#give me one chance Rolan

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

The Wizards Tower

A/N: So I finally wrote about the reader taking care of him, I wanted Rolan to get his tower and feel some happiness, plus this fanart also inspired me.

Sorcerer’s Sundries, it was one of the many jewels of Baldur’s Gate, it stood proud and tall with many a wizard and intellectual visiting it’s grandeur. It stocked tome upon tome regarding many subjects, anything a wizard could be searching for was within it’s walls, a job that belonged to you. You were its bookkeeper, your job was to categorise its vast written works and keep an up to date catalogue. A job you did well, so very well you remember the day that the high wizard in the tower started asking for you to assist him as well, Lorroakan. He was a lecherous man, you despised having to attend him in any way, yet you did so with a pretty smile, you had seen what he did to those who did not please him and it did not look in any way pleasant. You endured his sly hand upon your lower back, dipping far too low, or the way he slung his arm around you in one of his drunken stupors, his fingertips grazing against your breasts making you feel sick to your stomach. Surely someone would come and rid Baldur’s Gate of this low-rate wizard, Hells he couldn’t cast an effective Lightening Bolt if he tried to.

Time passed and you endured his stares and his hands pawing against you, hating every moment. You saw many apprentices come and go from his instruction, most never lasted the first month, in fact, the rest of the staff in Sorcerer’s Sundries started to take bets as to how long each one would last. The longest surviving apprentice before now was 4 weeks until they threw in the towel from Lorroakan’s “harsh” instruction. You all gathered discreetly in the lower hall of the store as the new apprentice approached, his glowing golden eyes seemed full of hope, “may the gods bless him.”  you had thought to yourself, he seemed an interesting looking man, the crimson skin and golden eyes seemed to draw you in. You shook your head and returned to your work; it would only be a matter of time before he left as well so it would be best not to get close to him in any case.

The weeks droned on and the crimson Tiefling was still here, you still did not know his name as you had never cared to find out, you thought he would have left by now. Your life was still as miserable as usual, pawed at by the high wizard whenever you were forced to take him his supper or deliver any tomes he required, you made yourself scarce amongst the other workers here. “Maybe you should mingle and speak to people” you asked yourself. Fine. You made your way over to where the apprentice sat, he was on his own despite being here for weeks, even though this was a bustling city, people steered clear because he was a Tiefling, people did not want to associate with him “Racist Fucks” you grumbled to yourself. The crimson Tiefling sat alone, and you debated on joining him, your heart said to do it, so you did. You took a seat opposite the Tiefling and smiled softly. “I’m Tav, I’ve seen you here before but never had the chance to say hello” You give a friendly smile to him and await his reply.

“Oh… um I’m Rolan, I’m Master Lorroakans apprentice….” He says with a slight fear as he points his face down, pretending to be interested in his food. You notice that he has bruises on his face, bruises that you have seen on many a face in this place and your eyes sadden.

“Rolan…. I’ve got some healing salve if you need some” you say in a knowing and gentle voice.

“Salve? Why would I need salve? I don’t need healing.” His abrupt words left you stunned momentarily as he looks down and pretends to be more interested in his food. ��Sorry, must have been a trick of the light, I thought I saw a scar on your face” your smile soft and gentle towards him. You both knew what you were doing, however you were the first person to offer Rolan any gentle words, so he just sat there and accepted your company. The weeks passed painfully for you, each day you would sit with him for dinner and notice the marks on his face, pretending not to feel completely heartbroken for the sake of his stupid pride. More of your time was spent at home making baked goods and bringing them to work in order to offer more food to him, it pissed you off that you had to offer Lorroakan some but at least you knew Rolan would have some and that it would hopefully cheer him up under his master’s harsh instruction.

Time passes and you and Rolan become close, you both work under Lorroakan so you spend a lot of time together, a sweet rapport ends up developing but only in secret as Rolan dare not upset his master by trying to court you, he had seen Lorroakan’s unwanted hands upon you when you had attended to him. The two of you just had to settle for stolen glances and secret conversations between the bookshelves of the library, praying that someday things would finally change. Rolan had never figured out that you were the one who had sent the sweet baked goods into Lorroakans tower, he just enjoyed them for what they were, a small perk to brighten his dark day.

Prayers had been answered finally, you had left work one afternoon, exhausted. The morning broke and you returned to uproar. Lorroakan had been defeated? You were not aware that anyone had sought to best him in a duel. The rumour was that some Aasimar and their companions had felled him in battle. The entire workforce that was employed at Sorcerer’s Sundries looked around in shock, who would run the place now? You all needed this job to pay your bills and feed your families, this place could not possibly run without a wizard in charge? You look up and see a familiar crimson Tiefling stood on the balcony and smile, thank Gods he was safe. Rolan had announced that he would be taking over Ramazith’s Tower for now as there were no other candidates present. He sold himself short, you thought, he had always been more powerful than Lorroakan, you were happy that the lecherous tyrant was gone and that Rolan would no longer face his wrath. Work went on as usual, with some slight changes for most people under this new charge, your work was mostly left untouched, however you voluntarily kept your role as the wizards assistant, ensuring that Rolan took breaks and made sure he ate, he rolled his eyes at your insistence when you brought him his meals but you did not care, you felt that you needed to look after him as he was still neglecting his body and his wellbeing as he tried to rework the place.

It was a long while before things calmed down in Sorcerer’s Sundries, or even Baldur’s Gate for that matter, there had been several events take place. There was the conspiracy that subjects of Bhaal were causing the murders throughout the city, then some hero turned up and saved the city from some apparent Illithid plot? You just came to work and went home not wanting to involve yourself within the politics or actions of the city, you were just a common citizen and wanted to keep yourself out of it, as long as you and your friends were safe, you were happy.

You were surprised to hear that the hero of Baldur’s Gate was a good friend of Rolan, hell, Rolan even helped them with defeating the Illithid plot that you didn’t think was real, more and more facts about the situation came out as the weeks passed and your respect for Rolan only intensified. After the fear died down in the city things went back to normal again, people from all over Faerun came to visit the store and Baldur’s Gate became a bustling hub again. In this time Rolan sought to make some changes, he had finally settled into living in the tower, moving his siblings in which brought him great joy. He did not have as much time to speak with you or enjoy your company in the following weeks, yet you kept your role as assistant to the master of the tower as well as book keeper, you made sure to bring Rolan meals at least twice a day, he did not always eat them, many a time you would bring his supper only to see his dinner left untouched. Rolan was busy updating the Tower and how the store worked, his changes made the place more efficient yet this whole process took its toll on the wizard. You had noticed that many a night he would fall asleep at his desk when you had brought supper to him, after the third night you started to bring a blanket with you, just in case, you did not like that he slept at his desk, however the least you could do was to make sure that he would not go cold. Your softness towards him did not go unnoticed, Rolan had surmised after the second night of being covered with the blanket that this was your doing, your tender gesture made his heart soar, he could not do anything now as he had too much work to do, he promised himself that when all this was done, he would keep you close to him and make you his officially.

Weeks pass, it dragged for you seeing how much Rolan overworked himself in updating the place, you were ever loyal and made sure to drop his dinner and supper off, clearing away the uneaten food and wrapping him in the blanket as he slept in his study, this had become a regular thing to you, although Rolan did try and make more time for you and you relished having him back in your life again. Once the works and updates were completed in the tower and Sorcerer’s Sundries, everyone’s workload finally calmed down, you could all go back to your normal work, though you did happily elect to keep your position as the wizards assistant, wanting an excuse to see Rolan still, a choice he was more than happy to oblige.

It was like any other day for you in Baldur’s Gate, the sun shining, the store heaving and taking your beloved wizard his supper at sunset. You two had grown close in the weeks past, you would spend time with him as you left him his meals, this became his favourite time of the day. Often you would stay late after work and enjoy a glass of wine with him, laughing at each other’s jokes and stories, enjoying the view from his balcony and just being together. Neither of you would admit that there was something between you, something more than before, for a long while, you were both scared that the feeling would be unrequited, that you would make things weird. It was only after Cal and Lia took Rolan to one side, after a painfully long time of watching you together that Rolan finally understood what was happening between you two. This was the day Rolan would take his chance, after everything he had been through he deserved some happiness, and he wanted it to be with you. Sunset fell across Baldur’s Gate, turning the sky a deep beautiful shade of orange, it was your usual time to take Master Rolan his supper. You finished up with your books and head up to his tower, passing the kitchen on your way so you could take his supper up to him.

Rolan was not in his usual place, he was out on his balcony out of your view, you had to call out to him to ascertain his whereabouts, worried something was wrong. “Tav my dear” a thick, deep voice emanates from behind the curtains of the window. “I’m out on the balcony, won’t you join me, please?” Placing the tray of food down you stand momentarily and wring your hands nervously, this was new, you hadn’t expected this to happen at all. Making your way through his study you pass gently through the curtains and see Rolan leant against the balcony. He was a vision to behold. His crimson visage against the soft orange sunset was enough to set your heart aflutter, not to mention that cocky smile that you enjoyed seeing adorn his face. His hand reached out to you which you took gently, pulling you towards him at the edge of the balcony wall. This was already an intimate moment, made even more so as he stood behind you, arms leant at either side of you on the wall, his body softly pressing against yours. “It is a lovely view, is it not Tav?” His breath hot against your neck caused your heart to race, what was happening?

“Y.. yes… it is.. um… beautiful” you managed to stammer; you felt a chuckle from Rolan’s chest vibrate against your back making you blush.

Rolan placed a soft kiss at the back of your head, inhaling the soft flowery scent on your hair before turning you around to face him, pressing you against the wall, now chest to chest. A smirk adorned his face as he looked you up and down, he truly was a magnificent wizard who more than deserved this tower. “Don’t’ think I don’t notice all you do for me Tav, I truly would not be here without you” his voice soft yet deep, his praise causing you to blush slightly. “I had meant to do this a while back but was unsure of what your answer would be.” His body now pressing against yours, forcing you against the balcony wall, a gasp almost escaping your lips as you wait on bated breath at his every word.

“Tav. Stay. Here. With me?” his voice was so enrapturing as you felt his soft finger lift your chin up to look at him, as he asked you to stay you did not have time to answer or regain composure from your speechlessness before he nuzzled his face into your neck. Of course you would stay with him, you were fully devoted to him and had longed for this for more than you had cared to admit.

[reverieblondie]

Nobel Blood

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Penetrate sex, Tail rubbing?, Desk sex, Cream pie.

Summary: High society has never been your thing, and now your having to go to the Raven Ball...Maybe you will see a familiar face trying to conduct himself in a new landscape...

A/N: This might be completely self indulgent...but I liked it...

Word Count: 7,370 (I got carried away...)

“What about this one? What do you think?” 

Rolan appears from behind his changing screen in a new blue jacket with silver embroidery and buttons. The collar and cuffs are lined with silver. His pants are black and a bit tighter to his body than he is accustomed to. The boots he’s wearing are shining and new. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror in his room, he turns around, holding out his arms. 

“Be honest… Thoughts?”

A very bored-looking Cal is lying on Rolan's bed. He turns his head, looks at his brother, and gives him a once-over. 

“Like I told you about the four other outfits… You look fine. Please just pick one!” 

Rolan scoffs, “Cal, this is important. I have to look my best to make a good first impression. There will be a lot of important people there today. This could lead to some great opportunities.” 

Cal looks at Rolan, a bit worried, “Rolan, you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself. Just go and relax, maybe meet someone, make friends. You know, have fun!” 

Rolan rolls his eyes as he does his hair in his usual tight, twisted bun, “I’m not going to waste the opportunity to have fun!” 

Once he had finished with his hair, he adjusted his collar before turning to have Cal assess him once more. When he turned, he saw the prominent frown on Cal's face. He sighs, “Cal, you know how people look at us. This is a chance to change people's perceptions.” 

“The right people, you don't have to change their perceptions…” 

The room is quiet, and a silent understanding fills the space. The silence is cut by Lia busting through the doors of the master bedroom. Looking at them like they have lost their minds. 

“What are you two doing? Rolan, stop fussing and get going! You get invited to a ball and waste your time primping!” 

Rolan sighs as Lia dusts off his shoulders and places his invite in his jacket pocket. Pausing, she looks at his hair and starts to pull and loosen his usual style, making it softer looking with some strains to frame his face and the tips of his ears poking out a bit more, 

“What the hells Lia! My hair was fine!” 

“No, you always wear it so tight you want it looser, rugged.” 

“I’m going for cool and collect.” 

“Yeah, but ladies like a bit of ruggedness.” 

Rolan swats away her hands and starts to leave, 

“I'm not going there to get a date!”

Lia huffs at his leaving figure, “Hopeless…” 

Cal looks over at Lia, “Any chance he’s going to loosen up and have a good time tonight.”  

Lia takes a moment to ponder the question, “If the right person talks to him.”

-KAW!-

The sudden noise tries to break you from your slumber, but only briefly before you lol back to your dreams…magic hands…a soft warmth…a husky whisper…

-KAW KAW!-

The dream is ripped from you as your eyes are popped open; on pure instinct, you reach for your knife under your pillow, but as you look towards the noise, you pause. 

The Falcon blinks and tilts its head at you, curiously fidgeting and hopping closer to you. You pull your hand away from the blade and sigh at the familiar bird, “Hello, Rune. Do you have something for me?” 

Rune turns, revealing a message carrier just like you expected, “Clever bird,” 

Reaching over you, you scratch her neck while you retrieve the message from the red tube. The tube has an emblem very familiar to you: a golden long sword with vines and two golden roses by the sword's hilt. The paper is thick and white, wrapped with a red ribbon. Unwrapping it, you see the fancy script, and it clicks to you what is happening. 

“An invitation for the Raven Ball…and I'm guessing they are hoping for me to attend?” 

Rune kaws in what seems to be agreement; you nod at her. 

“Well, I guess I should head that way… she's bound to be waiting for me.” 

Walking up to the massive mansion lined with guards and littered with candles. The entryway is opened for the invited to shuffle in and out of the party. Just deep breaths, smile, and be pleasant…have grace, and don’t throw punches to the face; saying the rhyme in your head brings back fond memories, and you have to stifle a laugh breaking from your throat. One of your two companions notices you hiding a smirk; he notices everything, and it never fails to drive you crazy. 

“Nervous Darling?” Astarion smirks, his red eyes observing you as if he could read your mind. 

“Nope, are you?” You challenge. 

Astarion fakes a laugh and smiles, showing his long fangs flashing in the candlelight. “Never” 

Typical…

Walking through the entrance is like walking through time; these balls have always been the same. The host and the house may change, but the overcrowded rooms are filled with the rich and self-important. Deep breaths… keep taking deep breaths….

Arriving at the main hall of the home with Astarion and Shadowheart in tow, you pause with them as they marvel at the grand space. It truly is a beautiful event. Servers glide around the room with their pristine trays, serving fine wines to everyone; Astarion is quick to grab himself a glass as they walk past. The center of the room is filled with people clapping and turning, floating along to the music. Shadowheart keeps her green eyes scanning the dance floor; she is looking for someone in particular…it is the only reason she decided on attending this ball, along with your pleading. Moving your eyes around the space, the candles light the room brightly and make the gilded arches and decor glimmer in an almost magic shine. Knowing how these people love theatrics, they probably had wizards put on some spells for the grandeur of it all. 

Turning to your friends, you see they are entirely taken in by the atmosphere, though when Astarion meets your eyes, he plays his wonderment off as if this is nothing to him. As they continue to stroll about, you continue to fuss around with your dress, the corset's tightness starting to irritate you, and the flowing skirt and sleeves feeling like they're going to wrap around your legs and trip you. You curse under your breath as you have a small battle with the dress picked out for you. 

“Dress issues?” Astarion teases 

You roll your eyes, and you adjust the bodice up, but you find the action is in vain as your cleavage is still on full display. It's been years, and it makes sense the dress wouldn’t lay the same, but the high golden necklace always sat tight on your neck, forcing you to keep your head up, the exposedness of your chest and shoulders always made your cheeks flush, and the tight bodice lined with gold down to your hips always made your breath short. You did like the ruffled white skirt with the red front panel and the matching red sleeves that go from bust to cascade down your arms; it did look nice. But the part you constantly fidget with for comfort is the emblem at the center of your sweetheart neckline. It's that same one it's always been, a golden longsword with two golden roses…

“Just…adjusting…” you smirk back to hide your irritation. 

“These corsets are murder but do wonders for the figure at least?” Shadowheart chimes in 

Her silvery white hair contrasted beautifully with her lilac silk dress. The fabric looks like it drapes and flows effortlessly off her polling elegantly at the bottom, and as she moves, it reveals a long slit over her right leg. For a dress she picked out today, it looks like it could have been custom-made for her. She had fussed about the dress and her hair, wearing it in a different style than usual, but you assured her she looked terrific and would catch the eye of a certain soon-to-be duke…

Astarion places reassuring hands on yours and her shoulders. “Well, the dresses are definitely an improvement from the drab, caked-up with, grime outfits I had grown accustomed to seeing you in.” 

You both look at each other before looking at him unamused. “Thanks, Astarion…” you say in unison, not completely happy that he pointed out your dirty states on the journey you all met on. 

“Anytime Darlings~” 

Shadowheart’s eyes go back to the dancefloor, and you think for a moment that you see her getting on her tiptoes (despite being in heels) to look over some heads. 

“I think I might stroll around the room…see if I can find any…interesting company.”

You and Astarion look at each other, knowing what she truly means; translation: Shadowheart is going to look for Wyll. They are such an opposite duo, but they are just drawn to one another. Astarion always teases the names Shadow Princess and the Horned Prince when talking about them and their longing for each other. 

Shadowheart turns to see your smirking faces and she rolls her eyes before walking off. Good luck you silently wish for her… 

You watch as she makes her way through the crowd, a part of you wants to go with her to help navigate the space but you know she wants privacy for this and you don’t blame her. While you watch the floor a familiar sensation of red eyes and a fiendish smirk being placed in your direction makes you shudder. Looking up at him you see a very well-dressed Astarion looking like a vision in all black except for the wine-colored small jacket and gold and ruby necklaces hanging from his neck. When you asked about the jewels he just chuckled and left a quick poke on your nose, a way to irritate you and avoid your questions. He continues to stare and smile at the devious thoughts running rampant in his mind. 

“Yes?” 

Astarion looks away with a slight laugh, “Oh, nothing nothing…just curious if you were going to go look for anyone special tonight. Any fine suitors on the line for you to turn about with?” 

When asked only one person flashes in your mind, but you shake it off not wanting to get your hopes too high. He would probably find something like this a waste of time. 

“No, I’m planning a rather dull evening of just watching the grander, saying hi to familiar faces. No suitors eager for my hand. You?” 

Astarion looks around the room piercing his lips, “I might also be having a rather drab evening…nothing seems to catch my eye, which is too bad I was in the mood to make some trouble.” 

A slight laugh escapes your throat and Astarion looks at you with a raised brow, “Something funny?”

“Well, I just think you have changed a lot since a certain bear tagged along…come to think of it you just came back from the old shadow lands and are planning to go back…” 

Astrion narrows his eyes at you and you grin widely knowing he’s smitten. 

“Very clever…well, I will leave you to it, going to go find some more wine and maybe go rub elbows with some important-looking people…” 

“Play nice Astarion!” 

“No promises! Ta Ta!” 

With both your friends gone you're now alone in the ballroom and now it definitely feels like old times. Memories of your childhood flash through your mind as you watch. In your memory it's a younger you, biting her lip in disdain and fumbling with her dress, head sore with the elaborate braids that were decorated with trinkets and jewels. The biggest thing you remember? The feeling so isolated and unwelcomed by people meant to be your peers. You can recall two gentle hands placed on your shoulders as people just passed you by…

Shaking off the memories you look at the huddles of people near the walls engaged in conversations, “Well, better go say hi to mom and dad…” Gathering up your skirt and taking another deep breath you go on the prowl. 

It was overwhelming and Rolan had to stand to the side to recollect himself. It turns out that coming to socialize with people from the upper city was a lot more difficult than he initially expected. He was starting to wonder why the hell he came here. Yes, he had been formally invited but the people didn’t seem to know who he was or they were staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. Was this all a joke…was he just a thing to be stared at and mocked for the night's entertainment?

Looking down at his crimson hands and long nails…his tail twists around his leg as he balls his hands into tight fists. He shouldn’t have come here, he didn’t belong. Cal and Lia had been so excited about his invitation and were eager to help him get ready with high hopes of him growing his name to the city's lords and ladies. He had promised to make friends and get them invited to the next ball, but now that seems like a silly fantasy. 

Unraveling his tail and holding his head up, he decides to leave until a familiar figure catches his eye. Astarion? The pale elf has his red eyes on Rolan while keeping a smug smile on his face, instead of waving or greeting him; however, Rolan's thoughts trail to something, someone else. Scanning the room he’s hoping to catch the sight of a particular hero…

“If it isn't the Archmage of Ramaziths Tower, I figured you would see these parties as a waste of time.” 

Rolan's body immediately tenses and he turns around quickly, You smile for having spooked him. You watch as his shining eyes widen as they trail over you, his lips slightly parted and you think you hear his tail fall to the ground. From his reaction alone you're suddenly no longer lamenting having to wear the dress and in fact decide to stand a bit straighter. Once he realizes he’s staring he averts his gaze from your chest and neck, clearing his throat. 

“Tav, what…why?”

“What? Not happy to see me? 

“I- no…I mean I am! Well not happy, I mean I am happy but not super happy, but a surprised happy! Uh…pleasantly surprised….” 

His eyes meet yours and winces at himself, understanding how these parties can whine someone up you decide to ease the tension. Giggling at his rambling you gently punch his shoulder breaking the awkwardness threatening to set in. The force of the punch causes him to stumble and smile. 

“It’s good to see you, but I’m a little shocked. I figured these parties would be far too stuffy for such a great adventuring hero of the gate.” 

You shrug looking out to the party where you see Astrion watching you two, you give him a look of ‘what?’ and he shakes his head with a smirk and walks away. You turn back to Rolan, 

“Actually I’m pretty used to these stuffy parties.” 

Rolan’s brows furrow as he looks down at you confused, you do the same as you look up at him, and then it clicks. 

“Rolan, I’m from Baldur's Gate. I grew up having to go to these parties and having to take etiquette classes. My mother is a countess, from a long line of nobility and my father is a general for a regiment of the city's army.” 

Rolan's eyes widen as you nonchalantly explain your past, “Your… a lady from an important house of Baldur's Gate…and you were out slumming it in the wild? Wielding swords and blowing up goblin camps?” 

Thinking for a second you nod “Yeah, my dad used to take me camping and taught me how to fight. Mom wanted me to be a proper socialite but I didn't exactly fit in… Once I got older they told me I could go travel the swords coast, get the wildness out of me before finding a suitor, ya know?” 

Rolan shakes his head with a smile, “So you left all of this to adventure and ended up getting a tadpole in your head. That inevitably leads you back here…” 

“Hey, I had adventures before that! But I will say that one was my favorite.” 

Rolan smirks and looks down at you, “Because it made you a hero?” 

You look up at him, his gentle gaze and soft loose strands of hair cascading around his horns making your heart flutter, “Because I got to make friends, and meet you.”  

Rolan's face gets slightly darker as he thinks of something to say. With him tongue-tied you take the opportunity to tease him more by sticking your tongue at him. He rolls his eyes and turns away, you swear you see the tips of his ears a light hue of marron now. 

“Why are you here? And are Cal and Lia with you? I miss them and their tormenting of you.” You continued to tease. Though you see Rolan’s face slightly drop. 

“Well…I was the only one to receive an invitation and I didn’t realize I could bring anyone…I wish I would have, with them around I wouldn’t feel so…” Rolan shakes his head as if to shake away his thought, “I came here to meet people to get them interested in the tower's knowledge and to show that I am a worthy archmage. But I haven’t been able to talk to anyone “ 

Your heart sinks as you listen to Rolan, you remember having to go there alone at times…Rolan is always trying so hard for his family, it's quite honorable of him and one of the things that drew you to him. Thinking for a moment you try to think of a plan before it hits suddenly, “Rolan I can get you a formal introduction to someone who is very important and that I know would like to hear about the tower.” 

Rolan’s face lights up, “I would, I would be so grateful.” 

Smiling you wrap your arm around Rolan’s elbow, a part of you thought that he would recoil but he seems to welcome the gesture by straightening his posture and tightening up his arm. Your hand creases his bicep and it takes every part of you not to start teasing him about his surprisingly muscular form. Act like a proper socialite, for Rolan’s sake. 

As you two stroll about the floor you keep your eyes peeled. Though you do see some people staring at you and Rolan as you walk arm in arm, you figure people are just wanting to gawk at the hero and the new archmage. 

“Seems like we are popular sights tonight.” 

Rolan hums, “I think you are the popular sight, I’m probably more of the skeptical…” 

“Specktical?” 

Looking over to meet your eyes Rolan just gently squeezes your hand, “Never mind, uh, so who are we looking for?” 

“Her.” 

Pointing out your finger you lead Rolan’s eyes to a group of women fanning themselves as they scan their eyes like hawks around the room. They are all dressed immaculately and as the two of you approach they keep their eyes locked on you both. One of the women quickly whispers to a taller woman, the taller woman turns and Rolan has to hold back his gasp. 

She looks like you…well an older version but still stunning. Rolan feels his throat instantly dry and when he looks over to you with a panicked expression, he admittedly comprehends what's happening and he’s never felt so unprepared in his life. Feeling him tense you keep a soft smile and gently rub small circles on his hand, trying to ensure he’s calm when meeting your mother. 

In front of the intimidating woman (he sees where you get it now) you release yourself from his arm and give a curtsy. Rolan follows your lead and gives a bow. 

“Countess, I would like to formally introduce you to Archmage Rolan, Master of Ramaziths Tower. Rolan, this is the Countess, also known as my mother.” 

You feel your cheeks grow red, you're introducing a man to your mother…you never thought this would be happening, it’s very proper of you. Looking up at her face you see a soft smile, for her that’s practically beaming. So far so good. 

“I heard about the last master's passing…” she says casually. You and Rolan exchanged a glance before she continued “Can’t say I wasn’t fond of the news, he was always a poor representation of the tower. A bit of a cad.” 

Rolan’s jaw practically drops and you are quick to continue the conversation for him while he recollects himself, 

“Well, I will have to tell you Rolan is quite proficient in magic, self-taught and self-disciplined. He plans on studying and cataloging the tomes in the tower to then share the knowledge with the realms.” You praise 

“That's quite the honorable aspiration for a young man. I am sure everyone would be quite pleased to have access to its knowledge. I have been to your tower once before in my youth, the smell of the weave in the air and the majesty of all the books still leaves me with pleasant memories.” 

Meaning: ‘Invite me over to see the tower again because ladies do not invite themselves places’. You're not a bit surprised your mother is taking a fast liking to Rolan, he has a title, is respectable, and usually can hold his own in a conversation but today he seems to keep getting tongue-tied, we’ll chop that up to nerves. With a subtle nudge to his arm, you break him out of his daze where he can give her a proper answer. 

“Well, th-thank you. I think everyone should have access to knowledge if they want it. Also, you and Tav should join me at the tower for tea. I will have to prepare a bit but I would be delighted to have you two there.” 

Two of her ladies-in-waiting mutter something to each other earning them a prompt glare from the Countess. They quickly scurry away. 

“I would be delighted to just name the date. Plus I would love to hear about how you two met, knowing my daughter that story will be filled with twists and turns.” 

Rolan giggles and you look at your mom in shock as she openly teases you. You have never seen her be so casual with a stranger, well for her this is casual. You can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, you never were one to crave approval from anyone but it does feel nice when your Mother seems to improve the boy you like. 

“I will have you know I handled myself with dignity and grace-“ 

“I watched her punch someone in the face for disrespecting my kind, it was a lasting impression, a good one,” Rolan says with a laugh and causes your mother to let out a giggle -that woman never giggles!

“Well I will have to forgive her for that, sounds like that punch was well deserved.” Your mother looks at you and you see a softness in her eyes “My tough girl.” 

The moment is soft before your mother changes the subject. Ladies must keep the conversation flowing after all.  

“Now Tav, why don’t you introduce Master Rolan to your father? I’m sure he would love to meet him.” 

With a curtsy and a bow, you two make your way to find your father. 

“Never seen you so proper…” Rolan leans down to whisper in your ears, you have to fight the tingling that threatens to show on your skin. Nothing quick like his mockery so close to you. 

You take Rolan's arm so he’s leading you through the room, “Never seen you so tongue-tied…” you mock back.

“She's intimidating… I see where you get it from…” 

“You should see when she doesn’t like someone, that’s intimidating.” 

“Any warnings about your father? Or do you plan to surprise me again?” 

“Oh but you do look so cute lost for words, I didn’t know wizards had that capability.” you coo back now blatantly flirting, very unladylike. The scandal…

Feeling bold Rolan tightens his grip on your arm where you can feel his nails against your skin, it is mind-numbing this sudden game. “And I didn't know how ravishing you look in a dress so tightly wound to you.” 

The sudden boldness of his words makes you pause, and your cheeks redden. Rolan nervously clears his throat unsure if he overstepped… he brings his eyes up for a distraction and lucky for him he finds one. 

“Tav look”, Following his gesture to the dance floor you see a heartwarming sight that distracts your thrumming heart. Wyll spins around the dance floor holding Shadowheart close to his body and he leads her through the dance. They look like a vision together, everyone seems to pause and look at them as they command the space with little effort. 

It's while you're watching them you feel a warm hand wrapping around your own. Looking up to its source you see Rolans gleaming eyes on yours taking you in slowly. You swear it’s a secret spell of his to become out of breath and feel sparks when you look at him. The feeling rushes through your veins like it has since you first met him at the grove and all the moments after. Rolan's lips part gracing you with a quick view of his sharp teeth till suddenly you feel yourself being grabbed and thrown into the air.

“And! There is my wayward daughter! Our righteous hero graced us with her presents! Ha Haaa!” 

The voice is loud and booming as the large arms wrap around you forcing your body into the air before crashing you back down to your heeled feet. Your father, as bostress as ever and completely uncaring for these parties 'etiquettes’ as always. In a lot of ways, the apple did not fall from the tree. 

Taking a moment he scans over you, it's been far too long since you saw him, and from how you ramble and rave at each other it shows. Then his eyes start to scan around you till they are meeting with Rolans, and your father smiles like a Cheshire cat. 

“Ah, and I see the rumors are true. You have a gentleman escort this evening.” 

“Actually I have two others but one is dancing with the Duke's son while the other is bound to be causing trouble.” 

“Trading in for different companies.” His eyes go to Rolan and you see him tease over your father's gaze, “Now to see if this man was worth it.” 

“Well, he is a wizard…” Your eyes go to Rolan and you two are now assessing him

“Meet plenty of spellcasters,”

You continue, “Archmage of Ramiths tower…he got the areca artillery working in the battle saving my and my friends' necks. 

“The Fire Rainer!” Your father yells, making Rolan and nearby people jump.

Before Rolan can properly process what is happening your Father is grabbing his hand in a crushing grip that Rolan returns. 

“My men, We were all in awe of your work getting those dusty turrets to work. And for helping my Tav. Good man.” he continues to shake Rolan's hand for a long moment before letting go and placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s good company to keep, strong grip and with fire in his eyes.” 

You look at Rolan giving him a nod of a good job before your father is turning to both of you. With a wide grin. 

“Now! Rolan, if you walk around with my daughter you must ask her for a dance!” 

Rolan stutters over his words as you look at your father like he’s lost his mind. 

“Dad, You can’t make him dance.”

“Why not? He wishes to be near you; he must dance with you.” 

The words make you flush as you avoid Rolan's eyes, “He’s not the dancing type…” 

This causes Rolan to lift a brow, then you feel Rolan’s warm hands on yours leading you suddenly towards the dance floor. In a swift flourish, Rolan spins you and grasps his hand in yours, placing the other on your hip and smirking at your shocked expression…

“Looks like he is!” your father calls barely audible through the music. 

The transition to the dance is effortless as you two glide across the floor. Watching his glimmering eyes on yours is spurring your heart into a rush. Your body feels like it’s on fire as he effortlessly glides you through turns and claps. Eyes never leaving one another. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance?” 

Rolan scoffs, “Of course, I know how to dance, you don’t think I haven’t gone to parties before?”

lifting a brow, you look at him with an unamused expression, “OK, I might have practiced…”

You laugh and let him spin you out, then catching your hand and pulling you back to him. His hands in yours, your back flushed to his chest. The dance is completely intertwining, his scent, his warmth, the purring of his chuckling laugh. You want more, your hope is for this dance to never end so you can stay in his arms.

With a twist and a sway of your hips, you smile at him as the blush rushes to his speckled cheeks, a reminder that you are experienced at these dances and you will not hesitate to spice up the moves if it means rubbing against him. It makes his heart thum as he turns you around again, his tail wrapping slightly around your dress as he steps with you till plunging you down to a dip.

A perfect dance partner, finally.

You two stay locked within each other's snare, a small feeling of leaning forward towards each other causing your mouth to water in anticipation of a kiss. Then breaking you two from the moment is roaring applause that fills the room. He lets you rise, and you two join the applause of the musicians as well.

A normal socialite would worry if people could tell how much you liked him. You don’t care, however, Rolan is magnificent, and you would scream it at the top of your lungs, but you know this is his chance to impress rich bastards and prove himself worthy of his new illustrious Title. Of course, the right people already know this, he doesn’t need to impress them.

As you look to the crowd to make your way to your dad to give him sass (and maybe a pat on the back for making that happen for you) you see Rolan Pointing to the front part of the dance floor, music starting to swell up again and your father and mother swaying to the song. Another set of perfectly matched dance partners. 

Offering his elbow to you again, you curtsy at Rolan's gesture and let him lead you off the floor. A perfect gentleman, If your mother is watching she is beaming with pride (though she will talk to you about that hip swaying later). Off the floor, your dry throat hits you,

“ I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Oh I can-“

“Rolan I can grab drinks, I’m still a hero of the Gate, not a delicate flower.” You tease him.

“A glass of wine sounds great then,” 

“I will be a quick second, wait here” With that you gather your skirt and shuffle away. Both of you trying to hide your dorky grins for one another. 

Then a stray voice catches Rolan off guard, “Dancing with a noble…but don’t forget you're just hellspawn trash…” 

Roland’s eyes widen, and he turns around quickly, but he is met with nothing but a crowd of people wrapped in their own world. One that some are not willing to invite him to. He watches them so clearly, trying not to stare, others staring, and sharing whispers. Then his eyes meet yours.

Golden eyes that you can always catch in any crowd. They shine his brilliance and never fail to make your heartbeat rush. Anyone would be lucky to have him look their way and right now that’s you, drinks in hand, you pick up your speed to get to him faster, but then his starburst eyes shut in something that resembles pain and then he’s gone…Rushing out of the room away from you.

Pausing you watch him leave, your heart sinking to your stomach. Swallowing down the feeling you place the cups on the nearest waiter's tray and run after him.

The hallways are dark as you follow after him. It only gets darker and darker, till you see him dipping into a side room, shutting the door behind him. It takes a bit of self-control on your part, not to rip the door off its hinges as you open it, but the site makes you slow down.

His tail twisted tightly to his leg, hands in his hair, and talking quickly in infernal. Gently you close the door behind you, and with a click lock giving you two privacy in the dark office. Rolan's shoulders tense at the sound of the lock, he can’t bear to look and see your disappointment. You carefully approach as he braces his hands down on the desk. His body so tight you think he will snap two.

“Rolan, wh-what happened?” 

Turning his head, his golden eyes shine through the darkness. And they see you perfectly. Face contorted in worry as you gently approach. Your face is the one he knows, the one he saw shining in the sunlight of the Grove, the face that saved him from shadows in the cursed land, the one who held his bruised face so gently promising Lorroakan would never hurt him again… the hero of the gate…his hero.

Then his eyes tail down, his Tav, the hero, dressed in the finest fabrics, a lady of Noble Birth, someone too good for someone like him.

In your eyes, you see him for what he truly is, a strong dreamer, someone who you would walk through the Hells for. A man so dedicated to the ones he loves, you want to love and care for him till your last breath.

“I don’t belong here…I am a joke…a monster for everyone to gawk at.” He finally confesses. 

Your eyes grow wide and all you feel is anger, “Did someone say something to you…do something?! Who? I swear I will-“ 

Before you can, march back into the ballroom and demand reconciliation with blood, you feel warmth wrapping around your shoulders and around your ankle. Rolan's warmth envelops you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Clinging to his forearms you lean into him letting yourself calm.

“You're better than any of them…” you whisper

“Is that what you think?” he mutters in response

“Rolan it’s what I know, you're extraordinary.” 

Rolan’s arms tighten around you making you never want to leave his caress, but you still turn to look at him. placing a hand on his face, he’s perfect in your eyes…

“We are different…” he almost pouts

“I like our differences.” 

Rolan’s hands slip down to your waist. 

“Won’t they slander you, and your family's name?” 

“Not the people who matter to me…” your words like a promise

You lean into him rising to your toes to be only a touch away from his lips. You feel his breath fan across yours, and a rush of desire floods your body and mind.

“They will say I tainted you…” his hands caressing your face so gently

“They can go fuck themselves” 

The smile you two share is perfect, right before he presses his lips to yours. His lips caressed yours, setting your body a flame, his nails digging into the sides of your dress, and as you felt their points, you gasped and let him trail his lips sloppily on your jaw to your neck. Your mind melted at every rush of his lips, becoming more breathless as the pleasure of this moment crashed over you then pooling into an aching need in your lower stomach. All the blood and the thoughts rush to your swelling bud, leaving your mind in a haze of lust.

Rolan’s tongue licks down at your clavicle while his hands move to cup your breast. You can’t help but shake as he presses kisses and sucks marks to the tops of them. Rolan’s lips find yours again in hunger this time as his tongue seeks to taste more of you. Eargery you met his passion with your own tasting, his wine-laced tongue burning against yours. Undoing the buttons of his jacket you strip it off him in a rush. Once it’s off and tossed to the floor he breaks the kiss and whimpers against your lips, his chest vibrating under your fingertips in a purr. 

Turning you quickly, your thighs meet the side of the desk as his lips continue to caress your neck, removing your necklace to nip on your most sensitive spots, all you can do is moan and chant a series of ‘yeses’ and sweet mews of his name. He hums as he spoils himself, touching all over your form. 

“More, Rolan…I want to feel more,” your pant 

“Here?” The question is raspy and sends shivers through you to your sex. 

“Yes.” 

Rolan responds by peppering kisses all over you as he quickly gathers your skirt around your hips. Bending over you feel your face burn as you hear is breath hitch, 

“F-fuck…” he whispers 

You're already bare opting for no underwear, a destination you made on a meer whim but are happy with now. A whimper escapes him as he views you slick and puffy cunt for him, in a deep dialect he mutters something you can not understand that causes your slit to quiver. he no longer has patience his want takes control and you hear his frantic hands undoing his belt. 

The moment is eager and full of hunger, the want between you two building to this moment of passion. Rolan has your skirts gathered in a fist as he pushes his burning erection through you making your head spin. The moment is raw and hungry as he hisses from your walls so tight and soft around him, fuck, nobody told him how…soft humans were…

The feeling of the stretch is eye-watering as a lewd moan erupts from your throat, then the feeling of every ridge sliding and reshaping your velvet insides. The curve of his cock brings his sharp tip to find your sensitive spot, nudging and coating it in his burning precum, your toes curl in your heels as your vision blurs, tightening your grip on the oak desk. It's hot, intense, and the best pleasure you have ever felt. 

Rolan whimpers and moans as he pushes into your heat further. His face comes down to bury himself into your neck grunting in what sounds more like a whine. Sweat is sheening both of you now in this heated moment your only reprieve of coolness is his panting breath on your neck. Then his hand comes down to yours bracing you and he intervenes his fingers with yours before he gives a final thrust, his blazing tip now nudging on the deepest parts of you. Your slit is taut and your insides flutter against him as you get accustomed to his rigged girth. 

“Gods, you feel amazing. Practically sucking me in…” his rich voice rasps into your ear making you shudder. 

Taking a second to breathe in the scent of your sweaty neck and your cascading hair; further getting drunk off you. He rolls his hips back, and the drag of his ridges on your gummy walls is an unimaginable pleasure making you arch in a scream to your god. 

Pulling to the tip it’s only a second of emptiness before his hips are snapping back into you forcing all the air from your lungs. Continuing to thrust into you back and forth at a constant pace, you mew and grip his hand so tightly. Your arousal drips down his cock and your thighs as it's fucked out of you, desperate to coat his cock. 

“Their mighty hero…sweating and dripping for me. You're my girl…you have always been…”  

You can’t even think coherent thoughts only able to respond by arching your back further. The room is drowned in your cock drunk moans and his deep growling as your pussy continues to get ravished by him. Hot waves start to build up in your stomach leaving tingles in their wake as you approach your ecstasy. Rolan feels your trembling against his cock making him angle it in deeper. He’s right in his sentiment…you are his…as he is yours…the bond you share led to this moment of passion—the ultimate satisfaction of the want you have for each other. 

It's bliss and you rock your hips to meet his thrust, a chuckle escapes him before you feel the rough dragging being rewarded to your clit. It's warm and soft with lines of ridges dragging against you. It only dawns on you as you feel its spaded tip you realize he’s grinding his tail against your sticky sex. Both sensations make spots blur your vision as drool begins to pool in your agape mouth.  

In a silent scream, your orgasm crashes over you as all your essences coats him dripping down to fall on his boots and pooling to the floor. Rolan guides you through your high not stopping his thrust while your sex desperately grips him. A ring of creamy arousal forms where you both connect. The sight and feel of your overstimulated pussy fluttering is enough to cause his hips to still and his cock to throb shooting blissfully hot cum in thick spurts, filling you to the brim. The growl is guttural and vibrates through him as he comes down from his high.

Rolan presses his forehead to your shoulder blades as he stays within you for a moment longer letting his ridges smooth as his cock softens till finally pulling out. You can feel the mix of both releases leaking down your legs uncomfortably resisting the urge to beg him to finger it back in. 

“Wait one moment,” he says quickly with a soothing rub to your waist as you hear him digging around for his discarded jacket. 

Then very gently you feel a soft cotton cloth whipping you down to clean you. Soft ‘shhs’ and coos leave his lips and he is careful over your spet sex. He takes his time, then once you're cleaned and your dress is back down you face his back as he cleans himself, looking over his shoulder with a smile as he retucks himself. Leaning back against the desk you relish in watching him rebutton himself up so elegantly. 

His golden eyes stay on you as he gently caresses your sweaty face. Before he leaves he will snap his figures with a spell to clean you two of any lewd residue, but for now, he wants to relish your afterglow. You two stay in silent bliss and his eyes roam over your face, your fingers gently playing with the loose strains of his hair. He’s the first to speak up, 

“I want to court you properly.” 

Your eyes grow wide, and so does your smile, your heart racing, and sparks burst into your stomach. 

“If you were planning to court me, we have already messed up. You're not supposed to have sex beforehand.” 

“I don’t care; I’m not of noble blood, so I will do this my way.” there's that confidence.

Rolan pulls you in for a slow kiss that causes your heart to flip and your head to cloud in a pleasant fog. 

“Good,” you whisper 

Rolan backs up slightly and bows, causing you to giggle as he reaches for your hand. Placing your hand in his, you gently squeeze it as he brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly like a suitor would any proper lady.

[forgeofthenine]

Who do you think has the biggest breeding kink out of the tiefs? Alternatively, how do you think all three of them would react if you said you had one?

I love some good breeding kink headcanons, and this is a bit of an expansion on my first set of bachelor breeding kink headcanons. I hope you don't mind but I added in some references to tiefling ruts because the two are just so intertwined in my mind now. I hope you like the headcanons, I loved writing them :)

TW: NSFW under the cut, mentions of tiefling ruts, overstimulation

The bachelors with a breeding kink part 2

Dammon

Out of all the bachelors Dammon easily has the biggest breeding kink

He's had the kink since before he met you but it was absolutely reawakened when the two of you got together, particularly when you both start to settle down

It's hard for him to stop his eyes roaming over your body, focusing on your chest and hips in turn, or the way his hands cover your waist as he presses up behind you

Dammons very open with his kinks so he'd honestly be quite surprised if you told him about your breeding kink before he gets the chance to mention his

It's a pleasant revelation though, and make sure you do it on a day you have no other plans

As soon as the words leave your lips he's already throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you up the stairs to your shared bed

You've awoken a beast with that one revelation, and you won't be leaving that house until you're thoroughly bred

He has the stamina of a god and will fuck you like one too, stretching you out on his ridged cock and praising you every time you squeeze around him

"Trying to get me to cum already, baby? Want me to breed you that bad, don't worry gonna fill you up real nice..."

He'd hold a hand over your stomach as he fucks you too, holding you down against the bed with his hands and tail no matter how much you squirm from overstimulation

Just be careful you don't send him into an early rut, or you'll have days of this ahead of you

Zevlor

I don't think Zevlors thought much of breeding kinks, particularly because he feels that part of his life might've passed him by

This is other than when he's in rut, as soon as rut hits you already know he's trying to hide how much he wants to put a baby in you

He's quite happy with your sex life as you both settle into a new life in Baldurs gate, the two of you slowly introducing new kinks of interest

It's when you bring up having a breeding kink and would like to experiment with it when he's out of rut that he actually thinks about the idea

That night, as the two of you are sharing kisses and slowly stripping each other, he asks if you'd like for him to breed you

Honestly, he gets really into it, and he's easily one of the best men to ask about this specific kink

He's pure dilf material, and the way he fucks you with purpose only proves that

The entire time he's so sweet to you, telling you how beautiful you look full of his cum, how well you take every load he gives you

He always presses himself so close, so deep inside of you when he cums, hips firm against yours as he holds your squirming body still on his cock while he fills you

And I don't think I've mentioned this before but Zevlor cums a lot

Between years of being pent up and just having I can't believe I'm typing this big breeder balls, Zevlor will fill you up beyond belief until there's no way you aren't having his baby

Rolan

Rolan can get so embarrassed talking about sex and kinks in the beginning

The first time you'll see his undiscovered breeding kink appear is either when he's in rut or when he's extremely jealous about another man touching you

Even if you've seens hints of it in your sex life, he's still blindsided by you talking about your own breeding kink

It's not a bad surprise for him though, and as the conversation goes on you'll see him shifting as he tries to hide the ways his blood is rushing south

It doesn't take long for him to get into it at all, bending you over the bed and fucking you from behind like he has something to prove

Rolans the type to cum a bit earlier than others but he has less of a refractory period, so he's always filling you until his cum is dripping down your thighs and making a mess

This prim and proper wizard can get behind a messy fuck every once and a while, especially if he's trying desperately to get you off again to feel the way you squeeze around him as you cum, a feeling that always bring him back to his own peak

He wants to hear you moaning his name the whole time too, encouraging you to let everyone know who's breeding you so well

Out of all the men, Rolan would be the one to be most turned on if you respond with saying how good he feels and how much you want him to fill you up with cum

Rolans young and inexperienced but he'll still give you the fuck of your life if you ask him to breed you

[avocado-writing]

First, I am absolutely obsessed with your writing. I go feral every time I get a notification that you've made a post. When you pick a request of mine I've been reblogging it multiple times so it's easier for me to find it to reread. Please keep up the good work. You are appreciated. 💛

I was wondering if you could please write how the bg3 companions+ Halsin, Rolan, Dammon and Zevlor would react to finding out that a Tav/reader with considerable facial scarring has been harboring feelings for them, but has been afraid to tell them because they're afraid they will be rejected for their appearance; something that has happened many times.

I know it's a big ask, so if it's too much please just pick the characters that you want. Though, I would appreciate it if you included Rolan.

Again, love your works! Make sure to take care of yourself as you go through your backlog!

hello lovely! i've actually written something similar to this for the ladies, so I'll just be writing for the men for this one!

Astarion

When he finds out you’ve been rejected for how you look, goes on a long rant about how shallow people can be (definitely ironic). Cue the “I probably draw more looks than you” line.

This is all to show you that he doesn’t care how you look. He fell in love with your kindness first, your actions.

Absolutely reciprocates your feelings no matter what.

Drops little affections every day. “You’re perfect you know.” “My love, you are wonderful.” “You have my whole heart.”

Gale

He admires your brain and heart. To him, you are perfection. Honestly he confesses to you before you get the chance to admit your feelings.

When you tell him you feel the same but were worried due to past rejections he reassures you it doesn’t matter to him.

But if it matters to you he will ask if it’s something you’d like to try to fix or hide with magic, and will take the appropriate steps afterwards.

He loves you. He’d do anything to make you happy.

Wyll

Starts trying to woo you with romantic poetry recited or written out and left at your tent, which you assume must be for someone else - it takes his confession for you to realise he likes you.

You have a long heart-to-heart discussing your fears about how you look, where he takes the chance to confirm his feelings aren’t affected by anything, something you desperately needed to hear.

Holds you close every moment he has a chance to, giving you little kisses peppered across your face.

Halsin

Is confused why you think he’d care about your scars? They’re a sign of your life lived, the obstacles you’ve overcome.

He points at his own face. “They are a mark of pride, my heart. Nothing more.”

Spends a long time holding you, whispering praises to you, especially when you’re making love. Nothing he likes more than pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear and telling you how lovely you are, voice gravelly with desire.

Will make you feel like the most treasured thing in the world.

Rolan

The two of you are skirting around each other for a while. You too scared to tell him, him too proud to confess to you.

Perhaps one day you have a bad experience with a stranger’s reaction to your face, and he finds you crying. Asks what’s wrong. When he finds out, he’s furious.

“I can’t believe they’d care about something like that. You saved this city, they should love you like I do.”

And just like that he’s said it, and you’re overwhelmed. Leads to him choking out his feelings for you, cheeks even brighter red than usual. You tease him a bit, and kiss him. He’s never been happier.

[underdark-dreams]

*please* give me Dammon-Rolan-Tav Poly HCs, I am begging you

Turns out I have a LOT of thoughts about this omg. Thank you so much for sending this ask, I might need to write something longer for these three 💘

Rolan/Dammon/Tav: Poly Headcanons

(Tav is gender-neutral)

SFW:

Without fail Dammon would be the one to wake up early and make you two breakfast. Hums a happy tune as he balances plates of scrambled eggs into the bedroom

Gives you both a sweet kiss good morning, the same way he does every day

Meanwhile Rolan grumbles something into the soft flesh of your thigh. Very much not a morning wizard

They are both very proud of their respective skills and love getting to share them with you in different ways

Dammon is used to hammering away for hours alone in his forge, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get a bit lonely

Would be delighted to find you and Rolan lingering to spend time with him and watch his work

The clang of tools and the roaring fire aren't always conducive to conversation, but it just makes him happy to look up now and then and see you reading or relaxing nearby

If you asked for any kind of lesson, he would be excited almost to the point of giddy. Info dumping a little as he settles you comfortably against his front facing the anvil

Strong arms wrapping around you from behind, his hands gripping over yours to guide the strike of the hammer

When he's between commissions, Dammon likes to tinker and experiment with novel ideas. He's got an inventor's mind. Often shows new things to you and Rolan first to get your opinions

Makes those little metal puzzles where you have to figure out how to untangle the rings and distributes them among the Tieflings kids

Rolan is the same way with his arcane studies, loves if you ever want to be part of them. He genuinely enjoys answering any questions you might have about magic or the Weave

He can come across overly self-assured (read: arrogant), but something about nerding out over magic makes his face softer and more youthful as he gets lost in his own enthusiasm. It’s adorable

Rolan loves when you play helpless damsel with little things even when he knows you're exaggerating. Enjoys seeing you struggle and give him puppy eyes and ask for the big powerful wizard to help you out with his spells. Honestly it gives him a semi

Watches you with a loving smirk. "Let me take care of it, dearest"

When it comes to physical affection: Dammon gives you the open devotion and adoration of a golden retriever. Doesn't matter who is around, he will hold your waist and plant a kiss on your lips natural as anything. Husband behavior

Rolan is much more subdued with PDA (his siblings still tease him mercilessly and they always will) but also kinda gets off on the chance to be sneaky about it. Not above cornering you to make out when no one is around

Likes to play the game of riling you up when he knows you have somewhere to be. It goes both ways of course, he’s embarrassingly affected by your kisses and caresses

NSFW:

Dammon tends to be a very generous and giving top to both of you

Rolan much more of a switch, depends a lot on his mood any given day. Rolan topping Dammon is a rare but absolutely glorious experience to be part of

Rolan is always the one to get impatient and jealous during sex, especially when Dammon is taking up too much of you for too long

"Hurry up," he mumbles while sucking at the skin of your neck, but Dammon ignores him, his mouth steadfastly doing the Lord's work between your legs. He’s fond of the brat but not about to rush your pleasure over it. Besides, he can think of a few better ways to shut Rolan up

They don't always agree on much until the first time they sandwich you between them. It’s a revelation for both men to find they enjoy your body even more together

Dammon whispers into your ear what a good boy/girl you are as you lean back against his chest, while Rolan enjoys kissing down your body with zero urgency

Rolan hides his pointed ears behind his hair because he's embarrassed by how sensitive they are

Dammon catches on instantly (it's a Tief thing) and pays extra attention to them during foreplay, licking and sucking on the tips until Rolan is groaning and squirming under him

Dammon's build might look more slender at first glance, but he's got a wiry strength that Rolan lacks. Can easily throw either of you around in bed, though he's sometimes too much of a gentleman. Could be talked into it once you’ve got him worked up though. He’s strong enough to hold you both exactly where he wants to for as long as he needs

Dammon's arms are solid as the steel he forges. Cords of muscle under his shoulders and forearms, prominent veins that run down through his hands

And his hands are firm and wonderfully calloused, so anything he does with his fingers, you're going to feel super clearly 

Rolan's hands are surprisingly strong as well, but it's like the strength of a pianist or artist. Soft to the touch but wielding a lot of dexterity and precision. It makes his teasing deadly effective, because he has perfect control over the pressure and the pace, and he knows it

Rolan is 1000% the dirtier talker

He’s definitely the type to take full advantage of the situation while you’re giving him head and you can’t respond. Teasing and running a commentary about how lovely your mouth looks taking his cock

It’s also partly to distract himself and prolong the experience because watching your mouth on him really, REALLY does it for Rolan

If Dammon gets chatty it’s going to be showering sweet compliments on either or both of you; he definitely has a kink for giving praise, it heightens the sensations in his own mind

You can watch it turn Rolan from cocky to moaning and submissive in under a minute

[lostinforestbound]

Hi, like your writings a lot ❤️ may I ask for a request?

What about Rolan asking sorcerer/wizard Tav to be his teacher after Lorroakan death? Tav has never been bad for him, only saving his life and his siblings, giving advices and protection, so, why not? At least, it a good way to become closer OR Rolan quietly (or not quietly) pining for powerful Tav

Thank you so much for your patience! I think I'm finally back in the game! I actually have thought up this situation a lot (especially with my own Tav who's a Storm Sorcerer, maybe I'll introduce him sometime soon)! This was a lot of fun to explore! I'm also a sucker for pining tropes!

Rolan with Sorcerer!Tav Teaching Him Magic

When Rolan takes over the tower, he makes it his sole mission to master the weave. It's harder than it looks, but he's very determined.

There's some aspects he doesn't understand yet, though. Especially how those bloody sorcerers are able to manipulate existing spells and make them more powerful

When everything is over, the Netherbrain defeated, he begrudgingly asks Tav to him about "Metamagic".

Can he learn the aspects of Metamagic on his own? Of course he can! Not only is he a prodigy, he's now the master of Ramazith's tower. All the knowledge he has access to gives him the ultimate advantage.

But he wants to get closer to Tav. He's been pining for them so helplessly since the Shadow Cursed Lands. This is his one opportunity he can spend time with them without it seeming strange.

He also knows Tav is the one person that won't treat him like an idiot. They'll treat him as an equal, a fellow peer of the arcane arts. He'll be respected.

Tav seems happy to do so, teaching all they know about the basics of Metamagic, how they're able to use it, and how Rolan might be able to use it as well.

Rolan can't see it through his frustration, but Tav is so confident in his abilities. While this may take time, they truly believe Rolan can master Metamagic even without being a sorcerer, and pass their own abilities. They may be more advanced than he is, but Rolan is a quick learner.

Gods, sometimes Rolan is so damn distracted. Why must he get so flustered when Tav adjusts his form? Why are their hands so warm? Have they always been touchy? It's all in his head, certainly.

Writing Blurb

Sparks are flying in the palms of Rolan's hands, carefully trying to split the Witch Bolt into two. He never realized the amount of strain it takes to separate one central point of magic, and the amount of concentration it takes. Rolan knows a wizard isn't supposed to be able to do this, but he's also no ordinary wizard. He can do this if he just-

Tav observes him and his hands carefully, and his concentration falters when he realizes they're staring. Sweat beads on his brow as he tries to keep the spell together, but unfortunately, it fades into nothing after all the hard work.

"Damn it!" He practically shouts, shaking out his hands in frustration.

"You were a lot closer that time." Tav comments, about to put a hand on his shoulder, but he turns away before they can.

"We've been practicing this same thing for days. DAYS!" He exclaims, running his hands through his now sweat-damp hair, "Why can't I get this? I should be able to do this by now!"

He's hardly the impressive "master of the tower" he pretends to be. How could he be such a failure? In front of Tav, no less? He's no fool, Tav is a savior of Baldur's Gate, of course they're much more advanced than he is! They know spells he hasn't even been able to touch yet, but gods damn it all, he wants to impress them with something.

He needs to be worthy of their attention. Then maybe, he'll have a slimmer of a chance with them.

They place a hand on his back, jolting him out of his thoughts. "A master of the arcane can't cast properly under stress. We can take a break-"

"No, no, I can do this," He states, raising his hands to start again, "Let me-"

Tav gently grabs his hands, interrupting the spell in an instant. Oh, how he hates it when he feels his face flush; not from exertion, but from embarrassment. He helplessly imagined a situation where he got to hold their hands, but it wasn't anything like this. He hoped it would've been in a more romantic setting when he felt ready to woo them.

"You can't focus when you're stressed like this. I would know, I've tried." They say, summoning a mage hand idly to grab the bottle of Arabellan Dry on Rolan's desk. "Let's take a break and regroup."

He huffs in annoyance but reluctantly sits with them as they fill two glasses with the wine. They hand one over, and he immediately takes a generous sip to calm his nerves. When have they ever sat so close to him? They're practically touching knees- stop, he needs to get it together.

"You'll get it. It's impossible for a wizard unless they have sorcery in their blood."

Scoffing, he takes a few gulps of wine before speaking. "Then I will be the first."

They give him a sweet smile, ignoring how it made his heart flutter. "That's the spirit."

"I don't understand what I'm getting wrong," He quickly continues on, trying to suppress the warmth in his chest. "As soon as I think I have it in my grasp, it fails."

"We'll figure it out. I know you can do it. Think about how you made some spells your own. The Mage Armor, the Thunderwave, the Magic Missle- you have so much potential. Rolan: Master of Ramazith's Tower, always achieving the impossible."

He looks away when he feels his face grow hot again, not noticing when Tav gets up. When he finally turns towards them, they're offering a hand to get back up, so he takes it after pulling himself together, wine forgotten.

"Now, let's try again."

[tealfling]

Rolan sitting in that book throne and Tav is riding him. Hard.

Let me tell you Anon: the second I laid eyes on that book throne it has been my number one thought, nay, goal for a Rolan x Tav relationship.

Especially, my Sorcerer Coren. I have all the dirty book throne thoughts. In fact, alot of my story thoughts revolve around getting them around that chair to fuck.

In my long fic I'm writing for Coren & Rolan, after the Lorroakan battle, their relationship hits a point where they either have to admit they have feelings for each other and actually verbalize whether that's something they want to pursue or let their chance slip away.

I literally can not wait to show y'all the Darcy-est fucking confession I could come up with from Rolan. Which leads to them making out on the throne with Coren grinding/dry humping the life out of that man.

Also, a while back someone posted a headcanon where they thought Rolan could not stand for the way Lorroakan basically wasted books by making them into a throne. Which I absolutely agree too. But the only way that thing is coming down for Coren is when she gets too enthusiastic riding the fuck out of Rolan like her life depended on it on the book throne that it collapses under them.

I think for Coren, the Book Throne is her version of a sex chair. It turns her on so much seeing Rolan sit in it.

The Book Throne is the altar at which Coren comes to worship Rolan's body. Which Rolan honestly deserves in her mind.

He has enormous self doubt and feels both unworthy & undeserving of the things he has at that point. So when Coren catches him around the throne she tries to get him on it. He's such a good Master of Ramazith's Tower, isn't he? Such an intelligent, powerful wizard. He deserves to relax, have a break after all he's been through? All he's accomplished? Doesn't he? She associates it solely with being intimate with Rolan. That's probably where she gives him head for the first time. She loves having the powerful Master of Ramazith's Tower needy and wanting under her on his book throne. It's the closest thing to getting freaky in public he'll allow. And while he is itching to dismantle the damn thing so he can finally organize all those tomes, every time he approaches it with the intent to tear it down a memory of him & his lover pops into his head and he suddenly decides he has better things to do and the throne can wait for another day.

[fruitsoxs]

can we get some jealousy blurbs for astarion and/or gale?

Of course!! I love a good jealousy blurb

pairings; astarion x reader , gale x reader warnings; none notes; I was pumped up about this request i did it within a day lol. also rolan mention because i love him

Astarion

When you’ve got a little tadpole in your head that could very well be the end of you, little things like jealousy should be the least of your worries. Yet, here Astarion stands with one arm crossed over the other, pouting at the scene in front of him. He watches as his partner frets over another man who seems to keep showing up on their journey. Of course he should’ve known Rolan would be here at this stupid magic store that Gale so desperately wanted to visit. Astarion had heard you talk about how the tiefling was planning on becoming an apprentice for Lorrokoan. Pity that the grand wizard had turned out to be such a massive asshole. Yes it’s horrible he was mistreating Rolan (Astarion could always sympathize with any poor soul who suffers at their master’s hands). However, that doesn’t warrant you leaning in so closely to the man to look at his bruises. It doesn’t mean you can smile so fondly at him-

It takes you laughing at something Rolan said while the man stares at you softly before Astarion has had enough. The vampire clears his throat rather loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention. Once you are looking at him he opens his mouth to say “Shouldn’t we get going? We’ve been in this dreaded place too long.” Your smile drops as you tilt their head, giving Astarion a confused look. Astarion simply looks away. He knows it’s petty, but he doesn’t care. Getting the hint, you nod. “I guess it’s time we get out of your hair Rolan.” you express.

Rolan's smile falters, but he nods in understanding. “I do have a lot of work to do now. Of course, if you should ever need my assistance, just call for me. I’ll lend my magic in any way that I can.” the magic user tells you. Astarion huffs and starts to walk away. He knows full well Rolan’s help would be useful, especially with the coming battle you must fight. Once again though, he doesn’t care. There’s something about this situation that has made him feel uncomfortable, and he’s quite mad about it. 

When you finally exit the massive building, Astarion’s anger subsides. He feels himself grow a little ashamed by his outburst. He wraps his arms around his chest and stops. You stop with him, locking onto his gaze with a sense of curiosity. The others have kept going, opting to give the two of you a little privacy.  

“Were you jealous? Of Rolan?” You ask seemingly humored by the entire ordeal. Astarion wants to deny it. After all, he’s never been one to care much about what you do- and who you do it with. Despite being in a romantic relationship with you, he doesn’t own you. He loves you, and he knows you love him. You’ve proved it time and time again. That should be enough. For some reason though, this situation has deeply upset him. “And what if I am?” he asks defensively, sending a glare that looks more like a pout. 

“I’ve never known you to be the jealous type.” You joke, smiling. When you notice the seriousness in Astarion’s eyes, your grin drops. “You’re serious?” you ask, inching closer. The vampire doesn’t need to say anything, his expression explains it all. You simply reach out and put your hand on his arm. You do it slowly, giving Astarion a chance to pull away if he wants. “Star…” you whisper, eyes meeting his. “You are the most important person in my life. Never forget I love you. So much.” 

He knows this, but hearing you say it makes his negative emotions melt away. “And besides, you don’t need to be jealous of Rolan. Yes, I worry about him- but we’ve saved him so many times it’s hard not to.” you sigh, shaking your head like a worried parent. A small smile makes its way onto Astarion’s lips. “Bad luck does seem to follow him.”

Gale

Gale has had a rough few months. After being ripped from his home, given a tadpole in his head, and forced to adventure with a bunch of …colorful people, he’s been craving one good thing. He didn’t expect that one good thing to be the fearless leader of his adventure party, you. Along the journey, you showed the man you had a great heart. Your habit of saving others, and doing the right thing made Gale swoon. He hadn’t expected to meet such an amazing person during such a trying time. Somewhere along the way, the wizard had fallen for you and your kind hearted nature. The only problem? Sometimes you were a bit too kind.

Gale’s smile fades as he watches a man strut his way over to you, confidence in every step. After finally making your way to Baldur’s Gate, your party had decided stopping at one of the taverns to grab a drink wasn’t such a bad idea. The circumstances may be dire, but taking a little time to relax is important. That’s how you ended up here, with a bunch of people following your tail. Gale had severely underestimated how many drunkards would have the guts to hit on someone like you. Now, his mind is swimming with that funny little green monster known as jealousy. 

“So, do you come here often?” The stranger asks you, leaning against the bar between you and Gale. Gale wishes just this once you would get angry, and react in a way unbecoming of you. Of course you don’t. You simply smile at the man and shake your head. “No. Not really.” you answer, aura radiating with kindness. “Well then, allow me to fund your next drink.” The man’s speech is slurred, clearly egged on by the alcohol in his system. 

Gale watches the scene on the other side of the man, his eyebrows lifted in a way that makes him look like a kicked dog. When you don’t deny the drink, Gale feels his chest grow tighter. The thing that made him fall for you, is the thing he hates most right now. He hates that feeling. After all, it’s his fault he has yet to confess his feelings. He finds himself turning away, glancing at his drink with uncertainty. What should he do? 

“Hey…maybe after this we could go out back-”

Gale snaps his head back over to the man. “No.” he says out loud cutting the man off. Suddenly fueled by anger, he stands up, walks over to you, takes your hand and begins to pull you away. You stumble along behind him, but don’t pull form his grasp. He leads you away from the confused man at the bar, and outside into the cold air. Once he stops, he turns to look at you. You don’t seem angry, just a little confused. 

“Is everything okay Gale?” you ask. You seem a little concerned, and it makes his heart twist.

“I- No. Everything is not okay. I just...I’m..” he groans, unable to fully express what he’s trying to say. He doesn’t want to confess like this. He wants it to be romantic, not awkward and uncomfortable. “I do not like watching people take advantage of your kindness.” He decides to say.

You smile at him, and squeeze his hand. The hand he forgot is holding yours. “Thank you Gale.” you mumble. You then lean forward, and before he knows it you’re pressing your lips against his cheek. “That’s very kind of you.”

His cheeks heat up, a dumb smile stretching across his lips. “Anything for you.”

[roastedoatmilk]

Let The Light In

Rolan x Fem Tiefling Tav (Sybil)

summary: The five times Rolan thinks his feelings for Sybil are unrequited and the one time Sybil catches him by surprise

word count: 3.4k

tags: angst with a happy ending, unrequited love but not actually, rolan being an ass, cal and lia being amazing as usual, idiots who are obviously in love but don't know it.

A/N got the idea for this fic by @gnomishcunning it’s a bit different from what they posted but it’s the same concept !!! let me know if yall would like to see sybil's pov of this fic ! this is also on ao3

One

The first time Rolan met Sybil was admittedly not one of his better moments, the wizard had been arguing with his siblings when the hero showed up with her rag tag group of companions. The purple haired tiefling had wandered over to the siblings, taking a moment to listen as the one with his brown hair pulled up argues that they need to make it to Baldur’s Gate as soon as possible causing his siblings to groan in disapproval.

“She’s right,” Sybil piped up, “we survived Elturel, surely a wizard as accomplished as yourself can help with the fight here.” her voice soothed Rolan’s ears, he had never heard such a wonderful voice before. 

“Thank you, it’s the right thing to do and you know it!” Lia says, her words aimed at her stubborn brother.

“She’s right Rolan, we're better than this.” Cal agrees.

Rolan rolled his eyes and sighed “Zurgan fine I’ll stay too lest you end up with your throats slit by a goblin blade.” 

“Thank you Rolan.” Lia sighs before walking away with Cal at her side.

Sybil approaches Rolan again, curious about the stubborn tiefling. 

“We should’ve left by now, damnation.” Rolan grumbles, “Instead we’re sitting here practically begging to be attacked, staying is a mistake.”

A slight frown finds its way onto the cleric’s light blue face, “You’re doing the right thing you know, the tieflings need help.” Sybil says calmly.

“And what about us? There’s every chance we’ve doomed ourselves by helping these people.” Rolan scoffs.

Before Sybil can even respond the grumpy wizard continues, “We will end up fodder for some goblin’s blade all because Lia insists on helping every wounded foal we see, our best chance to make it to Baldur’s Gate is on our own. This place is lost.” 

Sybil’s frown deepens her eye twitching in irritation as he once again mentions the illustrious city, “Why are you in such a rush to get to the city?” the cleric questioned crossing her arms over her chest. 

Rolan straightened himself up, puffing out his chest at the question, “Well you are currently looking at the newest apprentice of Lorroakan,” the red tiefling bragged, a smirk on his face. “Yes that Lorroakan, the greatest wizard in Baldur’s Gate.”

Sybil’s red eyes twitched even more at the mention of the ginger haired wizard, “You mean Lorroakan who lives in Ramazith tower in the Upper City? I’ve heard some pretty nasty things about that man.” the hero tells the shorter man, her irritation evident. 

The corner of Rolan’s lips twitched, “All rumors I can assure you, Master Lorroakan is the best of the best and I would study under nothing less.” the wizard huffs. 

Sybil nods in response not fully believing him but not wanting to argue. She turns to her companions and begins to chat with them, with her attention no longer on him Rolan takes time to fully take in the hero’s appearance. She stood more than a few inches taller than him. Her dark purple hair was pulled back into a tightly braided bun, strands of hair brushing against her face parting around her horns. Rolan watches as she laughs at something the wizard in purple robes says, her ruby red eyes crinkling up as she smiles, her tail flicks slightly as she laughs. He’s shook out of his daze when he feels an elbow jab into his side, his head whips to the left to see Lia has made her way back over to him, smirking at her brother with a knowing look on her face. Rolan scoffs and looks away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his embarrassment. 

After a moment Sybil and her group bid the siblings farewell, making their way down to the Druid’s Grove. Rolan watches the cleric as she leaves, Lia and Cal, who had rejoined his siblings, watch their brother with matching looks on their faces. Rolan sighs as she fades from view, thinking that he really messed up whatever chance of companionship that he had with the cleric.

Two

It had been weeks since the last time Rolan had seen or heard from Sybil, he and his siblings tried to make their way through the Shadow Cursed Lands but things went terribly wrong. Which is why Rolan now finds himself sitting at the bar in the Last Light Inn, drowning his sorrows in liquor. The wizard was so lost in his own misery, he failed to realize that a certain tiefling cleric had once again managed to find him. 

“There’s another bottle of Arabellan Dry over there, put it on the bar, then piss off and leave me alone.” The wizard snaps at the two children manning the bar.

“Jahiera said that we should serve drinks but that we shouldn’t serve drunks.” Ide tells the wizard, her eyes catching on the purple haired tiefling who had finally made it over to where Rolan was. 

“Jahiera didn’t save your ragged little tail from the cultists, I did.” Rolan quips, his words slurred. He was too far gone to notice the presence that had appeared behind him. 

“Do you want to talk about your sorrows instead of drowning them?” Sybil asks gently, resting her hand on the wizard’s shoulder.

“I’d rather drown than talk to a sanctimonious prick like you,” Rolan snaps at her before harshly shrugging her hand off his shoulder. Sybil flinches at his tone, completely taken aback. 

“If you’re here to save the day again you’re a little late this time.” The brown haired tiefling retorts, refusing to look at Sybil. 

“What’s wrong Rolan? Is there any way I can help?” Sybil asks carefully, trying her hardest not to upset the man further. 

“Oh sod off,” Rolan snarls, finally turning to face the taller woman “I’m only here because you helped me and my family. I was ready to cut and run back at the grove but you had other ideas.” 

The pure venom in his voice shocks Sybil, she had never heard him sound so angry before, not even back at the grove. 

“Cal and Lia were taken in by your crap,” Rolan snaps at the cleric once more, “You convinced them to play hero, and now they're gone.” 

Sybil gasps, her eyes watering at the thought of the twins being taken by the cult. The purple haired cleric clears her throat before responding to the angry wizard with, “Then it’s my responsibility to bring them back.”

This didn’t seem to be the correct response however all it did was make Rolan even angrier, he rounds on the taller woman before yelling, “They’re my responsibility, you go save the world, or your own arse, or whatever it is you do,” He glares at the taller woman, “I’ll fix this.” 

Rolan turns back to the bar refusing to look at her any longer, he briefly thinks to himself through his drunken haze that he’s definitely messed it up with her this time but he can’t find it in himself to care, too focused on the pain of losing his siblings.

Three

The darkness of the Shadow Cursed Lands is more intense than Rolan remembered, the light from the torch he carries barely cutting through it. He doesn’t let that deter him though, too focused on trying to get to Moonrise so he can rescue Lia and Cal. Faintly Rolan hears whooshing behind him, he ignores it and continues on his way. He makes it all of ten steps before he’s being surrounded by shadow fiends. Rolan desperately tries to fend them off but with only one hand being available to use it wasn’t much help. Just as he was beginning to accept his fate and let the fiends take him he hears shouting in the distance. 

“BY THE GODS ROLAN IS THAT YOU???” Sybil shouts running as fast as her legs can go, her companions following closely behind the purple haired tiefling.

Right as the cleric makes it to where Rolan stands a fight breaks out, Sybil and her companions fight valiantly against the fiends. The sight of it makes a bitter feeling settle in the wizard’s stomach. Before long the fight was won, the finishing blow being landed by Astarion’s arrow soaring straight into the final fiend. Sybil turns frantically towards Rolan already reaching in her pack for a healing potion to give to him, the sight of it only worsens the feeling in the pit of Rolan’s stomach.

“Gods damn it all, I can do nothing right- not a damn thing.” The man shouts, shocking everyone around him. 

“Rolan, please tell me you weren’t looking for Moonrise.” Sybil says, blood and dirt staining her face. Her eyes wide as she looks at the broken man before her. 

“So what if I was, Cal and Lia could be there,” the wizard snaps, “Instead I found myself cornered by shadow fiends and in need of rescue. From you of all bloody people.”

Sybil steps back a bit, the healing potion still clutched firmly in her hand.

“Rolan, Cal and Lia have already been rescued from Moonrise along with the other tieflings, they’re back at the Last Light waiting for you,” The purple haired cleric tells the man gently. “You were trying to help your family, you’re too hard on yourself.” Sybil holds out the hand that's holding the healing potion to the red tiefling.

“Or not hard enough, I’ve failed Cal and Lia again I should’ve been the one to rescue them not you.” Rolan growls, snatching the potion from Sybil’s hand and downs it. “Right then back to the Last Light, where I can tell my siblings how I’ve once again failed them.” 

Rolan doesn’t wait for anyone to answer before turning around and marching in the direction that they came from. On his way back Rolan thinks to himself that Sybil was only trying to help and that he shouldn’t have snapped at her. He once again has mucked things up with someone who was only trying to help.

Four

When they all make it back to the inn Rolan immediately hears his siblings calling for him and rushes over to them.

“Did you enjoy relaxing here while I battled that wretched darkness?” Rolan questions his siblings furiously, “What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry, we got captured by murderous lunatics!” Lia snaps back.

“I thought you were dead you ass. Both of you!” Rolan retorts.

“We’re all safe Rolan, that's what matters.” Cal replies, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Sybil makes her way over to the siblings relieved that they made it back safe, “Rolan was in a bad state without the two of you.” Sybil tells the twins gently.

"I was just - overwhelmed, it doesn't matter.” Rolan sighs trying his hardest to not concern his siblings about his well being. 

Lia and Cal finally fully take in Rolan’s appearance, his normally well done hair loose and almost completely undone, the bottom of his robes caked in mud, the tremble in his voice as he speaks to them.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve been here.” Lia says, feeling horrible for her brother.

“No - no it's not your fault, I shouldn’t have shouted - I’m sorry.” Rolan replies softly.

Cal turns to Sybil, who had been standing off to the side to give the siblings a moment to themselves. 

“Thank you for rescuing me, and the two idiots.” Cal tells the cleric. 

Sybil awws and pulls both Cal and Lia in for a hug, the cleric has grown quite fond of the twins over the time she has spent around them. After a brief moment she lets the two go and makes her way over to Rolan who is shifting on his feet clearly feeling awkward. 

“Anything to add Rolan?” Sybil asks the wizard who is currently refusing to meet her eyes. 

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise and you helped anyway,” Rolan sighs, “You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry and thank you.” 

Rolan finally looks up at the cleric and sees that her eyes have gone misty, his eyes widen in alarm but before he can say anything he too is pulled into a hug by the tiefling woman. The second he feels the warmth of her body against his own Rolan sighs wrapping his own arms around the taller woman. After a few moments Sybil releases the wizard, a small smile on her face.

“I’ve grown rather fond of you three and I always help the people I care about.” Sybil utters, her voice so soft Rolan could barely hear her. 

The wizard feels heat rush to his face, his heart practically beating out of its chest. All the poor man can say in response is mutter a small “Thanks.” causing the cleric to giggle. They stand there with each other for another moment before Sybil and her companions once again bid them farewell. That night as he tried to get some sleep all that Rolan could think of was Sybil, the way she helped him and his siblings without question, the way she brushes off praise for her heroic acts with a purple tinge to her cheeks, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, the way her voice sounds as she says his name. Staring up at the ceiling all the wizard can bring himself to say is “Shit.”

Five

Life as the apprentice of Lorroakan was not at all what Rolan thought it would be when he arrived in the city over a month ago. If anything it was far worse than anything he could’ve thought of. Not only was Lorroakan a massive prick who used the tiefling as his personal punching bag, but Rolan’s days have also become incredibly dull. He hadn’t heard from Sybil since the last night he saw her at the inn, not that he was expecting to hear from her at all but there was a small part of him who had hoped that one day he’d wake up to find that a letter from her mysteriously appeared on his nightstand. 

Standing behind the front desk at Sorcerous Sundries the wizard sifted through papers, waiting for a customer to approach. Rolan was growing tired of constantly explaining to people that no he couldn’t in fact tell them what The Nightsong is because he himself didn’t know. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the very cleric who had constantly been on his mind approach him. 

“Hells Rolan what happened to you?” Sybil asked, concern heavily lacing her voice.

The wizard jumps at hearing the very voice he’d been dreaming of for a month. He looks up to see Sybil standing in all of her beautiful glory, she seems to have collected some scars over the time they were apart, he takes notice of a particularly nasty one gracing her forearm. 

 “Nothing for you to worry about.” Rolan replies silently pleading for her to drop it. He didn’t want to explain that the wizard he had so arrogantly bragged to her about’s favorite way to pass time is to beat him.He should’ve known better however because by the looks of it Sybil didn't believe him, however before she could even try to question him further he changed the subject. 

“But nevermind that, what can I do for you?” The wizard asks, trying to keep this interaction as professional as possible.

Sybil frowns, sensing that she won’t get anything out of him about the bruises covering his face, “Do many people ask about The Nightsong?” the cleric asks, seemingly moving onto what she actually came here for.

“It’s all I deal with these days, people claiming their trinkets are the real nightsong, looking for the mountain of gold Lorroakan promised.” Rolan sighs, “There's even a pamphlet, take one they’re on the desk.”

A small smile flickers to Sybil’s face, finally getting a glimpse of the Rolan that she knows. “I have information on The Nightsong.” The purple haired cleric tells him. 

“Be very sure before you go to visit Lorroakan, he's got a beastly temper but if you really do know something he’ll want to see you. Head upstairs you can find a way to his tower up there.” The wizard replies, locking his eyes with Sybil’s.

The cleric nods in response before stepping forward, “Thanks Rolan it was wonderful to see you, I did miss you you know.” She whispers as if she didn’t want her companions to hear her. Before Rolan could respond Sybil pulled back and motioned for her group to follow her. Rolan only managed to catch one more glimpse of her as she walked up the stairs. For the rest of the shift all he could think about was what Sybil told him, he refused to believe she meant it in any way other than as friends. He had simply messed things up one too many times for her to ever think about him that way. Or so he thought

Plus one

Rolan’s entire body ached, the adrenaline that coursed his body through battle finally wearing off. Lorroakan had been defeated thanks to Sybil and the actual Nightsong or as she called herself Dame Aylin. Once he found out that the Nightsong was in fact a person and not an artifact Rolan felt not only disgusted but betrayed, he never would’ve worked for Lorroakan if he knew. A million thoughts flew through the red tielfing’s mind, he was so distracted that he once again didn’t notice Sybil approach him. He flinches as he feels hands rest on his shoulders. 

“I just wanted to check up on how you’re doing, you know now that Lorroakan is gone.” Sybil says, she rubs her thumbs back and forth across the shorter man’s shoulders. 

“Honestly I feel fine, all things considered.” Rolan replies looking up at the purple haired cleric who is crouched in front of him.

“That’s great to hear, I’m sure being the new master of the tower is going to take some getting used to. I’m here if you need anything.” The blue tiefling tells him gently, her thumbs still rubbing his shoulders. 

For some reason this seems to be Rolan’s final straw, he stands up forcing Sybil’s hands to leave his shoulders. “I just don’t get you, why are you still so kind to me even though I have been nothing but an arse to you since the day we met?” Rolan asks her, his voice heavy.

This caused Sybil to laugh, a fully body genuine laugh making Rolan’s face scrunch up in confusion. 

“Hells Rolan I really thought I was being obvious this whole time, I’m in love with you have been since the day I saved you in the Shadow Cursed Lands.” Sybil says between giggles. 

Whatever he was expecting her to say it sure as hell wasn’t that,  “Are you quite well? I don’t think you’re aware of what you just said.” Rolan tries to reason with the cleric. 

“Oh for the love of the gods yes Rolan I am aware of what I said and I meant every word, now if it’s okay with you I’d like to kiss you now.”  Sybil groans with a large grin plastering her face.

“Well go on then.” Rolan replies, still in shock. 

Before he could think of anything else he felt soft lips enveloping his own. It shocked him just how soft Sybil’s lips are even after months of adventuring. Rolan sighs as he relaxes into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Sybil’s waist and pulling her closer. Kissing Sybil felt like coming home, a warm tingly feeling flooded the wizard’s entire body. The pair kiss for a few more moments before they are interrupted by several wolf whistles coming from behind them causing the pair to break apart. Sybil groans as she sees the shit eating grins on every single one of her companion’s faces. 

“I’m so sorry about them Rolan, excuse me while I knock some sense into them.” Sybil whispers before giving him one more peck on the lips.

Rolan stands there for a moment watching the taller tiefling make her way over to Astarion and pick him up by the back of his armor causing him to yelp. The wizard laughs as he watches the woman that he loves joke around with her companions. The woman he thought not even 24 hours ago that he had zero chances with. For the first time in over a month his heart was completely full.

[livingsurreal]

What is it with Baldurs Gate 3, that this game has so many characters I completly obsess about? I am usually a "one-true-blorbo" kinda girl. Fenris, Solas, Garrus, Jaal. Those are my Bioware blorbos.

I might try to smooch some one else but it never really works out.

Now for some reason, in BG3 my brain makes blorbos out of half the cast.

Astarion is my No 1. He is a very angry feral cat and I will love him till I die. He is perfect and sweet and angry and deserves sunlight and hugs and sweet gentle kisses and patience and a fucking hero in shining armor who stands beside him, without expecting shit in return. Who is there and is his shield and voice of reason. Some one who doesn't save him but gives him the space and chance, so he can save himself.

But damn, there is Raphael who takes way to much space in my brain lately. Give me that pillow princess and I will make him so much better he forgets what contracts even are. This poor sweet devil prince who never experienced love or someone who truly cares about him. All he knows is terms and conditions and life is so much more than transaction. Such a shame that he cant be romanced ingame. He is just the best devil and damn he looks soo soo yum. (WHERE IS MY RAPHAEL ROMANCE)

Karlach who is the bestest ever and I want her to ride me into the ground, and I want to hug her and hold her hand and never let her go and tell her is is the best thing since the invention of icecream and she deserves EVERYTHING!

Gale, sweet Gale who deserves unconditional true love, kindness and so many kisses. Someone who tells him "you are enough" and just loves him and blows him till he sees stars.

Wyll who deserves someone loyal, and sweet, who stands beside him and doesn't throw him away and tells him he is perfect the way he is. Also dances in the moonlight yayyy!

Dammon with his cute smile and sweet voice who needs to be smooched very gently. (WHERE IS MY DAMMON ROMANCE? Also he and Karlach would be perfect for each other if not romanced)

Rolan with his snotty attitude who needs to be smooched very hard. Also he needs to be fucked against a wall. (WHERE IS MY ROLAN ROMANCE)

Zevlor who deserves all the hugs and love. Also he needs someone who grabs his horns while riding him into the ground. (WHERE IS MY ZEVLOR ROMANCE)

Lae'zel and Shadowheart are made for each other. They are my sweet angry baes who really need to take a room and fuck it out of their system. Sorry, I would love each one of them but I just don't dare to come between them. But I will be their cheerleader and be the most embarrassing friend when they finally stop being silly. How sad is it that our companions dont find each other if we dont romance them. They deserve love, and Tav/Durge cant kiss them all!

Halsin who gives the sweetest bear hugs and seems somehow lost in Act 3, and should be kissed and hugged and be given lots of little ducky plushies.

Jaheira who is just the coolest and a damn good friend and gives great (bad) advice and who would share a blunt and a bottle of wine and I would listen to her stories all day, I love her so much. We all should have a Jaheira in our life.

Minsc who also tells the best stories and if you want really good (bad) advice you would ask Boo. He would be the best (worst) wingman, and the no 1 person you go to when you have a bad day. He just makes everything better. When in doubt just go and do some asskicking and everything is good.

How can ONE (1) game have so many wonderful characters, where I want to band almost every single one of them.

[alizha]

𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒃𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒔 | 𝑹𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝑻𝒂𝒗 | 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟐

Rating: M Word Count: 8.7k (whoops) Tags: female bard tav, tav is not described, angst, sibling relationships, sexual tension, kissing, neck kissing, references to canon-typical violence, mentions of tiefling racism, abuse (physical), minor character death (offscreen), blow job, outdoor sex, semi-public sex

Summary: Rolan has only ever had Cal and Lia. They insist he’s family, but he doesn’t even need that. He’s never needed or wanted anything more.

previous chapter | masterlist | cross posted to ao3

Rolan should have known how quickly gossip spread around the inn. It takes all of seemingly a half a day for the news to reach Cal and Lia.

“You dog!” Cal says.

His brother takes a running jump over to where Rolan is sitting at the bar and lands with his hands on his shoulders. It knocks the wind out of him a little. Rolan lets out a strained cough.

“I knew you two were acting weird,” Lia says, dropping one elbow onto the bar and jabbing an accusing finger in his face.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Rolan,” Cal says, wiping a pretend tear from his eye. “But you’ve finally met someone who managed to take the stick out of your ass.”

Rolan swats away Lia’s hand. “Oh, shove it, you two.”

“Let me have a moment, at least! I thought you were going to be alone forever,” she says, resting her chin cheekily in her palm.

“And I might still be,” Rolan tells her grimly.

Cal gasps dramatically. “What? Was it that bad?”

“What are you on about, you dope? Mystra save me, all I did was kiss her.”

“That’s not how I heard it. I heard from someone who heard it from Bex that you were practically on top of her.”

He and Lia stare at their brother, horrified.

“Gross, Cal! Urgh! I much prefer remaining blissfully unaware that Rolan even knows what sex is.”

She smacks Cal lightly, spurring on a bout of playful roughhousing between them. Quickly, though, they join forces and turn their poking toward Rolan. He buries his face in his arms on the table, desperately hoping his siblings don’t notice his blush.

“Rolan! Your ears are red!”

❖ ❖ ❖

He doesn’t see her again until after the shadow curse is broken, and even then, it’s only for a brief moment. The land was still enveloped in darkness, but everyone could feel a change had happened. As had become typical, no one bothered to explain to them or any of the other refugees what the hells was going on exactly.

Naturally, Rolan’s concern turned toward Tav. It seemed likely that whatever was going on, it’d been set into motion by her. Within the hour, the Harpers have mobilised and Jaheira is on her way to Moonrise.

“It’s the shadow curse,” Cal says. “Do you think they broke it?”

“We’re not taking any chances,” Lia says sharply. “We’re staying our arses right here until someone officially tells us it’s clear out there.”

Rolan agrees with a short hum. “It could still be dangerous.”

“But Rolan,” Cal gives him a worried look. “Your apprenticeship. We’ll barely make it as it is. If we wait any longer…”

He shakes his head firmly. Risking their lives again for his sake—Rolan won’t hear of it, apprenticeship be damned.

Just then, the doors to the inn crash open. Rolan feels like he’s been struck by lightning. Tav. She’s alive, although she looks just about spent. She hurries over to them with Halsin at her side, her other companions probably waiting somewhere just outside.

“Jaheira,” she pants, leaning slightly over with her hands on her knees.

“She took the Harpers to Moonrise,” Lia offers, jumping up. “You can catch them if you go now.”

“Right,” Halsin says with a grateful nod. “Tav.”

She holds up a hand, apparently needing another second to gather herself. When she does, she straightens with a groan.

“We’ll send someone as soon as the curse is gone,” she says, still breathless. “And once it is, you have to leave straight away, so be ready.”

Rolan’s stomach lurches. “What?”

“Your apprenticeship. You can’t be late. What would the great Lorroakan say?”

“You idiot,” he says, shaking his head. She’s about to dive headfirst into another battle at Moonrise looking like the undead, and she’s concerned about his apprenticeship.

“We’ll be ready,” Cal assures her for him.

Rolan almost wants to scold some sense into the both of them but stops when he sees Tav’s heavy smile.

“You’re gonna do great. I expect it’ll be a bit before we make it to the city ourselves.”

It feels like something is hanging in the air between them and simultaneously pressing against his throat. The spark of annoyance that runs through his head at that moment is laced with an equal amount of amusement. If she wants to ask him to meet her in Baldur’s Gate, she ought to just come right out and say it.

“Tav,” Halsin says again, taking an expectant step toward the exit.

“Coming,” she says. “Good luck, you three.”

She takes off at the same time as the druid. At the last second, Rolan shoves down the knot in his throat and shouts at her.

“Good luck, Tav! You’ll know where to find me!”

He’s not sure, but he thinks he sees the skin of her temples flush a little pink.

❖ ❖ ❖

Rolan is ready for a lot of things when he finally reaches Baldur’s Gate. Curses being thrown at him, dirty looks, uncomfortable stares from children.

Mutters of ‘foulblood’ don’t hurt him. They never have.

What he wasn’t expecting was having to leave Cal and Lia in Rivington. His letter declaring his apprenticeship is a little crumpled and stained from everything it had to endure in the corner of his pack while they were on the road. Still, it’s enough to get him past the guard at Wyrm’s Crossing. Not so for his siblings.

After everything they’ve been through. After getting right back on the road after the shadow curse broke and splitting off from the other refugees headed for Moonrise. Rolan whirls on the head guard, ready to argue, but Cal hurriedly motions for him to drop the issue.

“It’s okay, Rolan! We’ll be fine!”

“I’ll sort this out with Lorroakan,” he promises them, fists clenched at his sides.

“Go!” Lia says, making a shooing gesture. “I’ll take care of Cal!”

He takes another moment to just look at them fondly before taking off. The fortress looms high above him as he crosses the grand bridge to the city proper. He’ll make sure they’re together again soon, no matter what it takes.

❖ ❖ ❖

Ever since he was a young child, Rolan’s always been a good student. He was self-motivated, hard-working, prone to reading everything he could get his hands on. Everything a wizard’s apprentice should be, really. All he has to do is prove it to Lorroakan.

He’s admired the man from afar for years. The distance from every fantastical thing that happened to him on the road from Elturel overhauls his focus. His only goal is to become a great mage and protect his family. It always has been.

His days are spent tending to the shop—to familiarise himself with the magical items, his master tells him. And his nights are spent maintaining the tower. There’s plenty to do. Mountains and mountains of scrolls and tomes and potions that seem to have been piling up with very little semblance of organisation.

It’s all rather tedious work, but Lorroakan always seems to have his reasons for the tasks he sets him on. Eventually, he’ll start on proper lessons and research and the like. Rolan figures everything has a purpose. He’s managed to get Cal and Lia into a hostel somewhere in the city, and that seems good enough for now. He doesn't want to overreach.

The latest of his trials is cataloguing the alchemy ingredients in the tower’s lab. Even though he doesn’t want to seem greedy, he misses his family. His island is fractured, and he feels afloat—at sea without Cal and Lia.

So, Rolan forces himself to work through his exhaustion and manages to finish the cataloguing ahead of schedule. Feeling triumphant, he ascends the tower in search of Lorroakan, hoping his master will be amenable to discussing the subject of finally bringing his family to the tower.

The master of Ramazith’s Tower liked to spend most of his time on the top floor. Purportedly, he was always occupied with conducting his research, though today, he appears to be entertaining a guest. A waifish elf woman in a dress of deep sapphire that dips past her sternum.

He’s always found this room beautiful. The sunlight streaming in through the high windows illumines the specks of dust swirling around specks of blue light scattered below the vaulted ceiling. It reminds him of the Emerald Grove, in a way.

“Master Lorroakan,” he greets the mage with a respectful bow.

Immediately, the displeasure stamped on the mage’s face makes Rolan uneasy. Lorroakan, lounging on a throne of tomes, whispers something to his visitor seated at his feet. She nods and scurries off, and Rolan doesn’t want to make assumptions, but he supposes a man who never leaves his tower must have certain services transported in.

“What is it, boy? You’re supposed to be working on the elixirs. I won’t tolerate laziness in a student.”

“No, of course,” Rolan says quickly as he gets up and stalks toward him. “It was alchemy ingredients, actually, and I’ve just finished with that—,”

Lorroakan cuts him off with a string of tuts, shaking one finger at him. “That’s not possible. If you were doing the work right, you would still be occupied.”

A pit of worry opens its maw in Rolan’s stomach. He hadn’t even considered that his haste might dissatisfy a man as thorough as Lorroakan. A shameful oversight on his part.

“I don’t want to find out that you made a bunch of idiotic mistakes just to finish the work faster.”

“Yes, Master Lorroakan. I will double check my work. But while I’m here, I was wondering if we could discuss getting my brother and sister moved into the tower—,”

Thwack.

Rolan reels, then stands frozen. His vision, blurred for a second, refocuses on the expression of pure venom on his master’s face. There’s a stinging pain right above his cheekbone, pulsating with heat. He reaches up shakily but is too afraid to touch it.

“Back talk,” Lorroakan spits. “I will not have it. You will not ‘double check’ your work, tiefling, you will do it over. From the beginning.”

He can’t speak or move. Rolan stays rooted to the spot until long after his master has swept out of the room.

Whatever it takes.

The quizzing starts that night. Lorroakan throws him question after question, the likes of which entirely flabbergast him. Rolan pores over his repository of autodidactic knowledge, amassed over years of self-study, but he can never seem to find the right answers. And for each answer his master deems deficient, he raises his hand to him again.

He lies in his tiny cot afterward, unable to sleep. Thinking about Cal and Lia makes his chest ache more, and his thoughts constantly wander to Tav. Where she might be right now, what she might be doing.

He thinks about his unfounded suspicion of her back when they first met at the grove. He imagined she was perhaps a spy, or that she could be working for the goblins’ leaders, or even that she was trying to get between him and his family.

The truth, of course, is that the only one getting between Rolan and his siblings is himself. If he’d been strong enough back in the shadow-cursed lands, he could have prevented the cultists from taking them. If he was strong enough to prove himself to Lorroakan now, he would have them here at his side. He needs to toughen up if he’s ever going to become a great wizard. And he needs to do it before Tav inevitably shows up in Baldur’s Gate.

She wouldn’t understand. Wouldn’t understand the lengths he’d go to, or that he’s admired Lorroakan for years, or that even though he isn’t an adventurer like her, beneath the velvet and the silver plate, Rolan knows something of survival.She’d take one look at him and see a damsel in need of rescue again.

Cal and Lia might not be in Ramazith’s Tower, but they’re in the city, sheltered and fed, and he’d done that. A long held oath to the woman he took far too long to rightly consider his mother. Lia always liked to think of herself as the mother hen. She’d wiped their noses and chased off bullies for them countless times, true enough. But it was Rolan who made that promise at the end.

❖ ❖ ❖

The rumours are true. The group of adventurers who had caused a stir at Archduke Gortash’s ceremony was Tav’s. It’s only natural that as the tremors and street killings plaguing the city go on the rise that she would soon follow.

Rolan doesn’t see them enter the shop until they’re at the counter. He’s not given enough thought to what he would say to her. The moment he realises the woman standing before him is Tav, all his breath seems to vacate his body.

“Tav.”

She looks to be in a much better state than she’d been in last time he saw her. Clean, not as tired, even her clothes and armour have improved. An odd feeling washes over him. A feeling like the Tav he knew on the road to the city was different from the one here now.

“Rolan.” Her brow is furrowed. “What happened to your face?”

His dismissive response comes quick and rehearsed. He’s had to repeat it a number of times to Tolna and a handful of shop regulars.

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

The residual pain from the cuts on his cheek and across the bridge of his nose are like background noise to him now. He barely gives them a second thought. But Tav has an uncanny way of seeing right through him.

She’s done so ever since the grove. One look at him was all she needed back then to know he was to be pitied. A miserable excuse of a man who didn’t even have the conviction to get his family to Baldur’s Gate alone or stay and fight of his own accord.

“But never mind that. What are you doing here?” he says in the cheeriest tone he can manage without it sounding entirely out of place coming from him.

Her frown deepens, and Rolan holds himself steady. After everything he and his siblings have been through, after they held him up through the years when he surely would have fallen without them, after they sacrificed their own comfort to get him to his apprenticeship on time—

“I have business with Lorroakan,” Tav says. Her words are clipped. He wonders if she knows he’s lying and is angry with him. It doesn’t matter.

“What is it regarding?” he asks, readopting an air of professionalism.

“The Nightsong.”

“Ah, you too? Seems all I deal with these days are adventurers inquiring about the Nightsong,” Rolan sighs. “All the information you need is on those pamphlets. You’re welcome to them, of course.”

He points to the neat stack he spent much of his precious time in respite folding, sitting on the desk near the entrance to the shop. Tav doesn’t bother following the line of his finger. Instead, she bites at the inside of her lip, hesitating.

“No, I mean I have the Nightsong. She’s in our room at the Elfsong right now,” she says.

An awed scoff escapes his mouth. If he had to bank on a group of adventurers to actually find the thing, it’d be done, he supposes. But her choice of words sticks in his head peculiarly.

“You must be mistaken. The Nightsong is an ancient relic.”

Her lips press together into a thin line. At first, he thinks she’s going to argue with him, but apparently she decides against it. After a moment, Rolan appends his reply.

“But if you have relevant information, I’m sure Master Lorroakan will want to see you. Head upstairs. You’ll find the way to his tower up there.”

Tav nods once and goes to take a step toward the stairs before pausing and turning to him again. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

He’d expect to find her persistent concern irritating, but it somehow worms its way into his heart and spreads warmth through his chest. Rolan crushes the feeling into a ball and banishes it.

“I’m fine.”

She nods again, stiffly, and leaves after that. Rolan watches her disappear up the staircase with her companions and, confoundingly, almost wishes she had planted her hands on her hips and demanded he come clean. But he recognises the idiocy of that—he’d been the one who insisted it was of no concern to her.

Maybe, he just figured that with her dogged penchant for inserting herself into other people’s matters, she would find a way to force the truth out of him. That would have been unfair, though. In the handful of times she’s intervened in his life since he’s known her, she hasn’t forced him to do anything he didn’t want to do.

He waits, tending to the counter with seemingly every muscle tensed and eyes darting over to the stairs far too often. When he finally glimpses movement there, Rolan turns and pretends to be busy. Coward, he admonishes himself as he nonsensically moves scrolls from one stack to another. He’ll just have to rearrange them later.

“Rolan,” Tav calls. He should have known that wasn’t going to work.

“Yes?” he says, straightening and facing her.

She’s leaning over the counter on her forearms and gestures with one hand for him to come closer. Rolan eyes her friends as he approaches—Karlach, Gale, and Astarion are bunched together near the door and speaking in hushed tones to each other.

“Is something going on?” he asks.

“Do you get any time off?”

He blinks at her. Suddenly, his heartbeat is in his throat. Is she going to ask him to come out with her somewhere? Alone?

“You should try to stay out of the tower tonight, if you can,” Tav continues. “And make sure Cal and Lia are with you.”

“Cal and Lia—,” he chokes off his words at the end. She raises a questioning eyebrow at him, but he clears his throat and changes trajectory. “Why are you saying this?”

“Just trust me. I have a feeling it won’t be good to get yourself in the crossfire of what’s coming.”

The pained expression on her face escalates his concern. Rolan grips the edge of the counter. “What’s coming, Tav?”

“Please, Rolan.”

She reaches for his hand, and the scratch of her calluses on his skin is just as electrifying as the first time. The tenderness she uses when she gives his fingers a light squeeze muddles his desire to demand a straight answer.

He sets his jaw and doesn’t respond. Tav understands his silence as the dissent it is and withdraws her hand. And then, in a blink, she’s gone again.

❖ ❖ ❖

As nightmarish as the shadow-cursed lands were, it all felt like a dream looking back now. Especially in those last few days when Rolan deluded himself into thinking Tav could ever be anything more than a fleeting whim. The craving of an appetite he never thought he harboured and never expected to awaken.

Ships passing in the night.

What did he think she would have done if he’d told her the whole of his situation? Would she have marched right back up to the top of Ramazith’s Tower? Barged in on Lorroakan and sent him off the edge of the wrap-around balcony herself?

Maybe, she would watch him get smaller and smaller and disappear through the misty clouds surrounding the tower before turning around and striding back inside, backlit by the sun. Order her companions to leave. Wait until they were gone to scream at him. Call him a prat of the highest degree for getting himself into this mess. And then, he would silence her with a bruising kiss.

Wait. Where is his mind taking him? Lorroakan is in the foulest mood he’s ever seen him in, and Rolan reminds himself to stay focused if he doesn’t want to endure a particularly brutal lesson later. And that aside, he’s not sure if he could face Tav again if he continues down this line of thought.

She’d been trying to warn him of something earlier that day in the shop, but he wishes she could have just been frank with him. He thinks that perhaps if Cal and Lia really were staying in the tower with him the way Tav assumed, he might have tried harder to listen to her. But as it is, some sinister combination of shame and fear prevents him from shirking his duties even for one evening.

The woman appears seemingly out of nowhere. There’s no characteristic whoosh of the portal to Sorcerous Sundries, and the enchantments on the doors haven’t been disturbed. Just a strong rustle of feathers, and then she’s there, standing in front of Lorroakan when Rolan looks up.

“What have we here? A magician in a tower, hiding away from the frightening world.”

Her armour is brilliant silver with accents of pale gold, and in the light of the sun low in the sky, her hair and skin almost seem to meld with the hues of it. Rolan glances at his master, but Lorroakan is calm, face twisted in signature arrogance. The portal whirs softly. Tav steps out a moment later, along with the same friends that had accompanied her before.

Her eyes immediately snap to his. She’s chagrined he’s there, but she’s not surprised. The presence of Tav and her party do nothing to shake his master’s confident mask.

“What are you so scared of, magus? Not the Nightsong, surely. Why, she is nothing but a relic to be purchased and pursued.”

Rolan throat feels like it’s sinking into his belly as Tav’s words echo in his head. “My gods. The Nightsong is a person,” he breathes. “Master Lorroakan—,”

The mage cuts him off with a drawl. “There you are, my dear. At last.”

He catches himself recoiling from nothing more than a simple slight. What is the matter with him? Hatred threads sharply between his ribs, constricting his chest. Hatred directed at Lorroakan, yes, but also himself.

“You will address me with due deference,” the woman—the Nightsong—intones. “I am Dame Aylin. And you are a whelp without honour, without pride with nothing but a tower full of trinkets.”

“My apologies, Dame Aylin.” Lorroakan’s affability is transparently condescending. “I meant no disrespect. I asked our mutual friend here to make an introduction that I might get to meet the famed daughter of Selûne.”

The deliberate look and sly smile on his face when he turns to Tav makes Rolan’s stomach roil. Lorroakan holds out a hand in a welcoming gesture.

“Perhaps, my friend, you could help bridge the gap?”

“I came here to watch Aylin rip you to shreds,” Tav says without missing a beat.

Her words strike Rolan through like an arrow. This was why she had been reluctant to divulge the details of her plans. He’d spent so long singing Lorroakan’s praises. He should have realised she was uncertain of how this would affect him, having to choose between her and his idol.

What she didn’t know was that his resolve has already been steadily slipping. It was unthinkable that the ‘relic’ Lorroakan had been searching for all this time was a real, living person. By the time he outlines his plans to cage her for her immortality, Rolan’s at his breaking point.

“You know, a man named Ketheric Thorm already tried stealing Aylin’s immortality,” Tav says. “He’s dead now.”

She flickers her gaze briefly to Rolan. A signal. She wants him to back off, to run before things get ugly. There’s no chance he’s going to flee. Lorroakan is his problem to deal with as much as he is hers.

“Pity. You could have reaped the rewards of my good favour,” Lorroakan tuts. His face quickly contorts in scorn as he turns to Rolan. “Boy! At the ready. Once I’ve taken control of the aasimar, she must go directly into the caging runes.”

“No, Master Lorroakan,” he says, making a conscious effort to meet his withering gaze. “I would never have assisted you if I knew you planned such horrors.”

“Watch your tongue, you child! I could make it such that no wizard in the realm will touch you!”

Lorroakan’s face has turned an even more impressive shade of red than him. Rolan glares down his nose at this man who suddenly seemed very small and wretched indeed.

“If they’re all like you, I think that sounds like an excellent bargain.”

❖ ❖ ❖

In the end, the bastard got what he deserved. Neither Rolan nor Tav get the pleasure of dealing the killing blow. That honour goes to Dame Aylin with a blow that rattles the bookshelves, and Rolan supposes that’s poetic enough.

The moment Lorroakan’s body hits the ground, he staggers back and braces the railing. Combat magic is exhausting, he feels drained to his core. How does Tav do this multiple times in one day?

“Are you alright?” she asks him. That question again.

“Better now,” he says. And it’s the truth, despite the tremor in his legs and the smell of singed cloth coming off his robes.

He lets her help him to the ground and sits leaning against the cold metal. There’s a new scar on her neck right above the high collar of her leather armour that he hasn’t noticed before. It wasn’t there the last time he was close enough to her to notice such things. Probably from an errant arrow that happened to just miss her.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” Tav says, moving aside the burnt fabric of his sleeve. “Astarion said he’s seen enough beatings to know someone was knocking you around.”

Rolan hisses involuntarily as some of the tatters brush against his angry burn, and Tav’s fingers jump a little, startled. She slows her movements, careful not to make the same mistake again.

“It was him,” he says bitterly, glaring at his former master’s corpse cooling on the red carpet.

“Then, I only wish we could kill him again,” she says.

She holds her hand over his wound and whistles a soft tune. The blue light of her healing magic evokes the scent of pepper and florals and instantly soothes his skin. He’s amazed by her.

“Combat magic and healing,” Rolan says. “Is there no end to your flaunting?”

Tav scoffs, but she can’t hide her amusement. “Me? What about you?”

“I didn’t do anything special,” he says as she draws back to let him readjust his sleeve. The velvet is ruined, but maybe he can find something better to replace it now.

“Rolan,” she says, frowning. “You were incredible. I’ve never seen a Magic Missile with such concentrated force.”

She’s flattering him, indulging him again, like at the celebration before they left the grove. It isn’t necessary.

“It’s rudimentary. Common spells any novice wizard would know.”

“That’s not—,” she shakes her head staunchly. “You’re not formally trained, are you?”

“No. I had to rely on myself mainly. But what does that have to do with this?”

Tav’s gaze slides over to Gale’s for a moment. The others have gathered themselves and appear ready to take off to wherever their next heroic appointment is taking place. Gale makes a small gesture with his head to indicate that they should get moving.

“Nevermind. Will you be alright here on your own?”

“The tower has considerable defences. And I won’t be alone. I’ll move Cal and Lia in immediately. They’re going to love it,” he says.

She grins. “All hail Rolan, master of Ramazith’s Tower.”

He likes the sound of that better than he should admit.

❖ ❖ ❖

The books disappear from the tower’s vaults that night. It’s too much of a coincidence for it to not have been Tav’s doing. Lorroakan might have been too incompetent to upkeep his vast inventory of tomes, but there were measures put in place in case of thieves.

Rolan isn’t in a hurry to track down the books and find out why Tav has taken them. He’s been too busy with securing his ownership of the tower and moving his family in to bother. And besides, it’s likely she has her reasons.

Getting away from the tower is difficult, to say the least. There’s a trove of knowledge in the vaults, clearly amassed by Lorroakan, that’s never been touched. Truly a waste, in Rolan’s eyes, to leave so much valuable magic gathering dust.

He sets himself to work, with his siblings’ help, learning everything he can about Ramazith’s Tower. Perhaps, he can’t fight at Tav’s side, but there’s still plenty for him to offer as the tower’s new master. They start in earnest after breakfast every morning, enjoying the serene quiet of the sun-drenched top floor—after an extensive cleaning, of course. Rolan feels like he’s in his element again.

“Wonder when Tav’ll drop by,” Lia says, carrying a new stack of books to the desk and flanked by a couple piles of more books hovering at her sides.

He’d tell her she doesn’t need to bother with the heavy lifting at all if he thought she would actually listen to him. She plops her cargo off with a grunt as the magicked stacks line themselves up neatly on the ground, then dusts off her palms.

“She said she’d come visit, didn’t she, Rolan?” Cal says from the armchair he’s been reclining on. The directory he was meant to be working on is lying open on the floor beside him, and he’s toying absently with his quill instead.

“Sometimes, I wonder why you insist on helping if you’re just going to loaf around instead,” Rolan says pointedly.

Cal pretends to scramble to straighten up and starts miming furiously writing on his hand. This draws a beleaguered sigh from Rolan.

“She… implied that she’d come back as soon as she could get away,” he admits.

“That could mean anything,” Lia says, dropping into a chair across from them. “That could mean after the bloody Absolute’s been dealt with.”

Rolan grunts. He’s come to pretty much the same conclusion already. And he doesn’t want to put too much stock into an unspoken promise, anyway.

“Yeah, she’s probably just busy with Absolute stuff,” Cal agrees, tapping his chin thoughtfully with the quill. “I’m sure she’s not avoiding you or anything, Rolan.”

“Grand,” Rolan says impassively, sending his brother a scathing look. “Not that I asked.”

Cal leans forward in his armchair abruptly, lifting one finger as if he just came up with the cleverest idea. “Why don’t you just go visit her? You know where she’s staying.”

“I don’t remember either of you being this enthusiastic about your respective romantic prospects,” Rolan mutters, indignant.

“Oh, come on, Rolan,” Lia says. “You know this is different. It’s like you don’t even want to see her.”

His temples are starting to pulse. Rolan puts down his own quill a little too roughly. “Different how?”

Lia blinks at him. “You’ve been through danger together, triumphed together!” She raises a fist theatrically. “Surely, you’ve come out the other end closer than ever.”

Rolan digs the heel of his palm into his eye and groans. “This isn’t some romance novel, Lia.”

He’s always believed his aversion to romance made him the most sensible of his siblings. Just because he and Tav defeated Lorroakan together doesn’t guarantee them a happily ever after.

“I have you two to think about, and now, an entire wizard’s tower and all the power and magic it has to offer,” he says. “And I haven’t even scratched the surface!”

Cal and Lia are staring at him. After a moment, they share a silent glance, and Lia gets off her chair to approach the desk. Rolan raises a suspicious eyebrow at her right before she gives him a hard flick to the back of his hand. He yelps, rubbing the stinging patch of skin.

“What the hells was that for?” he demands.

“Stop being a baby,” Lia snaps.

“You can’t use us as an excuse anymore,” Cal says, folding his arms across his chest. “Stop trying to shoulder everything yourself, Rolan. Ask us for help once in a while.”

Rolan knows he’s gaping, but he can’t seem to pull himself together. His brother’s words feel like a bucket of cold water poured over his head.

“Just because you say that doesn’t mean I’ll suddenly feel alright with it,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady.

Lia chuckles. “You stubborn dolt. We know.”

❖ ❖ ❖

Tav visits Sorcerous Sundries on a couple different occasions without heading up the stairs to take the portal up to the tower. Rolan knows because she interacts with his projection at the front counter. She sells off her junk, just like she used to back at the Emerald Grove, purchases elixirs and the odd scroll, then goes about her business. It’s all rather mundane.

Rolan wonders what right he has to intrude on her time when she has the fate of the Gate to worry about. He considers manning the shop himself on numerous occasions just for the chance that he might run into her on one of her shopping trips. But surely, he would come out disappointed when, inevitably, she would cut their meeting short to run off and play hero.

He reads the Gazette. Religiously. Trying to glean from the vague words what kinds of things Tav and her ragtag group might be up to. They’re hardly ever mentioned at all, and when they are, it’s not always in the best light.

Several nights after the talk he had with Cal and Lia, Rolan finally decides to make his way to the Elfsong. He invites them along, of course. Cal looks like his head is going to implode when Lia insists they stay and watch the tower for him while he’s gone.

His new robes aren’t far removed from the style of his old ones—Rolan’s tastes don’t skew quite as opulent as his former master’s. They do, however, make him feel a little out of place when he steps foot in the tavern. But no one in the boisterous crowd really pays him any mind. Until Karlach notices him.

The statuesque tiefling waves at him enthusiastically from across a few tables before urgently nudging Tav with her shoulder. Tav glances up to look at whatever Karlach is pointing at, and her eyes light up when they land on Rolan. His stomach does a somersault.

She mouths his name. Or she yells it, and he can’t hear over the crowd of other patrons. Regardless, she’s gesturing for him to come over, so he obliges, and she gets up to meet him halfway.

“It’s a bit loud in here,” Tav says close to his ear. “Would you come up to the roof with me?”

Rolan’s gaze snags on Karlach and the others sneaking interested peeks at them from their table, and he decides the roof is an excellent idea.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Alfira likes to practise up here during the day,” Tav tells him as she waits for him to climb the last few rungs of the ladder. “But it’s a nice place for quiet at night.”

Rolan follows her to the railing at the front of the tavern facing down onto the main street. She leans forward on her elbows against the rail and gazes at the passersby below.

“I spoke to Gale, by the way. He says it’s very likely because you were self-taught that your spells have slight variations. It’s fascinating.”

There she goes again, speaking at him like he was only a wall. Rolan steps into line with her but remains stick-straight.

“Oh, how are Cal and Lia? Is everything well with you all? And the shop?”

“Cal and Lia—,” he tries to start, but his throat closes off a little. “Tav, I came here for a reason. I need to speak to you.”

She twists and rests her cheek in her hand. “We are speaking.”

“No, you are. Do you ever let anyone else get a word in edgewise?” he snaps.

The corners of her lips curl up impishly, sending a pang of awareness through him. She deliberately set him up for a jab. Damn bard.

“Y-you—you,” Rolan pauses his sputtering and tries to take proper control of his tongue. “You are an exasperating woman.”

“You can do better than that,” she says with a pout. “What about gorgeous? Incredible?”

“Incredibly meddlesome,” he supplies.

She hums in contentment, eyes fluttering closed. “Keep going.”

The sound of her voice makes his stomach clench tight. Unlike him, she’s wearing her casual clothes, and the way she cranes her neck exposes the arrow scar in full view. Without fully thinking it through, Rolan reaches out to trace the line of scar tissue with his thumb. Tav shudders beneath his touch, eyes flying open.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says. “It’s maddening. I can hardly focus on Ramazith’s Tower because I’m always wondering where you are. If you’re alright.”

His voice breaks a little on the last sentence, and it’s humiliating. He can barely look at her.

“I was trying to give you some space,” Tav says softly. “You deserve time with your family.’

“How noble of you,” he says bitterly.

“I don’t have a family, Rolan. You’re so lucky, and so are Cal and Lia. I could tell from the beginning you were the most caring, devoted brother anyone could ask for.”

She brushes her cool fingers against the knuckles of the hand, making the stifling warmth blooming inside him even more pronounced.

“You stayed in the grove for them. You would have done anything for them,” she says almost reverently.

“That sounds like you. Your friends down there, they’re your family. You’re constantly putting yourself in harm’s way for them. I saw the way you threw yourself in front of Gale when we were fighting Lorroakan. You’re a bard, for gods’ sake. Let someone else do the protecting.”

“Who? You?” Tav grins. “I know you cast Mage Armour on me.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t so reckless. Honestly, is that how you always fight?”

Her brow lifts sceptically as she steps a little closer to him. “Do you really want to know?”

Rolan swallows thickly. He’s almost certain he does not, but her proximity is making it difficult for him to vocalise his response. Tav’s hand on his shifts, sliding up the length of his arm to wrap around the ribcage threatening to burst in his torso. The moment she presses herself against him, he forgets every argument he had for resisting.

“You deserve to be taken care of, too,” she whispers against his jaw. Humid breath ghosts against his skin like a caress, carrying echoed vibrations of arousal down to his core. “Let me take care of you.”

The protestations in his mouth crumble. All he can do is nod, and perhaps it’s a little too quickly and a little too needy, but Tav immediately gives him what he wants. Her free hand cups his cheek, dragging his lips to hers, and it’s everything Rolan wishes their first kiss had been. Slow, at first, working its way up to insistent, until his head is swimming like he’s been stuck to the bar at Last Light Inn for too long again.

Through the haze, he’s somewhat aware that there’s longing in the way she slides her tongue against his, and it seems so nonsensical to think that someone like her would want him half as much as he wants her. Tav, who draws people to her like a planet with her own gravitational pull. He should be wary of the ego boost that notion gives him.

Just as Rolan feels the dizziness start to set in from a lack of air, Tav drags her lips from his mouth up the line of his jaw. The warbling sound he releases when her hand glides down his chest and past his abdomen is embarrassing. He leans into her, finally finding control over his own limbs to adjust the hand on her neck around to her nape.

She’s agonisingly soft. He can’t remember the last time a girl even deigned to stand this close to him. And they had been girls, because he must have been young and fumbling and undoubtedly a disappointment.

Rolan doesn’t want to be a disappointment to Tav, but when she closes her hand around his clothed groin, he’s entirely too much at her mercy to do anything about it. His hips jerk forward entirely of their own accord, seeking more of the delicious friction of her palm. Every sensation in his body suddenly narrows to his swelling cock. He’s desperate to know how her hand, her lips, would feel around him without the obstacle of fabric.

Tav pulls her face from his neck just far enough to meet his gaze, and although he’s pretty sure she can’t hear the jumbled array of filthy thoughts running through his head, her eyes burn into his. Licking her swollen lips, she walks him back against the railing.

“Is this alright?” she asks.

It’s so far from alright that she looks so in control of herself while he’s a mess slumped against the rooftop railing of the Elfsong Tavern. The only worse thing Rolan can think of is stopping her now.

“Yes,” he gasps, fighting the urge to rut into her hand again.

His breaths tremble as she dips down, folding onto her knees. Gods, she can’t really be doing what he’d just been imagining. The anticipation as Tav pushes aside his robes and loosens the ties of his breeches threatens to push him over the edge of release right then and there. Rolan’s hand shoots out to grasp her by the shoulder.

“Is it too much?” She looks up at him, and the sight of her with her chin resting over the bulge between his legs is almost too much to handle.

“I just—I’ve never done this before,” Rolan huffs. “Or, no one’s ever done this for me, I suppose.”

Her eyes drip with such gentle adoration that his heart aches. “I can stop if you want,” she says, tracing a line up his thigh with the back of one finger. “But I don’t think you’ll want me to.”

Rolan doesn’t realise he’s holding his breath as she eases the hem of his breeches down to release the hard length of his cock. He doesn’t have any misgivings about this part of his anatomy, and the mildly pleased expression on Tav’s face confirms the merit of his confidence. Without wasting any more time, she wraps her fingers around the base, and Rolan finally inhales sharply.

Tymora’s luck. She’s going to make him convert if she keeps going.

“You can hold my hair back if you want a better view,” she says, and she doesn’t wink, but her tone of voice invokes one.

With a groan, Rolan releases the white-knuckle grip he has on the railing and sweeps her hair up off her neck.

“That’s it,” she murmurs approvingly. “That’s perfect, Rolan.”

Finally, finally, she leans forward and takes him into her mouth, tongue swiping a sinful line from the underside of the ridge surrounding the head up to the slit at the tip. Rolan instinctively fists the hand he has tangled in her hair, head falling back. The wet heat of her mouth is more alluring and spectacular than he could have ever expected.

Tav opens her jaw wider and moves further down his length, flattening her tongue against him. Rolan peeks down at her, looking for some indication that she might be enjoying herself as much as he is, and catches her eye—she’s watching him attentively, pupils lust-blown and hungry.

Even though he can feel the oversensitive tip of his cock butting up lightly against the sloping walls at the back of her mouth, he’s still only halfway in. She holds his gaze and swallows. Rolan lurches, the feeling of her throat constricting setting off flashes of white behind his eyes.

She’s going to kill him.

Strangled refrains of her name tumble from his lips. She starts moving again, carefully bobbing back and forth as her hands brace the backs of his thighs. It takes every last bit of Rolan’s self-restraint to keep himself from bucking into her with abandon. Instead, as mindfully as he can manage, he rocks ever so slightly in time with her pace, slowly rolling his cock deeper into her warmth.

“You’re—ah—you’re gorgeous. Incredible,” he murmurs, surprising himself with his own ability to recall any portion of their earlier conversation at all.

Tav moans around him, the noise inflating his chest with pride. As if in reward, she hollows her cheeks and sucks hard before swallowing again. Rolan can’t stop the jolt his hips give in response. He feels himself hit the back of her throat and startles when she gags.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, pulling back until he slides out from between her lips with a pop.

“It’s fine,” she says breathlessly, wiping moisture from the corner of her mouth. “Do you want to keep going?”

He’s already regretting the loss of her warmth, but Rolan lets her hair fall from his hand and takes her chin between his fingers.

“Let me return the favour, Tav,” he says. “Please.”

He needs to. His cock strains at the thought of his nose pressed against her clit as he plunges his tongue inside her.

“Don’t you ever just take, Rolan?” she says, turning her head to press a kiss to his palm.

If anyone had asked him back at the grove, he’d have staunchly asserted that he would never want anything from Tav except for her to leave him alone. That attitude holds tight to him, entwined around him like vines, because letting go of deep-rooted habits is an uphill battle.

“Please, tell me what you want,” he says as she leverages his arm to push herself up to her feet.

With what he could only describe as a wicked grin, Tav reassumes the spot she began in, leaning back this time with her elbows against the railing. “I want you to do that thing you did back at Last Light.”

Rolan’s heart is beating high in his throat as he closes in on her. Eagerly, she tilts her head to bare her neck to him, and his eyes land on that scar again just before he latches his lips to it. Tav reacts immediately with a soft hiss and throws one arm over his shoulder.

He’s hyperaware that his cock is still exposed. It aches, weeping for release, and he presses it almost unconsciously against her stomach. Despite her obvious attempts at keeping quiet, Tav releases a string of stifled moans as he opens his mouth against her skin and tests the feel of her scar against his tongue.

Her hand moves against his thigh, toying with something between their bodies. It’s only when she starts shoving that he realises she’d been working on the fasteners of her breeches. Rolan feels his insides twist up the moment his cock brushes against soft skin.

“I want to feel you,” she tells him, taking his length in her hand. “Do you want that too?”

Carefully, he scrapes his teeth against her skin and preens at the sigh it pulls from her lips. “Gods, yes.”

She doesn’t need him to repeat himself. His words are barely out of his mouth before she promptly hikes one leg up to his hip and presses the tip of him to where he needs to be. Rolan similarly doesn’t wish to deny her any longer. He leans forward and rocks into her with short thrusts.

Tav lets her lips fall open as she welcomes him, gripping tight to his arm until he’s fully seated and—rapture. Rolan tips toward and rests his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath. Before he can compose himself, she gives an experimental roll of her hips, and he sees stars. A familiar throbbing at the base of his spine that had been just out of reach draws his attention. And his panic.

“Stop, Tav, don’t—,”

She seems to understand and stills. “I want to watch you come undone,” she says, voice low.

Rolan glares into her eyes. It’s not fair that she’s just asking for things that are actually for his benefit. Too bad he doesn’t have the determination left to quibble about the semantics.

He tries to temper the firmness of his grip on her thigh as he starts to move in earnest with little regard for his impending release. She seems to respond to his confidence, contracting around with each thrust until she can’t keep up with his erratic rhythm anymore. At the last second, when he feels himself falling into the clutches of his orgasm, Rolan pitches forward to capture her lips with his and slam himself into her as deep as he can go.

Their muffled moans mingle together as he shudders against her, spilling his release into her. Tav moulds her mouth to his, cradling his shoulder blades as he comes down from his high. Once his panting slows just enough, she moves her lips, kissing him languorously and fondly.

“Are you alright, Rolan?”

That infernal question. He props himself up with his hands on either side of her. “Don’t I look alright? I should be the one asking you that considering…”

“Next time,” she says with a laugh. “Maybe, we could try indoors. Don’t want to make this a habit.”

So, she was expecting a next time. Rolan’s chest lifts a little from the elation. Love. What a pretty word for such a terrifying emotion.

❖ ❖ ❖

Rolan answers the call to High Hall the moment it comes. He’s been waiting for this, but he’s far from ready for it.

There are faces there he doesn’t recognise, and others that it feels like he hasn’t seen in ages. Zevlor, Dammon, even one of the refugee children whose name he doesn’t remember. Rolan can’t help feeling a little forlorn that he did not speak to them much on the road, but they each still greet him warmly when he shows up.

Tav and her friends are the last to arrive. They look like they’ve already been in the thick of it when the real battle’s hardly begun. Rolan has little to do with the strategizing—his only real job is to activate the cannons on Ramazith’s Tower when the signal is given. He hangs back as the others ready for the fight ahead.

It’s not long before Tav comes to find him. She pulls him wordlessly outside. The sky is thick with an oppressive cover of cloud. Sections of the city are on fire, chaos raining from above, but standing above it all here, with Tav gazing solemnly at it all, instils Rolan with a sorrowful sense of peace.

“When you need me out there,” he tells her, taking her hand in his, “you’ll have me.”

She looks into his eyes. Even in the dull orange light, Tav is radiant. “Thank you, Rolan.”

Her free hand comes to rest at his cheek as she lifts up for a kiss. His heart is on the verge of shattering from the anguish of her lips.

“Come back to me, Tav,” he murmurs against her mouth. “Come back to me. Please.”

“I will,” she says. “I’ll know where to find you.”

Rolan chuckles weakly and takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

There’s awe in her eyes as she pulls back to gaze at him. Full of renewed hope, she smiles. “I love you, too.”

[reverieblondie]

Late Night Dip

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Fingering, Tail play, Teasing, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (Please wrap before you tap), G-whiz Position.

Summary: Cal and Lia are worried about their brother, he's just so stressed and needs a break! Good thing you have an idea that could help...

A/N: Rolan is hot, and I'm not going to apologize. I want to give him everything. More fics of my other favorite fictional men coming soon!

Word Count: 4,774

“Please, you have to get him out of that tower! You're the only one who he will listen to!” 

You almost spit out your drink from Cal’s comment and look at him bewildered, “Uh, You must be confused you're talking about Rolan? Mr. Know it all? The arch workaholic? He's not going to listen to me.” 

Lia leans against the bar dramatically, “Could you just give it a try, please? We have tried everything we could think of to get him to take some time off to destress but nothing has worked. We are hoping that because he has a soft spot for you he will listen to you.”

A scoff leaves you, “Rolan does not have a soft spot for me…” 

Lia and Cal share a quick look before Cal speaks up again. 

“Just one try, for his health. I swear every time I’m near him I can feel his tension radiate off him, take him out somewhere so he can unwind, and if he rejects you I will buy your drinks for two weeks.” 

Closing your eyes you consider the chore. Seeing Rolan isn’t a bad thing you love getting any excuse to see that handsome face. Though pulling him from his work would not be an easy feat, but…you do enjoy teasing him, those looks he gives you when you get under his skin always sends a rush of heat to rise to your cheeks. Plus if he is overworking himself you can’t let that happen to your favorite wizard (sorry Gale). Maybe this would be a good push to your friendship to move to more…romantical areas….plus there was that spot you wanted to take him and tonight is as good of a time as any. If all else fails and Rolan heartbreakingly rejects you for a night outing at least you will get free drinks for the next two weeks to wash away the pain.

“Okay, I will handle it, but be ready to have to buy a lot of ale for the next two weeks Cal,” you say as you gather your stuff and step towards the doors. Cal and Lia watch as you walk out of the tavern into the night towards Ramazith Tower. 

“Think there's a chance he will reject her and we will have to deal with a tense Rolan?” Cal asks Lia worriedly. 

Lia scoffs and settles herself on a seat at the bar, “Please, Rolan can’t deny her, and even if he wants to pretend he can, do you think she’s going to take no for an answer?” 

“Those two are really into each other huh?” 

“Yeah, Let's hope one of them finally realizes it and does something about it tonight. I have a bet with Larkissa that Tav makes the first move, and I want my 50 gold.”

Wow, they were right…he looks so stressed.

Your eyes watch as Rolan's taut back stays hunched over the journal he is scribbling in as he studies an old-looking tome. The only part that moves on him is his hand and he writes in a frantic motion. His golden eyes peering at the tome then back to his journal as he continues, it's clear he has been at this for a while. 

Leaning against the doorway you study his profile for a bit longer. Hair was done in its elaborate bun to hide his ears, brows underneath his well-kept horns furrowed in irritation, and the most perfect nose in all of Faerûn. Let's see if we can’t get him to scrunch it in irritation. 

“And what happened to the master of Ramaziths Tower? Worked so hard he died from stress, he was so young…” 

Rolan seems surprised for a moment before he turns his head to see your smug grin, this earns you an eye roll,  “What happened to the Hero of Baldur's Gate? Oh, she pushed her luck too many times and was thunder waved out of Ramazith's Tower.” 

Sontering in you wave him off dismissively, “See you're so tired you're unable to come up with your own insults. That means it’s time you take a break.” 

Scoffing, he turns away from you going back to scribbling away, “You sound like Cal and Lia…” 

“They did send me to get you.”

“Of course they did” 

Getting closer you see the swarm of papers and books he’s been busying himself with, ignoring it all you sit on his desk and look down at him as he writes. He seems to look at your legs for a moment before shaking his head and going back to what he was writing. Usually, he would be nagging you about your poor manners and the fact that you are bothering him, must be too tired to fight. You watch him as he slowly starts up his work again trying to ignore your ass so close to his hands crushing his papers. His nose is starting to scrunch and you can only smile with a sweet taunting hum. Crossing your legs gets his attention one more time before he mumbles something to himself. 

“Work, work, work, write, write, write, Rot, rot, rot” you chant in a sing-song voice as you shake your foot bumping him slightly.  

“Must you annoy me?” he grumbles

“You're just annoyed because you're so pent up with stress, come on let's go out.” 

Rolan looks up at you and furrows his brows, nose still scrunched, “I’m annoyed because of everyone constantly pestering me when I have a thousand things to do. I’m not going anywhere and I am not…pent up…” 

You let out a loud sigh, “Oh come on Rolan you're so pent up with stress you could pop, just a small break, a nice stress-free night will do you some good, then we will leave you alone to be the great grump of Ramaziths. Plus I have something I want to show you that I found the other day.” 

Rolan keeps his head down scribbling, “It will be really fun.” you coo

He continues to ignore you. You frown before leaning down to his ear. “Please…” you whisper softly

Rolan stops his writing and groans. 

“Come on Rolan! Just a bit further!” 

“Where the hells are you taking me!” 

“It's a surprise! Now hurry up!” 

You're both running in the forest outside of the gate, you're ahead of him leading the way but you can hear the snapping of twigs and slight infernal cusses as he tries to keep up. You can't help but laugh as he continues his grumpy pursuit. Finally, you reach your destination with a bright smile on your face as you wait for Rolan to emerge from the thicket. Biting your lip in expectation you bounce on the heels of your feet, this will be perfect…

You had found this place on one of your walks and knew that you would have to come back, and bringing Rolan only made it all the better. A secret hot spring is hidden away in the thick forest, perfect for two. The water looks as if it glows a cyan blue, it seems to glitter underneath the full moonlight. Your eyes watch as the steam from the water rises to the vast starlit sky. This will be perfect for relieving stress. 

Finally, you hear him come into the clearing, his once pristine appearance is now a mess with twigs in his now messy hair and robes covered in dirt from where he must have fallen trying to keep up with you. The smile on your face never falters and he approaches you with an unamused look. He looks past you at the heated water and raises an eyebrow.

“A hot spring? You know if you wanted to bathe…” 

Rolan's words halt as you start loosening the strings of your bodice. Looking up you meet his golden eyes and smirk at his surprised face as you drop your bodice to the ground. His eyes widen and his lips slightly part before he turns away quickly. 

“Come on Rolan, a late night dip under the stars. You can’t beat that. Plus I bet once that water hits your skin all your stress will melt away.”

You start stripping off your undershirt quickly followed by your pants. Your eyes watch Rolan's back as it seems to tense at each sound of your clothes rustling and falling. His tail whips around seemingly uncontrollably, before wrapping around his leg, you're still trying to figure out if it is from excitement or irritation.  

“You have been traveling with Halsin for too long…” 

You laugh at the comment, “Well, he is rather wise, learned a lot from him while on our journey…”

Rolan's tail twitches before he turns around quickly to face you. His eyes widen as he sees your scantily clad undergarments, not like you went and changed before going to fetch him…

He turns back around quickly “Like what…” he mutters, is he? Jealous… 

“Just…things…” you say almost tauntingly. You just can’t resist, from the moment you two started becoming friends you two have been taunting and teasing at every opportunity.  Sometimes you don’t know if you want to punch him or kiss him. Though now…you can only think of one thing…

Taking off your undergarments and then by complete ‘accident’ you toss them towards his feet. He looks down at them for a second before you watch his tail rise slightly before falling back down and lifting his head to look up at the starry sky. 

“I’ve learned things from my other companions as well…”  you say softly, almost too sweetly

A nervous laugh seems to rise harshly from his chest. Slowly you approach Rolan, you're being extremely quiet and you're completely bare. “Like Astarion for example” Right behind him now you look up at his tightly set bun, and with a quick moment you pluck the tie keeping it up out, That should loosen him some, “taught me to sneak up on people to take things.”

Rolan starts to turn his head but seems to stop himself remembering you're now naked. Not that you would mind his golden eyes taking you all in. With his hair now down you finally see his sharply pointed ears, they are cute and with their marron coloring at the tips completely giving away how embarrassed he is at the moment. Part of you wants to take the opportunity to be naughty and nibble on his ear while playing with his loose hair. Best not to push your luck however.  

Proud of successfully teasing him you decide to finally get into the water. Stepping carefully into the calm water the heat craseing your skin immediately relaxes you. The water is the perfect temperature and you quickly sink in and swim around enjoying yourself with pleasant sighs. Turning your head you see Rolan watching with what you think is a smile on his face.  

“Come on in, the water is great!”

“Dry land is also great.” 

“So you're just going to let me swim alone?” you watch as Rolan thinks for a moment “It's very relaxing…” you coo 

He finally sighs, “Fine…just to make sure you don’t drown out here…” 

“Lucky me ~”

Instead of ripping his clothes off quickly and jumping into the water ready to confess his desires to you as you hoped, Rolan instead brings his hands to undo his collar slowly and methodically. Somehow the slow stripping is not only frustrating you but also exciting you, the robe rolls off his shoulders and he takes the time to fold it up neatly. A tightening in your lower stomach is driving you mad, how hard is it to undress quickly? 

Opening your mouth to give him a hard time your comment gets halted in your throat. Rolan lifts his red undershirt over his head exposing his chest lined with beautiful ridges. The ridges seem to lead your eyes along his surprisingly athletic build, the moonlight shining on his body showing off just how toned he is; tense muscles being stretched as he raises his arms to relieve some tension from being so confined. He’s been hiding all this under those robes? That's just criminal…

Then his hands go for his belt and you're completely caught in a trance mouth slightly parting as he undoes the first button, seeming to remember your presence in the shining spring his golden eyes lock with yours and all your previous nerve leaves as your heart lurches. Quickly you turn around breaking his gaze, you swear you hear a slight chuckle before the clearing of his throat. Closing your eyes you chastise yourself for being a pervert, but that still doesn’t stop the image of his bare body replaying over and over in your mind running through all the possibilities the night could hold.  

Sounds of sloshing water along with a sigh breaks you from your thoughts. Turning you can’t help but smile at what looks like a very blushy Rolan, feeling nice you give him a round of applause as he settles in the warm water.

Rolan rolls his eyes, “Your an idiot” 

“What, I thought you liked adoring applause?” 

Rolan ignores your comment, shaking his head as he cups the shimmering water in his hands. You take the time to admire him trying to relax the best he can, his loose hair hovering softly over his shoulders, you see that not only do his freckles decorate his face, but they are also peppered against his tense shoulders. With a quick motion, Rolan brings the spring water towards his face, rubbing the water against his face then keeping his hands over his eyes for a long moment. You watch him confused by him keeping his eyes covered.  

“What are you doing?” 

A sigh leaves his nose before he responds, “Relaxing”

Getting closer you do a testing poke to his left shoulder, and an irritated groan leaves his chest. 

“You don’t seem relaxed…” 

“I’m working on it.”

“Maybe you should try swimming around then?”

Rolan pulls his hands from his eyes, golden irises glow as his ardent gaze lands on you. Suddenly you're hyper-aware of how close you two have drifted and how bare you are right underneath the cyan water. All your previous nerve starts to sink away being replaced by a growing flush to your skin. 

Rolan lifts a brow leaning down slightly to take in your face, you put on your best poker face to seem unbothered through Rolan quickly sees past it and is ready to tease you, “Heat finally getting to you?” 

“No”

“Then why are you so red?” 

“Why are you so red?” 

Rolan folds his arms over his chest and you roll your eyes, “redder than usual” 

“What do you expect? It’s hot.” 

“Aren't tieflings like…heat resistant?” 

Rolan goes to argue back but he seems to be unable to think of anything so he turns his back towards you muttering under his breath. 

Turned away, you trace the paths left by his infernal ancestors. He seemed to have relaxed when teasing you, but now…

“You can feel the tension radiating off….” 

Rolan's ears seem to perk up and he glances at you. 

You sigh, “I was hoping to help…”

“I…you…” Rolan sighs collecting his thoughts, a cuss slips his lips before he starts again, “You are helping…I just…” Rolan takes his hand to cover his eyes again, “I don’t know how to let myself relax…” 

Carefully you reach your hands to rub his back, he practically feels like a board, so tense under your fingers. You lean your head to rest on him.

“Rolan, let me…try something….” 

You continue to rub his back and shoulders gently working out the knots. Right as he seems to start to relax he tenses up again. A soft hum leaves you as you continue to work down his back. Dropping from his shoulders you use his ridges to guide you, softly you rub his shoulder blades feeling the sharp tips. When you touch them you feel Rolan tense and lean forward slightly. 

“Am I hurting you?” 

Rolan looks over his shoulder, his eyes moving from your flushed shoulders following the drips running back into the cloudy water keeping the rest of you hidden, only enough for his imagination to run wild. “No, I’m just…not used to being touched like this.” 

“I could stop…”

You keep your hands on his spine, trying to savor this moment in case he says yes. You close your eyes and keep your hands as gentle as possible hoping he won't say yes, that he won’t move away. Just keeping this moment touching his warm skin for a bit longer…

“Don’t stop…it's helping me” 

Biting down the smile on your lips you continue to rub his back blindly moving through the water. Over time you get lower slightly rubbing above the base of his tail. A steady sigh leaves Rolan's chest as you continue to work. You even feel all your nerves starting to settle in this perfect moment, then suddenly a wrapping around your calf startles you enough to let out a yipe. Rolan, snapping back to reality goes to retreat his tail and move away from you, but before he can run away you quickly grab his wrist. He pauses for a second, then he turns towards you, your eyes wide, lips trembling for the words to say.  

It only takes a moment before Rolan pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you suddenly and burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

“I’m sorry…” 

“D-don’t be…” 

Rolan moves his face from your neck and you feel your body heating up as his shining eyes watch you, slowly roaming from your eyes to your glossy lips, then down to where your chest is pressing against his. 

Rolan's eyes linger for a moment before he brings his head down to whisper, “You feel like you're burning up…” 

All you can do as you feel his clawed hands moving slowly down your back is nod and lean into him further. Touching him now he seems much more relaxed, more open, confident. Right as you're settling yourself on his chest you whisper the words he’s been waiting to hear. 

“Kiss me…” 

Quickly you feel his hand lifting your chin and then meeting your lips for an almost too eager kiss, but you had been wanting this equally as bad. Rolan's lips are soft and assertive as he leads you through the kiss. The familiar feeling of his tail sliding up your leg no longer draws a gasp from you but a wanting moan, craving for his warmth to further engulf you. Rolan, always striving for more, lifts your arms to wrap around his neck as he slips his smooth tongue in your mouth to get a taste of you. It's deep, and teasing as it slides against yours making you meet his enthusiasm, and driving you to want more. Before long you find yourself with fist fulls of his loose hair while his sharp nails dig into the fat of your ass, Pressing you into his hardened shaft, it practically throbs on your thigh. 

As you start breaking from the kiss to fully catch your breath Rolan bites on your lower lip, careful not to break the delicate skin, only enough pressure to have you whine before he’s releasing it from his sharp teeth. You're a panting mess feeling like your body is on fire, the spring, his hot touch, your blazing arousal dripping down your thighs; it's all starting to be too much for you. Rolan brushes his nose to yours to bring you back from your fuzzing mind. 

“I think it's time you get out. You're as red as me now.” his rich voice taunts 

A quick laugh leaves you before it’s ripped from you abruptly. Rolan almost as quickly as he kisses you, he lifts you guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. With shocking little effort, Rolan carries you out of the hot spring back to the dry bank. The sudden chill of the air nipping at your skin should leave you shivering, but wrapped in Rolan's warm limps you find yourself perfectly comfortable. 

Playfully you twist and pull the strains of his soft hair. “Not to sound like an insult but I’m surprised you're able to carry me. I didn’t think wizards were all that strong?” 

You're both out of the water, dripping on the springs bank still wrapped tightly in his hold. Rolan rolls his eyes at your statement before responding with a smirk, “Well you should know that no wizard can match me, from my talent to my strength.” 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now and as you do he bounces you within his arms forcing you to grab him tighter making him laugh at you.

“Well, you are definitely relaxed now.” 

“I am, I should thank you, Hero.” 

You feel yourself getting wetter from his sultry words, “How do you plan on doing that, Archmage?

His eyes spark with something and he grins allowing you to see his sharp canines and molars, “I’m thinking I’m going to fuck you on the bank of this hot spring. Is that what you want?” 

Leaning in you breathe into his pointed ears, “Yes…” 

Then in the next moment, you feel his lips leaving messy kisses over your neck causing you to hold on tighter as Rolan slowly lowers you to the cool ground. The chill of the forest floor on your back makes a shiver rush your spine causing your nipples to perk and your body to shake. A whine leaves your chest and a smile stretches to his lips as he pulls away from you, his shining eyes roam over your body as he carefully moves his hands to your hips and adjusts to a kneel. Slightly digging in his nails, he pulls your body causing his length to brush your slick sex. 

The heat of his cock pressed on your soft flesh makes you shut your eyes with a whimper, he’s not even in you, and your whining. 

“Keep your eyes on me.” his voice commands as his hands lift your legs onto his textured shoulders. 

Finally opening your eyes you see his eyes watching you as he presses a kiss to your inner knee before taking a quick nip to it causing your hips to buckle forward. 

That only feeds his ego, “Don’t tell me you're sensitive…” 

You narrow your eyes, “if you were underneath me I would have you whimpering, so don’t get cocky.” 

Rolan lets out a laugh as he looks down at your spread sex, wet and quivering for him. You can hear his tail begging to swish behind in excitement. 

“We will have to test that on a different night…You look too perfect spread open and waiting for me.” Rolan taunts as he brings his hand to slide his fingers over your glistening cunt, then rubbing slow circles to your swollen clit. 

The sensation of his dexterous fingers stimulating your bud causes you to grind your hips on him for more. Falling deeper into the pleasure you feel your lower stomach twist as waves of heat flood your body. You can’t help but shut your eyes with a shivering breath as soft moans slip through your lips. 

Rolan tsk as he suddenly pinches your clit making you gasp and shoot your eyes open.  “Keep your eyes on me. Understand?” 

You quickly nod, keeping your eyes on his gorgeous face. His fingers slide to your entrance, slipping his middle finger slowly to rub your soft fluttering walls. Watching you intensely he slips in a second finger curling the long digits in your velvety insides. Moans of his name and pleads flow out of your lips as he keeps a steady tempo. 

“You're being so obedient…that's new for you…” 

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can Rolan twists his fingers to the spot that's making you see stars. Rolan seeing your slack jaw expression speeds up his motions. The twisting in your lower stomach gets tighter and tighter as you look at Rolan with pleading eyes. Seeing your expression and feeling your walls clamping down on him, he knows you're closer and he brings his tail to flick on your clit as his other hand keeps your grinding hips in a firm hold. 

You are panting as you dig your fingers into the ground you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap. Rolan's eyes are on you, staring intensely as he studies every one of your expressions, he looks divine. 

“F-Feels so-so good!” You scream breathlessly 

He smiles at your stammering, getting excited from your praise. “Yeah? Then cum for me.” 

Nodding absently mindlessly you feel his tail flick faster and his fingers curl deeper so perfectly making your coil suddenly snap and your body explode in a wave of white-hot ecstasy as you feel yourself squirt on his fingers, running down his hands and thighs now. 

 “Prefect…” Rolan whispers as he watches you come down from your high while slowly rubbing your release over his swollen cock. 

“You want more?” he asks as he lines himself up to your tight slit. 

“Please~” You hum out blissfully, feeling his ridged length’s heat radiating onto you. 

Rolan chuckles with a shake of his head, “So greedy…” 

He braces his hand tightly on your hip as he pushes the heat of his dick into your cunt. It’s hot and intense as it slides and stretches you. Your walls clench as you moan his name as his ridges rub your insides deliciously. Your thighs tighten as he pushes into you fully, his nails digging into you as his cock throbs as you adjust to him. 

“Gods you feel good” he sighs in pleasure. He moves his eyes from where he’s buried within you to your blissed-out face. Rolan brings a hand to cup your cheek and you melt into his touch, turning your face to kiss his palm before giving him a nod that you are ready. 

Rolan presses kisses on the insides of your legs again as he brings his hands to your waist. Slowly he starts positioning into you, your eyes roll back as his strokes nudge his burning cock right into your spongy spot that's making you mew shamelessly at every thrust. Rolan picks up his thrusting as he feels your walls clenching on him. 

“You're taking-ta-taking me so well darling.” he groans, throwing his head back as his balls slap against you. 

Rolan moves your hips up and down to match his thrust as his breathing quickens. Squirming and curling your toes you feel yourself approaching your climax again, but this time you're desperate to have Rolan cum with you. 

Rocking your hips against him faster you drive him deeper as his cock now rubs your cervix and your walls lick his ridges.  “Rolan, you're amazing! Fantastic! I’m yours whenever you want me! Fuck! Right there!” 

Rolan’s sweating skin further flushes at your praise and his moans turn into broken whines as he fucks you faster and bounces you at the perfect pace. 

With a couple more thrusts that familiar rush floods you as you arch your back mindlessly screaming as you make a mess over Rolan's cock. With your orgasm quivering and sucking him in he stills and squeezes you tightly as his dick throbs and spurts his burning cum deep within you. Stars slowly fade from your vision as you focus on a panting Rolan still buried deep in you. 

With hooded eyes you give a lazy smile, Rolan eyes are glazed over but still focused on you as he smiles back at you. Slowly he pulls out and you wince at the feeling of the sudden emptiness. Rolan settles beside you and carefully holds you to his chest as his tail wraps around your ankle gently. 

“Rest with me for a while…then come back to the tower with me.” 

You hum in agreement as you let your relaxed state move you to one of sleep. Perfectly warm and perfectly relaxed wrapped in each other's arms. 

Larkissa is busy drying the goblets behind the bar to prepare for tonight's service. A tapping of nails on the counter gets her attention away from the task. She turns her head to see a smirking Lia. 

“A bet is a bet and I want my 50 gold,” Lia says, holding out her hand. 

Larkissa huffs and digs in her pockets, She will have to scold Rolan for not being assertive enough to make the first move.

[forgeofthenine]

Hiii can I request the tieflings (zevlor, dammon and rolan) with a significant other who likes to get spanked and is generally into bdsm?

You absolutely can request some BDSM headcanons! I love getting to write a bit of spice for these guys, hope you all enjoy too :)

TW: NSFW under cut, impact play, orgasm denial, overstimulation, bondage, mentions of degradation

The bachelors with a partner that likes BDSM

Dammon

So, we all know by now that Dammon is absolutely no stranger to kinks like BDSM

However, I do think you might have to be the one to float the idea with him first, he's a bit worried about scaring you off

Once you bring it up though, you've unleashed a beast

Out of the three, Dammon is the one most into bondage

He's more than happy to use ropes or silk to tie you to his bedposts, or to tie you up in shibari style bondage

This man is good with his hands, he'd do so many pretty and decorative designs so he can admire them while fucking you

"So pretty, all for me."

In regards to impact play, he's more than ready to spank you

I feel like he'd enjoy swatting at your ass in passing, it's one of the ways you know he's a bit pent up

And in terms of other impact play, let's just say you guys don't need whips or canes when he's already got his tail-

Dammon would also definitely be into a little roleplay

You pretending to be a customer that's a bit short on change, but it's okay because there's something else Dammon will take as payment

Zevlor

Zevlor is the one that needs the most reassurance, he's initially scared that he'll hurt you (despite that being kind of the point)

Ease him into BDSM and soon you'll have reawakened a kink he forgot he had

I feel like he'd really enjoy some temperature play, hot wax in particular

Having you lying down on your stomach as he watches the way you shift and moan with every bit of wax that's dripped onto you

Wax play works him up so much he can't help but grind against you as he drips it down your skin

Zevlor can absolutely be convinced to spank you too

Once he gets comfortable with the idea he'd definitely bend you over his knee and give you exactly what you want

Over time he regains a lot of his confidence and it shows with every strike against your ass

Zevlor will use his tail to hold you still or pull you back into position if you squirm too much, a low murmur leaving him telling you to "be good and stay still"

Call him Commander in bed

It's the easiest way to have him fuck you into the mattress, he'll go near feral as soon as you break out his former title

Rolan

Quite honestly jumps at the chance to experiment with you

You'll find very soon that his preference for bending you over also gives him ample opportunity to spank you

He takes the chance every time too, he's not satisfied until he knows you'll have trouble sitting the next day

If you're okay with it Rolan will be the most likely to bring degradation into his dirty talk

We all know he's good with words, he walks the line between praise and degradation very well, and he loves reducing you to a mess with only words and hands

Please roleplay as a bratty student/apprentice

Rolan is more than happy to put you in your place right there in his office, with you bent over his desk

Also the type to deny you your orgasm until you beg him enough

Once you do beg, well, he's going to let you cum... and then make you do it again and again until you beg to stop

"Now now darling, you were just begging me for this, be good and take it."

Just wait until Rolan does all of these in the same session and makes you feel like you've just seen god

[avocado-writing]

hi!! ive.. gone and read so much of ur work in one sitting. its all so much to take in, IN A GOOD WAY, and i absolutely adore every single word

would u be so kind.. to bless my angst durge needs..

Durge Resist tav, was strong for all until the brain was finally defeated but now, with what she believed her only purpose/chance at redemption (brain), they can't help but feel utterly empty and,, unredeemed. They mourn all those they have robbed from this world, nameless, and countless numbers of people they robbed of the life that they were now being given the chance at living. Surely they don't deserve it(Is what they think..)

They are pathetically in love, and if they deserve anything, its to tell their special one just how much they are adored before casting themselves out of society (or taking their own life, if ur comfortable writing such things-)

Rolan, Dammon, Zevlor, maybe even Rugan if u write for that loser LMAO. just.. whoever u write for, its the tieflings i adore most ahegege

if this didnt make sense IM SORRY i havent slept in so long and sleep is not choosing me. i just crave angst, perhaps with a happy ending if u would indulge me so..!! thank u if u read this, so much!!

hi, I don't write fics about suicide, but here's the tiefling bachelors with a durge who's planning to disappear after the absolute is gone and giving them one final confession:

Dammon

senses something is wrong when you take him aside for a heart-to-heart.

it isn't that you avoid these sorts of moments per se, he just knows you only affirm your affections when something big is going to happen (you did it before you went off to fight the elder brain)

he holds your hand tightly, gets you to look him in the eye.

"I love you, no matter what, and I never want to be without you. tell me you'll be there when I wake up tomorrow. in our bed. swear it to me."

you can see the utter adoration he looks at you with, and you think: maybe you aren't so bad if a man like this can truly love you.

the next morning Dammon wakes up. you're not in bed next to him. he panics, getting to his feet - only to find you in the kitchen making breakfast.

he's never been so relieved. walks up behind you and wraps you in his arms. he loves you so dearly, and will keep on loving you until you believe yourself worthy of it.

Rolan

Rolan doesn't quite understand why you're having this great outburst, but chalks it down to emotions running high after the final battle.

says goodnight, kisses you, and heads off to his tower - he has a lot of admin to do after all.

the next morning he comes to meet you at the elfsong, only to be met with the realisation that you aren't there. he curses himself for not understanding why you were so melancholic last night.

he tracks you down. uses all of his resources to scry on you, grease palms with the money the tower has. he's up all night for weeks. Cal and Lia worry about him but he is determined.

and find you he does. manages to locate where you're hiding out, a little hamlet in the middle of nowhere. you burst into tears when you see him, and he just pulls you into his arms.

"come home with me."

you do, moving into his tower. and you never leave him again.

Zevlor

immediately knows something is wrong. takes you to a quiet place where the two of you can be alone and talk things out.

discusses how he feels like being a failure for breaking his oath -- but you always saw past that. saw the goodness in his soul. he wishes you would treat yourself with that kindness.

you begin to cry, softly at first, and then with sobs which wrack your whole body. he holds you ever so tightly.

"I love you. you are not who you were. you have strived to be better every day, fought against your own family, and always chosen a righteous path. you deserve to be happy. I'd want to make you happy, if you'd let me."

eventually your tears run dry and you look up into his face. his eyes are so sincere. he means every word.

when you kiss him, it's a promise: that you're with him for good. that whatever comes next, it will be faced together.

[viennacherries]

Headcannons for Rolan, Zevlor, Dammon, and whoever else you want with a partner who’s huge on giving them body worship? I want them all to know they’re loved, especially their physical attributes (Larian let me kiss Rolan’s freckles you cowards)

yesyesyes you absolutely can! lots of freckle kisses for rolan, he deserves them. added an element of acts of service because i think they deserve it. +bonus gale because he DESERVES IT

rolan's is a little suggestive but there's no nsfw.

SFW

~~~

ROLAN

Rolan spends so much time bent over his desk that he comes to bed one night literally hunched over.

"Babe... Why are you standing like that?" "... My neck hurts."

It takes a little convincing, but eventually Rolan agrees to let them give him a bath and a massage.

They massage his head while they wash his hair and it eases a headache he didn't even realise he had. How long has there been pressure behind his eyes? Too long, evidently.

They trail their hands over his shoulders and back, drawing lines with soap between all of his freckles like constellations. He can't help sighing into it.

After the bath they lay him down on his front in their bed, and they straddle him to massage his back and neck.

Rolan's never had a massage before. He's completely mind-blown.

He feels like how he did when he first started dating them, where every time they touched him it felt electric. Every pass of their hands over the knots in his back has him relaxing further into the mattress.

His partner obviously adores this, and when they're sure he's relaxed enough they roll him over and travel his whole body, kissing every inch of him. When he breathlessly asks what they're doing, they say that they're determined to kiss every freckle on his body.

"... Every freckle...? Even...?"

"Yes, Rolan. Even those ones."

They keep their word. Rolan's muscles are incredibly relaxed by the time they both go to bed.

ZEVLOR

They're Zevlor's first partner in quite a while so he's always eager to please. He's usually the one doing the worshipping.

He's an older guy. He's been through the wringer a few times. He's ready to settle down and treat you right.

He just. Isn't expecting that treatment back?

It's probably something to do with how used to the idea of people relying on him he's become. He just naturally assumes the role of caretaker.

His partner notices this early on and makes an effort to show Zevlor all the love they can, so that at least around them he's not the only one doing the heavy lifting.

They bring him in for hugs and kisses whenever they get the chance and let him sleep on their chest. He loves it endlessly.

One day he comes into their home and he seems quieter than usual.

With a bit of prodding he reveals that he's feeling his age a bit today. When he looked in the mirror this morning his wrinkles seemed more noticeable, and every time he had to crouch he felt his knees pop and struggled to stand back up straight.

He's a bit insecure, and he feels unworthy of his partner because he feels like he's past his prime.

Well. That just won't do.

Cue kisses all over his face, every wrinkle and crease that they find has gentle pecks placed all the way along it.

By the time they're done Zevlor is a blushing, giggling mess. He feels like he's 100 years younger, but he also feels less like it matters if he's getting older. They love him regardless.

DAMMON

Dammon is the easiest to get to accept care of the three of them. He'll tease and moan that he should be the one looking after them, but he loves it really.

He's never really had someone who properly looks after him like this. He relishes it.

Their favourite way of showing love to his body is after he's spent a long day over the forge.

He comes in covered in smudges of ash and dirt, soaked through with sweat.

It's become a nightly ritual. They slowly undress him, and lead him to the basin with a warm cloth and a tender touch.

They clean his face first, wipe away the dirt and grime and kiss in the wake of the cloths path.

Then it's his hands, and they take extra care of his hands. They're his lifeblood, the most important tool to his craft, so they show every digit exceptional love. Kiss every joint, massage his hands til all of the tension of the day is gone.

They'll sponge him down if he asks, but he usually prefers to do that bit alone. He finds some peace in washing away the days sweat and restoring himself to normalcy.

If he asks, they'll draw him a bath, fill it with lovely smelling oils. They'll cleanse him top to toe until he's a puddle in their arms.

Dammon absolutely adores it. He's never felt so cherished.

+ GALE

Gale still struggles with his self-worth in the aftermath of everything that happened.

The mark of the orb is particularly difficult for him. It doesn't hurt anymore, but it's a constant reminder of his greatest mistake.

His partner thinks it rather suits him, honestly, but it bothers him and therefore it demands their attention.

If they spot him staring at it in the mirror, they'll come up behind him and wrap their arms around him, covering the scar with their arms.

When he turns to face them, they'll dance gentle kisses over the lines of the mark, trail their fingers over it gently til he shivers.

They generally just like putting their hands over it, lavishing it with little touches and rubs. They almost lost him to the damn orb. To them, the scar is a reminder that they won.

Gale still doesn't like that it's there, but he supposes he can get over it.

After all, it all worked out in the end, didn't it?

[underdark-dreams]

[ch1] - [ch2] - [ch3]

A Strand to Climb - Ch.4

The morning before everything changes, Rolan and Tav wake up together.

Tags: Smut, Fluff, Confessions, NSFW | Word Count: 4,409 [Read on AO3]

A low grumble of thunder brought her gently from sleep. The sounds of rain floated back to her ears; the downpour had slowed to a steady shower during the night.

Against her back, Tav felt the steady rise and fall of Rolan’s chest. His arm had curled around her to tuck his hand between her ribcage and the mattress.

She opened her eyes toward the shuttered window of Rolan’s room. It was after the city guard had snuffed the streetlamps, but before the first light of dawn—a time when the darkness outside was deepest. The room around them was blanketed with it. Despite the hour, she found her mind surprisingly clear. The two of them had drifted off before sunset, after all. 

As she lay there listening to him breathe under the soft patter of rain, guilt gnawed its way into her chest. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep so easily—not without saying everything she came here to say. The Nightsong, Dame Aylin, the truth behind those runes in Lorroakan’s study.

If only she didn’t have such a damn soft spot in her heart for anything that concerned Rolan. 

He had made getting to the point so difficult. Growing defensive at the slightest question; glancing at her from under his wet hair with that bedraggled yet defiant look in his eye. He was entirely too good at coaxing her off track, and he didn’t even know it.

Tav huffed a sigh into the pillow. When he woke, she had to tell him everything about his master’s plans. She wasn’t sure if she’d get another chance before everything crashed around their ears.

At the sound, Rolan’s fingers fidgeted slightly where they were pressed under her chest. Something about the motion struck her as deliberate.  

“Are you asleep?” She whispered into the dark.

There was a momentary pause. “No.” His words ghosted behind her ear, sending the most pleasant shiver down her spine.

She turned back toward him on the pillow. He read her intentions and dipped his head down toward hers without a word.

Their blind aim was slightly off—Rolan’s lips landed at the corner of her mouth, but they quickly found one another. Their lips notched together.

She told herself she just couldn’t help it. At a time when so much was uncertain and painful and difficult, kissing Rolan was the easiest thing. It required no thought; it was right.

Tav shifted her arm from under her to reach for his face, and her fingers met unexpected skin on the way. Curious, she reached out to explore and brushed across the bare, textured planes of his shoulders.

“Your shirt?”

Rolan kissed her a few more times. “You're very warm,” he explained.

She grinned lazily against his lips. “We didn't have to sleep so close, you know. I can give you some room—”

“No—” Rolan’s hand flew from her rib cage to land firmly below her navel, pressing her back to him, as if she might actually leave. “Don't you dare.”

It was insistent, and combined with the warmth of his palm on her belly, Tav melted back into the kiss. He was a fool if he thought anything could take her away right now.

Their lips turned soft against each other—then seeking, then hungry. His warm breath fanned out over her cheek as his nose brushed hers. Her hand curled to find its mark at the nape of his neck. Though he’d called her warm, Rolan’s skin was positively heated against her.

It made an ache settle between her legs. When she shifted slightly at the feeling, she found that he was already hard against the small of her back. She made an impatient sound against his mouth and abruptly kicked off the covers.

“Touch me,” she implored.

“Gods, yes—”

At his soft assent, Rolan’s hand quickly slid from her belly to seek the hem of her borrowed shirt, tugging it up past her flanks. 

As he did his nails skated along the skin of her thighs, and the sensation sent another flush of heat diving between them. She rolled her hips with a soft noise of anticipation.

He moved eagerly at the sound. His hand gently nudged her thighs open, dipping a single finger to swipe slickly up her folds. Her mouth parted in a satisfied inhale.

Rolan’s chin fell against the crook of her neck with a groan, and she felt the sound ring sweetly between her shoulder blades. But he moved a second finger across her, circling and teasing her slit at a pace that was almost maddeningly deliberate.

When the pads of his fingertips traveled up to brush her clit, her hips bucked into him in reflex. Tav’s hand flew back impulsively behind her head, where it met with one of his curving horns. She gripped hard. 

“Gods, your hands,” she whispered. “More—”

She’d imagined Rolan’s fingers many nights alone in her tent—nights when she had only her own for company. Her imagination was nothing compared to the feel of him softly exploring her. Though tentative at first, he proved shockingly dextrous, with a control of pace and pressure that stoked the ache between her legs to a white-hot band of heat stretching tight at her core.

She’d never spared much thought for the fringe benefits of Rolan’s training. Right now—as his fingers worked a stroking rhythm across her clit, intently following her breathless directions—she thanked every god in the pantheon for his dedication to his craft.

While she panted and whined under his touch, Rolan’s other arm had curled between the pillows to cradle her neck. When he hit a pace that made a low moan rise in her throat, Rolan’s free hand touched softly over her lips. Reminding her that others were sleeping nearby.

It wasn’t fair; she wanted him to hear exactly what he did to her. Just how badly she wanted him.

He seemed to sense her desperation regardless. Rolan’s palm fit more firmly over her mouth; he flattened the hand between her legs to grind and rub her center insistently. She moaned against his hand, letting her leg fall slack. His tail had already coiled tight around her thigh to keep her spread open for him.

Pressure clenched and built rapidly inside her from the sudden friction, and she was so close, so close—don’t stop, don’t stop, please please please—she wanted to moan, cry, scream out his name. Her world focused down to the pinpoint of Rolan’s fingers grinding against her oversensitive bundle of nerves—

She came hard again his hand, hips spasming and thighs clenching around his fingers. The sinews of his forearm flexed against her stomach as Rolan continued working her through her climax, his movements almost frantic, until he tipped her over the edge to overstimulation. 

With a shuddering gasp against his palm, the hand not grasping his horn like a lifeline closed around his wrist to ease him off her twitching core. His hand slid to rest over her trembling thigh instead, leaving a wet print of her own arousal on her skin.

She could only pant and squeeze her eyes shut against the darkness as tears pricked at the corners. His breath behind her was just as ragged, tickling the curve of her neck as he kissed across the exposed skin there.

“Gods…” she panted. His hand had released her mouth, settling across her clothed chest instead. “I always wondered…if you'd be good at that.”

Rolan’s teeth gently fastened over her shoulder in a biting kiss. “Somatic component,” he murmured against her flesh.

It was just absurd enough, just enough of the old cockiness she used to expect from him. A breathless laugh rose in her throat.

“You absolute wizard,” she scolded him, too sated to do anything else. Rolan only curled his arms and tail further around to hold her. She half expected a comment about how much she’d clearly enjoyed it, but his face lay quietly against the side of her neck.

Through her settling haze, she could still feel him pressing taut against her lower back. Not that she’d forgotten about him—quite the opposite. A fresh desire was already coursing through her, only spurred on by seeing him the past few days. Something she’d wanted to do since the first night he visited her tent for those innocent kisses. 

Using an old sparring move, she hooked one leg behind his knees and deftly flipped their bodies to land straddled on top of him. There was shocked silence from the spot where Rolan’s head had landed on the pillow. 

She took advantage of his surprise to capture Rolan’s lips again. It was a proper kiss this time, deep and heated, and she moaned when her tongue found the delicate points of his canines. 

She kept herself braced high on her arms, cautious not to press against any of the bruised spots she recalled glimpsing on his chest as he changed clothing.

Cautious too not to brush against him below the waist. From the hungry way his tongue explored her mouth, she knew he was stiffer than ever.

Instead she lowered herself carefully along the crook of his side, feeling Rolan’s palm slide up under her shirt and across the bare skin of her back. It left a trail of heat in its wake.

“Let me taste you,” she said against the point of his ear. 

Rolan’s breath audibly caught in his throat. She occupied herself with kissing along his ear tip until he gave a jerking nod.

As she dipped to his neck, his throat vibrated against her lips as Rolan spoke a low incantation. A ring of pale little flames swirled into existence on the ceiling above them. 

Tav raised her head to blink up at them, then to Rolan’s now-illuminated face. He wetted his lips with a nervous flick of his tongue.

“I want to watch you,” he confessed hoarsely. 

The words were somehow shy and lewd all at once, and they made desire coil through her stomach. For a moment she considered changing tactics and mounting him right there.

But the anticipation of watching what this might do to him was stronger. She hummed in approval against Rolan’s collar bone, shifting to kneel between his legs and continue her lips’ journey down his torso. 

His chest was beautiful—patterned with mesmerizing trails of little ridges along his shoulders, his ribcage, dipping down over the sides of his hips. 

“You’re so lovely,” she said against his ribs. Rolan squirmed quietly under her, but one of his hands rose to tangle in her hair.

She’d never had time to appreciate these parts of him properly before tonight. Now, for every scratch or bruise she discovered by the light of his spell, she placed several soft kisses. 

Part of her could tell he felt teased. But he deserved every one—he deserved to be adored, to be touched with gentleness like this. 

Rolan’s breath quickened as she made her way to the dip beside his hip bone, a sensitive spot where her lips now met with soft, smooth skin. As she kissed over him, her cheek brushed inadvertently against the straining hardness in his pants. 

Rolan drew air sharply between his teeth as his cock twitched beside her face; sharp nails clenched against her scalp. Impatient hunger bloomed in her, and she leaned back to hastily unfasten his trousers and strip them off.

When his bare legs straightened on either side of her again, she leaned in to deftly run her tongue up his ridged underside.

Rolan’s head tipped back with a quiet groan, his horns pressing into the pillows behind him. 

It was so tempting to just watch him come undone from her touch like that. But even stronger was her desire to make Rolan see stars with her mouth alone.

She closed her eyes and focused on working him over. She sucked him past her lips, keeping her pace slow and deliberate as she slid up and down over his tip with the flat of her tongue, over and over. She could practically feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest above her.

When she widened her mouth to take him in more fully, Rolan’s hand pulled away from her hair to stifle a moan against the skin of his knuckles.

Tav knew he was trying like hells to keep himself as quiet as possible. But she wished she could hear every starved moan and whimper her mouth wrung from him. The desire to draw those sounds from him was too strong to resist.

She began taking his cock even deeper with each rhythmic dip of her head. He was so impossibly hard; an ache settled in her jaw, only spurring her on. The ridges at his base grew slick with saliva, and each time her lips slid over them was more delicious than the last. 

When she added in a swirl of her tongue at the end of each motion, Rolan cursed and whined against his hand. His other scrabbled to find purchase in the sheets beneath them. Something firm and smooth circled her waist—anchoring himself with his sensitive tail.

She clenched her thighs together under her at his reactions, feeling wet arousal pool between them again at the way he was unraveling under her.

She quickly moved her hands’ support from the mattress to clutch the ridges over his hips for greater control. With a few more teasing flicks of her tongue over his tip, she felt Rolan’s restraint begin slipping completely. His hips thrust up reflexively to follow the pace of her mouth.

“Tav, I’m—not in your—” 

She glanced up without slowing her rhythm over his cock. Rolan panted as his golden eyes blazed down at her, his features screwed up in a deliciously desperate way, fingers shaking as they reached forward as if to tug her mouth off him.

With all her strength, she grabbed his wrists and pinned them down into the mattress on either side. She closed her eyes again to take him as deeply as possible, tasting a hint of salt at the back of her throat, and hollowed her cheeks to squeeze tightly around his cock as she pumped her mouth over him.

The lights above them abruptly snuffed out. Through the sudden darkness, she heard Rolan fighting to bite back a strangled sound from his throat. 

Then Rolan’s hands clenched to tight fists under hers as he released in her mouth. Hot spend painted the roof of her mouth, much more of it than she’d anticipated—she fought to swallow him down without choking. 

But the taste of him, the way his hips clenched and jerked against her lips—she could feel him come like this a thousand times under her and never tire of it. She stayed there until his twitching cock finally relaxed against her tongue. 

Then she released him with a smooth, wet sound, sitting back on her heels and wiping the back of a hand across her mouth.

Rolan breathed as though he’d just run a mile. His arms and legs were spread limp on the mattress, while his tail had loosened to a single loop resting atop her hips. She couldn’t make out his expression in the dark, but she let herself imagine it anyway—eyes staring up at the ceiling, glassy-eyed, jaw slack. On another plane of existence.

Without a word, she slid up to notch herself back against his side and nuzzle into his shoulder. His usually clean scent mingled with sweat and arousal; she found it intoxicating, and breathed deeply along the crook of his neck.

“No one’s ever done that for me before.” From beside her face, the confession was almost inaudibly quiet.

Tav raised her head from his shoulder to peer at him through low light. Rolan’s eyes were squeezed shut with little creases at the corners, as if he couldn’t bear to meet her gaze after speaking that aloud. 

She leaned in to place a long kiss on one of his eyelids. “I want to do that for you every day, if you’ll let me.” 

Rolan didn’t open his eyes; his arms circled her back to pull her firmly down against him. She immediately feared the pressure on his injured chest must be painful. But he only buried his face along her hair, placing his lips at the hollow beneath her ear.

“Then stay with me,” Rolan said against her skin. “I don’t want to watch you leave again, Tav. I’m done saying goodbye.”

He could be breathtakingly direct. Tav found her heart hammering against her ribs before her mind had even absorbed the full implication of his words.

For the first time since she awakened on that beach, surrounded by alien wreckage, she found her thoughts turning to the quiet of living. Not surviving, not fighting, not searching for a cure. Just the pleasant thought of the life she might find after it was all over. A life that included him.

“I want to stay, too.” The words rose from her throat like they’d been stuck there for months. “I don’t want to leave Baldur’s Gate again, Rolan, I don’t want to leave you—”

His lips were on hers again, blocking out the flow of words before she could say anything else. 

“I know I don’t deserve to ask you to wait, but I swear—just give me a few years and I’ll make a name for myself, I’m sure of it—I’ll convince Master Lorroakan to let us all live at the Tower together—”

Rolan was alternately rambing and pressing his lips over her jaw, her cheeks, her lips, his thoughts tumbling out almost ahead of his words.

As she let him go on, a deep sigh escaped her chest. Yet another absolutely perfect moment invaded by inconvenient reality. 

He grew very still against her. “What is it?”

“Rolan, listen…we need to talk about the Nightsong.”

—

By the time she finished, the first light of day was peeking through the window shutters and casting the room in fuzzy tones of gray. The colors of the dawn suggested a clear, bright morning was following on the heels of the storm.

“That profane bastard,” Rolan said up to the ceiling.

Tav watched him break his silence from her spot propped on an elbow beside him. Rolan had let her get out the full tale without speaking a word; he’d only watched her intently with his flame-gold eyes.

She told him about the Shadowfell, Balthazar’s necromancy, the Nightsong and Dame Aylin being one and the same. The secret of Ketheric’s immortality, and Lorroakan’s obvious plans to continue where an objectively more powerful man had failed. 

The Elder Brain at least she omitted for now—let him deal with one shock at a time.

As she waited for him to process it all, her eyes traveled anxiously over Rolan’s upturned face. “What are you thinking?”

“That I always thought he was a monster,” Rolan mused. His expression was soberly pensive. “As long as I didn’t see the full extent of it for myself, I supposed I could deny it. But I shouldn’t have given him the benefit of doubting. No good man beats his own student.”

At the words, she felt a surge of pride so strong that she wanted to grip his shoulders and shake him. She restrained herself to grabbing his jaw for a swift kiss.

“You’re right,” she said firmly. “The people who love you have felt the same for a long time.”

Rolan’s face fell at her words. “I owe Lia an apology,” he admitted abruptly.

“She only wants you to be safe and happy, Rolan. She’s been as worried for you as anyone.”

“I know—” The bridge of his nose wrinkled with discomfort. “That’s what makes it so damn difficult.”

They lay together for another quiet moment as the sounds of the waking city slowly built outside their room. She rested her cheek against him, tracing a thumb over the Infernal ridges along his sternum.

“There’s going to be a fight today,” she warned, stating the obvious, swiveling on her chin to look at him. “Lorroakan wants to soul bind a daughter of Selûne, one who only just escaped from a hundred-year prison. You should've seen what Dame Aylin did to the last man who did the same.”

Rolan considered that for a moment. 

“Then I suppose first of all, we should tell her,” he decided resolutely. 

Another long pause followed. From the way his fingers traced her back, she wondered if Rolan was filled with the same sense of nervous foreboding. How much easier it would be to stay in this warm bed together and ignore their reality.

Instead, she propped herself back up on an arm. “Let’s get dressed, then.” 

They reluctantly rose from the warm comfort of the blankets to find their clothes. As she stripped Rolan’s shirt up over her head, she caught him eyeing her.

“Don’t tempt me,” she warned.

“You look good in my things,” he defended himself, turning away. “Almost as good as you look out of them.”

Rolan busied himself with magically removing the wrinkles from his robes. It allowed her to grin to herself unnoticed as she pulled on yesterday’s clothes. It was positively stupid how happy he could make her. 

She waited for Rolan to twist his hair half-back in his particular way, then reached for the door.

“Wait—” 

Rolan quickly turned back to grab something from beside the bed—the small pack of scrolls she’d given him last night. He stared down into the bag for a moment, looking a bit like a child impatient to play with a new toy. Then he stowed it safely at the back of the wardrobe and stepped back to her.

In the front room, Lia was already awake and fully dressed at the table. She wore a red and gold surcoat over her leather jerkin, emblazoned with the crest of a hand clenched against fire. This must be one of her first days in the ranks of the Flaming Fist.

She greeted them both with a yawn and pushed the kettle across the table. “Tea?”

“Thanks.” Tav sat to pour a cup—one last bracing comfort before they faced what the day had in store.

Rolan hesitated for a moment, then slid into the chair beside her. Silently, his arm circled her back to rest his palm along her waist.  

Lia caught the gesture. “You two sleep well?” Her eyes were sphinxlike over the edge of her mug. 

“Yeah, we—”

“None of your—”

She and Rolan spoke over each other. Tav cast him an amused look. Did he really expect to keep up a pretense even now, after everything? Rolan cleared his throat.

“Fine,” he told Lia shortly. “The Tower’s cold. It was nice being warm for once.”

Lia grimaced at his expression and held up a hand. “Stop, no more. I’ll have to scrub out my ears till I reach my brain.”

“We’re going to kill Lorroakan today,” Tav added brightly.

There was a stunned pause. Then Lia’s mug hit the table with a smack. “Fucking finally, can I help?”

“Absolutely not,” Rolan warned her, his tone final. “I’ve put you and Cal in enough danger as it is. You’re not to come near the Upper City today, either of you.”

Lia’s brows drew into a suspicious line. She looked back and forth between both of them. “Why now? What’s he done?”

Rolan sat in thought for a moment. “Finally crossed a line.”

“He did that weeks ago,” Lia corrected. To Tav’s surprise, a gloved hand reached out to where Rolan’s lay on the table. It felt like a moment not for her to see.  

Tav rose from under Rolan’s arm to fetch her cloak from beside the fire, making as much noise as possible as she drew it on and settled the creases.

“I'll wait for you outside,” she told Rolan, leaning to place a kiss between his horns. Then she slipped out the door to give them a moment.

As usual, Heapside was awake before the rest of Baldur’s Gate. Nearby at the great south harbor, the shouts between ship crews and dock workers had already settled into a noisy but familiar tune. The street past Cal and Lia’s was filling with a steady stream of people young and old.

Ordinary people waking to ordinary lives. No tadpoles, no Illithid invasions, no all-powerful Elder Brains. No continual threat of some new megalomaniac set on immortal godhood at any cost.

Tav watched them come and go in quiet thought. What on earth would it feel like to join them?

The door latch behind her interrupted those musings.

“You could have stayed,” Rolan told her, immediately reaching for her hand as if it was the most natural thing. She smiled as they took up the path north together. 

“I figure you two haven't had much time to talk.”

“All that’s going to change soon,” Rolan replied. There was a determined spring in his step.

She laughed. “Speak for yourself. I intend to get you to myself quite a bit.”

Rolan’s only response was a low hum as they walked. When she glanced sideways, his cheek was flushed and the corner of his lips curved in an unwilling smile.

When the colorful domed roof of Sorcerous Sundries appeared before them, Tav felt the excitement fade back to a pit of trepidation in her stomach. Beside her, the shine in Rolan’s eyes had dimmed at the sight. She hated to see it, and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Just a few more hours,” she told him quietly.

“I’ll have my spells prepared,” he answered, and there was steel in his voice. He was looking past her now—toward the Upper City, and the glittering spire of Ramazith’s Tower.

“What if he surrenders?” Rolan asked seriously. “Not that I expect his pride to allow it…should we spare him?”

As Tav looked at Rolan’s bruised and marked face in the clear light of morning, she knew exactly what her answer would be.

“It may not be up to us,” was all she admitted.

Then she slanted her face into his for one more kiss. Much as she wanted to linger, she had to prepare for the day—and the conversation with Aylin could wait no longer.

As she turned away north toward the Elfsong, Rolan called after her. “How will I know when?”

“She’s an aasimar,” Tav said over her shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll know.”