#Rhiannon x Rolan
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jin-likes-to-write · 11 months ago
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So found George Taylor (Rolan’s VA) in TikTok with the “Loot the Body” video.
All I can think of is companion Rolan following Tav around chanting “Loot the body” gathering all the useful items. He’s totally modified a bag of holding “Rolan’s bag of magnificent holding” it auto sort.
Rolan is thrifty due to his upbringing he is well aware of how much things will fetch with the traders and what is actually worth keeping. Gale calls him a pack rat, which causes some bristling and Lia goes through Gale’s books and dog ears all the pages.
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(With my oc!Tav Rhiannon a Seldarine Drow Druid)
Slowly Rolan a bit begrudgingly after deciding to travel with the group with Cal and Lia in tow to Baldur’s Gate looting the bodies he picks out things that the Druid would like. Knowing she loves to collect stones and anything about necromancy. He ignores the snide comments Basket gives as Rhiannon thanks him with a soft smile making him want more of those smiles.
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freesidexjunkie · 9 months ago
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First Light
I have FINALLY got the first chapter of my Rolan fic ready!! This one is just fluff, so no big tags. Alcohol mention, bittersweet ending.
Word count: 9,129
AO3 Link here
It is a truth universally acknowledged that an archmage in good standing must be in want of an apprentice. That was what awaited Rolan in Baldur’s Gate, he reminded himself. He would happily sit through this night of drunken merriment if it meant they were finally free to continue on in the morning. Well, perhaps not happily, but tolerably. In his opinion, they had already wasted enough time while they cowered in the druid's grove; but Lia and Cal would not allow themselves to be swayed before properly thanking their so-called hero.
“Hells, Rolan. You look far too dour for someone who’s supposed to be celebrating,” his brother said, leaning against a felled log with a drink in hand.
“I’d rather not end up as a drunken fool by the end of the night. I’m sure you’ll already have that taken care of,” Rolan replied. “Besides, I’ll celebrate when there's a real reason to. All any of us accomplished was being the damsels in distress to a crew of adventurers.”
Lia raised her glass to point at him, swaying a bit as she did. “Glowering in the corner all night won't get us to the Gate any faster, Rol. You may as well join us ‘drunken fools.’”
“I bet he wouldn't be so grumpy if a certain person wasn’t still talking to Ikaron,” Cal said, nudging his sister in the side. He nodded his head in the direction of a half-elf woman a little ways off, sharing a drink with one of the refugee guards.
Rolan begrudgingly turned his head to look at Rhiannon, laughing and standing unnecessarily close to the tiefling. Not unnecessarily close, he chided himself; she was free to seek the company of whomever she wished. The rest of the camp certainly was.
“She likes the grumpy ones, doesn’t she?” Lia said, flashing an unendurably knowing grin at Rolan. He didn't deign to reply, only grunting in annoyance and rolling his eyes as he turned his back to the scene.
He certainly had no expectations of Rhiannon seeking his company out. He had assumed when they met that she was nothing but talk and pomp, and had treated her as such. As a result, she likely thought the exact same of him, he imagined; another overconfident wizard who's bark was worse than his pitiful bite. He had done little to suggest otherwise, stewing and grumbling behind the grove’s safe walls while threats abounded outside. A less generous person may have even called it whining – his sister certainly had. But while he sat about worrying and complaining, Rhiannon had acted, clearing the road of goblins and saving them all. Rolan liked to fancy himself more than capable of a little skirmish, but that, it seemed, was the difference between them; where he fancied, she did. 
“You gonna talk to her at any point, or just keep glaring at Ikaron all night?” Cal asked.
Lia snorted from beside Cal. “Please. He’s been staring at her for daaays,” she said, her drunken drawl dragging out the word. “He's just too chicken shit to admit it.”
Rolan’s face grew warm as he started to flush. He lifted his wine to his lips to hide it. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered into the glass.
“Aww, see, Cal? He’s embarrassed,” she continued. “Admit it, Rol. She’s not such a… what did you call her, again?”
“Nothing,” he hissed.
But they remained undaunted. “A ‘meddlesome little goodie two shoes,’ I think,” Cal said.
“Oh, pardon me for being skeptical of a group of mercenary adventurers,” he replied sourly. He surely couldn't be faulted for his suspicions, especially after what Aradin and his crew had done. Most people, after all, were only in it for what they could get; she was merely the unexpected exception. “I am… grateful for their help, and I will be even more grateful in the morning when we can be on our way.”
“Riiight, that’s why you keep sneaking glances at her when you think no one’s looking,” Lia said with a hiccup. “Why don’t you just admit you think she’s -hic- cute?”
Rolan choked on his wine. He spluttered, turning his face to hide the creeping blush. In a voice that he hoped sounded unbothered, he answered, “she’s… tolerable, I suppose. I wouldn't go so far as to call her pretty, but–”
“Who said pretty? Besides you, that is,” Cal said.
“Idiots, both of you,” Rolan hissed again. “Don't you have anything better to do?”
“Mmm, I dunno, Lia,” Cal said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “He picks an awful lot of fights with her. Most people don’t pick so many fights with someone they have a crush on.”
The word flustered Rolan even more. Crush? Ridiculous.
“Rolan's not most people,” Lia replied. “For him, picking useless arguments with her daily is practically begging her to–”
“Enough!” Rolan shouted. Their teasing was relentless. He looked around to make sure they hadn’t attracted any attention as he coolly straightened his robes. “You are both completely out of line. I assure you, I have no opinion of the woman either way.”
Rather than silencing them, his outrage only added fuel to their snickering fire. “If you say so, Rol,” Cal said. “So, if she came over to talk to us, you'd continue to be totally unbothered, like you clearly are now?”
“Of course,” Rolan answered sharply as he sipped his wine.
“Oh?” A dangerous glint was catching in Lia’s eyes; he saw the wheels turning in her head just a moment too late to stop them. “Let’s test that then! Hey, Rhi–”
Rolan jumped to stop her as she cupped her hands around her mouth, but it was too late; the adventurer was already looking towards them. He let go of Lia’s arm and cursed under his breath as his siblings waved for her to join.
Rhiannon was, of course, all smiles as she excused herself from Ikaron and walked towards them. She was always all smiles; excessively so, it seemed to Rolan. Still, she looked somehow different than he remembered as she bounced over to Lia’s side. Her hunting leathers were abandoned in favor of light summer clothes; and her dark hair flowed in careless waves behind her, instead of tightly braided up and out of the way. All the blood and dirt she usually sported had been scrubbed away for the occasion, and for once, she smelled less like goblin guts and more like��� honeysuckle? He was staring; he knew he was, gods dammit all, and he would never hear the end of it.
“Hey Lia. Hi Cal,” she said warmly. With just a glance at him, she added quickly, “Rolan.” She almost sounded nervous; had he given her that poor of an impression? He nodded silently to her in acknowledgment, silently making a note to absolutely throttle his siblings for this later.
Rolan suddenly wished he had prepared a good invisibility spell; with his siblings, he should have expected something like this. Surely everyone was too drunk or distracted to notice if he slipped away? He began to search his mind for any half believable reason to leave, but before he could open his mouth, his siblings flanked him.
“We just wanted to make sure you were enjoying your party. Rolan thought you might be a bit bored over there,” Cal said, clapping his brother on the shoulder. Rolan didn't respond, only clenched his jaw; he considered how bad the collateral damage might be if he were to cast a fireball at his brother right now. He almost thought he saw Rhiannon’s cheeks flush. Gods, was the mere idea of him that abhorrent to her?
“It’s not my party,” she replied, “but it’s nice of you to–”
“Oh, I beg to differ, fearless goblin slayer,” Lia interrupted, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Alfira’s been trying to write your ballad all evening.”
“What drives a hero like yourself, anyways?” Cal asked, shooting a sideways glance at Rolan. “What do you get out of meddling in our affairs?”
Rhiannon let out a small laugh, running her fingers through her hair as she pushed it back. “Wrong place at the right time? I don't know. It just… needed to be done, I suppose, and we were in a position to do it.”
Cal nodded, as if he was trying to look very serious. “Very admirable. Wouldn't you agree, Rolan?”
Rhiannon answered before Rolan could begin to formulate a reply. “Reckless is more like it, I think,” she said, “and I don't think I could claim it was entirely altruistic. We needed the First Druid and a clear road just as much as anyone else.”
“Regardless, I think we need to share a drink with our savior!” Lia said, wobbling a bit as she raised an open bottle in cheers.
Rhiannon took the bottle from her with one hand and reached to steady Lia with the other. “I think you've had plenty,” she said, gently righting them both. To his surprise, Rolan found himself enjoying the scene - only for a moment, of course. And only at Lia’s foolish behavior, obviously.
But a moment was long enough for Lia’s notice; he was caught, and whatever momentary delight he may have found died under her scheming eyes. “Noooo, you should definitely stay. Rolan’s just about to show off his spells.”
An unspoken agreement passed between his siblings in the next few moments. “Oh, of course,” Cal said, sounding a touch too eager. “Rolan’s been dying to show you his magic touch.”
Rolan glared pointedly at Cal as his brother and sister snickered. Rhiannon was looking at him expectantly from under Lia’s arm, still trying to keep his sister upright as she grinned smugly at him. He tried to regain his composure. “You don’t – I… am sure you have better things to do than…” He trailed off, gesturing a hand and a slight bow of his head in place of any words.
“What’s the matter, Rolan? Performance issues?” Cal whispered loudly.
“Too much wine, Rol? Or is something else distracting you?” Lia asked, far too transparent for Rolan’s liking as she shot a wink at Cal that he prayed to all the gods went unnoticed.
“Oh, for… hush, both of you,” he answered with a scowl, heat crawling up the back of his neck. He was no stranger to his siblings' taunts and teases, and could normally give as good as he got – in private. They weren't likely to drop the topic until he was utterly mortified or Rhiannon was entirely put off from him - or both. Rolan cast half a glance at her before looking quickly away, as if his eyes couldn’t bear the humiliation of seeing her reactions to all this. “You… can stay, of course. If you wish.”
“Oh, she’s staying,” Lia said, half-dragging the woman along with her to sit on a nearby rock. Rhiannon made no objection, only laughing as his sister pulled her along, assuring Lia she “wouldn’t dream of missing it.” Cal stood on the other side of her. All three were now staring expectantly at Rolan - though it was only her gaze he found himself faltering under. He stood still for a moment, trying desperately to remember any spell of the dozens he had taught himself while his sister continued to taunt him. “Well? Get on with it, wiz.”
“I… be patient,” he scolded with a nervous huff, trying to will himself to appear calm. “Have you no respect for showmanship?”
Cal snorted loudly, earning himself a playful swat from Rhiannon before all eyes turned to Rolan. Clearing his throat, Rolan began to move his hands across the sky, fingers deftly tracing intricate patterns into the air in front of him. With a final flourish, a shower of shimmering purple lights flickered to life in front of them. He looked on at his handiwork with a self pleased grin - until he caught sight of Rhiannon. She was leaning forward in her seat, positively enthralled as the shimmer of the spell sparkled against her gray eyes. He was almost transfixed himself, either by her or from the wine in his system as he watched the lights dance across her face. He was so enraptured by the sight that he had barely noticed her gaze drift past the spell onto him; she had caught him openly staring, he realized, as she laughed and looked away.
He cursed himself silently. By the way she fidgeted now in her seat, he had surely made her uncomfortable again. But Cal didn't seem to notice, letting out a low whistle as he leaned back. He looked at Lia over the top of Rhiannon’s head. “Remember when he could barely cast that?”
“They grow up so fast,” she replied, miming as if to wipe a tear from her eye.
Rolan scoffed back at them as he rolled his eyes. “It was you two who insisted on a magic show.”
Rhiannon simply laughed, a warm and friendly sound that made his insides flutter. “Well, I thought it was lovely,” she said. “Very impressive.”
“Lot of fuss for some twinkly lights,” Cal said, waving his hands around in an animated pantomime of spellcasting.
“Of course. I’d never expect a troglodyte such as yourself to appreciate the finer things,” Rolan quipped, trying to appear less amused than he was as his brother clutched at his chest.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lia looking mischievously at Rhiannon. Whatever unspoken words passed between them made her blush rather furiously as she jumped to her feet. She cleared her throat and let out another nervous laugh. “Well! I’m sure I should get out of your hair. But thank you, really. For including me in your…”
“Oh,” Rolan replied, his face falling serious again. “Of course. I…” He wasn’t sure if he was feeling more relieved or disappointed, only that he found it hard to meet her gaze as she made to leave.
“Actually,” Lia said as she shot up from her seat, still more than a bit wobbly and clinging to Rhiannon’s shoulders, “me and Cal were just leaving.”
Both of her brothers looked at her with a quizzical brow. “We– oh!” Cal said as she kicked at his leg. “Right. Alfira said she needed us for… you know, that thing. The, uh…”
“Lute strings!” Lia finished. “And once she restrings her lute, we were going to help her finish her song, so we’ll be gone for a while. Say, Rhiannon, if you're not busy…?”
Rolan was painfully aware of the ideas forming in Lia’s mind as Rhiannon looked at her, head cocked to the side. “I… not exactly, no. But really, I wouldn't want to impose on–”
“Ah, nonsense!” Cal said as he clapped her lightly on the back, walking past her to grab Lia’s arm. “He doesn't mind. Do you, Rolan?” He didn't wait for a reply, other than the withering glare Rolan shot at him.
“Great, that’s settled then!” Lia said as she slid past them. “He’s not busy, either. And he wouldn't be so cruel as to turn up his nose at your company – would you, Rol?” She stood beside Rhiannon, hands on her shoulders as she flashed her best not-so-innocent eyes at her brother. He wanted to strangle them for this; for trying to embarrass him, and for dragging Rhiannon into their little scheme, to boot. 
Rhiannon gently shrugged her way out of Lia’s grasp and opened her mouth – no doubt to politely decline, he was sure. So much so that he found himself greatly surprised by her answer. “I… wouldn’t mind the company,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
He stared at her for a second, wondering if he perhaps had misheard her. Disbelief, then surprise, and something like relief crossed his face in a matter of moments. Before he could respond, Lia spoke. “Great! I’m sure the two of you will have fun,” she said, shooting a covert wink at her brother as she passed.
“Yeah, let him show off for someone else for a change,” Cal added with a grin.
Rolan started, watching them leave with a defeated grimace. “I swear, the two of you are–”
“Play nice, Rolan!” Lia called over her shoulder as the two of them disappeared. Rolan shook his head as he let out a sound somewhere between a nervous sigh and a chuckle. He turned back to Rhiannon, a bit unsure of what to do next; she was still standing in front of him, still clutching the bottle of wine to her chest as she shuffled back and forth on her feet. Was she waiting for him to speak? Did he know what to say, anything to say to her? 
“Wine?” She asked, stiffly sticking her arm out to offer him the bottle.
“Gods, please,” he replied, gratefully taking it and pulling a long swig. He winced against the bite of the cheap drink, no doubt salvaged from some ransacked village, and wiped the remnants from his lips with the back of his hand. “Sorry. About them. They’re…” He shook his head again with a huff. “You don’t have to… if you have somewhere else you'd rather be, I wouldn't… I would hate to hold you up here, I mean.”
“No,” she answered quickly, before adding, “but I wouldn't want to be a bother if–”
“You’re not,” Rolan answered, offering the bottle back with a small smile as his own nerves lessened. “I'm more worried about being poor company, I suppose.”
“You’re not,” she answered back softly with her own grin. “A bit grumpy sometimes, though. Insufferably cocky, according to some.”
“I am not–” He looked up to defend himself, but the anger in his chest melted to surprised amusement when he saw her smirk: was she… teasing him? “You’re worse than Cal and Lia, you know. If I had known you stuck around just to mock me…”
She took a sip from their now shared bottle with a playful smile. “Oh, I wouldn't dream of mocking you, Rolan. Besides, cocky isn't exactly a bad look for you.” At that, Rhiannon  started, as if her own words had snuck up on her. “Or… for wizards in general, I mean. After all your studying and everything, I’m sure you've earned it.”
“Don't let Lia hear you say that,” he replied. She laughed again, swaying ever so slightly towards him as she did; his heart suddenly felt like it was doing flips in his chest. This might have been the longest conversation he could remember having with her, now that he thought about it; the longest without some snide remark slipping from his lips, at least. He cringed to himself again at what an utter ass he had been to her; but looking down at her now, laughing and smiling, standing so close to him that he could smell her perfume, flowers and wine and her godsdamned laugh muddling his thoughts…
“It's impressive,” she said, bringing him back to reality as she leaned against the rock again. “Did you really teach yourself everything?”
“Of course,” he answered. “No one in Elturel had the time or the inclination to teach an orphaned tiefling child how to be more dangerous, but I knew I had it within me to be great. I became my own teacher.”
“How did you do it?” Rhiannon asked. “I mean, it couldn't have just been books, right?”
Rolan stepped forward to reach for the bottle and took a quick swig before answering. “Books, yes, and practice. I… I used to sneak out to watch the Hellriders when they were fighting. We weren't supposed to, and our mother would've been furious if she caught me, but… I watched the mages casting, and tried to copy what they were doing until it worked.”
“Huh.” She was staring at him critically - or perhaps inquisitively. “I never had the chance to study magic. Always wanted to try, but being on the road, village after village… traveling tutors weren't exactly in the budget. That, and I'm afraid I never had your discipline when it came to studying.”
“Oh?” He replied. “I would have thought you’d meet plenty of mages on the road. They couldn't teach you?”
Rhiannon took another sip of wine with a rueful smile. “Yeah, well… truthfully, my dad wasn't thrilled with the idea of it. He taught me a few practical things, of course, like he used - healing spells and some stuff with my bow. But there was always a reason not to take any lessons. We didn't have time to stop, or money was too tight. Spellbooks were too heavy to lug all over the Sword Coast. But really, I think he was just scared of me running off like–” She stopped short, as if she had surprised her own self with her story. “I… sorry, must be the wine. I’m sure I didn't stay to talk your ear off with my life story.”
He recognized the look on her face as she eyed the ground; the same look he saw on his siblings and the other refugees when they were trying not to dwell on Elturel. It was the look they usually made right before leaving to sulk in their own misfortunes. But he wasn’t ready for her to leave; truthfully, he was desperate for her to stay, to keep talking and laughing and just be near him. He searched his mind for anything to salvage the conversation before it was too late.
“Why did you stick around, then? If not to pick fun at me.”
She started a bit, pushing a strand of hair back from her face as she looked from the ground to him, a mischievous twinkle lighting in her eyes.
“I'm only here to watch some magic, of course,” she answered with a coy smile.
He smirked back, his own eyes lighting up at her smile. “Of course,” he said, though not without noticing the way that she blushed. Surely just the wine, he told himself, but... “By all means then. What kind of magic were you hoping to see?”
“I… don't know?” She answered, perking up against the rocky seat. “I thought you were supposed to be the expert on magic. What can you do?”
Rolan answered with a very self-assured snort. “Plenty. Watch.” He moved to stand beside her as she watched with one eyebrow raised at him. With a little looking, he found his target: Cal, trying his luck with the dark-haired cleric on the other side of the camp. He gave Rhiannon a quick sideways glance before casting; in moments, a short gust of wind knocked his brother off his feet, sending his drink careening towards the woman’s clothes.
Rhiannon gasped beside him before breaking out in laughter. “You’re horrible!” She said between laughs, trying to sound serious as she swatted his arm. “I never knew magic could be so petty.”
“When the need arises,” he said, looking over at her. Her hand was still on his arm, resting just at his elbow as she watched the scene unfold with guilty amusement. “Don’t feel too badly for him. He’s not as innocent as he seems.”
“Is that so?” She asked, laughing. “Well, gods forbid I ever end up on your bad side. If that’s what you do to your own brother, I can’t imagine I’d have any hope.” She swayed a bit as she laughed, bumping into his arm and sending a shiver through him.
“I wouldn't worry about that,” he said, surprising himself with how gentle his own voice sounded. 
He paused; Rhiannon had suddenly gone silent. Had that been the wrong thing to say? The wrong way to say it? He looked down at her, frozen at his side now, eyes locked onto his with a more serious expression. He’d accidentally overstepped, misread the tone of their conversation, and had now put her in an awkward position. It was Rhiannon who broke the stillness, before he could come up with an appropriate apology. She looked down at her hand in mild alarm, as if she was surprised to see it still laying on his arm, and stiffly patted the spot as she withdrew.
“Well, that’s a relief,” she said, taking a nervous step back. “And I thought you didn't like me.”
He let out a tentative sigh of relief as he cast his eyes on the ground. “Yes, well… I do give off that impression, don't I?”
“Oh no, I didn't mean– I just… hells,” she said. “I didn't exactly make a great impression on you, either, I’m sure. With the whole… sticking my nose into your family’s business, and then delaying your apprenticeship, and… I wouldn't have blamed you for holding it against me. I didn't blame you, in fact.”
Rolan looked at her, a bit… confused, honestly. She thought that she was to blame for his horrendous behavior? His rude remarks, constantly belittling her - she thought she had deserved that? After everything she had done to help the refugees, the grove, all of them, he’d still been unable to reign in his terse manner; and for some reason, Rhiannon had not only not held it against him, but believed it was what she was due.
Even if she saw no problem with his behavior, he felt that he couldn't let it stand. “Rhiannon, I believe I owe you an apology. Many apologies, probably, for my… ‘disagreeable behavior’ would be too polite to describe how I’ve treated you. You did nothing to deserve that, and you continued to help us regardless. I shouldn't have–”
Rhiannon cut him off with a wave of her hands. “You don't owe me anything, Rolan,” she said with that disarming smile. “If anything, we’re even for getting on each other’s nerves.”
He felt a lightness blossoming in his chest at her words, as if he was just now realizing how much this guilt had been weighing on him. He disagreed, of course. Her teasing and badgering were not at all “even” with his own harsh words, but he wasn't going to pick a fight with her over how many fights he had already picked with her; not now, at least. They fell into silence instead; he was unsure how to continue, but reluctant to let her go just yet. As she stood in front of him, kicking at the dirt and awkwardly shuffling the wine bottle in her hands, an idea came to him. He reached for the bottle and took a swig for courage. “Let me make it up to you, then.”
Her eyes shot up to meet his, twinkling with curiosity as she crinkled her nose. “How?”
He didn’t answer her question, only giving her a little smile as he nodded to an empty patch of shore a few yards away. “I think we’ll need more space for this.” Rolan held out a hand to gesture her forwards,  a silent “after you” before following her to the water’s edge.
 “Alright,” she answered as she eyed him with a grin, “but if you conjure up something to push me into the water like you did to Cal…”
He barked out a short laugh. “I wouldn’t dare. Just a peace offering,” he said, moving behind her while she watched him quizzically. Looking over her shoulder, he said, “here; hold up your hands… no, more like this…” Gingerly, he set his hands on her arms and guided them into the right position. He was painfully aware now of their proximity, of the very short distance between them. close enough to feel the coolness of her skin compared to his. A single movement could have brought them together, any sway or stumble or bump. That thought alone terrified him, the worry of another misstep to test her good graces as he poured all his focus into acting normal. He tried to keep his mind clear, to focus instead on the Weave around them. Hovering his hands just over her forearms, he began to to channel a small amount of magic through to her.
“Alright,” he said, steadying his voice, “try to focus on the Weave. Can you feel it?”
“I… I'm not sure,” she answered quietly, crinkling her face. Could she tell how nervous he was? Was it possible for her to pick up on his thoughts through the magic he was lending her? “I feel… something, I think.”
“Good. Grab onto that,” he said, chasing his paranoid ramblings away. “Now, you need to just copy my hands.” He demonstrated the casting gesture, a simple pattern traced with the fingers followed by a wave.
“Like this?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at him for confirmation. Her fingertips crackled lightly as she finished the gesture.
“Exactly,” he said. “Now, just grab on to that fragment of the Weave you felt earlier. Channel it outwards while you do that again, and…” With a small wave of both hands and a flourish outwards, shimmering silver stars burst forth from Rhiannon’s hands and hung in the air before them.
She stood there for a moment, mesmerized by the display as Rolan watched the stars twinkle in her eyes. “You did that, right?” She asked, still looking forward.
“No,” he answered, his eyes still locked on her. “I provided a channel for the Weave, but the spell is all yours.”
Watching her eyes light up in wonder at her own spell work, Rolan was struck with another idea. Casting a slight modification of the gesture, the stars in front of them slowly transformed into glittering silver sprites, couples dressed in ball gowns and finery as they waltzed across the air in front of them.
Rhiannon gasped as the dancers took shape. “That’s amazing,” she said with an almost breath less laugh. “And you do this all the time?”
“The magic? Of course,” he replied. “I don't often… I don't teach it to others, normally, but… I…”
The words melted away from his mind as she turned to look at him, shoulder just barely leaning into his chest as she smiled coquettishly over it. “Good,” she said, “I was worried this was the trick you showed all the women you were trying to impress.”
He laughed, letting his arms fall to his side. His heartbeat was picking up rapidly. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” she said, her teasing smile shining brighter than anything he could conjure as she turned and laid a hand on his chest. Would she be able to feel his heart, he wondered, beating wildly against his ribs with her every word? She leaned against him a bit more. “I was hoping I might be a special case.”
Time froze on that moment, balancing on the precipice between the playful teasing of a friend, or something more. He hadn’t even allowed himself to consider her a friend before; he didn't think he had earned the right. Rolan’s thoughts seemed to stop, completely consumed by Rhiannon, by everything about her. The way her laughs against him had seemed to reverberate through every inch of his being; the coolness of her hand on his chest; the electrifying thrill of her touch, through only a thin layer of fabric. He was lost in her eyes, her smile, her lips; gods, her perfect lips. With his breath still catching in his throat, he gently raised his hand, fingertips lightly brushing a few stray wisps of hair off of her cheek.
“You are,” he whispered before closing the space between them, placing his lips on her own. He went slowly at first; a gentle, tender, sweet kiss, with his arm around her waist oh so lightly, giving her ample leave to pull away if he had misjudged. But she didn't pull away; her own hands slid up his chest to cup his face as she pulled him in closer. Rolan felt like his world was exploding, infinitely, more and more with every movement of her lips against his. He felt her fingers weave gently through his hair as she ran her tongue across his lips with a small hum against them in the form of a question. He gave in quite willingly, their tongues aching to find each other while he wrapped his arm tightly around her middle, pulling her closer until she was left clinging to him for balance. But nothing was enough, it felt like; he needed more of her, a feeling she seemed to share. One of her hands made its way toward the belt of his robes, snaking just underneath the fabric to feel his skin, her delicate fingers sending a shiver up his spine as he lost himself in her. It was wonderful; it was perfect; it was–
“Rolan! Are you doing fireworks again?” 
It was very rudely interrupted. They shot apart from each other at the sound of the tiefling child’s voice, followed by the patter of small feet running towards the shoreline. “Can you do– hey!”
“Not for you, squirt,” Cal’s voice followed. Rolan saw him grab the little boy by the shoulder and turn him back around. “Run off and play somewhere else.”
He thought he saw a sly smirk on his brother’s face as he shepherded the boy away; Cal and Lia were surely going to be unbearable when he saw them next. He stood stock still, dumbfounded as he tried to make sense of the last few moments. It wasn't until he felt Rhiannon start to shake with poorly stifled laughter that he realized his arms were still wrapped around her. His heart sank to his stomach, fear that he had done something wrong after all flooding in. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said, trying to master her own laughter. “It’s just…” She looked up from his chest, standing up on her toes to reach his lips as she leaned in. “Remind me to thank your wingmen later.”
***
The sun was well above the horizon before Rhiannon was able to rouse herself from her tent. So much for an early start, she thought as she dragged herself to the fire and blearily poured some coffee. As exhausted as she felt, she didn't regret a thing; she had spent half the night laying on the beach with Rolan, teasing the tiefling wizard between lazy kisses, and the other half lying awake thinking about him. Her heart fluttered as she thought over it again, memories of the night before playing through her head on repeat. 
But as much as she had enjoyed it, his timing couldn't have been worse; the tiefling party was leaving for Baldur’s Gate this morning, and her own group was bound for Moonrise Towers. How bittersweet that their first moment’s together were set to be their last. But still, she thought that she would much prefer to carry the memory of sweet kisses that came too late than the regret of them never having come at all.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you,” came a gruff voice from the edge of their camp.
Rhiannon felt a grin tug at the corners of her lips as she saw Rolan walking towards her very seriously. She smirked at him over the rim of her mug. “Good morning to you, too,” she said, stepping closer until she was only inches from him. He stopped short, a blush creeping across his cheeks adorably as he faltered, the cracks in his determined veneer coming apart so easily at the slightest provocation.
“I…” He stopped, letting out a chuckle as a small smile donned his lips. “Good morning. I thought I might’ve missed you.”
She shook her head, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “I just overslept. For some reason, I didn’t get much sleep last night,” she teased. “I was actually worried you might’ve already left.”
“Of course not.” The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, might have sounded short or even rude to her yesterday; but the thought that he hadn't wanted to leave without seeing her, as if the idea of it was ridiculous to even consider, spawned butterflies in her stomach.
“I– well, Cal and Lia and myself, we– I thought that– ugh,” He threw his head back with a disgruntled huff.
Rhiannon cocked her head at him, confused, before realization washed over her like ice. Was he having second thoughts? Did he regret their night together, showing her stars and magic tricks and tenderness? Was he trying to find the words to let her down easy, to avoid awkward expectations if they met again in the city? “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just– I am… not good at… this,” he said, gesturing broadly at her. “At…”
The lightness that had been in her chest turned to lead. She was making too much out of one impulsive evening; of course she was, and he could tell. Hells, everyone at the party had been looking for someone to spend it with. Why had she assumed it was more than that? 
“Oh,” she said, taking a step away to hide her reddening face. “I… it’s fine. You don’t have to explain, Rolan. I understand if you don't–”
“No!” He said quickly, reaching out for her arm. “No, that’s not… Gods, I’m already making a mess of this.” He paused, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts before continuing. “I… we thought… if we’re all headed to the city anyways, and there’s strength in numbers, that you might… you all could…”
“Come with you?” She asked hopefully, the words out of her mouth before she realized.
“I… yes,” he answered. “Or that, if the rest of your group doesn't want to, that at least… you might stay with us.”
He… was asking to stick together? Rhiannon’s heart swelled to an ache at the thought; at the idea of Rolan wanting her near, and the knowledge that she couldn't accept. 
“Oh, Rolan, I… it’s not that I don't want to, believe me. I would in a heartbeat if I could, but… we really can't split up. Even if we wanted to. And we have to go to Moonrise Towers, and…” She realized she’d been avoiding his eyes. And the crestfallen look on his face as she looked up at him, the way he was already retreating back from the moment - it stung in her chest. She grabbed his hand earnestly as she continued, stepping in closer to him. “Rolan, please believe me when I say I wish I could. And I… just to know that you - or, all of you, that you want me around, is…”
“Why can't you, then?” Rolan asked insistently. “What’s so important about some ruined old towers? If you’re after adventures and gold, there’s plenty of other places that aren't so–”
“It’s not that,” she interrupted. She could feel her chest tightening as she spoke. “It’s complicated. I can't– it’s not easy to explain, but we can’t just… go our own ways.”
“Why not?” He demanded. Rhiannon looked away again as her eyes began to water. Not now. Don’t mess this up now. “Rhiannon?”
Images of the night before flashed in front of her as she looked at him. Shining little couples dancing across the sky, awkward laughs and sweet kisses, gentle arms around her. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to ebb the flow of tears threatening to break loose. “I… I'm worried if I tell you everything, you’ll…” She took a deep and nervous breath. “You won't look at me the same way. You’ll see… something else entirely. I just don’t want to… to ruin something… nice.”
Rolan furrowed his brow and tilted his head at her, confused and concerned eyes darting over her face. But he didn't pull away. “Tell me anyways.”
A choked laugh bubbled its way up her throat. Of course he couldn't just make this easy; he was going to pull the truth out of her, and afterwards, she knew that all he’d be able to see in her was a monster waiting to happen.
So be it, then. “Alright,” she sighed, nervously fidgeting with his fingers in her hand. She looked at the sky, then the trees, and the ground; anywhere but his face. She didn't have the strength to see the look in his eyes when heard what she was about to say. “When that ship crashed… we were all on it. We’re all abductees who somehow managed to survive the crash.”
She watched the realization form in his head. “But that was a nautiloid. It was a mindflayer ship.”
Rhiannon bit her lip nervously. “Yeah.”
“But if you were abducted, they would have… it's been weeks, that’s not possible. How could you still be…?”
Tentacle free? Blissfully in control of their own minds? “Alive?” She settled on. “I don't know. We think it has something to do with that little box Shadowheart carries, so as long as we stay together, we’re fine. But that’s why we needed Halsin. That’s why we have to go to Moonrise; he says the… he says it comes from there.” 
She couldn't bring herself to say the word: tadpoles. The tadpoles that were slithering through their skulls, threatening to turn them all into soulless abominations. This would certainly be the end of any goodwill, let alone any feelings Rolan or his siblings might have had towards them. Towards her in particular. “I know it must feel like a betrayal, but I swear, Nettie made sure we wouldn't pose any danger to you all. We never showed any symptoms, and she gave us a bottle of wyvern poison to take if we–”
“Wyvern poison?” Rolan scoffed, a flash of anger in his voice. “She wanted you to poison yourself?”
“To keep us from hurting any of you. In case we couldn't find Halsin, or… who knows what else. I promise, Rolan, we never wanted to put any of you in danger. I never meant to–”
“We’ll come with you, then,” he interrupted.
Rhiannon stopped, tears halting as she cocked her head at him. “What?”
“If you’re going into the shadow curse, you’ll need magic to counteract it. Not to disparage Gale’s talents, but I doubt he has the experience that I do in these kinds of magic. And if you’re delving into ancient ruins, you'll need even more help. Lia is good with a bow, and Cal can handle a sword well enough,” he said. He didn't look angry, or upset, or utterly disgusted by her admission; he looked… determined.
Rhiannon felt confused; he didn't understand, surely. “No, you– it’ll be dangerous.”
“We can handle ourselves, I assure you.”
“That’s not what I mean. I… we could… change at any time. It wouldn't be fair to put all of you at risk like that.”
“You won't,” Rolan said decisively. “Not as long as you have that box, whatever it is. That’s what you said.”
“Well, as far as we know, but…” She continued to stare into his face, bewildered and bemused; and a little in awe, to be honest. “What about your apprenticeship? Weren't you in a hurry?”
“It… will still be there,” Rolan answered; he tried to sound cool and unbothered, but the nervous flickering of his tail betrayed him. “I can send word ahead with the other refugees. Besides, studying mindflayer repelling boxes and shadow-cursed lands must count as some kind of experience. Lorroakan will be all the more impressed, I’m sure.”
His offer was incredibly tempting, to be sure; but the weight of it all still loomed over her. “You don't have to do this, you know. No one could blame you for sticking to the safe route, especially when it’s not your fight,” she said. “I can't ask you to do this.”
“You’re not,” he replied, very matter-of-factly before melting into a faint smirk. “Lia is, actually. I think she’s grown rather fond of you.”
Rhiannon let out a small snort that erupted into a burst of giggles. It felt like too much to expect; she almost wondered if was still dreaming.
“Is that so?” She asked, tentatively laying her free hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound wildly as she hovered inches from his lips. “You’re saying Lia would miss me, then?”
She could hear the sharp breath he drew in getting caught in his throat as he wrapped an arm around her waist; could feel the shaky exhale against her lips as he stared deeply into her eyes. His answer was barely a whisper: “very much.”
She grinned back at him, biting her lower lip with a contemplative hum. Her heart felt like it was trying to climb its way out of her throat, the elation and anticipation within her too much to fit in such a small space. She leaned in slowly, heart thumping, her eyes never breaking from his. “In that case…”
“There you are. Are you quite ready to– …oh.” Rolan started under her hand, blush creeping up his cheeks before burning into annoyance at the elf’s salacious tone and very unwelcome intrusion.
Rhiannon glared at him pointedly. “Can I help you, Astarion?”
“Apologies, I didn't realize you were busy,” he replied, cutting suggestive eyes at the two of them. “Some of us were simply wondering if you’d be ready to depart any time soon. You know, worms to be cured, cults to be dealt with…”
“...oh,” she replied, deflating as she sank back down to her feet. It was late into the morning, to be sure, but she had hoped… “Are they already ready?”
“Very nearly,” Astarion answered. “Halsin is talking to his druids; probably telling them when to water his trees in his absence, or whatever it is druids do.”
Across the camp, Halsin’s hulking form jutted out above the rest, in jovial conversation with his people. He was the one with the knowledge of the shadow curse; they would have to clear this with him if Rolan was to join their party. Rhiannon grabbed Rolan’s hand, uttering a quick “thank you” to Astarion as they took off in that direction.
“Halsin?” Rhiannon called as they grew near. “Do you have a moment?”
Halsin looked up from his discussion with a kind smile. “Of course, my friend. Speak your mind.”
“Right. Well, I– or rather, Rolan was saying– if it would be possible, that is, we…” Her stuttering, fumbling words came to a halt as they all tried to come crashing out of her mouth at once. She looked sideways to Rolan and nodded towards Halsin, a silent plea of a little help, please? 
“My family and I are coming with you,” he said, stepping forward insistently as if he meant to leave no room for argument.
Halsin's face fell; he noticed the clasped hands between them. “I… see. I'm afraid we aren't bound for the city for quite some time, unfortunately.”
“I know,” Rolan replied. “We’re coming all the same.”
“The nature of our business at Moonrise is–”
“He already knows about the tadpoles,” Rhiannon interrupted, bouncing nervously at Rolan’s side. “They want to help, and I know it won't be easy to get to Moonrise, but that’s exactly why we could use their help. Right?”
But it was clear to her by the way Halsin looked at them that they weren’t going to like his answer. “I understand why you wish to come along, and I admire your bravery, but–”
“We’re more than capable of holding our own,” Rolan interrupted, the telltale signs of his temper flaring up. “So if you’re going to try and convince me that we can’t handle it, you can save your breath. We’ve survived more since the Descent than your peaceful little grove has seen in–”
Rhiannon tugged on his hand, a silent signal to please stop blowing up at the person they were asking a favor from. He grunted in response, clearly annoyed, but let any further words remain unspoken. 
Thankfully, Halsin remained calm in his address. “I don't doubt your abilities, or your achievements. But the shadow curse, and this cult, present challenges that cannot be felled with force. If they are using these tadpoles as a means of control, as I suspect they are, I hesitate to allow any more people than is necessary to risk their lives.”
“We haven't been infected. They can’t control us,” Rolan replied huffily.
“Exactly,” Halsin continued. “They will recognize you as outsiders, at which point they will try to infect you with a tadpole we may not be able to counteract, or…”
“Or worse,” Rhiannon finished under her breath, remembering the scenes of murder and desecration they had witnessed at the goblin camp. “You’re right.”
“That’s not your decision to make,” Rolan answered, almost snarling on the words as he continued to challenge the druid.
Rhiannon pulled his sleeve again. “Rolan…”
“What?” He replied as he turned on her, the words coming out almost harsh enough to sting.
“Can I speak to you privately?” She asked. Rolan bristled, but bitterly acquiesced, his tail kicking up dirt as it swished angrily behind him.
“Your conviction is admirable, as is your dedication to each other,” Halsin said before letting them go. “I take no joy in splitting a young couple apart, but… Oak Father willing, we’ll all meet again in the city.”
Rolan snorted derisively, like he had another biting remark ready as Rhiannon pulled him away, muttering a small thanks to Halsin.
“He means well, Rolan,” she said once they were by themselves again.
He shook his hand loose from hers. “Don’t try to patronize me. Just because the druid doesn't think we can handle it–”
“I’m not,” she replied, laying a hand on his arm. “I know you can. If any of you could handle the shadow curse, I’m sure it would be you.”
Rolan scoffed harshly. “Then why do I sense a ‘but’ coming on?”
Rhiannon struggled to look him in the eye, fiddling with his sleeve as she stepped closer.  “Halsin’s… right about the cult, I think. Especially about the… listen, getting yourselves infected would be bad enough, but they could do much worse. I saw them do worse, Rolan.” 
“So everyone keeps saying, but I think we’ll manage against a few bloody cult nutters who fall to any group of adventurers,” Rolan insisted, “not that I mean any offense, but–”
“No, Rolan, you don't understand. The things they were doing in that camp, the things they spoke about, you can't–” Panic rose in her voice as she remembered the gruesome scenes burned into her mind; torture racks and cages, men thrown to wild beasts out of boredom, bodies made unrecognizable as they roasted on spits, or butchered like cattle to become worg feed. And everywhere they turned, the repeated promise of more at Moonrise. 
She forced a deep breath. “You have to stay with the other refugees,” she said, the words spilling out of her as her breath returned. “Because I can't watch them do that to you, any of you. Certainly not because of me.”
“Rhiannon–”
“Please.” She put her hands on either side of his chest as she stepped into his arms, gripping at the fabric of his robe. “I know you don't need to be coddled and talked down to. I’m not trying to, but I… I can’t be the reason you all take this risk. Not when you don't have to.”
She stood there for what felt like far too long, her heart drumming erratically as she waited for him to respond. Finally, he answered with a defeated sigh. “I… alright. Fine.”
She let out a heavy sigh of relief, melting into his chest. “Thank you,” she replied softly. “And I'm sorry, Rolan. I am. I just–”
“Don’t be,” he interrupted. He sounded gruff, almost annoyed at her; but the gentle, nervous way he laid his hands on her hips suggested otherwise. 
She let out another sigh, more comfortable this time than anxious. “It’ll work out better like this anyway, won’t it? The other tieflings need your help more than we will. That’s the reason you stayed behind to begin with, isn't it?”
Rolan ran his thumb over her side, looking down at her with an almost sad smile. “Of course.”
“Right,” she said. “And this way, you won't be late for your apprenticeship. And I can send you some very detailed letters about the shadow curse to impress Lorroakan with. Maybe even some samples of whatever weird shadow magic you were hoping to study.”
“Oh?” He asked, amused. “And where will you find a courier in the shadow cursed lands?”
“You mean there isn't some magical letter service you can whip up?” She replied. “How do you wizards get anything done?”
He chuckled at her under his breath. Her eyes were still streaked with red, and a single tear trailed its way down her cheek. As he reached to brush it away, she caught his hand in her own and pulled him in for a kiss. It only took a moment for him to register; he wrapped his free arm around her waist as he kissed her back, fiercely, full of purpose and promise as she wove her fingers through the hair at the top of his neck. He splayed his fingers across the small of her back as she pressed herself further into his chest, rolling every inch of herself against him in ways that would surely haunt his dreams in the months to come. As suddenly as she had started the kiss, she pulled away, still holding his head to hers, leaving him breathless and hopelessly dazed as he clung to her form.
“Just wanted to give you something to look forward to,” she murmured. She pressed one last chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away from him entirely, leaving only the tips of their fingers linked between outstretched arms. “Where will you be when I get to Baldur’s Gate?”
Rolan blinked as he recollected himself. “I… Ramazith’s Tower,” he answered by rote as his mind replayed what had just passed between them.
“Alright. It’s a date.” Rhiannon let her fingers drop from his on the last word as she backed away, eyes locked on him and a smirk on her lips. She kept up the coy facade until she turned away, letting it slip with a shaky breath once she was certain he wouldn't hear. Don’t let him see you making a fuss over it, she chided herself. No long, teary goodbyes to taint what should be a happy memory. It should be some sweet little thought to get her through the coming weeks; not something lost, but something had. But perhaps it could be something more, if she could make it to the city in one piece. The promise of something between them to keep her moving forward.
Something to look forward to.
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jin-likes-to-write · 11 months ago
Text
The Great Study of Rolan Pt 1
A College Modern AU of BG3
TW: None
A/N: I’m using my (current) Tav a Seladrine Drow, Druid, AFAB, she/her Rhiannon for this. I will keep it neutral in certain descriptions just as I know a lot of people prefer x-reader style, but I wanted to be a bit self-indulgent. When I get back on my computer I will include a photo of Rhiannon for those who want to know, what Rhiannon looks like.
I think it will be 3 possibly 4 parts? I tend to be able to write Wednesday and Sundays as those are my days off, in USA EST time. As work and household chores are a lot on me. I haven’t written anything multi-part in a while so mind errors and such, I wanted to get this out. :)
Part 1 - Back to Ramazith University
It was the end of the holiday break, time to get back to Baldur’s Gate to the university. She had spent the break visiting Emerald Grove with her friend Astarian and Karlach studying the local cultures.
It was Sunday and the three made their way back to the campus a few other groups of stragglers back to the university were behind them. Karlach was carrying her and Astarion’s luggage as the Vampire Elf was “too hung over” still and hadn’t an ounce of energy left in his body for pack mule work. Rhiannon as usual had packed light, just a back pack holding the essentials with her. As a Druid of the Underdark her tribe always was nomadic and spent a lot of time on the move.
Rhiannon, Astarion and Karlach were in their first years of University, to be exact Ramazith University of Finer Learning. Karlach had been a friend for a while having meet her a year before she had decided to go to university, Astarion she had met the first day of classes. Astarion was still a bit of a mystery to her, he rarely showed up to class but always managed a sufficient passing grade. Karlach managed a sports scholarship but and spent time being tutored by Rhiannon to make sure she keeps her scholarship. Rhiannon studied several classes with a light work load as she was trying to decide what she wanted to truly study.
Rhiannon had made sure Karlach and Astarion had made it to campus fine, as Karlach had to stay in a dorm due to the sponsorship and Astarion well slept somewhere. It was a mystery to where he actually stayed at, it was rumored he slept in the rafters or on the couches of random students. Rhiannon had her own albeit tiny apartment off campus that was more of a closest than an apartment.
Her place consisted of a living room that branched off to a small kitchen with bare minimum equipment. From the kitchen there was a narrow hallway that had a small bathroom and at the end of the hallway the bedroom. It was something that the University offered for some qualifying students at a discounted price.
‘Home at last,’ Rhiannon thought to herself as she plopped the bag on the floor.
It was dark in the apartment not worrying about the light, as Drow seeing in this dim light was of no bother to her. Most of the times she kept it dark just as it reminded her of home and kept her from getting homesick. Homesick for the Underdark was not something she thought she would ever get.
Opening the fridge there was nothing. . .of course she had donated the food that would have gone bad prior to her break. The plan was to get home early to go shopping and stock back up but Karlach wanted to visit the hot springs prior to coming back and set them back a few hours.
“I guess I’ll wake up early and hit the breakfast crowd.” Rhiannon mused as she moved towards the small bedroom to settle down for the night.
As she pulled off road-worn clothes, plopping them to the floor a thought flickered to her mind, a fleeting image of a surly Tiefling. Smirking at the thought of the TA, Rolan pouring his morning cup of coffee muttering under his breath searching for a quiet spot to sit.
Rhiannon had met Rolan prior to university. She had arrived with Karlach a month early to Baldur’s Gate to get acquainted with the city and ran into him with his siblings one day. The city was bustling and immense so many sights that it was overwhelming, a pickpocket had snagged her wallet from skirt pocket, the short Drow chased after the young Tiefling child.
The small child was fast knowing the territory better than Rhiannon was making quick work of the ground. Diving through a group of Tiefling, Rhiannon lost the kid smashing into a broad set of shoulders, both falling in a heap on the ground.
======Flashback=======
With a yelp Rhiannon fell to the ground the Tiefling she fell on let out a groan tail whipping against her angrily instantly bruising the spots it smacked.
‘My wallet!’ Rhiannon managed to yelp as the Tiefling flung her off of his back pushing her backwards.
‘Mattis!’ A voice shouted, a male Tiefling rushed after the small boy while the female Tiefling chuckled looking down at the scene before her.
‘Watch where you are going, fool.’ Growled the fallen Tiefling as he got to his knees, golden eyes burning hate towards her, fangs bared.
Rhiannon was startled, she didn’t have much interaction with Tiefling a few here and there but they tend to keep to themselves. Plus most see a Drow and turn the other way, assuming the worst. She was use to that. He looked like she was a worm, something foul that dare touch him.
‘That kid stole my wallet. . .I was just trying to get it.’ She retorted, bristling at his comment she wasn’t a fool trying to take back what was hers.
‘You dirtied my robes I have an interview shortly and now I look just as drab as you do. Dare I go to one of the most important interviews of my life looking like a Mud Mephit?’ He glowered brushing off his attire, as he got to his feet leaving her on the ground.
‘I think you would need to improve to look like a Mud Mephit, to be honest.’ Rhiannon commented as she got to her feet.
‘Oh I like this girl, Rolan! She’s not here for your shit.’ The female Tiefling said laughing as she help brushed off the male.
‘You’ll think different when Professor Lorroaken denies me the position.’
‘You can just tell him you were hunting the Nightsong and he’ll lap it up.’
‘Hey - I got this back.’ The young Tiefling that had chased after the thief, a bit out of breath he held out the wallet.
‘Thanks, I appreciate that I just moved here and I got a bit lost and distracted.’ She answered taking back her wallet.
====End Flashback====
In the morning Rhiannon woke begrudgingly early heading to the campus to get dibs on a decent breakfast selection. Filling up a plate of food, she found a quiet spot and enjoyed a quiet morning before the busy day of classes.
Rolan was not ready to start the day, he had been working all day on Sunday preparing Professor Lorroaken’s class for Monday morning to make sure everything was just right. The professor was in a mood when he had come back from holiday break a few days ago, he had been at a disclosed location dealing with his “researchers” looking for the Nightsong. The obsession of the professor’s that made more work for Rolan. Sure he was more than qualified to do the work but it was a lot on top of his job at the library, school and taking care of his siblings who just find it always the best ways to cause havoc.
He spotted a strange sight in a corner seat, the first year Drow, Rhiannon eating. She normally wasn’t at cafeteria during the morning as she generally had Cal and Lia at her apartment scrounging for breakfast from her. Shaking his head not truly worried by the appearance of the Drow, just that meant Cal and Lia would be ravenous at dinner tonight. Perhaps he could convince them to visit her for dinner?
Ever since the day that Rhiannon had crashed into him and his siblings, Cal and Lia had made fast friends with her. He couldn’t quite grasp why perhaps her banality was amusing to them? Lia always sung Rhiannon’s praises, she cooks, funny, smart all that but Rolan felt it was just false praises. It wasn’t worth his time to make friends or unnecessary social interaction he was busy with, everything. There was no room for other things, no matter how pretty or endearing they were.
Definitely no room.
None at all.
As if she knew she was being started at, Rhiannon looked up locking eyes briefly with Rolan. Staring through her, Rolan realized that she was looking at him shaking his head dragging fingers through his hair that was slightly damp still from a morning shower. He didn’t have time for such things. Rhiannon smiled at him as he turned away rolling his eyes at the comfort that the smile brought to him.
“Ridiculous.” He muttered heading to the coffee cart, loading up the sugar in a cup.
“You really shouldn’t waste your time on that, pill my darling.” Astarian’s cooing voice called out as he appeared out of nowhere plopping down beside Rhiannon.
“Oh morning Astarion. He’s not even the bit interested in me, I just wish he would accept me as a friend. Lia says that is ‘like the most impossible thing ever’. I think he still holds it against me for crashing into him when I was chasing that thief.”
“He’s a sourpuss, plenty of other prey worthy of your attention and further more of your affection than he is, darling Rhia.” Astarion said, leaning back in the chair, lifting his legs up plopping them on her lap reaching over snagging a handful of grapes.
“I know. . .” She said trying not to be obvious she was watching Rolan saunter over to the exit with just the coffee in his hands.
———
Over the next few weeks, classes were back in full swing and the tests were starting to pour in. Walking down the hallway Rhiannon spotted Rolan, he was carrying a pile of books heading to Professor Lorroaken’s office, her next class. Rushing over to him she snagged some books off the top of the pile so the over encumbered Tiefling could see where he was going, his golden eyes turned downwards to her smiling face with a glower.
“I do not need your assistance I am just fine.” He let out with an exasperated sigh.
“Really? I saw you nearly walk into a student just like a second ago?” She teased, looking down at the books these didn’t pertain to the course load for this semester for Professor Lorroaken.
More Nightsong theory books and ancient history books on gods and myths.
“I did not, I am well in-tuned with my surroundings Miss Rhiannon.” Rolan chastised her, a slight huff as he started heading towards the classroom.
“Hmmm.” She gave a slight frown noticing the bags under his eyes, the weariness in the tone of his voice and the grumbling of his stomach. “When did you eat last?”
“What does that matter to you? It is none of your worries.” Rolan brushed her off as he reached the door, snaking his tail around the door handle pulling it open.
“Have you had a break at all, Rolan? You look worn out, I heard rumors about Professor Lorroaken that he goes though TAs like they are going out of style.”
“That is none of your business, Miss Rhiannon. Please stay out of my life, I do not need your charity. I have more talent than any of those other assistants.” Rolan spat out caught off guard as he entered the room, tail pushing the door more to allow her in.
Shaking her head, Rhiannon followed Rolan to the desk as Professor Lorroaken came out of his private office to see students filing in. Slamming the books on the desk she flickered a glare at the professor who just gave her a confused look unsure of her irritation.
———
On the way home from the market Rhiannon was carrying some groceries knowing that Cal and Lia where coming over later to for dinner, part of their weekly ritual to spend a night together with either games or a movie and relax. Sometimes Astarian or Karlach would join in the festivities making it a full blown party. Tonight was just suppose to be Cal and Lia.
Suppose to be.
Until she spotted Rolan walking down the street, heading towards the apartment the shared with Cal and Lia, his footsteps uneven, wobbling a little. Any passerby would just assume this Tiefling was drunk if they even considered that as most ignored Tieflings. It was concerning seeing him like that, his normally deep crimson skin was sallow looking, normally well kept hair was barely held up in a bun strands falling into his face.
There was a part of her that thought he looked rather good looking a bit bedraggled like that. But it was more concerning that he was this worn out from all the work he’s been through, she knew from what Cal had told her that he would leave the University after his tasks are done there come home rest for a bit then go back to the University to the library to do the restocking and cleaning overnight to pay for their housing.
She wanted to say something to offer him to come over to her place to eat with his sibling but the words from earlier burned in her heart. She hesitated as people rushed past her continuing their daily errands as she watched him trudge forward trying to make it home.
Rolan stumbled falling to the ground, people ignoring him as the Tiefling passed out. Rhiannon rushed over to him, ignoring the people around her as she shoved them out of the way trying to get to Rolan. He was breathing roughly as he struggled to get to his hands and knees, swearing softly.
Dropping her bag of groceries to the ground, Rhiannon was on her knees next to Rolan helping him up. She reached a tentative hand to him, wary of his reaction as his head jolted towards her leaning back to miss the sharp horns.
“Leave me I am fine.” Rolan growled angry, recognizing the face before him wanting it to be anyone but her.
Why her?
Why her, kind and gentle face staring at him with pity in her eyes?
Why could it not be her just let people ignore him like normal, that just a Tiefling who cares? No it has to be this sympathetic Drow with her bleeding heart wanting to be friends with him. She was always trying to find ways to talk to him, to endear herself to him. Always there trying to help to remind him that he can’t do everything himself. That he alone isn’t enough to take care of himself and his siblings.
He is enough - he doesn’t need her help.
Shoving her back Rolan got to his feet, feet wobbly as he was feeling drained from all the work the unending tasks. Head spinning he tried to keep his balance, he needs just a bit of rest and he would be fine. Rhiannon jumped to her feet reaching out a hand to support him, to help him stay standing.
“Rolan he is working you too much - you are working too much. Come to my place and have dinner with us. I can call Cal and he can help, we can sit - - -.”
“I said I am fine. Save your pity for someone else. I can handle this. I am not weak.” Rolan spat out pure venom the feeling of her hand on his back just above the base of this tail was comforting.
It was comforting so much it burned the kind touch was something he yearned for. But not from her. From anyone other than her. She was infuriating with her kindness, her concern.
To see her how she treats her fellow students despite so many of them tend to steer away from her knowing most Drow are insufferable. She was far from it. She was a warm comforting blanket on a cold winter day. The touch he wishes for. But he couldn’t stand that she was one to make him feel that way. She was easy to talk to, talented in her classes easily making it in the top ranks, Cal and Lia loved talking to her. He was not easy to talk to, not supportive, not strong he had to work so hard at everything. She was so many things he was not. It was infuriating on how much he wanted to be in her radiance but the burn of it was too much it reflected so much of his flaws. His imperfections. How much he fails his siblings.
It was making him angrier - the frustration fueling his drive feeling awake now he walked away from her. He needed to be free of her. This anger she brought in him was confusing it didn’t feel right…like it wasn’t anger but something else - perhaps he was too tired.
Rolan pushed her back with his tail forcefully barely wanting to be near her making it down the path with more vigor now.
The tip of his tail is sharp it grazes against the exposed thigh as her dress just reached above her knees, spilling blood. Rhiannon stumbled back nearly falling over against, Rolan glanced back noticing the damage he caused pausing briefly as his eyes widen with shock. He snapped his head back forward and rushed off.
The next morning Astarion was helping change the bandage on her leg explaining it was a waste of perfectly good blood.
“Darling Rhia I told you to drop him. He’s just not worth the worry. Why worry over him? If you like Tieflings you know Dammon is one hundred percent available and he’s a little cinnamon roll.”
“Maybe you are right…” Rhiannon said as she thinks about Dammon.
Dammon worked for the university on the custodial staff fixing things in turn to afford some night classes the school offers at a discount. He was sweet and always endearing himself to everyone. Dammon worked for the local blacksmith honing that craft as he took classes for business management.
It didn’t take Rolan to notice that Rhiannon was avoiding him and spending time with Dammon. He just couldn’t figure out why that pissed him off. Why it made his blood pressure rise when the sweat covered Tiefling running up to her with a smile on his face, as he had be toiling away fixing some contraption. The smile on her face as Dammon approached her swooping in picking up her books, offering to walk her to her next class, it made him. . .confused. . .envious?
Whatever it was he didn’t like it. He liked the idea of that smile at him though. . .
———————
Part 2 ||
Tagging: @viennacherries @darkurgetrash (let me know if you don’t want to be tagged)
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freesidexjunkie · 1 year ago
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Fic Masterlist
Growing list. I've taken an accidental years long hiatus from writing, so bear with me. Under construction or w/e.
AO3 at freesidexjunkie. Most places at freesidexjunkie or some variant tbh.
One Shot pieces:
Gortash (Baldurs Gate 3): (can also find my posts about them tagged as #maevris)
- if i could hold you for a minute: tumblr; AO3 — complete, but part for a longer upcoming fic
- Trouble: tumblr; AO3 — complete/stand alone (at least for now, doesn't fit the plot of my longer fic but the brainworms demanded it)
- to have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you: tumblr; AO3 — maybe complete, maybe I'll expand. idk.
- stay with me: tumblr; AO3 — sickeningly sweet follow up to the previous fic
- all for her: tumblr; AO3 — inspired by the linked post about gortash's robes being too big on durge
- tell me you're mine: tumblr; AO3 — jealous, needy Gortash smut
Long reads:
Solas (Dragon Age)
- Din'an All Elgara (Death of the Sun): AO3, tagging #sarissa and #din'an all elgara — WIP
Rolan (Baldur's Gate)
- First Light: AO3; tumblr (Ch1), tagging #rhiannon and other assorted rolan tags — WIP
Crack fic (do not expect anything "good" or serious)
Nick Valentine X MacCready (Fallout 4)
- Nuts & Bolts - FFN, AO3
Scott Howl X Damien LaVey (Monster Prom)
- Hell Hath No Furries (except Damien's boyfriend) - AO3
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freesidexjunkie · 8 months ago
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I want to know more about First Light and the Nathaniel Howe x Cousland fics please!
!!! Bestie you've made my whole morning asking about Nathaniel Howe. I love him dearly and I never get to be feral about him enough 🥺
I'm gonna start with First Light to be in order. First of all, I never looked twice at Rolan til adorabLE fics and characters for him like JUNIPER(!!) started popping up on my dash so thank you for helping indoctrinate me, 10/10 having a great time 💕 I originally wanted to write a scattered Rolanmance story of disconnected chronological scenes to build their story for Nanowrimo, and I had the whole fic plotted out and worked on by late October before school spiraled out of control and the burnout made me think all my words were garbage. The bulk of the story is slotted for act 3 scenes, but I've got a few scenes for act 2 that may or may not have varying levels of spice (we'll see what the characters feel up to ig). I see act 2 as them being relieved to find the other alive and very much getting closer to each other, but terrified to put a name on it in case the worst happens. "Yeah we are inseparable and glued together and if anything happened to him I'd probably lose every last strand of my mind but it's like. lol probably nothing serious right?" Act 3 feels more like finally being able to settle into each other without as much constantly worrying about if they'll even survive this. It's the end of the road for Rolan and it's the most stability Rhiannon has had for weeks, so now's as good a time as any to pursue a real relationship rather than stolen moments. I have plans for them to both awkwardly dance around the topic and hope the other will bring it up first; also for lots of cute teasing, some sibling antics etc. I'm super excited to get into it, but I feel like the Veilguard announcements are making me give myself a deadline for the Solavellan fic first. It's already got a whole notebook dedicated to it tho and plenty written down, so it won't get lost in the shuffle, I promise!!
And for Nathaniel....my sweet precious baby boy who I fell in love with at first sight.... my first DAO playthru ever was human noble, and I was faithfully married to the king of Fereldan but enemies to lovers has been my kryptonite since Jane Austen first got her hooks into me with P&P. I've put a lot of thought into the Cousland I would pair with him. I think the age gap between them in canon is about ~10 years, but fuck it we snip and shape canon to our own whims. Elissa Cousland (I really like the default name and I won't apologize) ~21 and Nathaniel around ~28. The Howes and the Couslands were already very familiar with each other, so Elissa and Delilah (Nate's sister) were inseparable best friends growing up. Elissa very much had a childhood crush on Nathaniel, in the "younger sister's annoying friend" kind of way that was absolutely not reciprocated. When Arl Howe says in the intro "my son was asking about you" she definitely gets major butterflies until she realizes he means Thomas. She definitely asks about Nathaniel but Bryce diplomatically shoos her away since the whole uh. Disowned and cast out thing. Not knowing how much the rest of the family is involved in Howe's betrayal and not being able to reach out to them at all really hurts her. In Awakening she's definitely intimately familiar with the castle as she grew up as a semi permanent fixture there. She doesn't hear much about the rest of the family other than that Thomas died in the blight; she's holding out hope for Delilah and Nathaniel tho. When he shows up spitting venom and letting her know in no uncertain terms that he blames her for everything.....it hurts ngl. But she conscripts him because she cannot be the person to condemn him to death. She absolutely cannot.
From there, finding Delilah alive is kinda the turning point in his anger and hatred. "You better be nice to my best friend" and "so. She's still making puppy dog eyes at you huh." Kinda thing. I have a plan for going to visit Castle Highever to fix a problem and Elissa standing up for him to Fergus, etc etc. I have so many scenes planned that are heavily enemies to lovers and heavily comfort/angst kinda stuff. I swear I'll write it one day. Thank you for letting me ramble about him tho, I owe you a life debt 🥺🥺
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