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truly-sincerely · 6 months

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Even More Comprehensive BG3 Timeline

(Now with citations!) Years in (paren) are confirmed, all other lines are approximations. For my own sanity this timeline is based on available in-game information and not the Forgotten Realms at large.

1450s

Enver Flymm born

Gale Dekarios born (1457)

Enver Flymm sold to Raphael by his parents, renamed Gortash

Gortash learns about Crown of Karsus while a prisoner of Raphael

Karlach Cliffgate born

1460s

Gortash escapes the House of Hope

Gale Dekarios summons Tara the Tressym (1467)

Wyll Ravengard born (1468)

1470s

Lae’zel of K’liir born (1470)

Gortash in his Heapside Reavers period

Gortash rebrands as a black market arms dealer

Orin the Red born to Helena and Sarevok Anchev

Durge begins their serial killing spree in Baldur’s Gate (1477)

The Emperor dominates Duke Belynne Stelmane (1479)

1480s

Elminster resurrects Mystra (1480)

Gortash trades Karlach to Zariel for infernal machines & iron (1482)

Baldur’s Gate’s Beloved Ranger statue goes missing (1482)

Duke Abdel Adrian murdered during Returning Day speech (1482) - Bhaal resurrected - Ulder Ravengard replaces Adrian as Marshall and as Duke

Orin kills her mother Helena in self-defense

Gortash recruits Franc Peartree to distribute infernal iron weapons

Gortash establishes a cult of Bane in Baldur’s Gate

Gortash approaches Durge about an alliance

Gortash moves against the Zhentarim & Knights of the Shield

Ulder Ravengard named Grand Duke

Wyll Ravengard pact with Mizora, leaves Baldur’s Gate (1485)

Dead Three made aware of the Crown of Karsus (most likely informed by Gortash)* - Gortash becomes Bane’s Chosen - Durge becomes Bhaal’s chosen - Gortash & Durge are instructed to recruit Ketheric

Gortash tells Durge about Crown of Karsus (via correspondence)

Hall/House of Wonders test mission* - Durge gets Bhaalist memorabilia - Gortash gets a bunch of Gondian designs - Durge & Gortash get companionship

1490s

The Chosen visit Ketheric at Moonrise, learn about Illithid colony

Gortash & Durge visit the House of Hope (for intel on Mephistar?)

Gortash & Durge raid Mephistar - They get the Crown of Karsus - They get the book on the accelerated grand design

Gortash captures the Emperor

Gortash & Durge return to Moonrise - Their identities are kept secret from Ketheric’s people - Durge impresses the Moonrise Gnolls, but not Steelclaw - Ketheric yells at Durge in the throne room for an unknown reason

Durge proposes their plan to the Elder Brain who accepts

Raid on the illithid colony (1491) - Durge puts the Crown on the Elder Brain - Orin gets Durge alone during the raid & stabs them in the head - Orin tadpoles Durge, making them the first True Soul - Orin declares herself the Chosen of Bhaal

1492

Durge is found by Kressa Bonedaughter

Minsc captured by Absolutists at a recruitment rally in the Undercity

Gortash gets weird and intense with unethical experiments - Some futzing to get the tadpoles to consistently remain in stasis - This is when the name ‘True Souls’ gets coined - Extremely questionable fun with brains - Getting the Absolute’s voice sorted out - Tadpoling his parents - Poorly conceived experiments on children & their parents

Gortash has Iron Throne converted to hold hostages

Gortash presents prototype Steel Watcher to the city council

Jaheira tracks cult to shadow-cursed land, meets Isobel

Minthara Baenre is 'recruited' by Orin and Ketheric

The Descent, Elturel fall into Avernus happens

Duke Vanthampur revealed as a diabolist, killed by adventurers

Guild Bursar Uktar launders money for Gortash’s Campaign funds

Isobel is resurrected by the Dead Three

The Elder Brain sends the Chosen dreams about the Astral Prism

Gortash researches the Prism, finds out that Vlaakith has it

Gortash tasks Ketheric with sending a team to get the Astral Prism - They send a nautiloid piloted by the Emperor and other illithid - The Elder Brain lets the Emperor slip its leash - Magthew Budj arranges for Durge to be on the nautiloid as well

Gortash deploys Steel Watch in Lower/Outer City

At this point Elturel is no longer in Avernus

First Druid Halsin captured by goblins

Nautiloid picks up Shadowheart & the Prism from Astral Plane

Nautiloid picks up Lae’zel

Nautiloid goes to Baldur’s Gate, picks up Gale & Astarion

Nautiloid goes to Avernus, picks up Karlach & Wyll

Nautiloid crashes, (20 Eleasis, 1492)

Some helpful links:

A page from Sarevok’s book: Sarevok - (Murder tribunal)

Accelerated Grand Design: Gortash - (Gortash's Office)

An Offer: Gortash - (Peartree basement)

Aquatic Labor: Gortash - (Flymm’s Cargo Basement)

Baldur’s Gate Temple of Bhaal: Yanthus - (Gortash’s Office)

Balthazar’s Notes: Balthazar - (Necrotic laboratory)

Clasped Book: Balthazar - (Balthazar’s chambers)

Devil’s Fee Observer’s Report**: Himberloo - (Nine-Fingers’ office)

Elder Brain Domination: Ketheric/Yanthus - (Ketheric’s Room)

Enhanced Weapons - Sales Ledger: Peartree - (Peartree basement)

Experiment on Cruor: Orin - (Temple of Bhaal)

How To Build a Watcher: deceased Gondian - (Steel Watch foundry)

Journal of Enver Gortash: Gortash - (Gortash’s Office)

Magical Histories: Volume 2: The Spellplague: unknown - (Sorcerous Sundries)

Memoir Notes with Recent Addenda: Gortash - (Gortash’s office)

Missive from Gortash: Gortash - (Ketheric’s room)

Missive from Ketheric: Ketheric - (Moonrise, 2nd floor)

Mistress of Souls’ Research Log: Kressa - (Mind flayer barracks)

My Gratitude: Gortash - To Peartree (Peartree basement)

Next Steps: Gortash - (Gortash’s office)

Prayer for Forgiveness: Durge - (Necrotic laboratory)

Scrapbook of Letters: Gortash/Durge - (Flymm’s Cobblers)

Special Operations - Infernal Arms: Uktar -

Studies of the Elder Brains: Gortash/Yanthus - (Gortash’s Office)

Suspended Ceremorphosis: Gortash/Yanthus - (Tadpoling center)

Test Mission with Gortash: Durge - (Temple of Bhaal)

The Astral Prism Heist: Gortash - (Gortash’s office)

The Dukes of Baldur’s Gate: unknown - (Baldur’s Mouth/Peartree’s house)

The Grand Design: Gortash/Yanthus - (Mind flayer colony)

The True Life of ‘Lord’ Gortash: a skeleton - (Wyrm’s Rock Prison)

The Ultimate State: Gortash - (Gortash’s office/Flymm’s Cobblers)

*an in-game contradiction between Gortash and Durge. See: ‘Test Mission with Gortash’ and ‘Memoir Notes with Recent Addenda’. I’ve placed it after, but there’s also a legitimate argument to be made that Gortash and Durge met and became allies much earlier, possibly around the same time as Gortash’s betrayal of Karlach

Additionally, the House of Wonders (church/workshop) and the Hall of Wonders (museum) are two different buildings in the Upper City. Durge writes that the Hall is their target, while Gortash writes that the House is their target. It is my opinion that they hit both locations.

**no link cuz the bg3.wiki doesn’t have it??

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commander-krios · 7 months

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Everything

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Rolan/Dammon Rating: Teen Summary: Rolan's had little time to himself since becoming the Master of Ramazith's Tower. Thankfully, he has friends willing to help him get a break. Words: 3924 Additional Tags: Gift Exchange, Tieflings, Romance, Love, Valentine's Day, Fluff, Post-Canon

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Elturel Tiefling Camp Discord Server Exchange treat for a few Dammon/Rolan lovers!

Rolan had begun taking his midafternoon meal breaks at the Elfsong Tavern, away from the bustle of Sorcerous Sundries. The first reason being it was quieter in the tavern during that time of the day, the majority of the inn’s guests sleeping off their nightly overindulgences while the rest made day trips into the city. The second reason was it made it more difficult for Cal to seek him out with questions about the mundane things, those things that could’ve waited the hour he took to eat and catch up on some reading. This was easier, simpler, and he could sit and ponder his own thoughts before trudging back to some disaster or another at the store.

When someone slipped into the unoccupied chair at his table, however, he was beginning to think that the Gods themselves were plotting against him.

“You look bored.”

Lakrissa watched him with a grin, pushing a glass of wine towards him. He eyed the drink suspiciously before glancing up at her, taking in the perfectly groomed ponytail that tumbled over her right shoulder, her chin propped in her hand, elbow on the table in an undisciplined manner.

“I didn’t order that.” Rolan said instead, ignoring her probing gaze to bury his nose in the book again. She didn’t take the hint, only nudged the glass closer to him. It was a bribe, he realized. For what, he had no idea. “What do you want, Lakrissa?”

She raised her eyebrows before a laugh escaped her lips. “Want? There’s nothing I want from you, mage-boy.”

“Then why-”

“Think of it as a thank you.” She reached into the little pouch on her side, pulling out a scroll, setting it on the table between them.

Rolan stared at it, immediately recognizing the fancy calligraphy and stamp on the document. Swallowing nervously, he lifted the glass and drank deeply, refusing to be baited into the conversation. She had no proof it was him. The silence between them was tense, but when he finally returned the half finished wine to the table, he cleared his throat, glancing away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not stupid. You’re one of the only people who knew about the bard school. I figured it would be denied. Anti-tiefling sentiment is still high after all of this time, especially so soon after Elturel.” Lakrissa returned the scroll to her bag and replaced it with a hastily scribbled letter. Rolan knew Wyll Ravengard’s handwriting mainly from their recent correspondence. There was no mistaking it. “Wyll said you made a convincing argument about opening a school in a letter. His father approved it because of you.”

“I-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Rolan.” Lakrissa told him, securing the letter with the scroll once more. “You owed us nothing, but you helped anyway. So thank you.”

Rolan blushed, fingers trailing over the page of the tome in front of him. He liked Lakrissa, she was one of the only people who saw the reality of their situation from the start. Elturel, goblins, the shadow-cursed lands… and she continued on despite it all. Perhaps because of it all. Rolan had only made everyone’s lives more difficult with his ranting. But they’d still traveled with him and now he had the means to help everyone. He intended to use it.

But one thing he wasn’t expecting was sincere gratitude.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his claws got caught in the strands of the hair loosened from his bun. “Uh, don’t mention it. Please, don’t tell anyone.”

At the pleading in his voice, Lakrissa grinned like a cat who caught the canary. Uh oh. “Oh, I won’t tell anybody. For a price.”

A groan slipped out and he buried his face in his hands. “Hells, what is it now?”

Lakrissa laughed, pouring another glass of Arabellan Dry. Then he watched through his fingers as she stood, tucking the chair back beneath the table. She glanced down at him thoughtfully, as if trying to best articulate what she wished to say. Or maybe she was trying to torture him more, he wouldn’t put that past her.

After a moment more, she sighed, waving towards the exit in the direction of Sorcerous Sundries. “Lia and Cal are worried about you.”

That was unexpected.

“Whatever for?” His hands dropped to the table and he had to resist the urge to grab the wine glass as a barrier against the uncomfortable thoughts that spun at the back of his mind. Worried? About him? All he ever did was worry about them, and now, they had everything they could’ve dreamed for. What was there to worry about?

“When was the last time you went out?”

Scrunching his nose in confusion, Rolan waved to their surroundings sarcastically. “What do you call this?”

“Hiding.”

He scoffed in offense, but didn’t deny it. Because it was true in a way. He was hiding, mostly from Cal’s questions about the Sundries. “I was busy doing work before you so rudely interrupted me.”

“Oh, so rude of me to bring you wine.”

He rolled his eyes, noting her sarcasm but refusing to argue about something so stupid. She was being unusually nice today, but he figured she was as bored as he was, sitting here in the quiet tavern. If she wished to speak to him about something to alleviate that boredom, he’d gladly discuss wine, the latest novel, hells even the Gazette’s more recent gossip, but his personal life was not one of those things.

“How about this then?” She lifted the glass of wine and took a deep drink of it herself. Must’ve been a really slow day. “When was the last time you went out with Dammon?”

His blush deepened at the mention of the man who was… well, not quite his boyfriend, but something close enough. Digging his claws into the wood of the table, he caught the satisfied expression on Lakrissa’s face. She’d gotten under his skin and she knew it. “That’s none of your business.”

She let out a snort, refilling the wine one final time before setting it directly in front of him.

“Don’t you fret, mage-boy. Since you refuse to admit to doing something nice and taking the ‘thank you’ that comes with it, I’m going to find a way to thank you that you can’t refuse.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?”

“Think of it as a promise.” Ruffling his hair like he was one of the tiefling children, Lakrissa laughed when he reached up to knock her hands away in irritation. “And try to be less grumpy, Rolan. As much as it pains me to admit, you’re actually cute when you smile.”

Lakrissa waved before swiping the rest of the wine bottle from the table, leaving with his wild thoughts and burning cheeks. With one final look at the full wine glass beside his book, he pushed his chair back and made a quick exit, intending to put as much distance between him and the Elfsong as possible.

~~~~

“Alfira was here earlier.”

The next day immediately started off on the wrong foot. From the moment he’d woken up, a mischievous specter followed him, creating chaos everywhere he went. First, the lava elemental broke free of its compulsion, wandering outside and nearly setting a house on fire. Then, his projection started malfunctioning, and he had to stand at the desk for hours before Cal came down to relieve him. He’d also had to toss a few troublemaking kids out of the store for trying to steal one of Tolna’s books as a prank.

Gods, he still had a headache from the tongue lashing he’d gotten after.

And now he had to deal with this? It appeared Lakrissa wasn’t simply teasing him, after all.

Rolan glanced up from his accounting books, furrowing his brow at Cal’s words. There were very few reasons as to why the bard would show up at his store and he figured they all had to do with her girlfriend’s threat. “And? Did she say why she was here?”

“Yes.” Cal sauntered over to his desk before dropping a sealed envelope on top of his paperwork. “She left this.”

Rolan stared at the flowery pink paper envelope in concern. “And what is that?”

“Maybe you should open it and read it. It’s addressed to the ‘Master of the Tower’.” Cal sat beside the desk, putting his feet up on the edge. With a glare aimed in his brother’s direction, it only took a moment for Cal to get the hint and drop his feet back to the ground, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry.”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb. “I’m sure you already know what it says so please, enlighten me.”

Cal nodded, sitting up straighter and smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. “They’re throwing a party. For the bard school’s opening. Alfira said it would be a huge favor to her if you came.”

Of course she did. It’d been weeks since he’d done much else besides sit at this desk and update the ledgers for the store: the vault inventory, the supply inventory, the accounting. Lorroakan hadn’t kept any sort of organization for the entirety of his time as Master of the Tower. Rolan didn’t even know if he turned a profit or steadily lost money.

“I have so much left to do-”

“Come on, Rolan. You helped them get the deed to the building. The least you can do is show up and celebrate with them.” Cal dropped his voice, his expression softening significantly. “You should go, have some fun.”

“Does everyone know about that?” Rolan sighed, feeling the fight leave him at Cal’s grin. He never did things for himself, but Cal and Lia… if it meant that much to them, he’d do it even if he hated every second. “Fine. But the moment somebody decides that I need to give a toast because I helped, I’m leaving.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. No one is willing to stroke your ego. It’s big enough as it is.”

Rolan coughed to cover the laugh that threatened to expose him. “I think you need to spend time with someone who isn’t Lia.”

“You’re just mad because she’s right.”

Ignoring the barb, Rolan realized he hadn’t seen his sister all week. She hadn’t lived in the Tower for a few months now. The Flaming Fist barracks were comfortable enough and Lia refused to spend every quiet moment with her brothers (or so she said), but she at least visited on occasion. Strange.

“Where is Lia, anyway?”

“Oh, uh…” Cal rubbed the back of his neck and averted his eyes to the floor, pretending to study the intricate tiles. Rolan didn’t need to spell detect thoughts to know that his brother was running through a hundred different excuses for their sister, before choosing what was most believable. Whatever was next out of his mouth was going to be a lie. “She’s… working?”

“Are you asking me or is that your answer?” Rolan tapped his feather pen against the envelope, tempted to open it to see the words for himself. “Because last I remember, Lia works the overnight shift.”

“She’s picked up some extra work.” Cal rushed to explain, standing as if that would stop the interrogation. “Alfira mentioned Dammon would be there. If that changes things.”

“Oh?” He tried not to sound interested, but gods dammit, it’d been too long since they’d seen each other. Maybe a public appearance among drunken bards wouldn’t be as awful as he thought. If he managed to avoid the singing. “I might be able to squeeze in a quick word with everyone.”

He almost missed the smile on Cal’s face as he slipped out of the door. “Whatever you say, Rolan.”

~~~~

The Elfsong Tavern was in chaos when he set foot inside. Drinks were poured freely, multiple bards were singing off key between hiccups, and others were guffawing and cheering along with the song. Or perhaps it was songs. None of the tunes were the same. Rolan spied Lakrissa near the bar, a glass of wine in each hand. She weaved through the crowd, a bright smile on her face as she watched the revelry. It was all a bit much for him, but he’d promised Lia that he’d make an effort to connect with the rest of the Elturel survivors.

He could do this.

“Rolan!”

He turned as Alfira appeared at his side, and without warning, she threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly against her smaller form. Using her lute must’ve given her a set of strong biceps because for a brief moment, Rolan struggled for air.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you!”

She smelled suspiciously like a fruity wine and when she glanced up at him, Rolan immediately noticed her flushed cheeks. “Already drunk, hmm?”

Alfira giggled, nudging his arm as soon as she released her hold on him. “No, silly. I’m having fun. You do know what that is, correct?”

Lakrissa slid up next to them, holding out one of the glasses of wine towards him expectantly. When he only stared back, she raised an eyebrow before thrusting it into his hand. “Take it, dumbass.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“It’s your favorite.” Lakrissa said, handing the second glass to Alfira who took it happily. He slanted his eyes at her, immediately suspicious. “Drink up. Enjoy yourself. There are plenty of drinks to go around.”

He briefly considered asking her what her ploy was. She was definitely up to something, but decided an argument was a worse choice than simply drinking the wine. So, with a forced smile, he took a long sip, waiting for the inevitable hammer fall.

Rolan wanted to leave, these types of events always made him anxious about performing well enough to be considered ‘polite and stimulating company’, but this was their party and celebration. Even if he didn’t particularly enjoy being around all of these people, it wouldn’t be proper for him to rush off. The wine hit his tongue with its familiar woodsy flavor, the berry lingering as he swallowed it down. Lakrissa watched him intently, her mouth twitching into a smirk as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“If the crowd is a bit much, there are some fabulous views from the roof.”

“Why would I-”

Slipping her arm around Alfira’s waist, she turned back to the party, glancing over her shoulder at him with a conspiratorial look. “You can thank me later.”

Once Alfira and Lakrissa blended into the crowd, the sudden desire to flee tickled his mind. It would be so easy to disappear, to return to the Tower and forget this entire night happened. He figured no one would even notice, too drunk and invested in the party to realize that a guest was missing.

But he hadn’t seen Dammon yet.

And despite everything he’d thought earlier, he really did want to see him tonight.

The best course of action would be to go to the rooftop where it would luckily be quieter and wait until Dammon either appeared or he didn’t. Then, he could slink off into the night with no one the wiser.

~~~~

The roof of the Elfsong was much quieter, though the rumble of the party could be heard beneath his feet. With a quick sweep of his gaze, he noted the cushions set up beneath a pergola and a small table with chairs off to the side. The air smelled strongly of flowers: roses, lavender, and fuchsia, a tantalizing combination that helped to ease the anxiety in his chest.

He breathed deeply of the cool night air, not cold enough to need additional layers, but enough to make him shiver slightly as a breeze loosened his hair from his bun. With a disgruntled sound, he attempted to gather the hair in his hands but the wind made it impossible.

“Leave it. I like it down.”

His hands froze, the strands slipping from his fingers, and he turned, his darkvision making it easy to see what he’d missed during his first sweep of the area. A pair of piercing blue eyes ringed in gold, golden hair pulled into a bun over an undercut, and a set of familiar horns.

His breath caught at the sight. “Dammon.”

The tiefling blacksmith slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks, smiling up at him. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, the things he wore in his day to day work. No, tonight he looked comfortable in a pair of dark slacks and a loose tunic, tucked into his waistband. Simple, but effective and Rolan couldn’t stop from staring.

“Fancy seeing you at one of these parties. I didn’t think you ever left that Tower anymore.”

Rolan flushed, grateful for the darkness and the wind blowing the hair in front of his face, if only to hide his embarrassment. “Yes, well, things have been busy. Swamped, really.”

Dammon’s gaze trailed over his robes, one of the dressier ones from Facemaker’s, bought at a price that he’d balked at before Lia forced him to hand the coin over. But with how the other tiefling’s eyes flitted across his chest at the gleaming gemstones and down the length of the sleeves at the elaborate embroidering, Rolan knew it was worth it. If only to be admired by him.

“Glad you could pull yourself away.”

There was no judgment, no anger or disappointment, just Dammon being… Dammon. Kind, understanding, accepting. He turned to walk to the edge of the balcony, his face hidden in the shadows.

Rolan followed without even realizing it. They stood, side by side, so close that Rolan could feel the warmth of his skin on his own. It wouldn’t take much to reach out, take his hand, perhaps press a kiss to the inside of his wrist.

“Lia’s been helping out at the forge.” Dammon’s admission pulled him from his thoughts. The blacksmith glanced down at the street below, watching as the people milled about, laughing and drinking and singing. The party was in full swing, yet here they were standing above it all, watching the city shed inhibitions and find joy in the mundane. They were safe, they were happy, and they were free. “She’s been trying to lighten my load so we could… have this.”

“Some time to ourselves without the crushing weight of responsibility?”

Dammon chuckled, leaning an arm against the banister, eyes on a fixed point in the distance. For a man who worked with weapons most of the day, there was something so soft about him. It’d taken Rolan too long to figure out what it was. His eyes. When Dammon looked at a person, he saw many things but the first and foremost was that he saw their soul. Not the facade they put up, but who they were beneath. At one time, it scared Rolan to be seen so deeply but now… now he craved the horrifying ordeal of being known by another person.

Of being known by this man in particular.

Rolan sighed as Cal’s sudden onslaught of questions, all in regards to the running of Sorcerous Sundries, began to make more sense. “It seems Cal was trying to do the same.”

The sounds of a lute and a lyre floated out of the windows of the Elfsong and people on the streets began to spin in a dance of wild limbs and stumbling feet, too drunk to do much else besides rocking back and forth or falling. The rest of the city stretched out ahead, lights flickering against a velvety black backdrop, the stars above burning as brightly as the streetlamps.

He didn’t know what possessed him. Maybe it was the Arabellan Dry still tingling on his tongue. Perhaps it was the beautiful sounds of Alfira’s lute from below. Or it could’ve very well been the fact that his family, his friends, the people who cared about him, had done so much to give him this peace.

Rolan’s hand slipped into Dammon’s, noting how easily their fingers slotted together.

He’d always wanted somewhere to call home. For years, it had been Cal and Lia and the little family they’d built out of the ashes of their lives. But the upheaval by the descent into Avernus, the difficult road traveled to Baldur’s Gate, Lorroakan and everything with the Netherbrain… he didn’t think he’d find happiness again, only pain.

He was grateful to be completely wrong.

“What are you-”

“Shh.” Rolan tilted his head to the side, nodding to the dancers below, a smile curling his lips. “Do you hear that?”

Dammon raised his eyebrows, amusement flitting across his features. “The music? It’s kind of difficult not to.”

“And what do people do when they hear music, Dammon?”

The blacksmith rolled his eyes, but his face softened more than Rolan thought was possible. He straightened, turning towards Rolan with expectation. “Why don’t you tell me? So I don’t get it wrong?”

Butterflies went to war in his stomach, but the challenge in Dammon’s eyes was intoxicating. He was going to make him say the words. Despite his intelligence, his knack for learning and doing things his own way, Rolan struggled with the right words. But action, that was easier.

His free hand slid along Dammon’s waist, their entwined hands turned into proper position. When Dammon met his gaze again, his eyes burned like blue fire ringed in gold. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his heart pounded out like a war drum in his chest, but he managed to force a single question out before he lost his nerve.

“Dance with me?”

Dammon’s eyes widened slightly before a grin spread across his face. His hand tangled in Rolan’s loose hair, strands sliding his fingers. Then he leaned in, lips brushing softly against Rolan’s, the contact a shock but a welcome one. His mouth was warm in the cool night, and he drank him in like a man who hadn’t touched a drop of water in days. His skin burned, his heart threatened to dance right out of his damned chest, and still, it wasn’t enough.

Rolan shifted closer, wrapping both arms around Dammon’s waist, deepening the kiss with a swipe of tongues and teeth. Everywhere their bodies touched, Rolan felt like he was on fire, flames beneath his skin threatening to burn him to ash. And it would be a good way to go, he thought, as the kiss finally broke.

Because with the way Dammon was staring up at him, smiling like he was nothing more than a drunken fool, Rolan understood. What they had was important, as important as anything else in his life. And he was going to fight like hell for more nights like this.

“I thought we were supposed to be dancing.” Dammon whispered, breath ghosting against Rolan’s cheek as a laugh left his mouth.

“Do you want to?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt. “Dance, I mean.”

Dammon ran his hand through his hair again, but his gaze never slanted away. Chills ran down Rolan’s spine at the intensity of his eyes that he almost didn’t hear the words. “It was your idea, but I like this too.” His lips brushed against Rolan’s briefly before he pulled back, nothing but tenderness on his face.

And Rolan couldn’t help but agree.

This was nice.

It was everything.

#my writing #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #bg3 lakrissa #bg3 alfira #rolan x dammon #dammon x rolan #gift exchange

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