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ladyoftheblades · 4 months ago

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her heart his duty

gwayne hightower x reader

synopsis: gwayne did not oft travel to court but a visit to his sister was long overdue and young daeron was to join him as a ward at oldtown soon enough. yet when he arrived he found more interest in a young silver haired girl, the kings very own daughter, his sisters stepdaughter.

warnings: smut, dry humping, masturbation, vouyerism, corruption kink, religious guilt, agegap relationship, intoxication, unrealistic fainting, step incest (?)(uncle step niece)

a/n: i had to tweak some things bc gwayne was a little (a lot) ooc originally, thus i gave him religious guilt. also ive been reading laughter in the dark so i think it influenced me. ENGLISH IN NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE i am also dyslexic.

three moons it took to travel from oldtown to kings landing. three months of ridiculus talks and gossips from his supposed to be profesional fellow knights, subpar meals at inns and dingy taverns and horseback rides from dawn to dusk, gwayne had had enough. the gates of the red keep resembled those of the heavens.

his thighs were raw and scaffed from the saddle, his back drenched from the summer heat. the reception to their arrival was at the very least nice. his sister stood on the courtyard, looking the vision of a queen, though they had not grown up together he loved her with his whole heart. he knew the hardships she faced at court were nothing compared to his. a small gaggle of silver haired children were situated around her, two boys on one side, aegon and aemond he mused on the other an absent minded girl and a small boy clutching her skirts, helaena and little daeron. he had once mission: spend some time with the young prince, train him, make him feel comfortable enough to leave home with him and get out.

he dismounted and stood infront of his family. "welcome brother" said his sister. he took her hand into hers and kissed it. "sister, how youve grown" she gave him a warm smile. "allow me to introduce you, this is aegon"

the boy looked bored and his bloodshot eyes as hell as the purple stain in his tunicsleeve told him he was intoxicated as well. aegon only gave a small nod. his mother gave him a scornfull look but said nothing. "next to him is aemond"

"welcome uncle" "it is good to meet you my prince"

"this is my daughter, helaena" continued alicent. the girl gave a curtsy, he gave her a warm smile, she was the spitting image of her mother at this age. "and finally, this is little daeron" the boy only clutched his mothers skirts harder, hiding his face partially behind the dress. gwayne crouched down to be at eye level with his nephew.

"hello, young prince" his hand went to his pocket and pulled out a small hankerchief. he pulled the hankerchief appart to reveal a small wooden dragon. "this, i brough for you especially. it was given to me by mine own uncle, now i pass it to you"

the boy eyes lit up with curiosity, the toy an enticing offer, coaxing him out of his little hiding place. his hands left the fabric and reached out to get the toy, examining it with his hands, a smile tugging at his mouth. "what do we say, daeron ?" said his mother. "thank you uncle gwayne"

gwayne smilled and rose to his feet. "trot along now, i shall see ypu this eve for training, do you enjoy archery, young prince ?" he added. daeron nodded, eyes still trained on his b rand new toy. "very good then, i shall see you soon" and with that the siblings each went their respective way.

gwayne took a moment to study the courtyard, knights walked left and right, some stewards attended to their horses, further back toward the gardens sat a few ladies sat gossiping. as he studied the area, a curious figure caught his eye. a young girl, silver haired and wearing traditional targaryen red, stood behind a wall, her body was somewhat hidden, but her head poked out in curiosity, revealing long silver locks, traditional to the house targaryen. he studied her form from bottom to top, reaching her face. cute, he thought, when he searched to look at her eyes, he found them looking back at him. but they did not stay that way long for the second she realised her curiosity was returned, they widened and she diapeared behind the wall at once.

"is something the matter, brother ?" his sister said, noting his prolonged silence. he returned to his sister "has a silver cat in the shape of a lady made home at the keep or is perhaps another daughter you have hidden from me ?"

his sister gave him another smile "no brother, i believe you saw my step-daughter" gwaynes face twisted into one of confusion. "the princess rhaenyra ?"

"no brother, the younger. she is not half bad, nothing like her sister anyway, she is quite shy especially with strangers. you may not see her at all in the time you spend here." his expression softened, still curious but now moreso.... intrigued.

"come, let me show you to your rooms, you must be exhausted" alicent continued, interlocking her arms begining to pave their way to the guest chambers. they reared the wall behind which the princess had disapeared, excpecting to see her eunning along to avoid him but she was nowhere to be found. how could one diapear so swiftly ?

his chambers were plain, nothing like the ones at oldtown, he was not spoiled but being son and heir to one of the wealthiest houses of the realm grew him accustomed to a certain standard of luxury. they were also exceptionally dull. his training session with daeron had a while to come yet, and thus he decited to visit the so famed library of the red keep. he walked the halls and arrived to the room, excpecting it to empty,most of the lords and ladies preocupied with the official hightower visit.

he oppened the heavy mahogany doors, stepping in cautiously. the room was as excpected, quiet and empty. almost. in front of him, to the other side of the room, sat a small sette near the fireplace. that was no unordinarity, the odd thing, was the oppen book gracing the table, the small blancet hastily disgarded to the side of the armchair and the haphazardly thrown around pillows. clear signs someone was occupying the space. he only knew of one person who would vanish at the sight of a stranger.

he looked around the room, taking note of any further evidence to suggest human activity. and there it was, a hankerchief to the right of the sette. his gaze scanned the shelves nearby the misplaced cloth, and surely, he could make out a form two bookcases back. he smirked to himself, he would coax the girl out whether she liked it or not.

he took a cautious step forth, silently traversing the room, he walked to the sette and picked up the dicarded hancerchief. the figure had not moved from its hiding place. he walked further, amongst the bookcases, pretending to browse the books. when he got close to the form, it began to run, he gave chase, swiftly turning the corner, now faced with the back of the young maiden. "princess"

she stopped, body clearly tense, hands in tight fists next to her body. tenatively she turned around. he could now marvel at her beauty. truly marvel at her features. her face was flushed, red from embarassment, contrasting yet complimenting her mesmerising violet eyes and silver valyrian hair. she was truly, stunning, surely the most comely maiden he had lay eyes upon. "sir gwayne hightower, i do believe" she said, voice coming out close to a whisper, the nerves behind it unmasked to his ears.

"in the flesh..." he continued, eyes studying her form like a predator seizing up pray. "i do believe, you dropped this" he said, raising the hankerchief up to eye level. her hand moved slowly, twitching with nerves and ever so cautiously, to take it, but he pulled his hand back, tucking the piece of fabric in his pocket instead. "wh-why did you um.. i mean, what should you want with a silly hankerchief, ser ?" he gave her a smile mischievy lacing his expression, darkening his blue eyes.

"such an elusive lady you are, and such an intriguing one at that. i cannot give up the one thing tying us together, i should not like to see you run from me... again" she gave a breathy chuckle, uneasiness evident in both the sound and the way her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. "please, i do not wish to interrupt your studying, allow me keep you company" he extended his hand to hers again, she looked to it in fear, yet accepted it anyway. he raised it to his face, eyes never leaving hers, full of lust, and kissed it. her eyes were wide, violet brought out her embarasment, ckeeks somehow even more flushed. he tugged her forth, and moved to take her back to the settee. they walked and sat across eachother in silence.

he looked to the princess, who nervously sat and fiddled with her book, her eyes trained to it, trained to anywhere but him really, as if seeing him would lead to her doom. "what are you studying, my princess ?" she swallowed hard. "umm well, it is no interesting thing not really atleast-"

"anything that holds your attention is a worthwile read i would venture" she sucked in a hurried breath, her expression changing from complete fear, to fear still but now with a mix of excitement.

"oh, it is- it is written by a braavosi traveler, an account of his relationship with the lysenian lady allara"

"a love story then ?" he said, mischeivus smile returning, eyes reflecting a glint from the sun making her chest flush with emotion. "well, yes, a tragedy ore like to be honest "

"how so ?" "well thy were um seperated, by circumstances, you know as it happens usually,they were of different social standing and she was kept away most her life and h-had no real connection with the world so believed his promises of adventure to be void, eventually they were discovered but all was well in the end, as well as it could atleast and-"

she stopped speaking suddently, realising how she had rambled and looked up, meeting gwaynes eyes, excpecting to find disgust or boredom or even fury but none of that were present. he only looked to her in admiration, in intigue. still shame ran hot in her veins, the emotion almost tied to her name, "oh i- apologise, ser, i have incoherently rambled on" she apologised.

"no apology secessary my princess, i find your passion... quite amusing." she swallowed hard at his words, unacustomed to such attention, any attention from a stranger. "do you find yourself in the lady ?" continued gwayne.

"oh, well, i guess i do" she spoke in a single breath. "have you any romantic endeavors with braavosi travellers, my princess ? is this your confession ?" he teased. her eyes widened once again, shifting her position and shaking her head rapidly. "oh no, ofcourse not, how could i even find one such man in this castle"

he gave a saccharine smile, eating away at the princesses defences simultaniously firing up her shame. "do you feel deprived of adventure, then, as the princess in the story did ?" his hand on the table moved, slowly reaching hers. she failed to notice it, too focused on keeping her breathing elevated and not bursting in flame from shame. when his skin brushed against her knuckle she twitched, pulling her hand away, but it was too late. his hand moved swiftly, taking her delicate hand into his calous one, he could not help but notice just how smaller it was, his palm covering it in its entirety.

the contact sent waves of nerves through her body, but something about his warm toutch, something about his smooth movements, the way he caressed her knuckles along with his questions, the interest he showed to her oppinion, it stirred something in her. not just her chest, in her stomach... lower. the feeling was nice but its unfamiliarity alarmed her.

it was true, much like the lady in her book she had minimal contact with the outside world. most she had was the occasional trip on her dragon to her cousin laena and uncle daemon in pentos or the ones to dragonstone with her sister rhaenyra. if she was lucky and the queen was in good spirits, she would allow her to acompany her to the sept, where she caught shoert glimpses st the vibrant city of kings landing. but, as stated before, all of those were quite rare. most of the time she had to content herself with overhearing stories from viting lords, ever too shy to even approach them and ask questions.

"i should say... yes. i do not have many opportunities to exit the walls of the keep." he gave a hum, never taking his eyes off of hers. "should you like to ?"

she was still aprehensive of the man before her, but his words were so sweet. her head was a battlefield, shyness and intrigue kicking up a storm. "i should, yet i fail to see how it would be possible"

"perhaps...with the right company" he teased yet again. shyness, even caution of strangers failed to prevail in the face of promise of adventure. "do you fancy yourself the right company, ser gwayne ?"

he smiled, now genuine and true, showing his pearly teeth. "mayhaps we ought to find out, if you would have me" the air around them shifted, falling into a comfortable silence. they stared into eachothers eyes, blue into violet, sparks threatening to blaze into fire.

alas, their time had to come to an end. gwayne broke eye contact, looking to the window, the hour of his duty was drawing closse. he looked back to the princess, whose gaze had shifted to the book again. "earlier, in the courtyart, upon my arrival, i caught you looking at me"

she oppened her mouth to speak but no words came out, instead her lips formed a little 'o' shape, small breaths escaping. very kissable, he thought. "have i exposed your secret ? is secretly staring at people from a distance a habit of yours or something you reserved just for me ?" she did not move, neither did her mouth, a stone statue, the only semblance of life in her was the blush on her nose. he chuckled, what an intiguing girl he had infront of him. "tis alright, do not tell me, i should like to keep mine own belief, even in delusion"

he slowly rose from his seat, not removing his hand from hers but instead draging it along her arm, slowly, teasingly. through her palm, to her wrist, her sleeve, a snake of temptation, slithering and dragging ints sin, seeping into her skin in its wake. she tensed once again, the shocks from the contact causing her to revert to her demure demeanor. he positioned himself behind her, hand from her shoulder opting instead to play with her hair.

the way the silver of her locks caught the light of the afternoon sun left him mesmerised, the way her shoulders tensed and hunched forward, hurried trembling breaths audible to his ears even moreso. he leaned down, tucking her hair behind her ear and brought his lips to whisper "i shall see you soon, my princess. untill then, i have your little gift to keep me company"

his hot breath on her flesh sent shockwaves to her core, the promise of a randevouz exciting her so. what was this stranger doing to her ? she could not sit and enjoy the feeling of his body close to hers for long though, as he abruptly pulled back. leving the room, leaving her dumbfounded, sitting and staring still hot in her stomach.

training with daeron proved more enjoyable than he had excpected. the boy was witty once he had shaken off his fear, gwayne found himself growing fonder of the boy by the minute. when he was pulled away by his mother to be put to bed, he descited to acompany them, telling himself it was to make his mission succeed, but deep down he knew he wished to spend some more time with his nephew. before he was put to bed for the night, the little prince gave him a big hug which warmed his heart.

time with his nephew was a welcome distraction but the moment the boys chamberdoors closed his mind flew elsewere. the night drew close, soon twilight would be succeded by the dark of night, with it, the fould city of kings landing would come alive in all its debauchery. he wondered if he could approach the princess, if he could help her get a taste of adventure she so desired. the more he thought of her wide eyes the more antsy he grew to see them again. she was all innocence, asking of him to whisk her away, to show her the truth of the world, to corrupt her. he loved and hated it. those were no thoughts of a knight nor of a hightower.

he was a good man, faithfull, devout, the image of chivalry, his name a shining example to every knight in all the reach. many a lady had tried to tempt him, young girls no doubt urged by their ambitious fathers to join the house hightower, others rebelling against the chains of their duty, but he had alwasy shot them down, he knew better. he had had his fair share of indulgences as well, brothels were a booming buisness, even in oldtown after all. but he had the reigns of his desire, never going over board, always in mind of his faith. but this girl... this girl was something. she was young, innocent and the way he had treated her, like a plaything, teasing her in the library, it surprised even himself. he thought back t the words whispered by the lords of the reach, targaryens are closer to gods than men, and found them to ring true. his actions today were not in line with his faith, it made his stomach twist in shame, but he knew, he knew, if the princess asked, he would worship at the altar of her beauty, the seven be damned.

he thought if only he could see her again, if only. the way she had spoken about her books, with such passion, such longing, he wished for nothing but to take her in his arms and show her the world. alas he had no way to approach her. the young maiden was kept under lock-and-key, if the king or worse the princess rhaenyra were to learn of an attempt to tempt her it would surely mean his beheading.

he walked along the halls of maegors holdfast, fully intending to simply get back to his rooms, satisfy his craving for the princess in private and try to approach her again, like a gentleman, in light of the new day. but as he walked, he passed a certain family members chambers, his eldest nephew aegons. he knew some of the princes endeavours, the queens letters oft complaining of her inability to exscersise control over the boy. from oldtown, he though his sister might be reacting dramatically to a simple exertion of youth, this mornings meeting whith aegon told him his sisters words spoke the truth.

gwayne truly meant not to encourage such foul behaviour but... if anyone knew how to slip through the walls of the keep unoticed, it had to be the prince.

a knock sounded at the princesses chambers. given she had had no time to even remove her day clothes, she thought it to be her maids, arriving to prepare her for bed "come in"

the door opened, yet the face of the servant who stepped inside was unfamiliar to her. in his hands he held a silver tray, atop it a pece of paper along with a gray woolen fabric. the servaint said nothing, simply bringing the tray to her, and exiting with a bow.

curiosity killed the cat, she knew it well, the words of gwayne about her peering at him only this morning passing through her mind for a moment. but she was a curious alright, this occurance stirred up that emotion more than anything in her dull life had before. she took the letter upon her hands and oppened it.

to my silver haired cat, if the words you spoke to me ring true, take the path inscribed below at the hour of the eel, not a moment earlier not a moment later. make sure to wear my gift, it is not much but will prove usefull on our adventure. if not, i shall hold onto your hankerchief untill you change your mind. - ser gwayne

she began to kich her feet back and forth, mouth curling into a smile. he was asking a lot of her,sneaking out of the keep and he was, after all, a stranger. he was a man with no obligation to keep her safe, a man she knew naught about, except for the fact he found her intriguing. he found her interesting, he enjoyed her passion for adventure and was holding in his hand all she dreamed of, promising to grant it to her if only she should trust him. he would wait for her, today, tomorrow, so long as it took for her to be ready. how could she not answer his call ?

she swallowed down her nerves, doing her best to not let them trump her need for adventure. she took the cloak in her hands, it was large, large enough to hide her form and silver hair. the hour of the eel drew close, she had to make a descision. she looked to the paper again, a map was inscribled below gwaynes words. it was simple enough to follow, the opportunity was far too precious and too rare to pass up.

this morning she was a shy maiden, apprehensive and petrified at any sight of a stranger, closed off from the world. now, as she placed the cloak atop her shoulders, she remained a terrified maiden but who descited bravely, to open her heart to and interesting man, and seize the opportunity to realise her dream.

the air was cold as it hit gwaynes face, he was waiting at the back exit of the castle, a small arched door, hidden behind foliage and trees, known to lucky few. aegon had given him perfect instructions and a promise of mutual silence to eachothers endeavors. many of maegors passageways lead to the door, luckyly one such had acces to the princesses balcony, a stroke of luck or perhaps, a blessing from the gods.

he awaited the princesses arrival, the distance had lead him to grow impatient. he kept her hankerchief in his hand, playing around with the fabric, tracing her excellently embroidered monogram, hoping, wishing the anxiety in his guts, the guilt of his actions would be smoother over by her. despite the words of the letter, he knew, he would wait for her untill the hour of the wolf if that was what it took. he would wait for her as long as it took.

procuring commoner clothes for both himself and the princess was as humiliating as it was difficult. his skin protested the cheap fabric and his senses the design but it would do for now. he could not simply parade around flea botttom clad in armour after all.

he stood in wait and the more he waited the more anxious he grew. no, no he was not anxious, it was something else, something sinister. he was hungry. he was hungry to see the young princess, to show her what the real world entailed. gods, he could not wait to see her violet eyes fill with graditude upon him fullfiling her desires. it almost made him grow hard in his pants.

as he looked to the moon, mind wondering, he heard someone approach from behind. he turned his head around to be met with the sight he so longed to see. the princess emerged from behind the greenery, his gift draped around her shoulders, but the hood was down, leaving her locks, now in a simpler braided fashion, to catch the moonlight, giving their pretty color an even more exotic appearance. despite the poor appearance of the cloak drawing a sharp contrast to her well groomed royal face and hair, her beauty remained unchanged.

his eyes draged up and down her body, drinking in her appearance, his thoughts of longing turning now more primal. she shifted in her feet, ever so shy, ever so cute. "you came"

"you asked" she replied, eyes on the ground, feet kicking the grovel beneath her soles. "i am glad you did" he continued, taking a step to her, drinking in her ethereal appearance like a man starved. "even commoner clothes cannot stain your beauty, my princess" his hands made their way upward, taking the hood and raising it atop her crown, hiding her silver locks, much to his disapointment. her head remained low, eyes hiding from his. he took her chin with his fingers, and raise it to look her in the eyes. she was trembling like a leaf, despite her fear, her gaze remained firmly onto his, she wanted to trust him, it was her nature which kept her from doing so. he would give his soul to break down her inhibitions.

"do not take the hood off, ever. we do not want reports of a princess sighting in the city to reach the keep now, do we ?" he whispered. she gave a small shake of her head, untrusting of her voice, afraid it would betray her fear. "good" he chuckled, grabing her hand and turning around, guiding her to follow him.

"adventure awaits" if he had turned around he would see the smile atop her lips.

the arched door opened to reveal a grovel path, around the outer walls of the keep. on one side the imposing castle walls kept her trapped outside, on the other rough rock cliffs lead to wild waves below. talk about being between a rock and a hard place. the prospect of her eminent death by drowning petrified her, fear lacing her feet, draging her back, firmly rooting in the ground almost forcing her to yield and freeze in place. but gwaynes reassuring hold on her hand did not let her fall. neither to the pits of fear or to her doom. he took cautious but determined steps, her own feet automatically copying them, quickly leading her around the scary path and onto a road in the outskirts of the city. an real road, paved with more than gravel, set with actual stone. a heavy breath escaped her nose, fear melting now into the steady ground bellow, releasing her from its shackles.

gwayne looked back at her and brought his hand forward, draging her along with it. he recognised the relief painted on her features, glad to see her calmed down. "that was the most difficult part, it is much smoother sailing from now on. come, we have much to see."

he walked with her along the streets, the closer they got to rhaenys hill, the busier the streets got. she marveled at all the sorts of different people in a messy harmony. merchants and bakers and men of all trades walked along the paths, some of them held in their hands leftover product from the day, selling it now at a downmark. other men were dressed in rich clothes, graced with gold and silver jewlery with women of the night flocking around them, figures doused in shadows stalking further back, no doubt awaiting a chance to strike and rob them.

occasionally she could spot gold cloaks on their patrols, but gwayne ensured she was not spotted by any of them. his hand never once left hers. his eyes caught glipses of her face, hidden by the hood, the amazement in her eyes swelled his heart with pride and pants with heat. they walked in silence, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the city. by now they were well on their way to the street of the sister.

in front of him, he spotted a baker, selling several pastries and breads at half price. he approached the man, dragging the young princess with him. she was far too preoccupied staring, gawking moreso, at a band of young men engaged in some sort of game, running up and down the street.

he removed his hand from hers to reach his coin purse. the loss of contact broke her trance, with no warning, she was brought back to reality. to the scary reality. she had lost in a split second her pillar of support, now extremely aware of the world around her. dogs were heard barking viciously in the distance, heavy yelling voices once drowned in the melody of the city now came to the forefront scaring her to her core. the young mens game she had admired a moment past was not but a scary unpredictability, their sudden movements threatening in her head to harm her, gwayne quickly paid the man in exchange of some tart but when he turned around to look at the princess, he realised his mistake.

she looked to him petrified, chest heaving with heavy breaths, hand frozen in place where he had left it, the other on her chest, attempting to regulate her braths. his hand flew to hold her, instead of taking her hand, he took her waist, pressing her body onto his in reasuurance. eyes searched her face, needing to take caution of any change in demeanor. "hey, hey darling, nothing happened, nothing will happen. tis alright i got you"

her breaths still came to her in heavy inhales. the urge to vomit started building up in the bottom of her stomach, vision drawing hazy. gwaynes toutch on her waist was a source of comfort. the support from her knight returned, now in a new form, he was toutching her suggestively, in public no less but without shame, she had half a mind to quit her fainting of fear and swoon from the contact. yet his toutch was anything but unwelcome, anything but a scandal, it was of true chivalry, the hand on her waist along with his sweet words pulling her from the fit of agoraphobia that overtook her.

slowly but surely she regained her composure, focusing on gwayne and gwayne alone instead of the heaps of people circling them. her breaths calmed, coming in rythm of his composed ones. her eyes evidently relaxed, her hyper focused gaze yielding to a relaxed one, searching around his clothing. he smiled "there she is. you scared me half to death my dear" he looked around, searching for a safe place to take her, help her regain her strength.

it just so happened the closest to them establishment, was one of the most famed brothels of the street of silk. oh well, what can you do, he thought. "can you walk, my dear ?" he spoke in a whisper. she gave him a weak nod, and attempted to free herself, to walk independently of his support but failed, slightly stumbling backwards, straight into his arms.

"here, eat this, gain some strength" she pursed her mouth in a tight line and shook her head no. he sighed, the princesses silly attempt a testament to her naivety. "yes, come on, it is for your own good. and do not attempt to stray from me. you are a princess and in need of my aid my dear, it is no shameful thing"

finally she complied, puting it away in one go, some color returning to her face. gwayne sighed once again, this time in relief, his grip on her waist became posssesive for a moment, caging her in, and then, with no warning, he placed a kiss atop her forehead. "come, let us get you comfortable"

she had no time to process such an intimate action as she was taken, gently, along the road, tracing a path to a large purple door. she took note of the dim lanterns encased in shades of pinks and purples, along with the decorum above the door and attempted to deduce what the building was for, a sort of arthouse, a gallery ? it was clearly a sensual place, perhaps a patron of the arts from the free cities, much like the ones who visited the palace, took it up as a project.

gwayne knocked on the door, a woman oppened, clad in a sheer pink fabric, sintched at the waist and embelished with a beaded belt. she could see.... everything, the cut of the dress left little to the imagination, the fabric revealing the rest.

the princess attempted to take a step back, blocked by her protectors hand on her waist. this was not a place of the arts... it was a brothel. her breath hitched at her throat, chest filling with shame. she knew little of how the marital act was done, only aware of bits and piesces accidentally sliped out from rhaenyra. she had attempted to get her hands on books which included details of such an act, only to find out the queen had banned all such books from being kept at the keep. to say she was curious was an understatement. yet despite her need for answers, she did not fancy herself capable of handling such an adventure today. alas she had no other option.

the woman seized up gwayne, clearly noting his pouch heavy with coin, smirking when she took note of his handsome face. then... her gaze fell on her. the whores expression soured, with something the princess could not quite understand. white hot shame overtook her body, one free hand flying to her cloak, puuling down the hood to conceal her face. she had hoped the rest of the workers looks did not leave her so ashamed should they step inside.

the woman did not speak, she only looked to gwaynes eyes again, and stepped inside, urging them in. gwaye gave her a slight nudge, ushering her inside all the same.

immedietly upon entring she was hit with the smell of sweat and exotic spice. another woman, older in age than the one at the entrance and clad in more apropriate clothing, approached gwayne, exchanging words she paid no mind to. women and men lounged all around, in various states of undress, in various poses and on differing furniture. there were women with flagons of wine, filling, overfilling every cup with ruby wine.

gwayne pulled her forward, following the older woman, deeper inside the establishment. the further they venture the more debauched and lewd the acts became. she caught glimpses of it, women lying on to of men, repeating a furious up and down motion, some women were on all fours patrons of the establishment positioned behind them. in one room she even caught a glimpse of two women kissing for the viewing pleasure of a man.

the sights left her speechless, shame spreading through her limbs like an explosion but it also sent a wave of uneasiness between her legs. she attempted to drink in the details of the scenes infront of her, but was unable as gwayne dragged her huriedly along. soon they reached yet another door. gwayne handed some coins to the woman, who smiled slyly and disappeared behind a myrish screen. gwayne oppened the door and all but threw her inside.

she stumbled across the stone floors as he closed the door behind them, the room was... something. nice was no word to describe it, far below the standard she had known. the floor was of pure stone, with soft fur carpeting under the bed and bear the hearth, she did not need to wonder what that was for. in the middle of the room stood a large bed, adorned with an assortment of fabrics and furs and pillows. behind it, on the wall hung a tapestry. she began to study it, the scene quite the scandal, two women with bodies intertwined and kissing, another fantasy of the patrons it must be.

gwayne took note of the silence and her wondering eyes, a smirk growing on his face. "not up to standard ?"

"no... i guess, i dont- wh-why did.... why did you bring me here ?"

his smile persevered, stepping closer to her. "oh, do not be scandalised my darling, i only wanted you to be in... a safe enviroment. here we can be away from prying eyes, and the noise of the people, a while, atleast. i believed you to need it"

"well, i-i guess, i- it was awfully crowded wasnt it ?" he exhaled through his nose, his hand flying to place a strand of hair behind her ear. her eyes trembled, focusing on anything, any other thing but his face. "it was, sweet girl" he moved his hands, undoing the pin that held her cloak together. the fabric falling from her shoulders, he took it in his arms and threw it to the side. he could now admire her gown in its entirety.

it was blue in color, deep like the sea, with the symbol of her house embroidered in black thread on her bodice. the cut of the dress was of much interest to him, it was embelished in intricate white lace and in the shape of a 'v' dipping bellow her colarbone, exposing her breasts. her neck was bare of any jewlery, having ommited it in preparation of the trip in the city. her hair was held back, in a braided crown but some strands still fell loose around her shoulders and colarbone. her hair were his favourite feature of hers, their color their silky feel when he ran he hands through them.. he could only imagine what it was like to tug on them.

but he could wait for that. he pulled his hand away and sat at the pillows sprawled around the hearth, placing her cloak to the side, focusing his motions instead to invite the princess to sit next to him. she took the invite, slowly plopping herself, not next to him but across. ouch, he had thought she was more comfortable with him by now, no matter, he simply had to try more. she placed her knees in frot of her and hugged them in a protective matter, her head placed atop.

" are you feeling better ?" he said, readjusting his possition to lie down further. "yes much better, uh thank you ser" "please, we are far past pleasantries my dear. i whisked you away from home and all but carried you in my arms, call me by my name"

"okay, gwayne... ser." gwayne began to laugh, hand over his heart, eyes closing from the wideness of his smile. his whole body rattled with laughter, it was the most genuine the princess had seen him. heat rose up to her cheeks from her mistake, head falling to hide her face betwix her knees. gwayne, among his fit, took notice of the princesses new position, his heart swelling with warmth at the girls shame. what good does shame do to a goddess on earth ?

"oh, my darling, do not fret, i find your attitude... endearing. you will come around to me, eventually i know it." her eyes peeked out from her knees, shining with the firelight, brows raised as if begging for his words to be true. before he could speak to ressure her, a knock sounded at the door. her brows twisted, sending gwayne a quizical look.

"enter" he shouted. and thus the door oppened, a worker stepped inside, carrying in her hands a tray of two cups and a flagon. she was dressed qeerly, moreso than the girl at the door, a dress held at her hips by a metal belt, the top of it all but fallen off, exposing the entirety of her chest deep down into her navel dark skin glistening in the light, around her waist a series of strung together beads. her hair was loose, fashioned in tiny braids, much unlike her own, and cascading down her back, jet black in color, almost that of the night sky. she was truly beautifull, she thought.

her eyes were full of curiosity and completely trained on the woman. she walked inside the rooms to where they were seated, placing the tray between them. her movements were deliberate, sensual in nature, practiced. she made an effort as she lowered herself, to show off her breasts to gwayne. he smiled at the woman briefly but his eyes did not waver with her little show off. the woman, finally, turned to look at the priness, noticing her amazed, innocent gaze and sent her a wink. the princess went red at the face, hiding once again.

gwayne chuckled for yet another time, this was the most entertainment he had had in a while. he took the flagon and poured them both a cup. "you do know... drinking from such a position will prove difficult, though i would be lying if i said i was not curious to see it..."

she chuckled lightly, the sound rattling her shoulders, and let her legs fall down. they fell in front of her, outstretched, her back still somewhat hunched, hands playing with the carpeting. she looked like a doll, ready to be takena and played with, gwayne thought. he had to stop he knew it well, a princess of the realm was no doll, no thing for him to gaze upon so lustfully, but he could not help himself. "y-yeah i quess" she lifted her head and gave him a small glance, smiling as she did so, and took her respective cup. she sipped at the wine cautiously, small little gulps going down her throat.

yet another movement of hers he found utterly endearing. he took his own cup downing half of it in one go "go ahead, drink, it will do you good" he urged. she heeded his instruction, finishing her entire cup in one go. unused to drinking, especially at such a fast pace and on an empty stoamach, she began to feel the wine hit her head with a small wave, it was strong, nothing like that of the palace. gwayne laughed and poured her another cup. "well, you seem to surprise me at every turn, like a cat. a very tempestious cat"

"i- im sorry" "why now are you apologising sweet girl ?" she gave him a smile, looking to his eyes now, nerves steeled by the alcohol. she took her cup again and began to drink. slowly this time. "well i, i- dont know... maybe i did something wrong or.. or you, you feel i am odd or you know-"

"i find your oddness fascinating, if it please" she gave him a full smile, teeth showing and all. they remained that way a while, their silence leaving the room barren, penetrable by the outside sounds. all sorts of moans and grunts, in all levels of theatrics. they sat and listened a while untill a chortle ran through the princesses body at a particularly high pitched sound. she looked to gwayne with wide eyes, afraid she had done a wrong thing again. but gwayne did not seem repulsed by her in the slightest only replying with a chuckle of his own. soon, the room errupted into laughter, a melody of joy, strange innocence filling the room created to facilitate debauchery.

among their laughs, the princess afflicted clearly by the wine managed to chocke out "wh- what could posses one to create such a sound ?"

gwayne among his own laughter, took pause, still smiling but now his eyes shined with something else, something dark. even the pure crystal of their color could not absolve them of such sinister look. gwayne felt his insides stir with lust, he was leading the princess down a road he knew he should not. he had taken her from her home, showed her the crazed streets of the city, caused her to almost faint and now had lead her into the last place she ought to be in.

but then again, she was no child, she was a young woman, she would have to learn of these things soon... all he was doing really was teatching her, yes, that was it. he did no wrong, he had not toutched her, not forced upon her anything, he was simply exposing her to a different world, he was fulfilling her dream, he was no bad influence, he was a teatcher he rationalized. "well, they are paid to act as if they enjoy it..."

she chocked on her drink, some of it dripping down her chin, even to her colarbone and chest. gwayne looked at the sight, and if she had been able to look at him, she would note of the lust gracing his features. she attempted to clean herself, but only managing to soil her sleeve. understanding the uneasiness of the moment between them she felt needed to do something to remedy it "w-well, i would not know"

she looked down to the floor, body frozen, afraid of what gwaynes response would be. it was, after all, improper conversation. "i did not expect you to, my dear. the ladies of the realm are left with no education on such matters, left to believe the act to be but the prerequisite of creating offspring"

she raised her head, alcohol coursing through her veins washing away the bashfullness of her personality, "but it can be good, no ?" it was gwaynes turn to be shocked, to chocke over his own spit. he cleared his throat and swallowed hard, as if that would aleviate the guilt he felt. he was corrupting her... the evidence began to show, this new side of the princess something most definetly brought about by his and their adventures. but then again, she had a right to know. she had a right to know what the marrital act entailed, she would be married soon enough. he could feel the image of the mother chastising him, his faith a forever alarm in the back of his head, an unnerving lighthouse in the sea of his mind.

but the light grew dimmer and dimmer, replaced by the rose colored visage of the princess, her violet eyes looking to his for answers, her knight, her companion, her teatcher. how could he dissapoint. "well... yes, ofcourse it can. there are many aspects to carnal pleasure, many of the in servitude to women, though they are neglected in the royal beds. women can draw as much pleasure as the man"

his hand went to her extended leg, brushing his thumb along her ankle. what washe doing ? he should get out of there, take her in his arms and take her where nothing could taint her. his heart wished to protect her virtue, but a larger part, a truer part perhaps, longed to be the one to soil her so. "i should like to know" she spoke. gwaynes hand on her ankle tensed, squeezing her extremity slightly. there was no place for the seven in a place like this, this was a house of sin. but knoledge, is ever present, even in the darkest of acts, even in war and death there is something to be learned. this was but another part of life she ought to lear, he justified to himself.

he sent her a look, another squeeze to her ankle, a quizical one this time, asking "are you sure ?". she nodded.

gwayne had half a mind to take her in his arms and show her firsthand all she needed to learn. but he held back, raising himself to stand instead. he extended his hand in front of her face, asking her to take it, though he knew already she would. she looked up at him, innocent eyes through lashes, if only she knew the effect she had on him, and accepted the invitation. he pulled her from her position, a laugh escaping her, only to bring her flush against his front and urge her forth.

they exited the room and began to wonder the hallways, hands entwined, giggling. they must have looked like children frolicking through fields, a vision opposite to their enviroment. sounds of coupling echoed through the walls of the establishment, they passed through several doors and rooms, gwayne looking briefly inside of every single one, browsing. eventually they stopped, having reached a certain chamber, quite unlike the rest. the door was wise open leaving the inside available to spectators, they were much richer in furnishings than the chambers they had resided in, clearly, the client was of exceptional wealth.

"here, take a look" whispered gwayne, bringing her forward to look at the couple, pressing himself to her back all the same.

the scene was... debauching, bewitching, scandalising. in the middle of the room lay a circular bed, on top of it a couple, a man surprisingly young for a client here, and a woman equally as beautifull. the man sat in the middle of it, she on top of him. her hips moved in sensual motions, practiced by the years of her work, each movement of hers must have worked wonders for they elicited loud moans and grunts from the man, the melodious sound mixing with mewls of her own and the sounds of their hips.

the princess was enamoured by the sight infront of her. she felt an ache to her stomach, throbing in her insides, unfamiliar feeling with an unknown solution. she was mesmerised both by her bodys reaction and the scene in front of her, so much so she failed to take notice of gwayne behind her, pulling her in his embrace like a serpent, slithering hands around her waist, head going to whisper in her ear. "enjoying the lesson ?"

feeling his breath, his sweet words in her ear, it startled her, body working on its own, attempting to escape the knights trap. but his hold on her did not relent, his arms working on their own, trapping her further in his hold. "are you uncomfortable ? or simply shy ?". his hand on her stomach began to move, feathelight, back and forth, up and down, sending shocks of pleasure through her body.

"you see my dear, it is not so bad... it is not bad at all. everything is part of human nature, so is this even if the gods deem it private. you neednt feel uncomfortable.." his hand moved further up, possesed, on its own accord, before either of them could realis ewhat they were doing, she felt his hand onto her breast. the tension in her body could take no longer, mouth releasing a loud yelp. the sound came quite louder than she had excpected, grabbing the attention of some of the ladies and patrons near them. immedietly, whispers could be heard, even above the lustfull sound of the brothel, "is that a princess ?" one such whisper reached the ears of gwayne. immedietly he pulled the girl along, before she had time to question him.they began running through the brothel, back to their room.

once again gwayne threw her inside with haste, this time, the ferocity with which his movements guded her, lead the princess to loose her footing and almost land bottom-first onto the floor. almost. she felt strong hands around her waist. once again, gwayne her knight had come to her rescue, the gesture filled her heart to the brim with affection. as his clear blue eyes gazed upon hers with concern, she looked to their vastness, the world stopping for a moment, for that moment, gwayne was her everything and she was his.

it was no time for such emotions however, they both knew, carefull adn a bit akward, she gained her footing, gwaynes hands leaving her, his own body moving to grab her previously discarded cloak from the floor. he took it and placed it on her shoulders, the motion so tender it was more reminiscent of a wedding ceremony.

she would be the death of him gwayne thought, no god could wash away the sins he had commited to her virtue that night, despite it all he knew he would not repent, she would be the death of him, he thought. she his death and his own desire his damnation. "we must make haste if we wish to go unnoticed" gwayne spoke in concern but only playfulness comuted to the young girls mind.

he took her arm, carefull this time to be gentle, and began to once again navigate her through the brothel. whores and patrons alike noticed the swiftness with which they exited but, far too preocupied with catching a glimpse of the targaryen princess in their midsts, paid no mind. they exited the brothel onto the streets once again. gwayne paved a path for them, different from the last one. this time they took the narrow strainous path of the hook.

the princess grew tired of the fast pace but time left little window for rest. noticing her reluctance, gwayne wasted no time, taking her in his arms, like abride on her way to the bedding ceremony, to carry the rest of the way.

there, in the arms of gwayne hightower, she felt a strange peace. she gazed upon the streets of the city, aware it might well be the vary last time she could so freely traverse them. yet, she found herself unable to focus on the experience, the arms around her so sturdy, a worthy distraction. the audible heartbeat of her knight only the crowning jewel of the experience.

eventually, they reached the tall walls surrounding the red keep, at a blindspot to the guard. much to her dismay, gwayne put her down, holding her waist untill she stabilised.

"there is another hidden door here, leading to the kitchens. it is a forgotten servants passage. i believe you can take yourself to your rooms from there ?" she nodded. "good. i shall take a different path, lower the risk of being noticed, nothing to concern yourself with"

she was not ready for their time together to be ended. she longed to spend more time with gwayne, his name to her synonymous with fun. his eyes looked down to hers, locked in time, both of them unknowing what the correct words to say were. the longer he stared at her the more her body filled with heat, the blue of his eyes, the various memories of his hands on her filling her core with that same sensation the show at the brothel brought about. only this time... it was far more intesnse.

she opened her mouth to speak only to be cut off, not by words of his own, but his movement, hand flying to her face, sowly dropping the hood of her cloak so he may marvel at the moonlight in her hair one last time. confident now, his hand found purchase on her ckeeck.

if she was not hot from the strange feeling in her core, his toutch would surely burn her. "my stay at the city will not be long... i only hope to have fulfilled your hearts desire. i know you have gifted me with a night i will tresure forever. are you satisfyed, my darling ?" his thumb dug slightly into her cheek to emphasise his words. she nodded. "use your words my darling, do not withhold your beautifull voice from me"

"yes" she said, voice dripping with desperation. he smiled and removed his hand from her cheek. the loss of heat threatened to send a frown to her face. but she had to brave, for gwayne. instead, his hand reached into his pocket, pulling out nothing else but her hankerchief. "i do believe this is yours"

she looked to the piece of fabric, and considered for a second. "keep it" she said. gwaynes eyebrows shot up in surpruse, his mouth a playfull smile. "i shall treasure it for the rest of my days, my princess"

she felt a strange pull to gwayne, something in her mind, no, not her mind, this was no logical or sensical thought, the heart surely had juristiction over it, or rather, the feeling in her stomach, it told her to kiss him. to give herself to him fully, to repeat the things she had learned in the brothel.

before her body could give in though, footsteps were heard, no wonder the keeps guard. gwayne said nothing, only hurrying her inside the hidden brick door and diapearing. she stood there, in the dark of the basement and stared at the closed door. even when outside the footsteps came to pass, she made no movement. there were things unsaid, things yet to be done between her and gwaye. but they had to remain uncovered, she knew, in her mind the same as her heart.

gwayne tried to sleep. gods he so wanted to sleep. maybe in the unknown land of darkness he would find the one who he so longed to see, maybe then he would be able to do the things he wanted, to say what he thought, bare of shame and guilt. he reached to his 'commoner' pants, the ones he wore on their excursion, shuffling around the fabric, to pull out what he wanted. the princesses hancerchief, the one she had so graciously gifted him. it still held some of her scent.

it was to be a long night and the painfull erection in his undergarments tastament to just that. if he was to get through it he needed a distraction...

the morning light filtered through his window, disturbing his sleep which had not come easy, orgasming into the night untill he knocked himself out from exhaustion. he could still feel the soreness in his legs. one day at kings landing and already he had turned to a sinner. but it was not kings landing at fault, it was the princess.

he slowly rose, placing feet on cold hard ground. the itinary of today dictated breaking fast with his sister and her family, attending to some buisness at court his father insisted upon, training with daeron yet again and in the afternoon, more politics with his father and the king. no time was allocated to himself, no time to maybe try and seek out the princess. there was a small chance of her presance at either the breakfast, or sneaking around in the yard, the sole thing keeping him motivated.

and yet he went on and on with his day with no appearance from her. no lithe form sneaking around walls and bushes to catch a glimpse of, no presance at breaking fast, nothing. he settled back into his rooms defeated. he had gone thought the motions of his nightly routine as if possesed. and when he finally settled into his bed, he felt a pang of rejection. he sat and shimered in the feeling, second guessing his actions of the night before, replaying all the things he could have done differently. when-

his door sounded open and closed, the creaking of the wood at the hinges unmistakable to be anything else. he got up suddently, affraid of there being some threat to his person he had to face. he turned his head around, excpecting the worst, only to see the face he had been excpecting all day.

the princess stood there, clad in only a white nightgown, hair loose and tussling though her shoulders all the way down her back, in her hands a small candle, casting shadows on her face rendering her excpression unreadable.

gwayne knew not whst to say, the gods delivered to him the gratest gift of all. she was here, with him, out of her own volition, he almost could not handle it. he had to take this in stride, one wrong move could send her bolting. and thus he sat there, ever still, trying to hold back his urge to lunge at her and the annoying presence between his legs.

even whith the minimal light, he could see the way her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. "i-" she began, the rest of the words melting from her tongue. gwayne chuckled, ever amused by the princesses demeanor. "my princess do yo-"

"shut up" she cut him off. gwaybe would be shocked if he was not so amused. the princesses hand fidled with the fabric of her gown, a beat passed adn she stepped forward, steps full of nervous determination. she walked all the way to his side on the bed.

now he could see her clearly, the red of her cheeks, the purse of her mouth, the pink details of her dress so delicately wrapping her form. he still held back, fighting to not reach his hands and toutch her, make sure she was real and not a manifestation of his deepest desires. cautiously, slowly, she placed her candle atop the nightstand. "i wanted to... um... i wh-"

his hand acted on instinct, finding her hip. she looked down on his hand, exhaling. "can i- i- i should sit down right, yes" and she did just that. he repositioned himself to give her space, hand on her hip subtly guiding her movements. "i wanted to... see you i... mised you"

his hand began to move up and down on her body, making her grow tesnser. "i missed you too. never did i think i would, want lingering eyes from the shadows" "well um.. yes, i meant maybe... in a different way"

gwaynes eyes gleamed with hope, dangerous waters the princess was treading but who was he to say no ? "what is it, sweet girl ? you can tell me"

"i have this... feeling in... my stomach i just, i want... you, i just, i cant describe it" gwayne took no time to move, placing both his hands on her hips, knowing where this conversation was going, savouring the princess basically serving herself to him on a golden platter. "do you want to toutch me sweet girl ? is that it ?"

"yes. i want... i dont know, ive been thinking... you know about umm... about the things... we saw, at the brothel" his hand moved, from her thigh to her hand, she did not pull back, allowing him instead to take it, playing with her fingers, calous skin on soft one. "what have you been thinking about ?" "i... thought about... y-you and and me in... their place"

gwayne could feel his cock almost throbing in pain. she would be the death of him. his hand on hers moved, on her back, bringing her closer to him. she grew tense, her free hand still fidling with her skirts. his other hand moved to her face, cupping her cheeck, raising her head to look at him. her eyes looking up at him, her form couped up under him, he swore he was in the heavens.

still, he could gauge the princesses nerves, tense body and trembling hands, and as much amusement as he found in this little game, she remained a flight risk as well as a fainting risk, if he were to take her right away, surely she would vanish. and so, he remained quiet, unlt silently reassuring the princess with his thumb on her face. "i just umm... theres this feeling in my stomach and... it makes me want to do these, things, i- i have been thinking about this, been fantascising"

his hand on her face left, slowly dragging downwards, onto her stomach, just a little bit above her core. "this feeling, here, is it?"

she nodded furiously. she did not know what was happening to her, to her body, she only knew gwayne was causing it and soely he could fix it. gwayne her knight, her confidante, her cause and key. "show me then, sweet girl, how would you do it ?"

her head craned to look at him, confusion lacing her features, mouth open, ready to speak. he stopped her with a kiss. he kissed her, finally. all he had hoped ofr, wanted, longed to do these past couple of days, realised with such a simple movement. to his surpsride and delight she did not pull back, not only, she pressed herself further into him, her hands on his thighs, finding purchase not of nervousness but need. she needed him, she needed the support of her knight.

the princess felt as though she would implode if he did not toutch her, damned shame preventing her from unashamedly speaking her mind. times like these she wished to be like her sister, take what she wanted with no concern of consequences. just as she thought she could take no more, he kissed her. his lips were soft, so soft, a perfect contrast to the rough hands on her back and stomach. her head filled with desire, with need, she belived she would faint again, faint if he would be taken from her. her need gave no space for shame anymore, the longer his lips remained on hers the more shame drained from her body, leaving her only in desperation. he hands flew to his thighs a silent prayer for more.

he pulled away, much to her dismay. his body twisted, reaching the empty space on the other side of the bed, bringing to her a pillow. he knew he could not grant her what she sought, gods forgive, he had done damage enough, soiling the mind of such an innocent creature but he could not dissapoint her either. his mind spoke of guilt but his heart knew, this was but a carnal expression of his devotion, how could such a thing be sinfull ?

he could have his cake and eat it too, please the princess and protect the sambles of purity she still had. it was his duty, as her teatcher and knight, to guide her through the worlds of both duty and adventure. "do you ever... pleasure yourslef, princess ?" she shook her head no. "tis alright, cmon i shall show you" he placed the pillow in her lap.

confusion was not a strong enough word to describe the princessed feeling to gwaynes actions. still, she trusted him with her life, he had proven his devotion, truly, all he needed do is ask and she would jump into the depths of the sea for him. the hand on her back guided her forward, urged het to... sit on the pillow in her lap. ever so trusting, she followed his guidance. slowly, cautiously but unashamedly, she stradled the pillow. the new position reminiscent of the one the worker had on the brothel, now she understood.

"y-you want me to.. do onto the pillow, as i would onto you ?" gwayne smiled, "yes, sweet girl.i want you to use the pillow to take your pleasure, to be selfish. can you do that, for me ?" she nodded. her hands moved from gwaynes thighs to grip the pillow. the shame she had felt earlier but a faint memory, the only thing she could think of was pleasing him. she began to roch her hips, back and forth.

her core was bare on the fabric, leading her to feel every sensation, every rub, everything. she could feel tension on her insides, moving her hips back, pearl bare on the fabric, a completely new sensation. she did not know what exactly was happening, she knew not why this particular spot on her core sent shocks through her body, she only knew it aided in alevieting the tension to her stomach. she pushed her body harder onto the pillow, chasing her pleasure.

she became so consumed with discovering her own body, she neglected to notice gwaynes motions. she craned her head to the side to look at him, to find the reassurance, the praise she needed. she looked to the side and found gwayne, with his cock free, one of his hands caressing up and down, in tandem with the movements of her hips. she gasped at the sight.

gwayne looked at her, alerted by the sinful sound. the princess had shifted her position, hands to the back of the pillow, holding it in place to match her thrusts. her face was twisted in pure acstasy, head fallen back, hair tusslibg down her back, exposing her neck. gwaynes free hand flew to her face once again, pulling it onot his, kissing her.

this time it was different. their previous kiss was sweet, chaste and very brief. it was but a way for him to shut her up after all. this time it was opposite, his lips attacked hers, passion and need pouring from every one of his movements. a particularly pleasurable drag of her hips sent a gasp to her mouth, an opportunity for gwayne to intrude her mouth with his tongue.

the more they kissed the more debauched she became, the previous tension in her stomach replaced with a new one, a ball of pressure building in her loins with every movement. the more they kissed the more she understood what to do with her mouth, tongue mimicking the motions of gwayne, leading him to leave a low groan. he pulled away whispering "you will be the death of me".

by now the tension was almost unbearable, her thighs began to shake involuntarily, it was strange, far too strange and far too much, but she wanted not to disapoint "gwayne i-"

"shhh, i know sweet girl, its ok, keep going" and she did just that. her movements got sloppier, thighs by this point tired, exhaustion fighting a battle with her need to please. she let out a particularly pathetic mewl "gwayne, gwayne please, what"

"i know, i know. let go, its ok.." he replied, placing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, sweet and chaste, the antithesis of what his words had urged. the princess heeded his instruction, letting go. a sweet sensation took over her body, pleasure errupting in her stomach, through her veins, consuming every single of her limbs. she could hardly control her bdoy, movements halting, brows knitting together, moans escaping her mouth freely, almost as loud as the ones in the brothel.

gwaynes mouth found hers once again, mufflig her moans somewhat. his hand abandoned his cock, im favour of taking the princess in his arms. she was trmbling slightly still, the moment she felt his skin on hers crubling in his embrace. with care, he repositioned her to lay down on the bed, now so pliable in his hands, the nervous jittering girls present just minutes ago gone. he himslef moved, laying on top of her, staring at her face.

he could writte ballads to her beauty, entire novels to the way her forhead creased. her hair tussled around her head like a halo, white reflecting the light of the moon through the window and the candle of the bedstand in a dance of shadow and shimmer. his hands moved to her hair, playing with it, tangling in the waves of silver. slowly, so slowly, he dragged then down, brushing hair them from her exposed collarbone, lowering to her breasts, cupping them, sending a jolt through the princesses body and a whine through her mouth.

"you did such a good job my sweet." he continued, lowering his face to press featherlight kissed to her neck "there is so much i could show you... so much more i could teatch you." his words were sealed with a squeeze of her breasts eliciting yet another moan from the princess. "alas... i cannot, you know we cannot"

"but why ?" her questin came as a desperate whine. gwayne bfelt a pang of guilt in his chest, he had oppened a box of doom, one he could not seal. his desire ran a hot stream though his veing urging him to abandon his gods and worship her in their stead. but his divine calling, be it the princess or the seven, was to exist in tandem with the laws of men, and they allowed no such behaviours.

he took her legs, manhandling them across his lap, her body worming its was to his embrace. one hand rubbing smooth circles on her ankles, the other took her head, hiding it in the crook of his neck. he shushed her little whines, holding back with every morcel of his sanity. " i know sweet girl... but it would not be right to do what you ask of me. i cannot make speeches of duty, the gods only know i abandoned such a notion the second i lay my eyes upon you. you have come and turned all i knew upside down. i have not done right by you, not in the eyes of the law, not in the eyes of the seven. but, we ,ay yet salvadge our situation, yes ?"

her head made a move to look at him, perhaps to speak her mind but he prevented that, hold firm on her form. "do not worry yourself with such matters, yes ? sleep, my sweet girl and i shall take care of it"

her mind was still heavy with thoughts but alas, physical and mentall exersion would not allow for her to be arguementative at this time. she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, secure and unashamed in the hold of her knight.

gwayne could hear her breathing even out, steady inhales and exhales a song to his ears. he however, could not so easily forget his worries. the situatuin they found themselves in, or rather, the situation gwayne had put them in, was indeed precarious. if their excursion or worse their nightly endeavors were to be discovered it would end her reputation and his life. but there was a way out. he could, have her. he would have her.

and as the night progressed, sky coming full of stars, he decited, then and there, his purpose was her, her safety his duty and her hapiness wis reward. she would be his life or signal his doom, in either case, as long as she was his, he would be glad to take it.

a/n: alright yall, this took too long but im really happy with the end result. there may be minor rewrittes in the next few days, or i might release an updated version altogether. please give me your thoughts on gwaynes characterisation bc i was working with scraps.

#hotd #house of the dragon #team green #hotd s2 #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #gwayne hightower #gwayne x reader #gwayne x you #team black #house targaryen #house hightower #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire

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verai-marcel · 10 months ago

Text

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 21 of 28)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

AO3 Link is here, darling.

Word Count: 4,513

—————————————

Act II, Chapter 9 - The Artifact

As everyone packed their things and got ready to leave for the Gate, you realized that you had a new party member.

Jaheira had decided to accompany you to help defeat the Chosen of the Dead Three. She had said she couldn’t stand and watch some young brats make the same mistakes she did when she went against the Bhaalspawn.

Halsin had rejoined your party as well; he had promised your group that he would lend his aid in defeating the Absolute before returning to help rebuild Thaniel’s land. It was the least he could when everyone had helped him remove the curse.

And so now, with two druids along for the journey, you carried on to the city, despite your own misgivings about returning to a place where you might be recognized.

It’s been three years. Perhaps no one will remember me. I was only here for a tenday, after all.

It should have been a straight shot to the bridge that led to Baldur’s Gate. But just as you all had attempted to pass through, a gang of githyanki warriors ambushed you. But after having a good night’s sleep, your friends were invigorated and took them out quickly.

Lae’zel didn’t seem surprised by the attack. You spoke quietly to her as the group continued down the road and discovered that she had been visited by one of the other githyanki shortly before your group entered the Underdark. You had been sound asleep, apparently. She had met with the one you had seen flying a red dragon when you had just started traveling with them. You thought the brothel was a strange place to meet, but you figured clandestine meetings were probably commonplace there.

As you left the Shadowlands, you felt a soft tingling along your spine. It felt more like a gentle touch, like someone running their fingers delicately along your skin. You turned to see the huge tree that had been blackened and rotting suddenly glow and bloom, life returning to it in a sudden wave of growth. Light was returning to the land, and your friends had helped make it happen. You turned to the others, who had also stopped and were looking back, satisfied smiles on their faces.

The day passed on the road, chatting away, almost as if you all weren’t about to face the biggest threat to the city in nearly a century. You managed to pull Shadowheart aside and spoke with her separately from the others about what had happened in the temple.

It took her a bit to open up, but once she started to tell you, everything came pouring out. Her refusal to kill the Nightsong. Her decision to trust her instincts for once and not blindly do what Shar asked of her. What Dame Aylin told her last night in the inn.

“When we get to the city, I want to start searching for my parents.”

You held her hand. You had not put on your gloves today, on a whim. You were glad, for you felt a determination, strong and clear. The haze that you had always sensed in her emotions before was now gone, replaced by a clean clarity, like spring water. “I’ll help you, in any way I can.”

Shadowheart smiled warmly at you. “Thank you. For always being here for us. For me.” She squeezed your hand in return. “There is… one thing, I’d like your help with. I’ll tell you when we make camp tonight.”

***

You were halfway to the city when night fell, so you set up a camp a little ways off the main road. There was an abandoned house surrounded by red grasses and red-leaved trees. It was a beautiful area, not quite healed, but not quite dead either. You supposed it was because it looked like autumn had come to all the foliage that made it look so alluring to you.

Setting up the campfire, you were about to sing your fire cantrip when it suddenly lit on its own.

You felt a harsh sting at the base of your spine, and you quickly turned around. The air shimmered and Raphael appeared, all smirks and slimy grins.

“Oh? And where’s your pet?”

Your brow wrinkled. “He’s not my pet.”

His gaze focused on something over your shoulder. “Could have fooled me, with how quickly he’s coming to your side.”

You didn’t take your eyes off the devil, only listening for Astarion as he marched right up next to you.

“We delivered the devil. Now I want what I’m owed. We had a deal.”

Raphael sneered. “Indeed we did.”

You listened quietly, taking in everything that the devil was saying. It was horrendous. When Raphael disappeared with a flamboyant snap of his fingers and a plume of infernal smoke, you turned to Astarion.

He frowned. “Hmmm.”

You stepped closer and took his hand in yours. His emotions were a jumble of confusion.

“What do you think I should do?” he asked you in a quiet murmur.

You thought about how hard it was to feel free when you were constantly looking over your shoulder. “You’ll never be free while Cazador lives.”

“I hate how right you are.” He paused, thinking. “I knew he wouldn’t leave me alone even when I was just another wretched toy for him to play with. But if I’m the key to this power he craves, he’ll hunt me to the ends of Faerûn.”

You squeezed his hand.

Astarion let out a resigned sigh. “I need to take the fight to him.”

“Let’s ask the others for help.”

He looked at you, unsure.

Tugging on his arm, you led him to the others sitting by the campfire.

“No need to ask,” Gale suddenly said as you and Astarion sat down. “We’ll help you, Astarion.”

He blinked. “I…” Taking a small breath, he bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Karlach came over and sat beside him, lightly punching his arm. “C’mon now, did you really think we’d let that arsehole take you away from us?”

“And we’d be doing the city a favor,” Wyll mentioned. “I can’t in good conscience let someone like that become even more powerful.”

You watched Astarion, clearly still not used to having friends, awkwardly accept everyone’s offer to help.

Aww. I’m happy for him.

As everyone sat by the campfire, you mentally tallied up all of the things your friends wanted, and needed, to do. Visit the arcane bookstore to research the crown. Find Shadowheart’s parents. Kill Cazador. Beat the shit out of Gortash and take his netherstone. Find Orin and take her netherstone. Destroy (or control) the elder brain.

So many tasks. At the end of the day, it sounded like a laundry list for legendary heroes, not average folk.

But looking around at your friends, you thought, perhaps they could become legendary. After all, they all had harsh pasts that forced them to grow stronger, wiser, bolder, than anyone you had ever met before.

So why am I here?

The night went on, and the others began to head off to bed. You cleaned up and went to Shadowheart’s tent and asked her what she needed help with.

“I… I want to change my hair.”

You blinked. “Sure, of course.” Looking at her dark braid, you imagined the possibilities. Luscious wavy locks? A cute bob cut? “You have an idea in mind?”

“Well… I think I’d like to change the color, mostly.”

You blinked. “To… what?”

She looked up at the moonlight. “Perhaps something that suits my… heritage.”

Ah, Selune. Oh! “I have an idea.”

You sang your illusion spell, the one you had learned from Gale a while back. But now you could manipulate it to change aspects of the image, and with a few hummed notes, you could change how her hair looked in the image. She selected one that looked similar to her current style, but in silver.

“Alright, I apologize if this doesn’t work exactly how you imagine.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

You took a deep breath. Gods, I hope this works.

Then you sang. It was a soft song, one that grew out her bangs to mid-length, and changed her dark strands to platinum, the darkness ebbing away from her roots to the tips, as if you were singing away the shadows from her hair. When you finished, you grabbed her mirror and held it up to her. “What do you think?”

You held your breath as she turned her head one way, then another, her gaze critical.

Finally, she smiled. “I love it.” She turned and hugged you. “It’ll take some getting used to, but… it feels right.”

You hugged her tightly in return. “I’m glad.” Stepping back, you gently touched her braid. “It really does suit you.” Then you waggled your eyebrows. “Be sure that you ask Gale what he thinks in the morning. Or tonight.”

Shadowheart lightly slapped your arm, but shared your laughter.

***

“Are you quite done with your ladies night?”

You raised an eyebrow at Astarion, who was sitting inside of his tent, lounging back on a cushion, sipping a goblet of wine and reading a book.

“Are you jealous that we didn’t invite you?” you asked as you sat next to him.

“What do you think?”

“I think you were.”

He put his goblet down, grabbed his hair brush, and handed it to you silently.

You smiled. “You were.” Quietly brushing his hair while he relaxed under your touch, you realized after a while that he had placed his book down. You leaned over to look at his face.

His eyes were closed, his lips curved slightly, contentedness flowing from him.

“When’s the last time you fed?”

He answered after a few moments. “Yesterday, I think.”

You placed your wrist in front of his mouth. “Here.”

Gently, Astarion grasped your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist. He lightly ran his fangs along your skin.

You could feel his hunger, and his delight. And something simmering beneath those emotions, something darker, more primal. Bracing yourself for the pain, you took a deep breath.

“Thank you for this meal,” he said in a reverent whisper before biting down. It stung, as always, but the emotions you had felt before became more intense. Your whole body felt like it lurched with the sensations, and you could feel your heart suddenly racing, both from his eagerness to feed, and also from the intimacy of the act.

You weren’t sure how long he fed from you, but when he let go, he kissed your wound. “I have a vial of healing potion near those books in the corner,” he said. “Just for you.”

You poured a few drops of the potion on your wrist, then you lay down, almost curling up around him like a cat.

Astarion chuckled. “You’re like a kitten,” he murmured, commenting on your body language.

“Meow,” you said playfully.

He reached up and undid the leather strip that kept your bun together. He ran one hand through your hair, letting it cascade around his hand. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”

You blinked and looked up at him. “Erm, thank you.”

His expression looked pained, and you could feel a slight tinge of guilt through his touch. “So beautiful it almost hurts,” he whispered.

Frowning, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him down beside you. You stared into his eyes, trying to figure out why he would say such a thing. Oh. I think I know why. “What would take that hurt away?”

He looked sad. “I don’t know.”

You gently pressed your forehead against his. “Perhaps a chaste kiss?”

You were half-joking, but he looked at you with such hope that you immediately felt bad.

“Can you imagine?” he whispered. “I’ve bedded thousands. And yet the thought of a mere kiss with you sends my heart aflame.”

Cupping his cheek, you smiled. “That’s because I’m special.”

“That you are.”

He and you both leaned in slowly, eyes closing as your lips came into contact. There was a spark, a flash of white hot heat that lasted half a moment before it melted into a soft warmth. You pulled away first, not wanting to risk anything further.

Astarion’s eyes fluttered open. “Perfection.”

You smiled. “You liar.”

He chuckled softly as he pulled you in close and settled in to trance. “About you? Never.”

***

You awoke in his arms again, and together you broke down the tent before you went to help clean and pack up camp for the rest of the journey.

After another day of eventless travel, you found an abandoned fort as night fell, and decided that although you were a stone’s throw away from the city’s outer limits, there was no reason to exhaust yourselves so soon when there would be fierce battles ahead. After setting up the campsite, you climbed up to the tower and stared at the city lights. It had been a while since you’d been here. Over three years, and to you, Baldur’s Gate still looked the same.

I wonder if Waterdeep looks any different now than when I left. Not that I would ever go back. Not unless I knew that masked lord was dead.

Taking in the view for a few minutes more, you finally turned and headed back down the ladder to the campfire, where Shadowheart and Gale were setting up the kindling.

“Shall I light it up?” Gale asked, his hand raised, ready to cast a cantrip.

“Sure,” Shadowheart replied, and while you quietly stood back and watched, Gale snapped his fingers, waved his hand, and murmured some words you couldn’t hear, his eyes never leaving hers.

Alright Shadowheart, I see why you fell for him.

Setting the campfire ablaze, Gale leaned a little closer to the cleric, their arms brushing against one another.

You tried to slip away, but you accidentally stepped on some dry leaves. Gods, could I have been any more cliché?

They both turned to you.

“How long have you been there?” Shadowheart asked as Gale stepped away from her.

Argh, I’m sorry Gale. “I was just walking past, so only a second or two.”

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“She was lying?”

Both of you looked at Gale.

You’re so smart, and yet so dumb. “I was trying to be discreet,” you said as you turned to Shadowheart. “Isn’t that what you taught me?”

She laughed. “I did, and I appreciate the effort.” Taking Gale’s hand, she smiled. “But… I think it’s alright now.”

Gale looked back at her in surprise.

“Besides, everyone in camp already knows,” you said with a laugh.

Gale continued to look surprised.

Oh my gods, Gale. “Anyway, I can’t wait to see you two holding hands openly now.”

When the supper was ready and everyone sat down together to eat, Karlach gasped and pointed at the two lovebirds holding hands, like a little girl excitedly seeing something cute.

“Oh my gosh, finally!”

Gale and Shadowheart blushed. The others only laughed.

“I told you, everyone knew already,” you said, passing out glasses of wine to everyone. “A toast, to friends, to love, and to beating up bad guys.”

Everyone heartily cheered and had a few more glasses before supper was over. While you cleaned up, everyone was relaxing by the fire, amicably chatting away. It was peaceful and nice.

But you felt a foreboding, deep down in your gut. And on your seal, to be honest. And for some reason, every time you focused on the lines of magic, there was always some kind of thread leading back to Shadowheart. Or more specifically, her pack.

Could it be…?

Finally, you could no longer resist your curiosity. You knew she kept some kind of strange artifact on her person, everyone knew about it. The others hadn’t told you too much about it, other than it contained a power that was helping them resist transforming into a mind flayer. So you went up to Shadowheart after you finished your chores.

“Can I… see your artifact?”

She looked surprised. “Why?”

“I…” You paused. You realized that only Astarion knew about your seal. “Um, just curious. You all have spoken about it here and there, and I realized that I had never seen it up close.”

She raised an eyebrow, but pulled it out of her pack and showed it to you. “You can look, but I don’t think you should touch it. It might… react poorly.”

You could tell she was lying, but you weren’t sure why.

As you approached, it glowed, power pulsing along its creases. Your seal pulsed in response, and you stepped back. “Oh, wow. Alright, well, it does seem a bit… dangerous.”

Shadowheart nodded as she put it away. “It’s the only thing keeping us from transforming into brain suckers, but it’s certainly brought us trouble along the way.”

“Ah, that’s true. Well, thank you for indulging my curiosity,” you finally said, and bid her good night.

Returning to Astarion’s tent, you lay on your bedroll and stared up at the stars. Astarion was taking first watch tonight, so you would be alone for the first half of the night. Before, it wouldn’t have bothered you. Now, you wanted to hold him in your arms.

Gods, is this what falling in love feels like? To be so… needy?

Slowly, you fell into a restless sleep.

***

You awoke to the sting of your seal burning on your back and sat bolt upright.

“Darling?”

Glancing over at Astarion, who had only just taken off his armor, you only said, “seal,” and ran outside, following the lines of power. You could hear him pulling his armor back on as he ran after you. Not bothering to sneak past the other tents, you ran to the main campfire and stared up at the wooden walkway. The lines of power ended there.

“There’s nothing here,” Astarion said as he caught up to you. “At least, not yet.”

Then he suddenly grasped his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

At the same time, a portal opened on the wooden walkway and several figures stepped out, their menacing silhouettes darkening the glow from the portal.

The figures, sensing that you were the weak one, all honed in and dashed towards you.

“Go to Withers!” Astarion yelled as he deflected an arrow shot straight at your head.

You ran towards the little hut at the edge of the campsite, just as everyone else appeared and ran towards the enemy, passing you on the way.

Then you saw the owlbear cub, snarling and growling, while Scratch tugged on its neck, trying to pull him away.

Oh gods, the little ones!

You stopped to help Scratch pull the owlbear cub away from the fight to where Withers was staying, calmly talking the cub down from its bloodlust.

“No sweetheart, you can’t go fight, not now. Wait until you’re bigger.”

~~But I want to fight now. Help big brother.~~

“Big Brother?” You looked over to see Halsin in his bear form, knocking back enemies with a mighty swing of his paws. Turning back to the little owlbear, you scratched his head. “When you’re bigger, my sweet. Let’s make sure you get lots to eat so you can grow big and strong, alright? But for now, you need to stay safe and alive so you can fight later.”

Owly looked up at you with his big pleading eyes.

“No, you must stay here.”

He hooted sadly.

You turned to Scratch. “Thank you for helping him.”

~Of course, Mistress. I couldn’t let our little brother get hurt.~

You blinked. “Mistress?”

Scratch tipped his head. ~Well. Yes. I suppose you’re our mistress now. You’ve been good to us. You care about us. You feed us.~

You nodded. “I suppose. But to me, we’ll always be friends.”

Scratch pressed his wet nose against your knee. ~Yes, always.~

Turning your attention back to the battle beyond, you decided to stay behind and wait for the others to handle the fight. You watched as they defeated the enemies and jumped into the portal. Everything grew quiet, and it looked like the warriors on the ground were well and truly dead.

You came upon the corpses, a bit surprised to see that they were githyanki.

Ah. Odd. Oh well.

You began to loot their bodies, taking all of their armor and weapons for later bartering. Then you dragged their bodies, one by one with Scratch’s help, to the cliff’s edge, tossing them off the side.

When you saw Owly devouring one of the bodies, you had an idea. “Owly, do you want to eat the others?”

Owly looked up and looked around. ~~Yes, more food!~~ he chirped happily around a mouthful of flesh.

Good, that’ll be less weight to push off the cliff.

You cleaned up the camp and prepared some healing potions, waiting for the others to return.

A few hours passed, and when they came out of the portal, your companions looked exhausted. More concerning to you was Gale was helping Shadowheart walk, her arm wrapped around his shoulders, favoring her left leg. You called her name and immediately went to the other side of her, putting her other arm around your shoulders. Helping her to the campfire, you and Gale sat her down, leaning against a rock to prop her up.

You went to grab a few healing potions, quickly returning just in time to see Gale holding her hand, gently whispering to her as she grimaced against the pain. You knelt down beside her and helped her drink two of the potions, monitoring the ghastly wound that ran along the length of her thigh as it healed.

“You’re a tough one, aren’t you,” you said soothingly as you helped her out of her armor.

Shadowheart only shrugged.

“Can you walk now?”

She nodded. “Yeah, seems alright.”

“Good. Leave your clothes outside your tent, I’ll clean and mend them before morning.”

You didn’t say anything when Gale led her to her tent and followed her inside.

Now you could tend to the others. Everyone already knew the drill as they tossed their clothes in piles outside of their tents, clearly ready to be done for the night. Just as you were about to dutifully gather their things, Astarion gently guided you back to his tent.

“Astarion?”

“It can wait until you’ve had some sleep,” he said, dropping his armor and bloody clothes on the floor inside of his tent. He pulled on a pair of soft linen pants and lay down on his bedroll. “Come here, darling.”

Just as you laid down next to him, he pulled you on top of him, draping you over his body like a blanket. A feeling of satisfaction oozed from him, so you let him hold you.

Letting his body lull you into a warm, comforting stupor, you softly sang a lullaby from long ago.

Soon enough, both of you fell asleep.

***

You woke up when Astarion did. More specifically, he jolted upright, accidentally flinging you to the side.

“Astarion? Are you alright?” you asked, panicking at the look of fear on his face.

“I… I slept.”

You blinked. It took a moment for you to register exactly what he said. “Wait, I thought elves didn’t sleep.”

“We don’t, generally speaking. At least, I don’t.” He stared at you. “Your song last night. It was different from your usual lullaby.”

You thought about it. “Oh… it was one my mother used to sing to me. It’s… in Sylvan…” You shook your head. “Wait, I thought nothing could make an elf fall asleep?”

Astarion stared at you. “Curious.” He finally shrugged. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you not sing that song in my presence again. I… dreamed about the past.”

He said that last word with such disgust that you were afraid to ask what he dreamed about. “I’m sorry.”

He waved away your apology. “You didn’t know.” Looking closely at your face, he raised an eyebrow. “You want to ask me what I dreamed about, don’t you?”

You swallowed. “I don’t want to make you relive something you don’t want to.”

He shrugged and held your hand. “Perhaps telling you will help me forget about it.”

You could tell that Astarion was omitting or glossing over certain things as he spoke, but you got the gist. Entombed for a whole year. You could barely manage a day without eating, but a whole year? You wanted to tear out Cazador’s entrails and strangle him with them. Your tears fell, full of rage and sadness for Astarion, who was punished far too harshly just for showing a bit of compassion.

He brushed your tears away. “You’re far too empathetic,” he said.

You have no idea. Taking a deep breath, you calmed yourself, your breath still shuddering. “I wish I could feed him his own innards.”

Astarion laughed. “If you could fight, you would have been a magnificent menace,” he said proudly. “It’s almost a shame you’re as sweet as you are. Can you imagine yourself tearing your enemies limb from limb?”

You chuckled. “That is definitely a fever dream of an image.”

He took your hands and pressed his forehead to yours. You could tell that some of the fear was subsiding, but there was still a slight thrum beneath everything else. He finally leaned back and took a breath.

“Everyone said that they’d help you. They’ll help you kill him, and you’ll be free,” you assured him.

He only hummed thoughtfully before getting up. “Well, I suppose we should face the new day, hm?”

***

As you went around cleaning and mending the damaged clothes from last night, you could overhear snippets of conversation as the others ate breakfast.

“The Gate is close. As is Cazador.” You could hear Astarion’s ire as he launched into a tirade, his words dripping with venom.

The others commented, but your ears perked up when he mentioned taking Cazador’s place in the ritual.

I’m not sure about this.

You continued to eavesdrop until they decided to look for Astarion’s ‘siblings’ around the dens of the city. You couldn’t quite tell what everyone was thinking, but with each person having their own goals in the city, you wondered if they were all distracted with their own thoughts and not truly paying attention.

After an hour, everyone had packed up and gotten their things packed onto the floating disc. Walking down the path towards the city, you quietly pulled Astarion aside.

“Are you sure about… taking Cazador’s place?”

“We need to find out more, but why not? Don’t you want me to be stronger?”

I do, but not if you’re sacrificing souls to a devil to do it. “Just… think about the consequences.”

He shrugged. “I am.”

You could tell that he wasn’t. Leaving it alone for now, you followed the group into Rivington, and a new phase of your adventure.

Gods, we have enough shit headed our way. I hope I can help them, if even just a little bit.

-------------------------------

Act II, Chapter 9 End notes: Finally, we’re getting to the city! What new trouble will our heroes find themselves in? How will our dear hearth witch handle the big city? Find out next week! Just seven more chapters to go, my dears…

Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion x f!reader #female reader #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #writing #bg3 spoilers #your hearth is my home

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itsclydebitches · 10 months ago

Text

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Summary: Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Shadowheart, and Tav enjoy a well deserved night off with plenty of drink.

Pairing: None

Word Count: 1,760

She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety, should the need arise. - Shadowheart

-----

“So it’s true what they say about Selunites and liquor.”

“What’s that?”

Wyll blinked, seeming to have lost the thread between his comment and Tav’s question. Beside him Karlach snickered loudly into her mug.

“I don’t know,” he finally slurred, morose. “Should I?”

“You brought it up, bud.”

“I did?” Wyll reached one hand up into his hair, gripping, only to be met with a horn instead. Tav saw the exact moment his sloshed mind registered the new-ish appendage without recalling why he had it. They flicked an emergency look at Karlach. She slung an arm around Wyll’s shoulders.

“They say,” she whispered, knocking her head companionably against his, “that they’re lightweights. Eh? Eh?”

Wyll’s mouth made a perfect ‘o,’ then split as he dissolved into giggles. Astarion let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Honestly. Now we know why the Duke never let his offspring drink at social events, don’t we? And Karlach, did you just make that up?”

She toasted Astarion from across the table.

“That’s...” he seemed to chew on his words for a moment. “Not half bad. Lay down your ax and you could have a career in comedy, darling.”

“Ha! You’re the hilarious one.”

Wyll’s laugh was infectious and Astarion was saying something fascinating about the stand-up of two hundred years past, but Tav ignored both as they spotted a familiar figure in their periphery. They subtly raised a hand towards the Elfsong’s bartender and got an equally subtle nod in return. More drinks would appear on their table in due haste—without the requisite coin. Word of their reported heroism had spread across the city, their names exalted even by those who normally distrusted the Baldur’s Mouth, and Tav’s little party had found themselves on the receiving end of numerous offers lately. They’d rejected most out of hand—too easy a method of subterfuge—but free drinks for the night? After the hell that was the foundry? They needed this.

Besides, they were unlikely to find another safe place to indulge anytime soon... and that was assuming they’d all make it out of this war with the Absolute intact. Tav shook the bleak thought away, nodding in thanks as another mug appeared at their elbow. Gale had joined them for the first hour before taking his leave, saying that anything more than a glass of wine was a bit beyond him these days and really, it would be a crime to leave Josen’s The Illustrated Guide to Magically Infused Flora unfinished for the night. Blurg had proven to be quite the recommender of books. Jahira had volunteered as an all-night look out—someone needed to let the kids have their fun—and Lae’zel, to everyone’s surprise, had decided to spend the evening with Halsin. Last Tav had seen he was teaching her the basics of wood carving, a hobby they never would have attributed to the githyanki, though the appeal made a bit more sense once they heard her aspirations to carve the greatest dragon their pathetic world had ever seen.

In short, this was the most peace they’d seen in months and Tav had every intention of hoarding it.

“What do you think?” Astarion said. He was speaking to Karlach but facing Wyll, one hand making a coin disappear and reappear with a finesse that left the drunk warlock enthralled. “What would it take to get Withers to join our little party?”

Karlach hooted, slamming one hand down hard on the table. “Oh, I’d pay to see it! The other patrons’ faces as well. How many undead resurrection peddlers do you think this inn has seen?”

“About as many good cleanings.” Astarion sneered at the grime on their table. He made the coin disappear a final time, leaned over, and wiped his hand on the front of Wyll’s shirt. Wyll just smiled.

“That feels nice," he murmured.

“I’m sure it does, you beautiful man.”

Tav choked on their drink, firmly telling their own muddled mind to remember this image in the morning: Astarion dragging one hand sensually down Wyll’s chest while Wyll beamed the smile of the wasted, perpetually listing to one side so that Karlach was holding him up.

“Does Withers even drink?” they asked, then winced. That image wasn’t nearly as cute. “I offered him food a couple of times and he always gave me this look. You know,” Tav tried to replicate the stoic, yet somehow condescending expression that the skeleton loved to employ. “He doesn’t need to eat, obviously, but does he want to? I think he should. It’s only right, you know? Everyone in the party eats. Withers is a part of the party, so—” They swung the mug to emphasize the importance of this, splashing the table in the process. “Oops.”

“Frankly, I couldn’t care less what that bag of bones does or does not consume, but do you know who is in need of a hearty meal?”

It took Tav a long time—too long—to realize what Astarion’s batting eyes and winning smile were asking for.

“Ohhhh,” they said. “Uh, it’s gonna be strong. I think.”

“Excellent.”

So Tav expertly drained the mug in their hand, palmed a blade, and drew it decisively across the back of their arm, refilling the mug with blood. They gratefully took the rag Karlach handed them as Astarion drank deeply around a sigh.

“Pace yourself,” Tav reminded him.

“Chug it!” Karlach countered.

It didn’t take a seer to figure out who Astarion was going to listen to.

The lull gave Tav a moment to take stock of their own state and they winced at the haziness that had permeated the inn. Karlach had the constitution of an owlbear and it would take at least a few minutes before Tav’s blood had any effect on Astarion, but Wyll now had his forehead pressed to the table, muttering something incomprehensible against the wood. While Shadowheart...

Oh dear.

Tav wasn’t sure when ‘So drunk she couldn’t remember Shar’s name’ had become ‘Full on passed out with a string of drool inching down her chin,’ but Shadowheart had definitely passed into the latter territory. Hesitantly, Tav reached out to give her a poke. Their finger missed her shoulder by an inch. Blinking, shaking their head, they gave it another go and landed somewhere in the vicinity of her collarbone. Shadowheart didn’t move, but the string of drool dropped down to mar her shirt.

“We killed Shadowheart,” Tav whispered.

Astarion leaned into their side, a heavy weight. “Eh?”

“We killed Shadowheart.”

Karlach was across the table in a heartbeat, shoving poor Wyll aside to get an ear near Shadowheart’s chest. A moment later she spluttered out a relieved laugh as her head gently rose and fell with Shadowheart’s breathing.

“Fucking hells, soldier, way to give me a scare! She’s fine, she’s fine. Well, probably not going to be feeling so great come tomorrow, but provided we don’t let her drown in her own vomit she’ll be kicking ass again soon enough.”

“That’s optimistic,” Astarion said, eyeing the puddle of drool Shadowheart was now leaving on the table. “Also: ew. Also, if you—” he pointed a stern finger at Tav, “—ever scare me like that again I will give your favorite shirt to Tara for shredding purposes. My heart just skipped a beat and it hasn't moved in a century! I—wait.” His eyes narrowed. “Gods. Does drinking normally make me admit that all aloud? I can’t remember. Did it used to make me this talkative? Oh fuck, I need more, lest I remember this come morning...”

Tav was shooing their clingy vampire back while Karlach laughed. Shaking her head she stood, tested her own balance against the table, and with a satisfied “Whoop!” bent to pick up Wyll with a single arm. He went willingly—if limply— enough. Tav caught a soft murmur somewhere around Karlach’s waist and then what might have been a sad echo of her ‘Whoop.’ A weak hand lifted to cheer, then fell, scraping the inn floor.

“Alright, you too,” Karlach said and snagged Shadowheart by the back of her shirt—like a mother cat collecting her kitten. Their healer went over her shoulder with all the grace of a potato sack but Tav nodded, feeling very happy with the image.

“Do I need to grow another arm?” Karlach asked, eyeing the two of them skeptically. “Or I can come back down...?”

“We’re perfect, darling, absolutely perfect. Don’t give it a second thought. Though you would look stunning with multiple arms, I'm sure.” Astarion slung his around Tav’s shoulders in a move that let him pull their neck awfully close. Tav planted a sticky hand over his face and ignored the squawk.

“We’re good,” Tav confirmed, then blinked when what came out was a garbled string of consonants and vowels. They glared down at the mug in their hand. When had it turned their lips numb? Stupid mug.

Karlach sighed. “Yeah, I’ll be back in ten. Starting to wonder if those squid bastards specifically went after lightweights...”

She disappeared up the steps to their room, inspiring curious looks and more then one whistle in her wake. Tav felt a giddy emotion bubbling up at the image—which was immediately interrupted by Astarion remembering that he probably shouldn’t drink directly from their neck in a public place, so he poked them—sharply—with the knife instead. Poke poke.

Poke poke poke poke pokepokepokepokepokepoke—

With a growl Tav finally re-filled Astarion's glass, then smacked their lips until they decided to work again.

“We are going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow,” they sighed.

It was worth it though, right? Tav forced their meandering mind to focus on the consequences: Gale’s disapproving looks, the mood Shadowheart would not doubt be in the next morning, the fact that there was always the risk that they’d come under attack during the next few hours and Gods, would Tav be useless if it came to a fight. Really, they should do the responsible thing and throw themselves into the nearby fountain, try to sober up abit—

"Yes we are!" Astarion cheered, blood splashing across his shirt, and he smiled. Not a smirk, not a flirty grin, just... a smile. Genuine and bared with the assurance of safety, not false confidence. Tav stared at it for a moment, stunned, before their own smile emerged in response.

One more round. Karlach had said ten minutes, which really meant five—three, probably, considering she was worried about them.

So they'd have to chug it.

Challenge accepted.

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #Astarion #Karlach #Tav #Wyll #Shadowheart #BG3 fic

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