him, if they get too annoying I’ll just shapeshift. Then they’ll have to bear it. Literally.

Astarion looks up as she approaches, and she sees the difference in his posture immediately. His shoulders relax, his eyes fill with fondness, and his smile softens out a little. “There’s my darling kitten,” he all but purrs, shifting over on the crate to make room for her. “I was wondering where you’d run off to.” 

“Sorry,” she says softly, sitting down and leaning her head on his shoulder. He blinks down to her in surprise–this is positively bold for her. “Got a little overwhelmed, but I’m okay now.” 

“Good,” he murmurs, and he leans over and brushes a kiss over her forehead. “I’d figured you needed some time to think.” 

“Yeah. Thank you,” she murmurs, unable to stop the smile from curling her lips. 

“Oh? For what, darling?” He looks back down to his sewing, and she watches his wingers weave the cloth together. Looks like one of Gale’s shirts. 

“For understanding me so well already,” she replies softly. 

His fingers pause for a brief second, before continuing on. “Yes, well, you’re not exactly hard to read, kitten,” he teases gently, and she huffs, though not really offended. “But you’re welcome. If you need space, you need space. All you have to do is say so. Or, you know, turn tiny and run, that sends a pretty clear message.” 

She can’t help but laugh, quickly smothering it behind her hand. Then Lae’zel is coming over with some armor covered in dings and dents, and her hands glow a soft blue as she starts mending it. 

////////////////////////////////////////////

The celebration party is in full swing. Sable’s lost count of how many people offer their thanks, or sing her praises (once literally, in the case of the bard Alfira), or offer her drinks which she politely declines. A couple of her new friends are very much enjoying all the attention. Several have made themselves scarce, and she wishes she could do the same, honestly. 

She finds Astarion near his tent, a bottle in hand and a grimace on his face. “After all we did for them, you’d think they’d offer us better wine,” he says to her, just a little of the grimace lifting in her presence. 

She shrugs, smiling as she steps up to his side. She doesn’t touch him, unsure if, after all the socializing he’s been nearly forced to do, he’d welcome the contact. She itches to put her arms around him, though… “I wouldn’t know about wine, Astarion,” she says softly. 

“Not much of a drinker, hm?” he asks softly, and to her delight he winds his own arm around her waist. He smiles faintly as she all but melts into him, laying her head on his shoulder. “You’re lucky in this case. Damn stuff tastes like vinegar.” 

“Is it really that bad?” she asks, a little disbelief cutting through the contentment. 

“Have a sip yourself.” He offers her the bottle, watching as she lifts it and takes a sniff. Her nose wrinkles at the smell, and he has to fight the urge to tell her it’s one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. She takes a very small sip and immediately spits it out. “See? Awful.” 

“Ugh, is that what all alcohol tastes like?” she gasps, wiping her mouth. “Why even bother?” 

He laughs faintly. “Gods, no, not all alcohol tastes like that! Once we’re back in Baldur’s Gate, I’ll take you out somewhere nice. We’ll get you a cocktail that tastes like delectable fruit juice, but will knock you right onto that cute little ass of yours.” 

As he’d hoped, she turns red and gently swats his chest. “Astarion!” 

His mood thoroughly lifted, he snickers and lowers his head, nuzzling gently against the scabbed over bite marks on her throat. “Yes, my sweet? Did I say something wrong?” 

She shivers, her eyes fluttering closed as she feels him gently lick at one scab. “N-Not out in front of everyone!” 

He huffs softly. “Darling, everyone is so thoroughly sloshed right now that no one’s going to remember this. Buuuut, if it will make you more comfortable, how about we go somewhere more private?” 

She looks up at him as he straightens, that little smirk she likes so much on his beautiful lips. “I…I’d like that.” 

The smirk deepens, and he lifts her hand, brushing a lingering kiss over her knuckles. Her heart skips a beat as his eyes darken. “Well then. Let us venture into the night, my sweet.”

Mouth dry from his words and that simple touch alone, she lets him tug her off, deeper into the Grove and away from the party. They wind up underneath a tree near the river, higher up than where she and Halsin had their talk earlier that day. Astarion sits and leans up against the tree, and when she hesitates he quirks an eyebrow and points at the spot between his legs. 

This man is going to kill me, she thinks, but sits down between his splayed thighs and leans back against his chest. “There we are,” he purrs into her ear. “Nice and cozy.” 

She sighs and relaxes as his arms wrap around her waist. “Very cozy…it’s nice to be close to someone.” 

“It is, isn’t it?” he murmurs, brushing his lips over the tip of her pointed ear and making her shiver. 

“A-Astarion…” She tilts her head, away from his distracting mouth to meet his darkened crimson eyes. “We don’t…have to do anything like that tonight, if you don’t want to. I actually want to check in on you, make sure you’re all right after this morning.” 

He stares at her. No matter how often she asks, he’ll never be over it, never not appreciate her concern for his own well-being. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, before pulling away. “My sweet, you’re too good for this world. I’m…” He stops himself. He was going to just say that he’s fine, that there’s nothing to worry about…but he doesn’t want to be flippant with her. Not with her. 

So he really thinks about it. Reflects back on how this morning went, how it makes him feel. 

It had been…different, with her. There were still moments, of course, moments where flashes of unease, of something akin to disgust raced through him. And he would have to remind himself that he was with her, not a mark, not a victim. He was with her, and her pleasure mattered to him, and not in a predatory way. 

She matters to him. She matters to him. Oh, how quickly his kitten has wormed her way into his long-dead heart. No one was supposed to matter to him, other than himself, but his feelings for her were inescapable now. He smiles softly, almost ruefully. Leave it to the softest person he could ever imagine to get under his skin. 

“I’m…good,” he finally says. “Quite good, actually. I won’t lie, there were…moments where I was uncomfortable.” Her face drops, and she opens her mouth, no doubt to ask why he hadn’t expressed that at the time. He presses his fingers gently to her lips to silence her. “But I felt safe to continue. I knew that if I’d said something, you would have stopped immediately. And…darling, you’ve no idea what that means to me.” His hand cups gently around her cheek, his thumb stroking over her soft, freckled skin. He smiles, soft and gentle, and he hears her heartbeat speed up. 

Her eyes go over-bright, and her smile is just a little wobbly. “Good! Good, I…Gods, I’m so relieved!” 

“Were you worried about it all day?” he asks softly. 

“A little,” she admits, gently taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. “I…” She blushes faintly. “I’ve realized, between last night and this morning, that…sex with you is literally the best I’ve ever felt in my life. And I can absolutely see myself getting…quite addicted to your touch. But even if I’m, well, ready to go, if you don’t want it, I want you to tell me so. I don’t want you to just…force yourself.” She takes a deep breath and firms her gaze. “If it’s not good for you, it won’t be good for me.” 

He stares at her. His heart is filling, aching in his chest, and instead of words he buries his face into her neck and squeezes her tight against him. She smiles, understanding, and holds her lover just as tight, listening to the gentle wind in the trees and the distant sounds of the party. 

She knows that she doesn’t need to go back to the accolades tonight. The gentle kiss he presses to her pulse point is all the praise she needs.

[simp-ly-writes]

My Glance Meets Your Touch request is so good! I love this especially they still intend on slaying the absolutes army but to also go further in their relationship with him, they can't help but feel a pit seeing everyone enjoy themselves, Halsin is so observant that he noticed & tried to help, he checked the wound on their hand which they didn't notice, they're leaning into his touch, they tried to pull him back... before realising what they tried to do & think of an excuse like me XD, he gently but firmly wants to know where does it hurt, they didn't want to do it now when everyone is enjoying themselves 🥺, he's displeased but accepted their decision, they're pulling knots from his fur while scratching him slightly as he changed to a bear, they wonder how would it feel if it's them, he noticed that they're thinking of something before changing back to help Gale with dinner, he observed them spent a lot time petting & laying with the owlbear & Scratch which I WANT TO DO SO BADLY, he's worried about them freezing while asleep, he asked the gang while they're away about their condition thinking they want to break with him for some reason 😭, Lae'zel is the only one who suggested something violent XD while everyone else said to talk to them, everyone left so he can confront them, they're enjoying his touch before looking up to notice his expression, they tried to move away but he pulled them back into his lap, he's scratching their scalp while apologising for not noticing, he chucked while they hide their face like I would, he reassured them it's nothing to be ashamed of, they kiss his chin before apologising for not telling him, Karlach, Astarion, & Lae'zel's reactions to both of them holding hands XD, they somehow managed to sneak the owlbear & Scratch into the room they're staying with him, how they're enjoying his touch without hiding it, Halsin tried to wake them up first but Scratch is faster XD, he managed to get Scratch to wake the others with the owlbear following, and they get to enjoy a warm bath with him! Thank you so much for doing my request because I love it so much :)

Thank you so much for the request, I loved writing it- super please to see you loved reading it as well! Happy new year! 😄

[elisende]

Dark Gift

Characters: Halsin/OMC, Halsin/Ketheric, Wyll, Shadowheart, Volo  Rating: E Words: 3404

After a night of passion, Halsin and Langoth return to camp to find their companions have also made the most of the night's revelry.

But something is bothering the ranger and finally, he asks his lover Halsin about his past with the enigmatic Ketheric Thorm. There is always more to the story...

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”

Mary Oliver, The Uses of Sorrow

They did not sleep that night, the night that forever afterward Halsin would call their wedding night, only half-joking.  In silence as deep as the sky’s blackness, they watched the stars wheel and fade.  Held each other tightly on the stone table as the celebration in camp raged and then dwindled.  Listened to the small sounds of rustling animals and the first sweet notes of dawn’s chorus.  

“My favorite time of day,” he told Langoth.  “There’s no match for the dawnsong of high summer.  The finest symphony ever composed.”  

The ranger smiled, distantly.  “It reminds me of the first time,” he said, his voice so soft it was nearly below hearing.  “I had never experienced anything like it--like you.”

The morning light caught Langoth’s long, chestnut hair, gilding it, bathing his face in a warm golden glow.  Halsin’s breath caught in his throat.  He had been awestruck by the youth’s beauty that first night in the High Forest.  Just as he was now.

“Nor I you,” he said.  He took Langoth’s face in his hands and whispered roughly, uncouthly, “I want you again.”

The elf leaned into his embrace, breath hot on Halsin’s neck.  “Then take me.”

Halsin growled and straddled him, looming above the slighter man, his broad shoulders blocking the rising sun.  They were both still bare from the waist up and he raked his fingers down the ranger’s chest as he bent to kiss him ravenously.  Langoth gasped at the mingled sensation of Halsin’s rough hands and plunging kiss; his hips rose to brush the front of the druid’s pants, finding him already hard.  He ground up against him in slow, firm strokes, provoking a groan from deep in Halsin’s throat.

“You don’t realize what you do to me,” Halsin gasped.  “Gods.”

The youth just smiled as though he knew precisely his effect on the druid and pulled Halsin’s muscled ass closer to him and thrusting faster, harder.    

The feeling of Langoth’s own desire pressing and stroking against his own was nearly enough to finish him.  But before that could happen, Halsin grabbed him around the waist and flipped him onto his belly, jerking down his leather breeches as the elf moaned beneath him.  The birdsong around them was in full throated climax as he plunged into him, feeling the elf’s sublime tightness barely giving way to his thick cock.  Langoth exclaimed, in both pain and pleasure, as Halsin thrust mercilessly, driven by blind need.

“Langoth,” he murmured; he knew how his lover enjoyed hearing his own name on Halsin’s lips.  The ranger cried out in response and Halsin pulled him closer, wrapping his muscled arm around his chest.  In contrast to last night, his peak was building slowly, inexorably, like a wall rising stone by stone.  

The rising sun struck the table, bathing them both in an orange glow.  His lover was beautiful beneath him, his strong back rippling in the soft dawning light.  Halsin tracked the muscles with his hand and then slid it down below to stroke his member.  The ranger gasped, thrusting eagerly against his touch, and they moved as one.  

Langoth’s breath quickened, shoulders faltered.  As he felt his lover come, Halsin himself lost control; with one thrust, and then another, he finished, gasping, on the elf’s back.

The chorus had abated and the sun’s rays had mellowed.  Langoth sat up beside him, leaning close.  “We should get back before the others wake,” he said.

“I do hope Astarion hasn’t waited up for you,” Halsin said.  He didn’t even try to suppress his laughter, though he knew it was unkind.  

Langoth was more circumspect but a ghost of a smile played on his lips as he said, “I’m certain he had no shortage of other entertainments last night.”

No one stirred at the camp when they returned--no one, except--

“The hero returns!  Ah, and the wise and mighty king of druids, Master Halsin!  I’ve a new stanza to celebrate your victory, good sirs, only I struggle to find a word that rhymes with ‘muscular,’ and I feel I would be derelict in my sacred commission as bard and poet if I failed to mention Master Halsin’s particular, ah, physical qualities… and allusion simply doesn’t suffice, I don’t think, when it comes to his spectacular form!”

He thought he heard Langoth mutter, “It’s far too early for this.”  But it might have only been his imagination.

“Druids do not have kings,” Halsin explained to Volo, for at least the third time since they had met last week.  “And you needn’t talk about my, er, form.  Though I am flattered.”  

“Of course you and I know druids don’t have kings,” Volo said, as though Halsin were being quite stupid.  “But we need to remember our audience doesn’t have the sophistication required to understand the ‘first amongst equals’ principle espoused by the druids, et cetera.  Oh!  It’s so obvious.  ‘Muscle,’ singular--rhymes with ‘tussle.’  Perfection!”  Volo strummed a chord on his lute with a fervor that was frankly alarming and Halsin instinctively looked around for an exit.

“Right, I need to wash,” he said, heading for the river.  “Goodbye.”

“I also need to see to a--personal matter.  Gods keep you, Volo,” Langoth called behind his shoulder.  “I will remember how you left me out in the cold just now,” he added under his breath, even as the corner of his lips twitched.  Halsin’s heart lurched pleasantly and he turned his gaze back toward the rushing water of the Chionthar, already slipping out of his tunic.  

“I would aid you against any enemy in the deepest dungeon of the Underdark,” Halsin said.  “But you’re on your own with the bard.”

They bathed together in the rushing stream, Langoth capering on the rocks and diving into the deep pool under a cataract as Halsin watched.  The water was cold and bracing and Halsin couldn’t resist enjoying it in his bear form; there was simply no comparison to experiencing the icy rush of the river running through his thick fur.  He changed back once he emerged, dripping, onto the shore, Langoth close behind in his smallclothes.

“Someone was up late,” a smooth voice teased.  The Blade of the Frontiers emerged from his tent, wearing a lopsided grin and little else.  He had a bowl of streaky, grayish gruel that looked distinctly unappetizing.  But then, a human would eat nearly anything.

“Ah.  Did you... enjoy the celebration?” Langoth asked, color rising to his cheeks.  But then, from behind Wyll, the haughty cleric called Shadowheart emerged from the tent, cheeks even redder than Langoth’s, if it were possible.  Her lips were still stained purple from last night’s cheap wine.  Halsin’s head nearly throbbed in sympathy. 

“Evidently so,” Halsin remarked.  The young people were so obviously uncomfortable that he almost laughed.  But then he remembered his own tenderness and shame in his youth and his heart softened for them.  “Gods, but we’ve earned some respite, have we not?  And much still lies ahead.”

The others eagerly seized on this line of discussion and a profusion of enthusiastic, if stilted, comments followed about battles fought, foes defeated, and speculation of those still to come.  Halsin enjoyed seeing Langoth with his companions, his earnest expressions, the innocence of his words.  Finally, the young people extricated themselves from their rhetorical bondage and all sauntered off in different directions, Langoth grabbing his elbow as they went.  

The youth didn’t want to let him out of his sight and this, too, was touching.  He had all the hours of the day for his lover, whose face was a song of which he could never tire.  In contrast to Volo’s forced rhymes.

They laid their clothes to dry in a sunny spot by the river and Halsin rested beneath a friendly looking ash tree and closed his eyes.  He asked its name with a minute scratch of his thumb against the bark and it answered; a name that sounded like the rustling of acorns against one another in the mellowness of autumn.  A lovely name, one he committed to memory.  Halsin sighed, the sun warming his chest, grateful to be alive on such a day.  

“Are you just going to meditate now?”  Langoth’s voice came from leagues away.  Halsin opened his eyes.  “Only… I had a question.”

He regarded Langoth, ready for nearly anything.  

“You said before that you had defeated Ketheric but it seemed as though perhaps you knew him, once.  Do you--is there...?”  

“‘Is there more to the story?’ you mean?”

Langoth bit the inside of his cheek, mustering his nerve.  “Well, is there?”

Halsin leaned back against the ash who was named after a sound of acorns rustling, feeling every year of his five centuries.  “There is always more to the story,” he said.

“Tell me,” Langoth said softly, looking at his hands.  He sensed the story was troubling, and he was not wrong.  Halsin thought Langoth was probably rarely wrong when it came to troubling things.  They whispered to the secret wound he carried in his breast, like calling to like.  Halsin sighed.

“Of course I shall tell you if you wish to know,” he said.  And yet, even as he spoke the words, he was unsure if he should.  “It all began in Waterdeep,” he began.

*

Have you been?  Magic runs through that city, and I feel it in my marrow whenever I cross into its wards.  The city was built on a mountain of mithral, on the ashes of a forgotten citadel of Illefarn.  Ancient seams of blood and magic run beneath it.  You can hear it, like a ringing in your ears.

There was some reason for me to be there, but I barely recall it.  All I now remember is him.  And what came after, of course.

I spurned the inn, as I always do.  Too much comfort has always seemed suspicious to me, as have affections exchanged for coin.  Yet there is precious little nature left in Waterdeep, so I took my repose in a graveyard, under the open sky.  The only place in the city where one could find a tree.  

They were sad and lonely, those trees: a weeping willow, a scrawny, leafless box, and a twisted old yew.  The yew had gone mad from loneliness--yews are prone to madness in any case, but this one was particularly ill.  Perhaps that is why the priests of Shar claimed this particular graveyard for their rituals.  The yew had seeped its poison into the very ground and it was a dark and morbid place.  Full of shadows.  Now I wonder if the sick yew wasn’t in some indirect way the genesis of all that’s happened since.  

I watched them under the cover of a glamour so that I seemed to their eyes like a stone gargoyle warding a tomb.  They were initiating a half-elf and his terror carried on the wind.  I could smell it.  He was barely grown, undernourished.  His voice was strong though, and surprisingly deep, like the low roll of the tide coming in from the sea’s depths.  

I’ve been alive long enough to learn not to cast easy judgments.  Shar and her dark worship--what were such things to me?  Was it so different to swear oneself to the Dark One as it was to the Lady of Pain?  Or the Lord of the Dead?  But something in this ritual chilled me.  

It felt as though… this dark ritual had meaning beyond its meaning.  My mother had the gift of foresight and some little of it passed to me.  I cannot see the future as though I were watching a play, as she did.  But I can often sense danger, or tidings of happiness to come.  It’s kept me alive, more times than I can count, this gift.  And now, it filled me with dread.  The dread of a hundred kingdoms falling.  A dread worse than mere death or danger.  The dread of a coming apocalypse.

The half-elf turned and even in the gloom of the moonless night, I recognized his face.  For my mother had shown me this face when I was a boy, in the final moments of her life.  She met a violent end--but that, I will speak of another time.  I had believed she showed his face to me because he was my destiny.  But perhaps she showed me because he would be my doom. 

In my shock, the glamour slipped.  Only the half-elf saw me.  And I recovered so that when he turned back I was once again disguised as senseless stone.  

Perhaps that would have been the end of all if I had left it alone.  But destiny carves a path before itself, one we mortals are incapable of altering.  Such I have come to believe, though perhaps only as means to absolve myself.  

They completed their ritual by draining the youth of his blood, to the point of death.  And many do die.  But the half-elf did not, and Shar claimed another acolyte to her worship.  How peaceful he looked in that moment, on the precipice between life and death.  They bore him off on their shoulders into the night, leaving me with mad yew and my own dark thoughts.

The very next day I sought the Temple of Shar.  It’s no simple place to find, even in permissive Waterdeep.  Her worship is outlawed and her followers jailed when discovered.

You may well ask why I troubled myself.  Why I could not leave well enough alone, as the humans are wont to say.  I was compelled by both curiosity and dread.  

It is a strange thing to say aloud, but the image of the half-elf’s face was all I had left of my mother and even as it repelled me, I also felt closer again to her somehow in finding him.  I had to know the meaning behind it, to recover even this small remnant of her memory.  If you have lost someone, perhaps you understand my meaning.  

It took some days and many false turns but in the end, I located their temple.  Simple chance finally led me to the right direction--or destiny carving its path before me, take your pick.  

If I was worried about what I might say to the half-elf when I met him, I needn’t have, for he recognized me immediately.

“The gargoyle of a druid I saw,” he said, by way of greeting.  “So you weren’t a vision from my Dark Lady, after all.”

He always spoke like that.

I answered that I had seen the ritual, and feared for his life.  I asked how he had come into the service of the Dark Goddess and he told me his story.  It was a brutal, tragic tale, and he told it without remorse or sentimentality.  When again I pressed him--why did he devote himself to Shar?  He answered that none other had claimed him, only the Lady of Loss.  As though his life were simply a ripe apple falling senseless from a tree.

In my pride, I thought that by removing this youth from Shar’s faithful would heal him, that I could restore the balance to his soul.  That I could heal him.

I took him to the Emerald Grove.  The power of that place is ancient, its healing magic is more powerful than you ken.  Not just Silvanus’s power, though that resides there too.  I believed the grove would restore him and would avert the darkness that lay ahead.  

In how many legends to mortals hasten along the very events they sought to prevent?  Well, here is another.

For a time, I believed that Ketheric was healed.  The light returned to his eyes, the blood to his flesh.  By day, he walked the forest with me and I taught him such that I know: more than most will learn, but still precious little compared with the forest’s immensity.  Every tree is a world unto itself.

And I loved him.  Desired him.  Claimed him.  It blinded me to the truth.  For Shar would not be so easily forsaken.  She was jealous of her supplicants and for Ketheric she had great designs.  

I believed he had left Shar behind in distant Waterdeep.  In Ketheric, I thought I saw my destiny to bring him back into the light.  

Only arrogance and perhaps lovesickness can explain why it took me so long to realize why the forest grew darker over those seasons.  Parasites thrived and the trees fought silent battles within the buried paths beneath the earth.  Plants that once were allies became bitterest enemies and starved each other out, poisoning one another’s roots.  Pestilential insects devoured the warring plants.  Even the water was tainted, sickening creatures and the druids in my grove.

Kagha saw the truth first.  And if perhaps you wondered why I allowed her to stay, here is the reason.  Because Kagha’s heart may be as hard as ironwood, but she is unflinching in the face of the truth and I--well, now I know that I cannot always trust my own judgment.

She unmasked Ketheric, finally made me see, but by then it was too late.  He had seen the power of the grove, and he desired it for himself.  For his Dark Lady.  Ketheric escaped my judgment and Kagha’s wrath but I knew he would return.

Three years passed and in that time, Ketheric became a force.  More than a mere man.  He was a legend and followers flocked to him, drawn to his power.  More than power; his absence of fear.  For since that night that Shar had taken him, I had never once witnessed him frightened of anything.  That was the source of his terrible charisma, I believe, why people followed him into madness and marched to their deaths on his order, with happy hearts.  That they, too, could be so fearless.  

He took the Temple of Selune first.  The priests there fought hard and long but Ketheric would not be thwarted and his forces seemed limitless.  The stories are still told of the terrible butchery committed in the Shattered Sanctum, and I will not repeat them.  

They rode out from the Shattered Sanctum to terrorize the country.  That is when we first spoke of the Rite of Thorns, for there was no question of protecting the surrounding land from Ketheric’s army.  Then the Harpers came.

I could tell you all manner of stories about the long history of the Harpers and the Emerald Grove, but those romances only imply the true foundation of that ancient alliance: one born of dire necessity against unassailable darkness.   Which is all to say, the Harpers and the Druids have joined when all seemed lost.

So it seemed to us then.  With the power of the Shattered Sanctum and an army of faithful, Ketheric completed a dark ritual, one that required a fountain of blood sacrifice.   The Shadow Curse.  A plague on the land and all that lived there, committing their souls into bondage to Shar.

He completed the ritual and cast the land into darkness before I could finally end him.  I held him as he died, and he looked just as he did on the night in the Waterdeep graveyard.  At peace, finally, in the arms of his Goddess.  The only one he ever truly loved, I still believe.  

That fight nearly took my life.  As for the others, I marched them to their graves.  Of all the druids and Harpers who fought on that day none survived.  A handful of Ketheric’s dark justiciars escaped, scattered.  Of those, all have fallen to madness or early deaths.  

Only I now remain witness to the horrors of that long night.  

*

Halsin found it hard to hold his lover’s gaze for shame.  Now he knew of his failure, his blindness.  He would scorn him, as Kagha had: weak, arrogant, feckless.

Instead, Langoth took his hand in his own, kissing his rough knuckles.  Forgiveness so sublime, so unexpected that his eyes pricked with unshed tears.  

“You did what you could.  And we will end the curse when we reach Moonrise Towers.  That I promise you.”

Halsin closed his eyes.  “Thank you.”  In the wood a thrush sang, as though to remind him of something he had long forgotten.  Something like hope.

[thebawdybaldurian]

A Winter’s Holiday in Waterdeep

Background and description: Bard Tav and spawn Astarion head to the City of Splendors on their way north in search of a cure for Astarion’s vampirism. They drop in on their friend, Gale Dekarios, during the Winter Solstice. The couple spend the day inside, entangled with one another, before joining the night’s festivities at Gale’s tower. (This was intended to be a one-shot, but will end up getting included in post-brain chapters of Tale of the Tadpoles)

Content: minor post-game/epilogue spoilers, sex (a lot), blood drinking, soft domination.

Tav and Astarion arrived on the outskirts of Waterdeep an hour before sunrise. They had hoped to arrive with a little more leeway, but unexpected snow had slowed down their horses. They were both bundled tightly in soft wool underclothes, riding leathers, fur-lined overcoats and waterproof cloaks. They would have normally remained home in Baldur’s Gate during the colder winter months, but their newest lead on Astarion’s cure was too promising to wait for Spring. They had already contacted Gale about their impending arrival, but wouldn’t be able to reach his tower before they needed to retreat from the morning sun.

They chose to stop at the nearest inn that looked nice enough, leaving their horses in the stables before venturing inside. “Gods, it feels like I will never warm up again,” Astarion shivered as they walked passed the threshold. Being a public house, he could move freely through the downstairs tavern, but once they reached their room upstairs, he would still need Tav’s permission to enter. There were only a few souls up this early or late depending on your view. The innkeeper was just starting a large pot of porridge for breakfast and looked up at the newest arrivals curiously. It wasn’t a typical time for anyone to arrive, especially during winter.

When Astarion pushed back the hood of his cloak, the woman shivered slightly, noting his unusual paleness. He was far from the first vampire to enter and although they were typically well behaved inside, she still made a special note in her head about the pair. “Good morning,” Tav pulled her own hood down, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She noted the slight look of relief on the innkeeper’s face when she realized the vampire’s companion was of the living variety.

“Good morning,” the innkeeper responded, bowing her head slightly to them. “Will you be needing a room?”

“Just for the day,” Tav replied. “We are staying with a friend further in the city later this evening. A large bowl of that porridge and plenty of hot water would be wonderful as well, please.” She opened her coin purse and slid more than enough gold across the counter.

“Of course,” the innkeeper nodded. She brought Tav a key, telling her a porter would bring everything up once it was finished.

They climbed the stairs with their packs, finding their room the furthest away. It had become quite common during their journey, the cold making Astarion’s undeath even more apparent. He would get almost blue if out in the cold too much, so Tav made sure they were well dressed for their long trek North. She opened the door, inviting him in first, and then setting her bags near the cold fireplace. She unfastened her cloak and coat, slinging them across a nearby chair. “Halsin is certainly right about the uncomfortable restriction of clothes,” she shook her arms out, happy to be free from the extra weight.

“You should have asked him to come with, as our personal heater,” Astarion joked, taking off his cloak, but keeping his coat on for now. Even inside, he felt chilled to the bone.

“Ah that would have been nice,” Tav grinned, starting to get the fire going.

Astarion got into his pack, searching for one of his bottles of blood, needing something to eat. “Frozen solid,” he sighed, tipping the bottle upside down, the thick liquid inside not moving.

“Come here then,” she smiled slightly and unwound the scarf from around her neck. He looked through the other bottles, just in case any of them where drinkable. She knew he was being stubborn and walked over to him, putting her hands on his face. His skin felt like ice, but she kissed him nonetheless. “Come on, it will get you warmed up. You feel like an icicle.”

She swirled her thumbs across his cheeks to stimulate a little bit of color.

“Alright,” he stirred at her gentle touches. He only liked to drink from her on special occasions and dire circumstances. He hated how painful and fatigued it would make her afterwards. “But I want this,” he brushed her inner thigh with his fingers. “And I’m going to give you a massage first.”

“Deal,” she grinned and continued to undress. He took off his coat and boots, then joined her on the bed she now reclined on. She’d kept her short pants, chemise, and stockings on until the room warmed up a bit.

“You are like an unwrapped present now, with all those layers off,” he looked her over, leaning down to kiss her thigh, pulling her stocking down slightly.

“Well, hopefully you are satisfied with your gift,” she joked.

“Soon enough,” he purred.

Despite the cold, her skin was still wonderfully warm. He began to gently massage her muscles, tighter than usual due to their long ride. He had gotten adept with his hands, typically giving her massages after any of her more acrobatic performances or just as a caring gesture. He was happy to be able to dote on her as much as she did him.

“Mmmm that feels nice,” she let out a sigh, as he continued to knead her thighs.

“Do you want to stretch as well?” He asked, knowing her routine by now.

“Depends on how we’ll be spending the day?” She raised a seductive eyebrow at him.

He just chuckled, rotating her hip so he could gently press her leg back towards her. They spent most of their days off doing the same two things, reading and making love. He pressed her other leg back as well, as she slipped her feet behind her head. “Now you are just goading me,” He crawled forward, pressing a little of his weight on her to give her a deeper stretch and so he could kiss her. She let out a contented groan, opening her mouth to his tongue.

“It seems we’re both a little stiff this morning,” he smiled, rubbing his hardening cock against her.

“Gods, that was terrible,” she teased, pulling him closer, increasing the stretch of her hips even further. “You should’ve said I’ve been riding the wrong thing for too long.”

“Perhaps we should hire a carriage next time,” he moved his attentions to her neck, nuzzling her favorite spot and nipping her ear gently. There was a knock at the door, interrupting them.

“Food and hot water, miss,” someone called from the other side of the door.

“Don’t move a muscle,” he smiled, climbing off her and the bed. He readjusted his trousers to disguise his erection and opened the door just enough to take her porridge, telling the man he would attend to the buckets of hot water in a moment.

He set her porridge on the table, peeking over to see her continuing to stretch herself, and then went to retrieve the buckets. He poured the near boiling water into the large tub, adding in the room temperature buckets that had been left in the room for regular use. The water would be the perfect temperature for them in a moment. He returned to her, her legs back on the bed, yet still welcoming him. “Come have your bite, love, and then we can move things to the bath,” she beckoned. He obeyed, crawling between her legs, massaging and kissing her thigh a little more before gently sinking his teeth in. He savored every taste of her he allowed himself, closing his eyes so he could enjoy every drop that passed his tongue. He only drank what he needed for a day of vigorous lovemaking, the pre-bottled blood would be thawed for later. He licked and kissed her thigh when he was finished.

She sat up, mussing his hair a little and began to conjure a healing spell on the wound. “Thank you,” he smiled at her, the usual intoxication of her blood washing over him.

“Of course,” she grinned. “Now let’s get naked.”

She climbed out of bed, pulling her chemise over her head and setting it by the growing fire, which she added more wood to. She grabbed her porridge from the table and leaned against it, taking a few large bites and watching as he undressed. He made a show of it, teasing her with little peeks of flesh as he removed his own layers of clothing, until he was fully nude. She finished her final bite, licking the spoon sensually, before setting the bowl down and slipping her shortpants off. He waited at the tub for her, his cock wobbling for attention. She let her fingers caress it softly, eliciting a quiet moan from him. “After you,” she gave his balls a gentle squeeze, waiting for him to get in so she could straddle him.

He got in slowly, the water still a little too hot, but soothing to the coldness that had seeped into bones. He welcomed her into his lap, her body giving the tub extra volume to cover them. “Better?” She asked, cupping some of the hot water down his chest and neck and running her fingers down the wet skin, trying to warm him up.

“Much,” he grinned, letting his fingers caress her own skin. She slipped him slowly inside her, her own warmth cooler than the hot water, but much more pleasant. “Much, much better,” he moaned.

She laughed, kissing him, and beginning to ride him slowly, looking forward to enjoying a full day with him after so many on the road from Baldur’s Gate. He let his fingers explore her body, feeling for any lingering knots or tension, before fully surrendering himself to the rhythmic motion of her hips. “Gods, you feel so good,” he moaned, gripping her hips tightly.

“I know,” she joked, arching her back, so close to climax already. He knew just how to press her clit to make her come within moments. “You’re going to make me come twice, aren’t you?” She gripped the side of the tub, letting her orgasm rippling through her.

“I hope to get the total to at least ten before the day is through,” he smiled. “It is a holiday after all.”

“Is it?” she breathed heavily, climbing off of him and turning around so she could mount him again at a different angle.

“Mmmhmmm,” he helped guide himself back inside her.

Tav was rarely mindful of the time or her own schedule, something which he always had to assist with. He didn’t mind, as it made it easier to surprise her. She had managed to remember their anniversary last month, through a series of notes she’d left for herself. They had accidentally spoiled the surprise of his own atelier that she had acquired for him, but he still cried genuine tears when she’d presented it to him on the day. It was close enough to their cottage that he could slip over just before dawn and spend the day working with clients. He was finally able to make his own money again and feel less of a burden on her, no matter how much she insisted that he wasn’t.

“Which one is it?” She began naming random holidays and festivals occurring in Nightal, moving her hips along him with each wrong guess.

“Simril,” he finally grunted, pulling her hips back a little further.

“Oh?” She moaned, as he filled her completely, making her grip the edge of the tub again. “It’s the Solstice already? Gods, I’d forget my head without you,” she glanced back at him with a wry smile, pulsing her muscles around his cock.

“I know,” he teased, closing his eyes, feeling that much closer to climax himself.

She sped up her movements again, knowing the telltale quiver of his legs meant he was close. She writhed on him, her own legs beginning to quiver again as he reached for her clit. She leaned as far forward as she could, letting him take control of her hips for the pace he needed. They came together, their moans surely to cause complaints from the other guests. “Eight more to go,” she purred between heavy breaths, collapsed onto her arms that pressed on the edge of the tub.

“Come here,” he moved his legs further apart, so she could lay back against him and enjoy the remaining warmth of the bath. He wrapped his arms around her as she settled against him.

“Another year nearly gone,” she mused.

“It has flown by,” he let out a heavy sigh. “They used to crawl by so slowly before.”

She put her hands on top of his, stroking them reassuringly. “The arcanist sounded very confident in their letter,” she said. “If this scroll can do what she thinks it can, it will be worth the price.”

“You’re sure about this? It’s your entire life’s savings.”

“It’s our savings, love,” she squeezed his hand. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to help you be free of this. I need another sunset with you.”

“Thank you,” he hugged her tightly. “I’ll happily burn beside you if it comes to that.”

“I won’t let it,” she promised.

They stayed until the water grew cool, drying off, and then heading to bed for their trances. They made love again when they woke, spooning slowly, and bringing her total to five, his knowledge of her body making it quite easy to bring her to climax over and over.

They got dressed and went downstairs so Tav could have lunch and they could check to see if Gale had responded to the raven they’d sent when they arrived. They chose a table away from the windows and chatted about what to do for the night’s festivities. “Do you think Gale would let us build a bonfire on the top of his tower?” Tav wondered as she downed an entire bowl of stew. Between their lovemaking and Astarion’s tasting, she was ravenously hungry.

“I wasn’t planning to ask,” Astarion joked. “I’m sure he’s got plenty of old furniture we can toss on.”

“Speak of the wizard,” Tav saw Gale stride in.

She got up to greet him and lead him back to their table. Astarion watched as they hugged and she touched his face, now absent a beard. Despite he and Tav being married and throughly in love, he still couldn’t help but feel a little bit of jealousy seeing them together. She brought Gale back, grabbing an extra chair from an empty table. She moved her chair closer to Astarion, so Gale could squeeze in with them. “Between Tara, my mother, and Syma’s pestering, I finally decided to shave it,” Gale continued their conversation as he sat down. “Sorry I wasn’t able to come by sooner, I was wrapped up at the college for a bit.”

“It’s alright,” Astarion grinned sheepishly. “We had other things to do.” Tav kicked his foot gently.

“And how are you, Astarion?” Gale turned to him next.

“Unthawed from the cold and with my beloved. I couldn’t be better,” he answered, putting his hand on Tav’s thigh.

“I am pleased to hear it and of a possible cure for your affliction.”

“Have you ever heard of this arcanist, Magnabout of Luskan?” Tav asked.

“The name is not familiar to me,” Gale pondered. “But I could ask some of my colleagues.”

“We would appreciate it. If it turns out to be a false lead, we will still be on our way to Neverwinter to finally meet my parents.”

“That’s right, they weren’t at the wedding.”

“By my choice,” Tav sighed, a pang of anxiety wreaking her stomach just thinking about it. “But I don’t know when we’ll ever be this far north again and they might even pretend to care if they knew I’d been in the city and not visited.”

Gale saw how uncomfortable it made her to talk about and tried to change the subject. “My, was that stew you just ate? It smells wonderful. I didn’t get a chance to eat this morning.”

“I would take another bowl,” Tav pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to push the anxiety away.

“Two bowls of stew, coming up,” he left to see the innkeeper.

Astarion gently rubbed her leg, sensing her worry. “We don’t have to see them if you don’t want to,” he reassured her.

“I know, but I should. They aren’t exactly young anymore, and Gods knows with my father’s experiments. He could accidentally incinerate the whole house one day.”

“Let’s wait until we get to Neverwinter to decide for sure alright? Put it out of your mind for now.”

“Okay,” she put her hand on top of his and leaned in to kiss him. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he kissed her in return, leaning over slightly to kiss her deeper.

“Still in the honeymoon phase, I see,” Gale returned with two steaming bowls of stew, a slight blush to his cheeks.

“I don’t know if it will ever end,” Tav grinned at Astarion, caressing his face. “Speaking of, when are you and Syma going to get married?”

“You know me, trying to calculate the perfect moment to propose and how. We all know my grand gestures in the past have been disastrous, but I don’t just want to do it just anywhere.”

“Well, as long as you don’t spring it on her right before the most important opening night of her life, making her a blubbering mess, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Tav teased Astarion’s sudden proposal on the night Tale of the Tadpole premiered. She looked down at the amethyst ring he’d presented her with a smile. He pinched her on the thigh playfully. “Ouch,” she punched his shoulder softly in return.

Gale laughed, pleased to see they were both doing so well and still madly in love. He hoped the same for himself and Syma. Tara and his mother had come to welcome the tiefling into the family quickly, he just needed to make it official. “You are right, of course,” Gale swallowed a mouthful of stew. “Simple would be best. I’m just, well, you know me.”

“You’ll find the right time and place,” Tav smiled.

They continued to chat while they both finished eating. “Tonight’s festivities should be quite jovial,” Gale discussed. He was hosting his own stargazing party with a few of his colleagues and friends. “You are staying with me for a few days, yes?”

“Yes, I wanted to consult some of the libraries here about other possible avenues,” Tav replied, gently stroking Astarion’s thigh.

“I know all the best ones and can get you special access. I should be getting home, of course, to make sure everything is running smoothly for tonight,” Gale excused himself.

“We will see you at sundown,” Tav nodded. Gale bid them farewell and left the pair alone again.

“Well, darling, should we go upstairs and get a head start on number 6?” Astarion grinned at her. She grinned widely back at him, saying nothing, but taking his hand and leading him back upstairs to their room.

They drifted back to bed after adding more wood to the fire. They employed their mouths this time, making quick work of Tav’s sixth and seventh climaxes and his third. They dozed again, half dressed, and then read together in bed until it was time to get ready for Gale’s party. They changed into their nicer clothes, Tav putting on a lovely dress for the occasion and Astarion in a finely tailored overcoat and trousers of his own design. They bundled backed up in their cloaks and hired a carriage to drive them to Gale’s tower for the evening so Tav didn’t have to ride in her dress.

They waited at the doorway after Gale came down to welcome them in. “You have to invite me in nowadays,” Astarion sighed a little. He was at least glad Tav had begun to wait with him for his invitations now, instead of walking right in.

“Oh, right. Sorry about that. Please, I invite you in,” Gale blushed with embarrassment.

Most of the guests were already upstairs at the top of the tower, the bonfire yet to be lit, but other small braziers keeping the rooftop warm. They socialized together and Tav eagerly sampled the food and drinks. Gale had been kind enough to procure a ‘vintage red’ especially for Astarion, so he was able to sip from a chalice for most of the night.

Once the bonfire was lit, they gathered around it singing songs and lighting off loud fireworks. Tav and Astarion lingered near the edge of the crowd, Astarion taking the opportunity to pull up the back of her cloak and dress to furtively and quickly stimulate her eighth orgasm of the day. He whispered playfully in her ear that they were running out of time, though even if they’d had more time, he still loved teasing her in public. Her gentle cries were covered by the sounds of the party goers, her quivers disguised as a gentle dance to the music.

When it was time for stargazing and searching for their birth stars, they chose a more secluded area of the roof so they could have a little privacy as well. They spread out the blanket Gale had provided, lying on their backs and gazing up at the clear sky. They were both a little tipsy from the generous amounts of wine circulating and after a few minutes of discussing the stars, they found themselves entangled in their final tryst of the night.

They kissed each other messily, Astarion’s hand pushing up Tav’s dress once again. She was still slick from earlier, so he snuck a quick taste of her before unbuttoning his pants and climbing on top of her. Hidden by the darkness and their cloaks spread on top of them, he moved slowly in her, catching her soft moans in his lips. “Do you think we are the only ones doing this?” He breathed heavily in her ear.

“With all the wine flowing, I’m surprised no one has come over to join,” she laughed, pulling him closer.

“Mmmm,” he purred, tilting her hips up a little so he could press his weight around her clit. “I might let them fuck you for a bit, on your knees of course, so you could still have my cock in your mouth.”

“Oh really,” she moaned softly, ready for her ninth climax. “Would they fuck me hard or slow?”

“Very hard,” he grinned, thrusting against her harder, daring her to come. “They wouldn’t be able to resist that cunt of yours.”

They had tried to bring in a third on a few occasions in real life, but he still wasn’t comfortable enough for things to be satisfying for all of them, so it remained in their fantasies for the moment. Talking helped keep him present in the moment, avoiding his past disassociations and allowing him tto enjoy himself fully. They also liked to see who could turn the other on the most.

“Is it nice?” Tav quivered, on the precipice. “My cunt?”

“I can’t get enough of it. I thought about tying you to the bed earlier, when you were all wrapped up with your legs behind your head.”

“Yeah?” She gripped his back tightly, so very close.

“I’d leave you tied up there, all day, exposed, while I sat and read across the room. And I’d tease you, every hour or so, until you couldn’t stand it any longer.”

“Oh Gods,” she whimpered, trembling under him, trying her hardest to not scream his name as she came.

“Good girl,” he slowed down his pace to give her a little rest. “One more to go.” He kissed her deeply, shifting his weight to his other arm so he could brush a bit of her hair out of her face.

“What would you do if I was a bad girl?” She grinned, goading him to continue.

“Depends on what you did?” He grinned back.

“What if I summoned a Mage Hand while you weren’t looking and used it to touch myself?”

“You naughty thing,” he teased. “But you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. I’d find out right away.”

“I can be very quiet when I want to,” she whispered, conjuring the spell silently. He laughed, knowing that wasn’t usually true. Even at her quietest, she couldn’t help a little whimper or sharp breath escaping her throat. She carefully guided the hand under their cloaks and along his legs, gently gripping his ass with it.

“You little devil,” he smiled, spreading her legs wider with his own, knowing what she wanted to use the hand for. She gently teased the fingers of the hand along his asshole, waiting for just the right moment to ease one inside him. He let out a little moan, pressing more of his weight on her. “I’d make you watch as I used the hand to fuck my ass while I stroked my cock, right in front of you on the bed. Your cunt would get so wet, begging me to touch you.”

She grinned, lifting her knees up so he could penetrate her deeper. There was no way to hide what they were doing now if someone were to stumble upon them. She added another finger inside his ass, continuing to use the mage hand to stimulate him as he fucked her. He increased his pace again, ready for their final climaxes of the evening. “Please,” she softly begged. Their dirty talk had put her near the edge again.

“Please, what?” He gently demanded.

“Please cum in me, cum all over me,” she quivered, begging for him to finish in both scenarios.

“You’d make me, uh,” he groaned loudly, his climax coming on a little more suddenly with her added stimulation. They shuddered against one another, the last of their desires flowing out of them for the night. They heard others giggling and whistling in the distance, clearly catching wind to what someone was doing in the dark. They happily laughed themselves, untangling from their cloaks and curling up side by side.

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” she teased quietly, gently sucking on his ear. “What would you do with me after you came all over me? Leave me tied up again?”

“Hmmm,” he chortled and pulled her even closer. “I’d untie you and lick every last drop from your cunt until you screamed and then fall asleep face first.”

“Oh,” she squealed a little. She liked the idea of him teasing her all day in contrast to her ten separate climaxes today. “Maybe the day before we leave?”

“Did you bring our toy with you?”

“Of course,” she grinned.

“Perhaps if we can manage to get enough rest,” he smiled.

They looked back up at the stars, chatting about their journey so far and other things their minds moved to.

Another couple eventually wandered over, their smacking lips and soft giggles revealing that Tav and Astarion weren’t the only ones feeling amorous this evening. “Oh sorry,” the woman apologized. “We didn’t know anyone else was over here.”

“We were just heading back to the fire actually,” Tav gave Astarion a little grin, subtly helping him button his pants back up.

“Yes, feel free to take our spot. The view is quite nice,” he added.

They got up and wrapped their cloaks back around themselves, leaving the couple to their own fun, and returned to the large bonfire in the center of the roof. Gale and Syma were still there, cuddled up next to one another. “How are the skies?” Syma asked when Tav and Astarion stopped next to them.

“Transcendent,” Tav leaned against Astarion.

“It’s so nice to see you both again, isn’t it Gale?” Syma hugged the wizard tightly.

“It is indeed. Especially without the impending threat of doom,” Gale replied, nuzzling her closer.

“Well, Gale and I have an announcement,” Syma grinned widely.

“We’re getting married,” they both blurted out at the same time.

“How wonderful,” Tav grinned. “I’m sorry we missed the proposal.”

“Oh Gale did it in private, thank the Gods!” Syma beamed. “He called me to the kitchens for an ‘emergency’ and Tara sat there with the ring in her mouth. I was half expecting some huge fireworks show that would’ve overshadowed the entire evening.”

“That was in the works, darling, but they ran out of smoke powder trying to spell out ‘resplendent beauty,’” Gale teased her, though that has been on the list of his considerations.

“How sweet,” Tav nudged Astarion gently. “We’re both so happy for you, aren’t we?”

“Way to not blow it,” Astarion teased, clapping Gale on the shoulder.

“Astarion, I would be honored if you would make my dress,” Syma requested.

“The honor would be mine,” he nodded.

The two couples shared a toast and chatted for a while, before finally retreating to their beds for the night as the festivities winded down and a light snow began to fall. The guest room Gale had shown them to had another great view of the large city and was already warm and toasty from a well -maintained hearth. Tav stood at the window a moment to watch the snow fall among the glowing dots of other distant bonfires. Astarion came up behind her, gently massaging her shoulders for a moment before beginning to pull her hair down from the elaborate updo he’d helped her with. They were both happy and exhausted, crawling into bed beside one another when he’d finished. They shared one last long kiss before drifting into their meditations in each other’s arms.