#fic:wild winds

[little-paperboat]

Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle

It's here! *rings the bell* It's hereeeeee

First chapter of my Rolan x Tav slow burn series has been published!! The series is called I Burned My Fingers On This Forbidden Fire, and the first part is titled Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle. The second chapter is already written and will drop on Sunday 💜

I am super excited for this journey, I hope you'll like it too! Since this chapter is about 3K words long, I feel like it's difficult to put on tumblr, but I'll post an abstract under the cut.

• Read on AO3

Tav meets Rolan at the Grove. She’s nothing but trouble and he’s a pompous prick, so why in the Realms would they want anything to do with each other? (or, Tav will not take shit from anyone (even if they have pretty flaming eyes))

Rolan scoffed, and Tav glared at him. What was his problem? Cal and Lia seemed nice enough, but apparently their brother had not been granted any of their social skills.

“It’s obvious you are no mage - or not a skilled one, at least. My Thunderwave would’ve made quick work of these goblins.” From the corner of her eyes, Tav saw Lia roll her eyes and Cal hide a grin, but she kept her attention on Rolan, silently assessing him.

“If you say so.” She had not meant to sound so dry, especially considering the circumstances, but she found his arrogance off-putting. She was trying to be nice and helpful and to expand his lifespan, but he seemed intent on being as haughty as possible - and they had only just met.

“Oh, but I do say so.”

Prick. He was practically glowing with pride. Good thing for her that the other mage she had met earlier, Gale, wasn’t half as insufferable - otherwise she’d have thrown him off a cliff already.

“Then fighting them won’t be any problem for you?” Tav suggested instead, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. Meeting his gaze, she noticed that his eyes were golden circles of flames, lit against the darkest black. She had never met anyone with eyes like this - blazing, unique.

Pretty.

Pretty annoying.

“I didn’t want to leave out of cowardice, if that’s what you’re implying, but I don’t expect a human to understand. I need to get to Baldur’s Gate as soon as possible. This,” he waved his arms at the surroundings, “is a tremendous waste of time. This place is lost.”

“Why are you in such a rush anyway?”

“Because,” and Tav could’ve sworn he straightened his shoulders, “You are looking at Lorroakan’s newest apprentice.”

She couldn’t hide her surprise, which he mistook for admiration.

“Yes, that Lorroakan - the greatest wizard in Baldur’s Gate.” And he sounded so proud, for a brief moment, he gave her a genuine smile.

“I’ve heard of him,” she offered cautiously. “He has an odd reputation.” Rolan opened his mouth, but she cut him before he could object. “Difficult, actually. Word is, he’s a bit of a cad. Maybe my companion Gale would know more…?” But Gale was nowhere to be found.

“Mere gossip fueled by jealousy, I’m sure. I don’t need anyone else’s opinion - trust me, I would not settle for any less than the greatest master.”

And just like that, the smug asshole was back. Fine. It was fine. Lorroakan was an idiot for all she knew. Granted, she never had an interest in magic nor a proficiency in it, and she had far better things to do at balls and parties than to chit-chat with the recluse wizard who rarely graced the public with his appearances. She usually left these matters to others - her parents, her more ambitious friends who maybe sought a husband of a grander reputation. But in all the years she’d lived in the same city as him, Lorroakan of Ramazith’s Tower had never managed to become particularly well-liked. Although, if word of his talent had reached Elturel, maybe he was good for something after all? And if that Rolan here, with his own arrogance and his obvious contempt for humans and non-mages was so eager to become his apprentice, maybe they were a good fit - in lack of manners if nothing else.

“I see. I’m sure you’ll get along perfectly well. Looking forward to seeing you all maged-up in the City, then.”

“If we ever make it.” Right. If they ever made it. “But if we do, I can assure you - in years to come, Tav, you will boast of this meeting. Few can match me in either magic or talent.” Her name acknowledged on his tongue danced in the air, and she was quite sure no one had ever said it like he did. Like it was a promise. A bet on the future. She repressed a shiver and cleared her throat instead.

“And modesty, I’m sure.” He glared at her, his features morphing back in a deep frown.

“I’ve worked myself to the bone for this. My name will be known far and wide. As for you…” He gave her a look of contempt, his flaming eyes lingering on her face for a second too long. “Good day to you.” He turned around and walked away, effectively ending their conversation, going back to his siblings - leaving Tav behind, horrified.

The nerve! The audacity! How dare he dismiss her like that! No, no - she was not about to be brushed off by a second-rate wizard who was all talk and no show. No one talked to her like that. She was the one who dismissed people, not the other way around. She was a valued member of the good Baldurian society! People loved talking to her, she was the pride of her family - yes, her family was owed respect! Her family was… well, nowhere to be seen.

Right.

They had not been in months, actually. Not even when she… - ugh. No, better not go down this rabbit hole again. Not now, at least. With a heavy sigh, she took a moment to compose herself, swallowing down her frustration, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to calm down. She couldn’t spend her energy on getting all worked up because someone had disrespected her. There were more pressing issues at hand: a tadpole in her head, refugees to save, and goblins to kill. The rest didn’t matter.

(...)

— Read the whole thing on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika

[little-paperboat]

Reblogging with a little something from the first chapter of forbidden fire, coming soon* to an AO3 near you 😌

I'm a little too tired to tag right now but if you (yes, you) (yes! you!!) are reading this, consider yourself tagged if you're willing! 🩷

(*not more than a week, I promise!)

“And what are you doing?” 

The deep, velvet voice of Rolan cut through the awkward silence like a knife, his blunt question hitting one of the precise spots she was hoping to avoid tonight. He was facing her, and she found it hard to hold the intensity of his gaze. 

Tav took her glass of wine in hand, swirling the liquid deliberately slowly inside the metal cup, her tongue wetting her lips before answering. 

Composed. Stable.

“Politics, I suppose. I’ve been invited to be an advisor at the Council, in my quality of native Baldurian and, well, Hero of the Gate and all that.” She frowned. “But it’s been complicated. There’s still so much to rebuild and to sort out. Half the patriars who left before the battle still haven’t come back, and those who aren’t dead are trying to clear their name from any involvement with Gortash. There’s an open war between the Council members to find out how to punish the traitors and stuff. It’s all very tedious, honestly.” 

She was met with a murmur of approval and swallowed the anxiety that pricked her throat. 

She half-hated that they believed her so easily. 

“Sounds like an important job,” said someone - maybe Dammon? She couldn’t tell, her attention still focused on Rolan who didn’t comment on her reply, gracing her with his trademark stuck-up expression instead.

A memory stirred; of him declaring them friends, warm and grateful.

Huh. 

Then why was he acting so distant and weird? 

“Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta do it,” she replied finally, downing the rest of her wine, hoping to move on to the next topic. 

Of course, she was glad to do this job. She was doing exactly what she was expected to do - her entire upbringing had prepared her for this very life. To smile and mingle with other aristocrats and give her opinion on everything, no matter how out of touch she was. It didn’t even matter that she had literal field experience now, and that she was practically overqualified for the position.

It was what she wanted. It was exactly what she wanted, what she had ached for all those months ago back on the road - to be dressed in fine silks and enjoying the refinements of a noble’s life. What else would they have her do, hm? Oh, right, maybe tending to the wounded, caring for those who had lost their loved ones in the fight? How absurd! She wasn’t a healer, and she wasn’t a charity worker. She had held enough dying hands over the last months to know she was ill-suited for the job. Besides, what could she say to someone whose partner turned into an illithid? Sorry, I tried my best to prevent it? Nonsense. She came to the same conclusion when it came to rebuilding the city, or helping to find the remaining bodies of the unfortunate victims and giving them a proper burial. Having the Hero of the Gate saunter around saying flat words wasn’t the kind of publicity she wanted for herself: it was only natural to stay out of it.

— Liked it? Read the prologues on AO3 :)

(c) divider by @/saradika

WIP WHENEVER WOOOOO

thank you @lemonsrosesandlavender for the tag <3

sending tags forward to @little-paperboat @darkurgetrash @honeybee-bard if you want to 🌸

from what will probably be the first chapter of the final part of acoh, some sad wet cat hours for our least favourite man *heart eyes*

It’s fine, he tells himself as he leaves for work before Lathander’s even peeked his eyes open. He tells himself the same thing as he downs flat beer and stale bread in the evening before crashing onto the sheetless mattress crammed in the corner of the small living room. It’s not like he’s made himself worthy of anything better. 

The moth-eaten blanket only warms him enough to not shiver in the draughty flat. As many nights before, he drifts off into an uneasy sleep. He feels the crippling fear as they realise they’re outnumbered. He sees Brian’s guts spilled by dull and rusty goblin blades. He hears Liam’s screams as he finds out the others have turned around. Most of all, he feels the guilt as he wakes up, alive and fine. 

Days turn into weeks and weeks into months but to Aradin it might be minutes, it might be an eternity in the blurry routine of constantly being mere inches from the end of his rope. Except on this day, someone actually breaks the usual silence at the dinner table. 

“We’re going out tonight,” Remira says as a matter of fact. “The three of us.” 

Aradin sighs. Remi looks to Barth for support. The bastards must’ve planned this. 

“We’ve had enough of yer moping bullshite,” Barth says. “Y’need t‘ave a bit o’fun, mate.” 

And perhaps they’re right because Aradin doesn’t even have it in himself to argue with them about it. At least he’ll be able to down enough fireswill to get comfortably numb. Maybe he’ll even get drunk enough to pass out into a dreamless slumber. 

“Fine,” Aradin snarls before chewing down the rest of his dinner. 

“And get that sorry excuse for a beard off yer face,” Barth adds with a grin. 

Aradin glares, he had never planned on growing a beard. Nor does he possess the hair coverage to have one either. He’s just been neglecting it as much as, well, everything.

[little-paperboat]

What We Owe To Each Other (2&3)

HELLO ROLAN NATION

I come bearing gifts for the very patient readers and to make amends for my three-months break, namely 7,000 words split into two chapters, a fight, a hug, and lots of emotional rollercoasters.

I am very sad that it took me so long to finish this part of the story, but I am very relieved that it's finally out - I can now focus on the main story and bring more Tav and Rolan into everyone's lives. I'm not too sure when I will be able to post next, maybe in a week or two, but I will let you know. You can follow the tag “series:forbidden fire” here on tumblr to not miss when it comes out! :)

In the meantime, a little sneak peek under the cut, as usual.

It's good to be back :)

Read on AO3 (2 & 3/3)

Read Part 1: Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2/2)

Read Part 2: Through Shadows To The Edge Of Night (3/3)

If the sun failed to rise today, Rolan didn’t think he’d care.

It was still dark outside when he woke up from another sleepless night; his body sore and aching, heart barely beating anymore, the overwhelming bitterness of desperation the only tangible proof that he was still alive.

His fingers grazed his cheekbone and he flinched at the pain, a sharp hiss leaving his lips. If Lorroakan kept beating him like this, he’d surrender his last breath before the next tenday.

Another day meant another torment, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to simply take it. To say, yes master, sorry master. To keep up the charade, to pretend that he couldn’t break Lorroakan in two by snapping his fingers. Day after day he felt it: his magic growing, pulsing; yearning to break free and to flood every cell of his body. It would surge and soar, a blinding wave of power that would annihilate everything around him, calling the Weave to his aid so intensely that Mystra herself would have no choice but to command him for it. A part of him feared this— if the dam were to break, he’d be pulled under the tidal wave too and would drown in it, overwhelmed. But a part of him craved it: to tame the storm and to unleash his rage, to ride the high of his wrath and take revenge on the tyrant.

Rolan had never been a violent man. Truth be told, he despised violence: one should know how to behave. To resort to fists was most unbecoming of a wizard and any self-respecting gentleman: if he ever fought, it was out of utmost necessity - to protect his siblings, or himself. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he had had a few altercations back in Elturel, but there had been no other choice. Once to defend Cal from a vengeful human who assaulted him, blaming the Descent on his infernal heritage. And before that, when he had been a child himself with no one to look after him. The memory of brutality he experienced back then had never fully disappeared, even after so many years; faded but never forgotten. Now, it was back in full force, and in him stirred a dark, maddening urge to burn.

He sighed, anxiety tightening his chest, his unsettling thoughts adding to his unrest. Mornings like this, he wondered what was the point of it all; to walk out there, take the spot that he hated so behind the wooden counter to let the world see his shame, for his master wouldn’t let him heal nor conceal. If they ask, you’ll tell them the truth: that you are a careless, worthless apprentice who should learn his place before he can pretend to learn real magic.

The humiliations blended together: fresh bruises replaced the older ones, and the light in his eyes dimmed with every rising sun.

But surely he could endure a little longer.

Just a little longer. For Cal. For Lia. To show them he was brave, to prove to them that he would still make it.

With a groan he got up, taking off his nightclothes with care to not reopen the wounds on his ribs. Despite his pain he refused to give up and kept putting on a set of respectable nightclothes after sunset, out of principle, because it still mattered to him. Whatever was left of his dignity, he had to preserve it.

Yes. He could endure a little longer. If anything, because Tav had asked him to.

Tav.

Annoying, meddlesome, infuriating Tav, who showed up out of the blue to turn his world upside down once again.

Frustrating, vexing, obstinate Tav, who couldn’t take “no” for an answer and bent the rules of the universe to do as she pleased.

He used to think he hated her; now he couldn’t remember why. But maybe it would be better if he still did, for hate was such an easy emotion to feed and such a great outlet for all his sorrows. He could never do that anymore though; not when she was the reason why he was still alive and his family too. Not when she had been so kind while he had been so rough, not when she had made a point to prove him wrong twice. Not when she had planted the seeds of hope back in his heart, to which he held onto with all his strength with a desperation he didn’t know he had.

A few days, at most.

With every sunrise he waited to see her walking back in the shop, fierce and proud, with her signature shit-eating grin and that lovely pout of hers.

Back for him, somehow, to save the world and his sorry self at the same time.

But every sunset dashed his expectations. How long were a few days supposed to be?

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika

[little-paperboat]

What We Owe To Each Other (1)

Calling all the Empire! I'm super happy to share that I've finally published third part of the "Forbidden Fire" series (with a heavy delay, but it's here) 💜

6,738 words later (!) I'm finally satisfied with this first chapter 🤓 And the lesson learned is? I really do have to write every day, even if it's just editing a paragraph or 50 words, because otherwise I find it super difficult to get back into it in a way that feels natural and doesn't require an entire re-write and an extra week of work 🥲

For this next part, Tav and her crew arrive in Baldur's Gate with a lot of hopes; unfortunately, reality is much bleaker than anticipated...

They have finally reached Baldur’s Gate, but the trials that wait for them are far from over. Tav and Rolan meet again; under unexpected circumstances, they both yearn for what they cannot have. (or, at the end of the world, there is hope yet.)

I'm REALLY excited for the Sorcerous Sundries arc of the fic because I've been thinking about it for suchhhh a long time ; there are a few scenes in particular that I was dying to put on paper and now it's happening :D Can't wait to see what you think! x

You can follow the tag "series:forbidden fire" here on tumblr to not miss the next updates 🌸 And as usual, abstract under the cut!

Read on AO3 (1/2)

Read Part 1: Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2/2)

Read Part 2: Through Shadows To The Edge Of Night (3/3)

They had reached Baldur’s Gate at last. 

Upon seeing the city lights beyond the walls, Tav had almost cried, overwhelmed by the sweet relief of survival, yearning for what lay below her, for the life that was just at her fingertips; yet unable to find herself at peace. The triumph of the journey left a bitter taste in her mouth, one of ashes and blood. So much had changed since she had left the Gate, her life torn to shreds and pieced back together hastily. It had little to do with the beautiful tapestry that had been woven for her even before her birth, made of threads of gold and silver softly shimmering under the chandelier. Instead, it was now rough and uneven to the touch, dried blood staining the fabric that displayed burns and torn holes in several places.

Going through the Shadow-Cursed Lands had marred her mind, body and soul beyond recognition; the gnarled trees and horrors from the void forcefully stealing parts of her that she knew she would never get back. 

She hadn’t slept once through the night since their encounter with Ketheric Thorm. In the pitch black dark of her tent, she still heard the clattering of bones. Whenever she closed her eyes, a sea of putrid blood and the malevolent aura of the Lord of Bones manifested before her, his giant scythe slashing through her body.

She had almost died then; the cold grip of death tightening around her and choking her, ferocious and famished. She had only survived thanks to her companions’ bravery and tenacity - but the price had been paid. Things could never go back to what they were before; yet she hoped, she prayed, foolishly maybe, that walking in the city would allow her to find her missing parts, to piece herself back together. She longed to see the elegant buildings of the Upper City again, to enjoy the familiar and rich fragrance of the rich ladies’ perfumes, to finally sleep in silk sheets and comfortable beds. Maybe her family would have them all, the estate big enough to accommodate the whole gang plus the two druids, the owlbear cub and Scratch.

If her family was still alive, of course.  

And maybe… maybe she’d even see Rolan again. 

She would never admit it, especially not to herself, but his memory was what she clung to in the darkest hour of the night, his flaming eyes burning brighter than her fears. To fend off the nightmares she’d evoke the softness of his voice, the smile he had given her at Last Light Inn. Deep down, she felt guilty: his disinterest was painfully obvious, and she was pretty sure it was morally wrong to lust after a guy who wasn’t interested. 

But she couldn’t help it. 

She couldn’t forget him.

Maybe if she saw him again in the city, it could bring her closure. By now he surely had his apprenticeship, and who knows, maybe he found himself an attractive partner to go with it. She only needed to ask to be sure - to hear the final word that he was not into her; and then it would be over. Then she’d force her mind to move on and find someone else to fixate on. 

All she had to do was to reach the Upper City. 

Anything after that would be so easy, and soon, it would all be over - with or without the tiefling wizard. 

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika

[little-paperboat]

Through Shadows To The Edge Of Night (3)

Here we goooo! Final chapter of "Through Shadows" is out, one day earlier than planned! 🧡 I'm super excited, it was so much fun to write! It's over 6,600 words too!! Twice as long as my usual chapters, which I didn't expect initially, but during the editing process I chose to merge the ending dialogue with another one that I had written for a later chapter, as I found it made more sense.

I'm glad that Tav and Rolan are finally having more interaction... and a little misunderstanding I was craving to write since the beginning, including that *one* scene that I imagined all those months ago and made me want to write this fic 😏

I hope you'll like it! The next part of the series will finally bring us to Baldur's Gate and to Sorcerous Sundries, and well, who knows what will happen then 👀 I'm planning to release it on next Saturday. You can follow the tag "series:forbidden fire" here on tumblr to not miss it when it comes out 🌸

And of course, I'm so grateful for all the comments, kudos and support! The Holy Rolan Empire is truly a gem, you guys are wonderful and it's super heartwarming to be part of such a kind community with so many talented artists and writers 🥹 ❤️

Read on AO3 (3/3)

Read Part 1: Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2/2)

She took a step towards him.

“Rolan?”

This broke him out of his stupor, his eyebrows perking up, frowning, and finally coming closer. Had he always been this tall?  

“Tav,” he replied sternly. 

Her name rolled off his tongue with ease, and something surged within her; wishing that he’d say it more often, whisper it against her skin, his lips caressing the shell of her ears— Wait, what? No! She had done so much for him, against her better judgement even, and he had been nothing but rude and a pain in the ass. No: she wouldn’t be so easily swayed. The ball was in his court, and her expectations were high. She wouldn’t be distracted by nonsense. 

She crossed her arms, unimpressed, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

“You brought them back,” he said finally, his eyes finding hers, a hint of hesitation colouring his deep voice. Once again, she found herself hypnotised by the golden flames dancing against the moonless sky of his eyes. “I thought my entire family was dead, and you… you brought us back together.” His voice was soft, almost emotional. She didn’t even know he could speak like this.

“Don’t mention it,” she croaked out. What was wrong with her? Gods, she needed to get a grip, now.  

“You have no cause to be humble. You did the impossible and you went out of your way to help us when most people would’ve left us to die - or worse.” 

Maybe she liked it better when he yelled at her, after all. At least it didn’t make her heart beat so fast. 

There was a pause, but before she could speak, he continued.

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise, and you helped anyway.” She fought back a smile, biting the inside of her cheeks to physically stop her lips from stretching. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. And, thank you.”

Was this real? Was this really happening? She tilted her head up at him and wished that she didn’t imagine his own gaze flickering to her lips. 

“Why are you being nice?” she asked in a hushed voice. 

“Because you were. I still don’t quite understand why you decided to help us - to help me, but you did.” He seemed to remember something, and handed her a small purse. “It’s only right that you get something in return.” 

A bag of gold sat in the palm of his hand, heavy and full. She paled, suddenly ill at ease. Was he giving her his savings? 

“Rolan, no. I can’t accept it.” It was absurd. Actually, it was offensive.  

His eyes darkened. 

“No? Is that not good enough for you?”

“On the contrary, it’s way too much. Really, I… I don’t need gold. I don’t, I swear.” 

She didn’t know how to explain to him that the sum he was handing her was probably less than her weekly allowance as a teen. 

Not that she was the kind of selfless person who refused to be paid for her services. Quite the opposite, actually: half her life so far had been dedicated to finding ways of getting and spending money, without any concern in the world for those who didn’t have any.  

But, well. Being catapulted in the middle of a refugee camp without any gold piece to spare had somewhat altered her perspective, and now she did feel bad about taking money from people in need when she knew her own coffers were still overflowing at home.

“I don’t need a reward,” she continued. “You keep it, for you, and Lia and Cal, for when—” 

“Take it, Tav.” He cut her, annoyance sharp in his voice. Clearly, he would obviously feel beyond insulted if she refused it, but at the same time, she really didn’t need it. Although, it could benefit the group, if only temporarily…

She chewed on her bottom lip, indecisive, before reluctantly taking the coin purse from him, swearing to herself that she’d find a way to give it back somehow. Her obedience seemed to please him, and he gave her a satisfied smirk that ignited a fire in her belly, a violent desire coursing through her veins. 

She wanted to know how his lips would feel against hers, how his body would react to her touch; to see pleasure etched over his handsome features and to hear him say all those nice things again, and then some. To see him happy, pleased; to make him lose his composure and show him how good it would feel to not be a stuck-up prick.  

She wanted to kiss him - she really did. 

And she wanted it now, even if he hated her. 

She had dealt with worse than that. 

“I didn’t tell Cal and Lia about what happened,” she said instead, inching just a bit closer, batting her eyelashes just so - giving him that one sultry look that always got her tangled in bedsheets under an hour. 

“I know,” he said with a strained smile. 

“You’re welcome,” she teased.   

He let out a breathy laugh.

“I thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.” 

A glint of mischief burned in his eyes and she felt herself smirk, the flames of desire burning brighter. Oh, she was greedy alright - all she needed was a sign that he wasn’t just being polite, something, anything to let her know that he was also curious about her, and she would show him exactly just how greedy she could be.

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika

[little-paperboat]

forbidden fire • update/delay

Hi! I apologize for the long delay but the next part of "forbidden fire" won't be published before next week-end (15/06) 😔

I was away last week and didn't write at all, which changed my rhythm and mood and now I'm struggling to get back into it, and to like what I had written for this part 😬 (also allergies are taking me doooown, the brain fog/tiredness is really intense and not helping at all lol)

But hopefully in a week I'll have this all sorted out! 🌸

As a little treat tho I can tell you that the title of the next part will be called "What We Owe To Each Other" and it'll be in two chapters ❤️

Stay tuned and long live the Rolan Empire x

[little-paperboat]

Through Shadows To The Edge Of Night

Part 2 of my Rolan x Tav slow-burn series is hereeee! Through Shadows To The Edge of Night takes us to the Last Light Inn, where Tav meets Rolan again and... well, things are not exactly playing out the way she thought it would.

I also wanted to say that I was blown away by all the positive feedback I received on the "Wild Winds" chapters, the kudos and the comments! It was very encouraging, the Holy Rolan Empire really is the best <3

I hope that you will like what's coming as well 🧡 As usual, little sneak peek under the cut. The next chapter will be uploaded next Monday most likely!

Read on AO3

Read Part 1: Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2/2)

Tav and her companions have finally reached Last Light Inn hoping for safe haven, but all she finds there are a grieving drunk Tiefling and the overwhelming urge to make things right. (or, Tav understands that her actions have consequences and Rolan finds that truly hating someone is not as simple as it sounds.)

“Rolan?” 

He turned around in one swift movement, and she was taken aback by the look in his flaming eyes. Vicious.  

“Oh, it’s you,” he snarled. “I’d recognise that self-righteous tone anywhere.” She recoiled as if he had hit her but he ignored her, instead going back to his drink, shoulders slumped and words slurred. “If you’re here to save the day again, you’re a little late this time.” 

The knots in her stomach twisted into something uglier, hurtful, and she felt an overwhelming wave of panic wash over her. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

“Rolan what’s wrong? Can I help?” 

If looks could kill, she would’ve been dead on the spot. Rage flamed in his eyes and she took a step back as he addressed her, his voice dripping with anger, his words too loud in the silence of the inn - I’m only here because you “helped” me and my family. Her head was pounding, her heart racing, but he would not relent. His blame felt like an acidic burn, corroding her skin, rotting her bones. You had other ideas. Cal and Lia were taken in by your crap. Her fault - a ruthless accusation, again and again. He leaned closer to her. The alcohol on his breath was strong, and worrying dark circles were blooming under his eyes. 

"You convinced them to play hero and now they’re gone! If you hadn’t filled their head with all that self-righteous crap at the Grove, none of this would have happened!” His voice cracked under the weight of his grief and she brought a trembling hand to her mouth, fighting the nausea. Shit. Shit. She hadn’t meant to- she never wanted…  All words and excuses flashed through her head, but he didn’t stop, and she didn’t speak.

“You know what the worst part is? They liked you. They looked up to you. And look at where it got them! They’re dead for all I know, they’re dead and I… and you…” She clumsily attempted to put her hand on his shoulder, but he slapped her away ferociously, sharp teeth bared like an animal cornered. “Don’t,” he growled. 

She hadn’t cried since the day of the nautiloid crash, a million years ago, but she very well felt like the tears would just burst out of her now, filling her lungs, drowning her to death. She could barely breathe - yet she forced the words out, to say something, anything, because she couldn’t bear the way he was looking at her. 

“Rolan I’m so sorry, I didn’t know - I’ll get them back, I prom…” 

“No! They are my responsibility!” he roared, the grip on his tankard tightening so much he spilled his wine on his pristine robes. “Enough of your excuses and brilliant plans. You go save the world, or your own arse, or whatever it is you do - just get out of my sight. I’ll fix this.” 

He turned around, his back resolutely facing her while she stood there, helpless, on the verge of throwing up or crying - or both. Fuck. Her head spun and she started walking aimlessly until her legs gave out, finally crumbling on the floor outside the Inn. Luckily there was no one around, and she crawled into a corner, limbs trembling while the tides of panic washed over her senses.

Rolan was right. 

She hadn’t meant to create this mess. None of this was supposed to happen. No one was supposed to have been inspired by her - not for this, at least. 

In her head, she pictured Cal and Lia’s lifeless bodies, half buried in the ground like the other tieflings, mangled, mutilated, their last dying thought being that they could be brave like her, not knowing that it was all an act, of which she just claimed the credit. 

(...)

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika

[little-paperboat]

Through Shadows To The Edge Of Night (2)

Chapter 2 of Through Shadows to the Edge of Night is finally here! I'm so sorry for the wait - I fell sick and felt too tired to write or edit, and on top of that I found that chapter particularly difficult to write (when it sounded so easy in my head!). I struggled a bit with the english, with the action scene, and with making the different bits fit together. But I hope that you will like it nonetheless! At least we're seeing a bit more of Gale and Wyll this time.

I'm hoping to publish the next and final chapter next Saturday, with the conclusion of the Shadow-Cursed Lands and the much awaited (on my side at least hehe) reunion between Rolan and Tav post-rescue. Let's see how it goes!

Sneak peak of the current chapter under the cut, as usual :)

And thanks again for all the kudos and the positive comments, it's been really heartwarming and a fantastic motivation to keep writing x

Read on AO3 (2/3)

Read Part 1: Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2/2)

Going back into the wild was as nightmarish as she had imagined. They had agreed to go out without waking up the others - recovering Rolan first was a priority. Neither Gale nor Wyll had asked any questions, but she had nonetheless come up with a flimsy reasoning of him being powerful enough to help the Inn stand in case it was attacked. It was not untrue either: she heard someone mentioning that he saved the kids’ lives during the ambush. Still, every minute of him out there drunk and alone increased his likelihood of dying, and she didn’t want his death on her conscience. In the grand scheme of things, she could deal with being the indirect cause for the other tieflings’ misfortune, but if Rolan of all people died because he felt she had provoked him into fixing “her” mess, she’d never hear the end of it, from his ghost or her own inner voice. 

Gale and Wyll were walking next to her, holding flaming torches, looking for any sign of life. Wyll was not a ranger, yet his adventuring had granted him some tracking skills that were now proving invaluable. He had elbowed her pretty hard in the ribs when she started yelling Rolan’s name in the dark, shushing her that this was not how one was going to find a missing person in a hostile territory. Tav still thought that it would’ve been faster than crouching to follow faint footsteps on the ground, but she was too tired to argue. She sorely missed the warmth of the bed and the embrace of the crude blankets: instead it was the silence that weighed on her, suffocating, overwhelming - every shadow a foe, every movement a threat. In the dead of the night, she was wondering if they’d ever find him. How long had it been? How far could he have gone? And what if they were already too late?  

“Detono! ” 

Suddenly, a shout in the night, then a burst of light - they rushed towards the sound to find Rolan circled by shadows, their necrotic energy weakening him with each passing moment. Before the logical part of her could strategize, the careless side of her took over and ran towards Rolan and his attackers, sword and light swinging in both hands. 

“Get back!” Wyll was close behind, Eldritch Blasts firing from his fingers; in the distance she heard Gale’s voice invoke a flurry of fireballs.

“Duck!” Someone grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, pushing her - she felt a bolt of heat pass her by, and her teeth punctured her inner cheek as her head collided on the ground. She barely registered that the blood she was tasting was her own before something yanked her backwards, a death chill gripping in her bones. A faceless monster was dragging her towards the trees - reflexively, she thrusted her blade in the thing’s head - it shrieked and recoiled and she got back up, focusing on her breathing like Gale had taught her.

“Ignis!” The flaming figure turned to ash, and she ran back to her companions to find the three men caught between two large shadow creatures. She could see Gale struggling to focus, his grip on his spell less assured than usual, and Wyll’s blade not quite as deadly as it ought to be. Shit. She had foolishly assumed that she would’ve been the weaker link, but if neither of her friends had slept or rested last night, they were also bound to make mistakes.

And mistakes would prove deadly.

If only Shadowheart had been with them! She knew how to repel the darkness, she could’ve engulfed them in her radiance, she— wait! Her radiance! Frantically searching in the bag tied to her belt, her fingers closed around a bottle - light, fragile, and perfect to throw: Holy Water. She took one step back and threw the vial, which described a perfect arc in the air before exploding at the feet of Rolan, all shards of glass and radiant water. Enough to momentarily stun the monsters, enough for her to come rushing with her sword and her flaming torch; enough finally add one decisive number to their forces.

In an instant it was over. After all the yelling and clawing, a strange stillness fell over them again. 

“Rolan!” She turned towards him, her heart racing. He looked unhurt, at least, he looked-

“Gods damn it! I can do nothing right! Not a damn thing!” His voice broke and Tav stayed back, panting. Her ankle hurt - everything hurt - and she could feel the blood pooling in her mouth. For some reason, that was enough to make her snap, her concerns for his state abruptly overrun. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“I was looking for Cal and Lia, what else?” He spat, furious. “Instead I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue, from you of all bloody people!” 

She let out a grunt - what was his fucking problem? Why couldn’t he act like a normal person? 

“Oh yeah? Well, sorry that I didn’t leave you to fucking die like an idiot!” She yelled the last word with more venom than intended, but she couldn’t help it. She was so done with his bullshit, with his attitude, with his fucking stubbornness that almost killed them all. “Sorry my friends here risked their lives to save your ass!” She took one step towards him, but felt two warm hands pat her shoulders, gently holding her back.

“What Tav means is that we’re glad you’re safe”, said Wyll, ever gentlemanly.

“And that it’s admirable that you were trying to save your family”, added Gale, very politely.

“He knows what I mean” Tav hissed back, crossing her arms and challenging the tiefling to escalate the argument further. To her surprise he deflated, his arrogance melting like snow in the sun. Laying down his armour, giving up; all things she did not expect him to do.

She tried to repress the involuntary pang of guilt that bloomed in her chest. Fucking wizard. 

“I failed them again.” His flaming gaze met her and she was taken aback at the distress that shone in his pretty eyes; at his heartbreak, his mistake. Something equally agonising stirred inside her in response, yearning to sympathise— no. She pushed back all unwanted thoughts, focusing on her frustration instead - the only thing that mattered right now, though it was becoming harder by the minute to stay mad at him. 

“What good am I if I can’t do this… this one thing?” Fuck. He looked so utterly sad it made her sick. “I’ll return to Last Light… I know when I’m outmatched.” 

“Wait. Gale will accompany you,” she blurted out. 

“I don’t need an escort, I think I can at least walk back on my own.” 

She huffed at his nerve to look outraged at the suggestion. Of course he would. Of - fucking - course. She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling slowly. 

“If I save Cal and Lia and you’re dead outside the Inn because something attacked you…” Her sentence faded in silence, leaving it up to his imagination to fill in the blanks of her threat. She half expected him to agree with her, but he gave a dark chuckle instead.  

“You still don’t get it, do you? Their safety is all that matters.” 

For a moment they glared at each other - bloodied, bruised, pained ; a quiet assessment of their remaining strength; a test, a dare. And there she saw it - under the moonless sky, lost in a horrific wasteland: the look on his handsome face that told her all she needed to know. All the unspoken words that echoed louder in the silence: I don’t care if I die, but they must survive.

She could have slapped him. She could have kissed him. 

Or maybe it was just her own bitterness wishing it had been about her instead.

“Fine. As you wish,” she relented, too tired to fight him. She did get it, though - she got it so much it tore holes in her heart. The only way to move on was to not dwell on it: not now, and hopefully not even later; not even if it made her mean, not even if that quiet resentment gripped her bones and poisoned her mind. “At least take this.” She handed him her torch, somehow intact despite the fight, and a healing potion. He stared at her blankly, a rejection already forming behind his dark eyes. 

“Take it Rolan,” she ordered before he could speak, her tone cold and commanding. Her patience with him was running thin: she would suffer no refusal.

Hesitantly, he grabbed the potion and the torch; his fingers grazed hers, and in his ghost touch she felt his warmth. He nodded curtly then, and without uttering another word, started walking away. 

No one spoke until he was out of sight, until she was sure she didn’t hear any sounds of combat.

“What now?”

“Well,” she said. She could discern the ominous towers of the fortress in the distance, their malicious aura pulling at her curiosity. “Since we’re here, we might as well take a look.” 

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika

[little-paperboat]

Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2)

Second chapter of Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle is up! In which we get in Rolan's head a little bit as he tries to enjoy the Tiefling party without being too grumpy... and almost succeeds. 🔮

I'm very happy that the first part of the series "I Burned My Fingers On This Forbidden Fire" is done; next stop is the Shadow-Cursed Lands, where everything becomes more intense - should be posted on Wednesday :)

• Read chapter 2 on AO3, a little sneak peak under the cut (including a small reference to another one of my favourite (non BG3) ship... will anyone find it? 👀)

“I’m surprised you’re still here though,” Tav added after a silence. If she was annoyed by his reaction, or lack thereof, she didn’t show. “I thought you’d be halfway to Baldur’s Gate by now.” Ah. There she was again. Asking questions, meddling. Was she going to tell him that he should have left? That he was losing time? He cleared his throat, his answer dry.

“I wanted to.” He found her eyes, and instead of meeting defiance, he only saw… something unexpectedly soft. It was rather disturbing. “And we would have been, in another life.” Had you not intervened. “But Cal and Lia were so excited for tonight, I thought it cruel to leave.”

She hummed. “I didn’t think a party under the stars was your idea of fun.” Gods, she was annoying. Didn’t she have other friends to bother? 

“It’s not.” That was completely honest. “But when one is forced amongst the common folk, it helps to lower expectations.” That was less honest - only by a little bit. He was merely borrowing his standing from a near future: in a few days, he would definitely be more than the common folk. 

“Oh, the common folk ?” This time she fully grinned at him, a glint of mischief back in her eyes. She took a step forward - her attitude was back on. “Well, if you ever need a hand getting acquainted with the mighty folk of Baldur’s Gate, you should ask me.” Her words were slightly slurred, and she poked his plastron with a single finger. “You know, you’re not the only powerful acquaintance one should need around here.” She traced the pattern of the silver embodiments, and he took a step back automatically - she was too close and she was too drunk. Unfortunately for him, his back met the surface of the boulder behind him, with nowhere to dodge her overwhelming presence. He could smell the wine on her breath, spot the small beauty mark below her left eye. 

“I’m something of a big name myself, back in the city.” 

“Are you now?” It was his turn to dismiss her claims to conceal his sudden nervousness. Granted, she could look like a lady of noble birth, but between her scars, blooming bruises and her mended clothes, it was hard to tell. “And pray tell, how did a powerful lady such as yourself end up in this shithole?” She was a bad judge of character anyway if she thought he’d come to her for any kind of help, now or later. But his comment seemed to sober her up momentarily. He watched her take a step back, uncertain, and thought she would leave - ha, it was not so funny when others were asking the questions, now, was it? 

“Unfortunate circumstances,” she answered instead. Stubborn girl. She grabbed the bottle from his hands, pouring herself more wine without hesitation. “Like everyone here, I suppose.” A dark chuckle passed her lips. “No one would believe it back home. It’d blow their minds if they saw me.” He met her eyes and was taken aback by the emotion shining in them. 

How could someone go around like this, an open book for anyone to decipher? That was so unusual - it reminded him of Cal, a little bit. Eyes so genuine they told him everything he needed to know. Meanwhile, Lia and himself had learned to harden, to not let their emotions show or get the best of them. He liked to think it was the reason they had managed to survive so well so far. Nothing good came from showing off vulnerability. And yet here she was, letting the bitterness seep into her voice, a touch of anger simmering beneath the surface, a dash of provocation barely colouring her words. Before he could wonder what she meant, the moment was gone and the casualness was back in her tone.

“Oh! Did you know that Gale is teaching me some basic cantrips now?” She looked at him again, and he felt a wave of confusion wash over him. He couldn’t read her at all. In this light, she could almost seem nice, he thought. In this light, she could almost be a hero. “It’s fun. Maybe I’ll be a great mage too, one day.” She winked at him and made a face - and it caught him so off-guard he laughed. A deep laugh rumbling in his chest, echoed by her own, much lighter. 

“The great mage of cantrips?”

“Why not? It has a nice ring to it.”  

Rolan rolled his eyes, shaking the remnants of laughter from his throat; and felt the need to push her just a little bit further.

“Was it my tales of my apprenticeship that inspired you to pursue magic?”

“Yes, obviously, you’re in my every thought.” He almost choked on his wine. “Magic saved my life once, I felt like I could at least give it a try. And Gale is a great teacher, too.”

“I see.”

So that was it, then. The disregard she had for magic was concerning to say the least, and he still didn’t like her, but Rolan found that she was… tolerable, at least when drunk. Maybe if he didn’t push her further, she’d act like a normal person, and then they could part on neutral grounds, which couldn’t hurt, even though they would probably never see each other again. Not that he particularly wanted to, anyway. 

There was another silence, and he found that her company was less awkward than expected - until she tried to grab the bottle again and tripped; instinctively, he caught her right before she fell face first in the dirt, his hands gripping her waist, his tail wrapping around her legs to prevent her fall. Above them, his dancing lights flickered and disappeared - his shift in attention breaking his concentration. 

Zurgan. In the dark, he could still see her face, so close to him, her soft body pressed against his. The most insane thoughts flashed in his mind for the ghost of a second, and he stepped back hastily once he steadied her. She was nothing but trouble, and he didn’t need trouble; he needed safe and he needed reliable, and she wasn’t any of those things. 

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika

[little-paperboat]

It's a sunny saturday early afternoon and I have finally completed the outline for forbidden fire. It looks like we're going on an adventure for about 20 chapters!

It's a little bit overwhelming to see the story laid out like this (it's such a mess! bullet points and key words everywhere! half written dialogues I dreamt about in the shower!), but I'm so excited to start writing and putting this together at last. It was very fun to write the "prologue" (and even this was harder and took much longer than expected) but now, I'm diving into the real stuff 🫡

I've never attempted to write anything that long, so... ooh! Wish me luck! 😌🍀

[dutifullylazybread]

If you haven't had the chance to read @little-paperboat's slow burn for Rolan x Tav, you seriously need to!

The narrative voices established for Rolan and Tav are so strong, and so much fun to read. Their voices made me laugh and then twisted my heart in equal measure.

Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle

It's here! *rings the bell* It's hereeeeee

First chapter of my Rolan x Tav slow burn series has been published!! The series is called I Burned My Fingers On This Forbidden Fire, and the first part is titled Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle. The second chapter is already written and will drop on Sunday 💜

I am super excited for this journey, I hope you'll like it too! Since this chapter is about 3K words long, I feel like it's difficult to put on tumblr, but I'll post an abstract under the cut.

• Read on AO3

Tav meets Rolan at the Grove. She’s nothing but trouble and he’s a pompous prick, so why in the Realms would they want anything to do with each other? (or, Tav will not take shit from anyone (even if they have pretty flaming eyes))

Rolan scoffed, and Tav glared at him. What was his problem? Cal and Lia seemed nice enough, but apparently their brother had not been granted any of their social skills.

“It’s obvious you are no mage - or not a skilled one, at least. My Thunderwave would’ve made quick work of these goblins.” From the corner of her eyes, Tav saw Lia roll her eyes and Cal hide a grin, but she kept her attention on Rolan, silently assessing him.

“If you say so.” She had not meant to sound so dry, especially considering the circumstances, but she found his arrogance off-putting. She was trying to be nice and helpful and to expand his lifespan, but he seemed intent on being as haughty as possible - and they had only just met.

“Oh, but I do say so.”

Prick. He was practically glowing with pride. Good thing for her that the other mage she had met earlier, Gale, wasn’t half as insufferable - otherwise she’d have thrown him off a cliff already.

“Then fighting them won’t be any problem for you?” Tav suggested instead, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. Meeting his gaze, she noticed that his eyes were golden circles of flames, lit against the darkest black. She had never met anyone with eyes like this - blazing, unique.

Pretty.

Pretty annoying.

“I didn’t want to leave out of cowardice, if that’s what you’re implying, but I don’t expect a human to understand. I need to get to Baldur’s Gate as soon as possible. This,” he waved his arms at the surroundings, “is a tremendous waste of time. This place is lost.”

“Why are you in such a rush anyway?”

“Because,” and Tav could’ve sworn he straightened his shoulders, “You are looking at Lorroakan’s newest apprentice.”

She couldn’t hide her surprise, which he mistook for admiration.

“Yes, that Lorroakan - the greatest wizard in Baldur’s Gate.” And he sounded so proud, for a brief moment, he gave her a genuine smile.

“I’ve heard of him,” she offered cautiously. “He has an odd reputation.” Rolan opened his mouth, but she cut him before he could object. “Difficult, actually. Word is, he’s a bit of a cad. Maybe my companion Gale would know more…?” But Gale was nowhere to be found.

“Mere gossip fueled by jealousy, I’m sure. I don’t need anyone else’s opinion - trust me, I would not settle for any less than the greatest master.”

And just like that, the smug asshole was back. Fine. It was fine. Lorroakan was an idiot for all she knew. Granted, she never had an interest in magic nor a proficiency in it, and she had far better things to do at balls and parties than to chit-chat with the recluse wizard who rarely graced the public with his appearances. She usually left these matters to others - her parents, her more ambitious friends who maybe sought a husband of a grander reputation. But in all the years she’d lived in the same city as him, Lorroakan of Ramazith’s Tower had never managed to become particularly well-liked. Although, if word of his talent had reached Elturel, maybe he was good for something after all? And if that Rolan here, with his own arrogance and his obvious contempt for humans and non-mages was so eager to become his apprentice, maybe they were a good fit - in lack of manners if nothing else.

“I see. I’m sure you’ll get along perfectly well. Looking forward to seeing you all maged-up in the City, then.”

“If we ever make it.” Right. If they ever made it. “But if we do, I can assure you - in years to come, Tav, you will boast of this meeting. Few can match me in either magic or talent.” Her name acknowledged on his tongue danced in the air, and she was quite sure no one had ever said it like he did. Like it was a promise. A bet on the future. She repressed a shiver and cleared her throat instead.

“And modesty, I’m sure.” He glared at her, his features morphing back in a deep frown.

“I’ve worked myself to the bone for this. My name will be known far and wide. As for you…” He gave her a look of contempt, his flaming eyes lingering on her face for a second too long. “Good day to you.” He turned around and walked away, effectively ending their conversation, going back to his siblings - leaving Tav behind, horrified.

The nerve! The audacity! How dare he dismiss her like that! No, no - she was not about to be brushed off by a second-rate wizard who was all talk and no show. No one talked to her like that. She was the one who dismissed people, not the other way around. She was a valued member of the good Baldurian society! People loved talking to her, she was the pride of her family - yes, her family was owed respect! Her family was… well, nowhere to be seen.

Right.

They had not been in months, actually. Not even when she… - ugh. No, better not go down this rabbit hole again. Not now, at least. With a heavy sigh, she took a moment to compose herself, swallowing down her frustration, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to calm down. She couldn’t spend her energy on getting all worked up because someone had disrespected her. There were more pressing issues at hand: a tadpole in her head, refugees to save, and goblins to kill. The rest didn’t matter.

(...)

— Read the whole thing on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika

[little-paperboat]

Update of the update! First things first, thank you everyone for the encouragement, it's super heartwarming ❤️

I'm still here though! I ended up rewriting a lot of things in the end, and I'm almost done. I couldn't post on Saturday as planned (due to life inconveniences) but I should be done pretty soon, if not tomorrow then the day after - for real this time lol

(And it'll go over the 6000 words mark too 😇)

We're getting there!! And I'm super excited to share these two new chapters, hopefully you will like it too :)

x

forbidden fire • update/delay

Hi! I apologize for the long delay but the next part of "forbidden fire" won't be published before next week-end (15/06) 😔

I was away last week and didn't write at all, which changed my rhythm and mood and now I'm struggling to get back into it, and to like what I had written for this part 😬 (also allergies are taking me doooown, the brain fog/tiredness is really intense and not helping at all lol)

But hopefully in a week I'll have this all sorted out! 🌸

As a little treat tho I can tell you that the title of the next part will be called "What We Owe To Each Other" and it'll be in two chapters ❤️

Stay tuned and long live the Rolan Empire x

[little-paperboat]

@dutifullylazybread 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Thank you so much for your kind reblog, I'm overjoyed - especially coming from you, it feels like such an honor 😭💜 I still have to reply to your INCREDIBLE comments on AO3, but I'm beyond happy that you liked it and that you took the time to say a kind word about it!

Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle

It's here! *rings the bell* It's hereeeeee

First chapter of my Rolan x Tav slow burn series has been published!! The series is called I Burned My Fingers On This Forbidden Fire, and the first part is titled Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle. The second chapter is already written and will drop on Sunday 💜

I am super excited for this journey, I hope you'll like it too! Since this chapter is about 3K words long, I feel like it's difficult to put on tumblr, but I'll post an abstract under the cut.

• Read on AO3

Tav meets Rolan at the Grove. She’s nothing but trouble and he’s a pompous prick, so why in the Realms would they want anything to do with each other? (or, Tav will not take shit from anyone (even if they have pretty flaming eyes))

Rolan scoffed, and Tav glared at him. What was his problem? Cal and Lia seemed nice enough, but apparently their brother had not been granted any of their social skills.

“It’s obvious you are no mage - or not a skilled one, at least. My Thunderwave would’ve made quick work of these goblins.” From the corner of her eyes, Tav saw Lia roll her eyes and Cal hide a grin, but she kept her attention on Rolan, silently assessing him.

“If you say so.” She had not meant to sound so dry, especially considering the circumstances, but she found his arrogance off-putting. She was trying to be nice and helpful and to expand his lifespan, but he seemed intent on being as haughty as possible - and they had only just met.

“Oh, but I do say so.”

Prick. He was practically glowing with pride. Good thing for her that the other mage she had met earlier, Gale, wasn’t half as insufferable - otherwise she’d have thrown him off a cliff already.

“Then fighting them won’t be any problem for you?” Tav suggested instead, eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. Meeting his gaze, she noticed that his eyes were golden circles of flames, lit against the darkest black. She had never met anyone with eyes like this - blazing, unique.

Pretty.

Pretty annoying.

“I didn’t want to leave out of cowardice, if that’s what you’re implying, but I don’t expect a human to understand. I need to get to Baldur’s Gate as soon as possible. This,” he waved his arms at the surroundings, “is a tremendous waste of time. This place is lost.”

“Why are you in such a rush anyway?”

“Because,” and Tav could’ve sworn he straightened his shoulders, “You are looking at Lorroakan’s newest apprentice.”

She couldn’t hide her surprise, which he mistook for admiration.

“Yes, that Lorroakan - the greatest wizard in Baldur’s Gate.” And he sounded so proud, for a brief moment, he gave her a genuine smile.

“I’ve heard of him,” she offered cautiously. “He has an odd reputation.” Rolan opened his mouth, but she cut him before he could object. “Difficult, actually. Word is, he’s a bit of a cad. Maybe my companion Gale would know more…?” But Gale was nowhere to be found.

“Mere gossip fueled by jealousy, I’m sure. I don’t need anyone else’s opinion - trust me, I would not settle for any less than the greatest master.”

And just like that, the smug asshole was back. Fine. It was fine. Lorroakan was an idiot for all she knew. Granted, she never had an interest in magic nor a proficiency in it, and she had far better things to do at balls and parties than to chit-chat with the recluse wizard who rarely graced the public with his appearances. She usually left these matters to others - her parents, her more ambitious friends who maybe sought a husband of a grander reputation. But in all the years she’d lived in the same city as him, Lorroakan of Ramazith’s Tower had never managed to become particularly well-liked. Although, if word of his talent had reached Elturel, maybe he was good for something after all? And if that Rolan here, with his own arrogance and his obvious contempt for humans and non-mages was so eager to become his apprentice, maybe they were a good fit - in lack of manners if nothing else.

“I see. I’m sure you’ll get along perfectly well. Looking forward to seeing you all maged-up in the City, then.”

“If we ever make it.” Right. If they ever made it. “But if we do, I can assure you - in years to come, Tav, you will boast of this meeting. Few can match me in either magic or talent.” Her name acknowledged on his tongue danced in the air, and she was quite sure no one had ever said it like he did. Like it was a promise. A bet on the future. She repressed a shiver and cleared her throat instead.

“And modesty, I’m sure.” He glared at her, his features morphing back in a deep frown.

“I’ve worked myself to the bone for this. My name will be known far and wide. As for you…” He gave her a look of contempt, his flaming eyes lingering on her face for a second too long. “Good day to you.” He turned around and walked away, effectively ending their conversation, going back to his siblings - leaving Tav behind, horrified.

The nerve! The audacity! How dare he dismiss her like that! No, no - she was not about to be brushed off by a second-rate wizard who was all talk and no show. No one talked to her like that. She was the one who dismissed people, not the other way around. She was a valued member of the good Baldurian society! People loved talking to her, she was the pride of her family - yes, her family was owed respect! Her family was… well, nowhere to be seen.

Right.

They had not been in months, actually. Not even when she… - ugh. No, better not go down this rabbit hole again. Not now, at least. With a heavy sigh, she took a moment to compose herself, swallowing down her frustration, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to calm down. She couldn’t spend her energy on getting all worked up because someone had disrespected her. There were more pressing issues at hand: a tadpole in her head, refugees to save, and goblins to kill. The rest didn’t matter.

(...)

— Read the whole thing on AO3 :)

(c) divider by saradika