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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK FOUR: THE HUNT - CHAPTER 4

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Boof 4 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

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CHAPTER FOUR: KESLA

Darwyn’s small enough Shay can carry her in cradled in the crook of one arm while she’s holding Ashsong’s sword low and wary in her other hand, not convinced we’re safe even though the young guard clearly looked human. The halfling’s in a hell of a lot o’ pain, wincing with every jog even though the half-orc’s definitely moving careful to make the ride smooth as possible for her, but ‘least she ain’t passing out instead. It’s a better sign, at least. But that wound … I seen ones like it before, and she’s in a bad way.

I lead the way through the doorway, crouching low with my own sword gripped tight in both hands, cuz I ain’t taking any more chances than my friend, even if I did recognise the girl. I just saw those nightmares ooze outta a near dead kid just outside this room, and it was only Krakka’s quick thinking made sure we didn’t all suffer the same fate as every other poor bastard we found so far in this place. Suddenly meeting a healthy live one in here don’t put me much at ease. I’m paranoid as hell right now, but that don’t mean I don’t have cause.

Leaning my shoulder to the door, I give it a gentle push to open it out the rest o’ the way, then step into the room beyond. It’s darker in here than it was outside, but I realise now that having Lady Naru’s fancy lights right now might actually have made us walk right on by without noticing candles burning under the door as we passed. Yes might’ve picked up on the new scents in time, but given the pervading stink of death in here that even I can’t miss I wouldn’t wanna place money on the outcome o’ that bet.

There’s a few individual candles burning round the room, but by and large it’s barely enough to pick much of anything out right now. Most of the illumination now we’re bringing in with us, my own sword in particular lighting things up a whole lot more, so as I step inside I just start to pick up on exactly what’s going on here. And where I actually am.

When I was a kid, growing up in our apartments over the training barracks in Tabaphic, I had my own room, and it was nice enough, I guess, but I was never really the homiest person if I’m honest. I spent so much o’ my time out in the world or training under da an’ the other sergeants, my room was really little more’n just the place my bed was. Even in my adolescence, when the moodiness started to kick in and I found it harder to get up in the morning, I still mostly thought of it more as a room than mine. Truth be told, don’t reckon I really got the whole idea of girls actually having their own personal bedroom as a haven, their safe little space apart from the rest of the world, until I became more’n just friends with Janna. First time she took me into her room it was genuinely like stepping into another world.

I catch something o’ that here but it’s a hell of a lot more extravagant. Then again, we’re dealing with rich girls here, never mind they’re the Hellcat’s daughters. It’s very … rich, and a whole bunch o’ fancy too, a good deal more o’ the kinda overblown foofaraw as da would’ve called it, the kind I try not to roll my eyes at when I do deal with rich folks, particularly the women. The bed alone … fucking hell, that thing is huge, it’s big as whole bedrooms I seen other people inhabit before, actually, and there’s just so much space. There’s bloody big posts supporting a canopy over the top of it, with big, thick velvet curtains hanging round it, while the mattress is almost alarmingly high off the floor, not enough to cause a nosebleed but enough to hurt if you fell out at night. And the bedclothes … it’s all satin, I swear, smooth and soft and … bloody hell, there’s fucking lace too. And it’s just some of the lace I see decorating this place, actually.

That being said, there are enough touches scattered about to tell me this girl ain’t entirely devoid of her mother’s martial character, even if I hadn’t already gotten a suggestion last time I met her. Instead o’ toys or whatever else I might expect a small child like Mara to prize, I see weapons hanging on racks or set on the vanity table in the back of the room alongside much more feminine accoutrements, which instantly mark this as Pela’s room. Certainly there’s no way I’d ever expect to find Thura standing a room like this for herself.

“Who’s there?” A very familiar voice breathes with fragile hope from just past the bed, and I see now that someone else is peeking up from behind a fancily decorated post. It’s the tone of her voice that shakes me, I never would’ve expected it – Lady Thura Vezrim, the Hellcat of Kumehn Valley, is scared out her mind right now. “Who …”

As her words peter out she squints in the relative gloom, although I suspect it might be more to do with the glowing blade I’m now moving to hold out to my side to redirect the light some. Then I notice her looking me over, some strange, oddly wistful kind of recognition in her eyes as she takes me in, and I’m bloody slow remembering I’m wearing da’s armour, right down to my own specially commissioned new helm.

Kesla, you fucking moron. You look just like a Rundao Regular right now. Poor woman prob’ly reckons she’s seeing a ghost.

“What … are you … who is that?”

“Shit!” I hiss under my breath, and before I even realise what I’m doing I stab Hefdred down so it pierces a good six inches into the floor like the boards are made of soft cheese, sticking up so I can let go. Only now realising I just jammed my sword through the carpet of her daughter’s bedroom, I’m already dragging my helmet off as I spit out a rather muddled: “Oh fuck … I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to –" while turning her way again.

But her eyes just widen as she must recognise me, ‘spite of my greased hair and the black strip painted across my eyes, and there’s the slightest touch of a smile that reaches her lips now. Fragile hope, kindled a little more brightly in her now. “Oh, wait … Mistress Shoon? Kesla! You’re here! But … oh, I’m a fool … of course, Sulin said you were coming for us …”

Her voice is breaking a little now, and I realise she’s crying, has clearly been crying for a while now, looks like, given how ruddy her cheeks have gotten, and the redness of her eyes. For a moment I’m reminded of when she started to weep when we met her in her office, remembering her men, in the Valley, but even so … no, this is just wrong, it’s so strange, the Hellcat crying like some small, scared child. I can’t fathom it at all.

Hooking my helmet onto my belt, I straighten up a bit as I yank my sword free again and take a few more steps into the room, looking round now. “Yeah, well … I mean ‘course we came. Are you okay? What’s –”

“Help me … oh gods please help me, Kesla …” Her breath’s hitching badly now as her voice cracks entirely, finally just dropping to her knees outta my sight, and I’m spurred on to follow her quicker now seeing it. Even though I’m almost scared of what I might find …

Thura ain’t so much ducked back down as simply collapsed onto her side behind the bed, and as I come round I finally see why. Okay, Mara’s all right, and Pela too, at least, the elder daughter hugging the younger tightly to her, while their younger brother Thadeon sits by with a deeply haunted look on his face, not really seeming to see anything right now. There’s a lot of blood on him, I see, but it’s clear it’s not his, most likely it came from some poor bastard who died protecting him whenever it was he was clearly traumatized.

Most likely it’s his brother’s, I realise now. Thura’s eldest child, Deriel Vezrim, virtually a man already but still so fucking young all the same, too young for this … Thura’s not really tending to him, mostly she’s just slumped at his side while she just holds onto his one remaining arm, gripping tight enough for her fingers to dig right in as she’s really starting to lose her fight to stop herself from just shattering right here. The young guard, stood by waiting now, whose name I now realise I never caught, is watching me like she’s almost pleading with her eyes for me to help him, but even as I look down at the boy I realise any care that could be offered likely won’t do any good by this point. His eyes are glassy, pupils wide, empty now as they just stare up at the ceiling, unblinking.

Gods … he was laid right open. Poor kid, clearly he barely had time to throw on a simple pair of britches over his nightshirt and grab his sword, so he was entirely unarmoured when … whatever happened to him. Then again, given what we’ve already seen, it’s not hard to work out. I suspect he did exactly what the son of Thura Vezrim would have done when his little brother was threatened, bearing the brunt of the horrible attack instead. I just hope he was dead before he even knew it had happened …

“Oh fuck …” I barely manage to breath it, both my arms going limp as I just slump into myself standing over ‘em all now, the weight of sudden, unbearable sorrow settling on me like hot lead.

“What is it?” Shay’s at my side now, I realise, her own blade bringing a little more illumination, and this just lights the whole awful scene up brighter. “Are they … shit. Oh my … oh fuck no … oh, Kesla, I’m so …” Her voice falters at that, but I still sort of feel her reaching up to grip my shoulder the best she can, the effect still largely lost with my pauldron.

Finally Thura just gives up trying to compose herself and just starts openly bawling, finally shattering as her grief just takes over. She’s realised as well as I have her son’s gone, maybe just while she was begging me for help, and her heart is breaking sure as her composure now.

When I try to take a breath I find it hitching a little too, my throat suddenly very thick, and I turn to look back towards the door, finding the others flooding in behind us now. Art’s already on his knees next to Darwyn, working to get her out of her now damaged armour as Yeslee’s settling on her other side, fishing through her modest field kit for anything she might use to patch her up. Krakka, meanwhile is almost entirely doubled over on his knees, hugging Bloodmoon while his glassy eyes really don’t seem much more focused than Deriel’s now. Fuck … even before I step forward to ask after him I know my plea’s gonna be pointless. “Fuck … is he … Krakka, are you with me? We need you right now –”

“It’s no good, Kesla.” Lady Naru’s dropping to one knee beside him now, hanging onto her staff while her free hand settles on his shoulder, but she looks up at me, solemn and contrite. “He’s burned himself out. We would be lucky to have him back on his feet by morning, certainly not anytime sooner. There’s nothing he can do.”

“No, I can …” He blinks as he tries to straighten up, but barely even manages to raise his hand off his hammer, his head still hanging while he completely fails to gain any more focus. “I can … you need … fuck …” Lady Naru doesn’t even need to try and hold him down, he’s so weak. Fuck … damn it, Krakka, why’d you have to be so effective getting us out of that mess? Now we’re stuck …

Taking a very clumsy step back, I don’t so much turn back as simply stumble round in a clumsy swing, and I guess it’s a miracle I’m still managing to hold onto my sword at all as I just sway along automatically now. I’m … fuck, the fact I can’t help Thura when she needs me the most, that’s … even though we’re here now I feel like a failure seeing this. I barely even realise I’m doing it as I push past Shay and stab Hefdred back into the floor before dropping to my own knees, very noisily I sort of realise but there’s nothing I can do now. Pela flinches at the metallic clanking and hugs her sister a little tighter, but there’s no reproach in her wet eyes as she watches me look over her brother and mother.

Finally I reach out, leaning forward as much as I can with careful gentleness to touch Thura’s shoulder, warily hesitant as I try hard not to spook her. Even so, when my heavy, gauntleted hand settles she stiffen instantly, a little sob escaping her as she jumps, and I freeze too, instantly regretting my action but knowing I gotta keep going all the same. So I lean in a little more and take another shaky breath, very carefully choosing my words now as I speak: “Thura? I … I’m sorry … we can’t … there’s nothing we can do … for Deriel, I mean … Krakka’s outta power …”

Slowly she raises her head, still sobbing, and I can tell she’s trying to get herself under control again, but it’s not working any better than before. When she finally looks up at me her face is enough to break my heart all over again, I’ve never seen grief quite like it before. There’s anger in there too, hot and fierce, but mostly it’s just pure, broken, jet black sorrow. I remember her telling me about how she lost her husband, the way he went, it was so ugly and unfair, and it’s clear to me now that she knows as well as I do that this is even worse, how her son’s gone before he even had a chance to really live.

“Kesla … what the fuck is going on … what are they … they took him … my boy … Deri … they took my boy … MY BOY …” The rest of her words disintegrate into a formless howl of pure anguish and she just falls into my arms as I lunge forward to catch her, pulling her close and hugging her as tight to me as I dare given how heavily armoured I am. I want to comfort her so badly but I’m painfully mindful that I’m covered virtually head to foot in hard, unyielding tempered steel …

In the end it don’t matter, she clings to me sure as if she’s drowning and I’m a pylon at the end of a dock. So I give up trying to be gentle and just crush her tight as I think I can get away with, and just hold her while she vents and rages and screams. And the whole time I’m unable to take my eyes off Deriel’s lifeless body as the guard crouches beside him and gently closes his eyes and lays his arms over his chest, finally reaching over to drag one of the quilts off the bed to snap it out the best she can to cover him. She’s crying hard too, I realise. Looks like this family means as much to her as it does to me. But at least she actually got to know them.

I’m crying myself now, I can’t help it, but at least I manage to hold onto myself enough that it’s just hot tears and a little hitch in my breathing, no sobs. I gotta be the strong one right now, even though I’m hating it.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to her, my voice low and soothing as I can keep it with the hitching of my own breath, and rock her gently. “I’m so sorry, Thura. I’m so, so very sorry. There’s … fuck … there’s no words, I … I’m sorry …”

There’s no telling how long we stay like this. I suspect it probably ain’t more’n a matter o’ minutes, but it seems to be hours to me. She quiets by increments, not so much calming as just wearing herself out, the grief exhausting her as her wailing gives way to sobbing to shuddering and sniffing and low, keening moans. Finally she just slumps in my arms, becoming soft and limp and helpless while she just breathes into my shoulder, still hitching and shuddering all the way, but largely spent now. I tighten my grip a little more, keeping the crush gentle but hesitant, and take a breath of my own. It’s more than a little relieving that it comes in smooth this time …

So when I look up, turning my head enough I can take in what’s going on across the room again, I see the others still fussing over Darwyn, who’s been largely stripped of her leather now, a lot of bandages wrapping her shoulder, arm and much of her chest. She looks very unhappy, and I don’t blame her at all for that, even while I was tending to Thura I couldn’t miss the cries and whimpers behind me. She’s looking clearer than before, at least, but even paler too, wan and weak now. Art’s got her swaddled in his arms now as he sits behind her, while Yes finally rocks back in her heels, looking up with a particularly deep frown. She looks right at me now, almost on cue, and while it’s subtle her expression says everything it has to.

“That bad, huh?”

“If we don’t get her to a healer soon she’s going to die.” She shoots a cautious look to Art, whose own eyes perceptibly widen at that, then Darwyn hisses as he hugs her a little tighter without really meaning to. “We have to go. Now.”

Thura must have caught that, I feel her shift in my arms now. It’s still weak, and clumsy, but she’s with it enough all the same. I relax my grip a little as I subtly shift my position, making a little room for her to push herself up if she chooses, but for a few moments at least she don’t move again. “Um … Thura? I’m sorry, but … um … we need you to be with us now …”

“Oh …” It’s less of a moan than a grunt really, and when she starts to push against me now it’s with more strength, so I just let her, shifting back myself to let her now. Finally she reaches up and starts working her fingers up across the front of my armour, clumsily questing for the top of my cuirass. After a moment I just reach up and take hold of her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, and now she looks up.

She’s … fuck, her face is a ruin, it’s flushed red and angry but streaked through the dirt where her tears have run, eyes raw and bleary and fighting for focus now, while her lip’s still wobbling even though her own breath is evening out a little more. Mostly she just looks haunted now, and I’m scared she ain’t even there enough to answer me.

“I …” Honestly, I ain’t got the first clue what to say now, my words have just completely dried up. Then she reaches up with her hand and grabs hold of my pauldron, dragging herself a little closer, and now I might be the only thing holding her up. “Thura, I …”

“What …” she croaks now, and her voice … fuck, she’s screamed herself hoarse. “What’s happening … how did … who did this …”

“Vandryss.” Lady Naru surprises me, seemingly to sweep in out of nowhere now with her little globe of light still hovering above her as she crouches at my side with her usual unfathomable graceful ease. She looks solemn but … still so composed all the same, even while her tone is as gentle as I’m trying to keep mine. “We believe it must be Vandryss. They’re making their move, it seems.”

“But …” Thura blinks up at her now, still struggling to focus, I see. “But why … how did she even know …”

Lady Naru’s eyes flicker to mine now, and there’s that worry again, deep down. She licks her lips before answering, seeming to be working hard to choose her words very carefully. “Darion … they must have broken him. He … he’s been compromised.”

It’s a long beat before Thura can answer, her brow furrowing deep as she looks back to me, then to Naru again, then down, just searching randomly now. Finally she mutters something low under her breath I can’t make out, before finally looking up at her friend again. “But … but how? He would never … I know him, he … no, it’s not possible –"

“They have Gael.” The words are out before I can help it, and I look down now, unable to face her. “His … Darion’s child. Our friend. They took ‘em when … it was a mess, and mistakes were made and …” Fuck. Honestly, I don’t know how I can make it sound any better than the shitshow it already is, now it’s made things so much worse.

Thura slips free from my armour with that first hand, and I have to look up as she drags me somewhat to the side as she reaches out for Lady Naru now, vaguely grasping like she still can’t quite make her out. “Oh … Sulin, I’m … I’m sorry …”

Naru takes hold of the proffered hand in both of hers, and I can see her face breaking a little now, her composure slipping. When she looks down she breathes a heavy sigh, her voice seeming thicker as she breathes: “We’ll get them back. I swear it. I will … I won’t rest until … until …”

“Got to go.” For a long beat I can’t identify the voice that rasps that loud little croak from the far side of the room, I’m so focused here now. Then I look up, and I see Brung’s moved into the room too, coming towards us, but being real cautious about it now. As he clears the bed and comes into view of the family I see how uncomfortable he is now, real reluctance in him, and he’s looking down as he steps very deliberately. “Something … can’t explain.”

First I actually realise others have seen him is the sharp intake of breath and the sudden flurry of movement as the guard starts fumbling for the sword hung at her hip. I reach out my hand quick as I can to check her, hissing a warning, but even so she’s already cleared a foot of steel before Lady Naru finally pipes in: “Uhra, it’s all right. He’s with us. Brung’s a friend.”

The young woman checks herself at that, at least, but even so she don’t relent yet, looking the goblin over for a long beat before finally letting her sword settle back in its scabbard. She stands ready too, still fiercely tense as she watches the little merc close. “Okay … if you insist, my lady, but …”

The children are looking him over with wide eyes too, I see, but then they likely never seen a real live goblin before in their lives. I wonder now what kinds of stories they actually been brought up on regarding ‘em, if they been filled with the same kind o’ cold, bone-deep prejudice as most o’ the big society types I met. Somehow … I dunno, I can’t imagine it, not with Thura. Not after how I’ve gotten to know her.

That said, this is all clearly too much for them right now, one more startling development on top of so much bad that’s already been piled on them this night … so I finally let go of Thura, who releases her own hold as I start to push back up onto my haunches, instead grabbing hold of Lady Naru, who wraps her up in her own close embrace. I’m already turning to the new arrival as I don’t bother standing up, instead just shifting my feet so I can face him while staying in my crouch. Keeping very much on his level now. “What is it?”

“Can’t explain.” He cocks his head towards the door, his eyes never leaving mine. “Easier to show. Quick.”

Frowning, I look back at Naru and Thura, who are still locked in their awkward hug, the sorcerer rocking the former warrior gently while she just stares at nothing in particular, more haunted than ever now. “Just wait. I’ll be back.”

Not waiting for a reply, I push myself up, already starting to move before I’ve straightened, and I’m even more careless yanking Hefdred free than I was planting it in the first place. Brung’s words are already gnawing at me, I really don’t have time for a mystery right now.

He leads me to the door, and Yeslee’s already stepping up as I pass, plucking her bow off the floor and falling into step with me without hesitation while giving me a particularly cool, sidelong look down. Sensing my own mood, I’m sure. I don’t say anything, just letting her make up her own mind about what we’re about now.

Shay’s already waiting for us, holding her own glowing sword off to the side and, now I’m actually paying attention, very much inside the room, so that, especially with the door barely open more’n a crack, it don’t really shine much light out into the corridor. She’s looking out into the darkness without, and even as I approach I can almost feel the tension coming off her. Something’s really rubbing her the wrong way.

I’ll admit, for a beat I’m struck enough by Shay’s sword to be a tad distracted. Given the blade’s strangely crystalline-seeming structure, the glow of the god-light in it seems to manifest in a different way to our steel. It almost seems to shift and ripple, subtly pulsing in lazy waves from hilt to point, while the blade itself seems almost hollow beneath it. It’s uncanny and quite beautiful, but in a slightly unnerving kind of way.

Brung stops a little short, and I pause with him, leaning somewhat now so I can get a little closer to his level again. “What’s up?” I breath in the lowest whisper I can manage.

“Out there.” He cocks a clawed thumb towards the door, and his expression remains as unchanged as ever. “Just look.”

Frowning deeper still, I ponder for a moment before sheathing Hefdred and stepping up to Shay’s side. I notice her tense a little more as I arrive, but only for a beat, as she must register that it’s me cuz she simply takes a step back and turns towards me. She looks somewhat shook, I notice, and that just worried me too. “You need to see this.”

Opening my mouth, I almost asks her what she means, but after Brung dodged the question twice I wonder if Shay might gimme the runaround too, so instead I just step up to lean into the crack between the door and frame. Then I realise that all I can see out there is varying levels of shadow, and I genuinely have to fight the urge to curse under my breath as I step back again and start fishing in the pouch on my belt. Finding my goggles. Unwrapping ‘em, I toss the cloth to Shay with greater irritation than I’d like to show and, while she jumps to catch it slip the gear onto my head, uncomfortably mindful now that I’m getting grease on the strap from my hair. Nuts …

Even so, when I finally take a breath and step to the crack again, suddenly I can actually see into the hallway again … and it’s enough to make me forget about anything else. Fuck … yeah, she was right, this is serious …

I mean sure, it takes me a moment or two to even make sense o’ what I’m actually looking at, to begin with it just looks like … well, something just shifting and growing out there, slowly seeming to increase in size and form as it staggers around out there in the gloom. More than one something, in fact, once I start to look. At least three definite shapes out there … no, four, or maybe five, another one seems to make itself known as I start to make some kinda sense o’ what I’m seeing. But not really. It’s still bloody strange and pretty disturbing looking at this.

Pieces of the bodies out here … they’re forming new bodies. But not the same bodies, no, the corpses themselves ain’t coming back to life, or whatever it is undead things do, Krakka’s got a fancy word for it, I remember … reanimating, that’s it. No, this is something else … honestly, it’s more like something else is just taking whatever’s immediately to hand and reforming in whatever way’s most convenient in order to create something that’s simply functional. Gods know, the first thing, which seems to be the most fully put-together and is already starting to slowly lurch towards us from some way down the corridor, don’t appear immediately recognisable as any specific form of … well, I sure hesitate to call any o’ this shit life. For one thing, it’s got too many limbs, with too many … I guess they’re joints, in the loosest sense. And no immediately discernible head, ‘least not that I can immediately pick out. ‘Course it’s still forming, but …

“Fuck me …” I growl with deep unease as I pull back, slipping the goggles off careful as I can so I don’t slather the lenses in grease too. Finally I flick ‘em to Shay, who again has to scramble some to catch ‘em, and take a few big steps back away from the door, my head still reeling bad from what I seen out there.

Frowning herself at my reaction, Yes steps up where I was and has a look for herself, and pulls back almost immediately, her eyes unusually wide now. She don’t swear like I did, but still lets out a deep, uncomfortable sharp hiss that says more than enough for her own opinion. When she looks my way she bares her teeth, looking about as wild as I ever seen her. “That … that is … just wrong.”

“You ever seen anything like that before?” I almost don’t ask, but reckon I have to.

She watches me for a long beat before growling: “Fuck no.”

“Great.” I mutter, turning back to Shay, who’s bundled my goggles up again, now holding ‘em out to me to collect. She don’t look any calmer now than before, I see. Reckon she’s thinking the same thing I am, that we are in deep shit right now.

Turning back to the room at large, I find Lady Naru’s on her feet again, still stood by the bed with her staff clutched close to her in both hands in such a way she looks strikingly like Gael in this moment. Her expression seems mostly expectant, but … maybe she’s just picking up on our bad vibes.

Stuffing the bundle back into the pouch, I step up to the cluster on the floor again, looking down at Darwyn as Art cranes up at me, looking like he’s picked up on my mood too. “How is she?”

“Bad.” He’s stroking her hair, keeping it out her face as he half-cradles her. She’s looking up at me too, but her eyes are heavily lidded, and she’s clearly having trouble focusing, her face the palest I ever seen it. “I … I can’t … we gotta do something –”

“Yeah, I know. We will.” I look down at Krakka now, finding the cleric’s finally sitting up without slumping, although he’s still cradling his hammer tighter than a child. He looks pretty miserable, but ‘least it seems like he can actually see me now. “Can you move?”

“I don’t know.” His croak is particularly raw, and it don’t make me feel any better than the look he’s giving me now. “Honestly, I’m really feeling my age right now.”

“Shit.” I mutter now, more to myself really, but it still prompts a little tightening frown from him too. Instead of replying to it I simply take a breath and turn away to move back towards the bed, unhooking my helmet from my belt again as I go. I can’t help squaring my shoulders as I walk, sucking in a deeper, heavier breath now as I try to prepare myself for what I know I gotta do now.

Lady Naru steps into my path as I approach and I give her a sharp look as I look her over. “Kesla –”

“I need you to get ‘em out. Right now. D’you reckon you can port ‘em all outta here at once, or is that gonna be too much? Cuz if not I need you to get Thura and her family back to the temple right now and then come straight back for Darwyn an’ Art. And I guess Krakka too, state he’s in right now he’s no good to anyone.”

For a long moment she don’t say anything, she just looks at me, and again I get that subtle sense that she’s grown so very tired, her veneer slipping now so it’s easier to pick up on, or maybe it’s just anxiety in the situation. Finally she leans into her staff again, letting a heavy sigh go as she looks down, licking her beautiful lips. “I … can’t.”

“What … what d’you mean? You have to, there’s no time, something’s –”

“I’m sorry, Kesla, but I can’t. I don’t know what it is, exactly, but …” Shaking her head, she looks back up, and gives me a more sheepish look now. “I suspect it might be something like the effect that Driver 8 seemed to be experiencing down below. There’s something here that … I can’t really explain it, but it’s blocking me. My senses, or at least my focus. I can still see, and hear, and feel, but I don’t have a sense of place like I normally have. I need two points of focus to achieve an effective portal spell. Firstly, I need a strong sense of where I’m going, either a specific location in my own mind or someone else’s, or at least a strong enough idea that I can take a blind jump on faith and hopefully luck out of ending up inside a wall. But I also need a sense of where I am, a solid fix in time and space. And here, now … I just can’t find one. I know where I am, I’ve been here enough times, but … somehow, that familiarity has been stripped from me.” She sighs again as she must catch the scepticism in my look, and it’s a weary thing. “I know, it must sound … ludicrous, but it’s simple fact.”

For another beat I hold my tongue, searching her face for any hint that she might at least suspect she’s wrong about this, but … no, she’s the expert here, she’d know what she’s talking about. “Fuck.” I turn away, clenching my empty fist while tightening my grip on the helm in my right, and it’s all I can do not to spit right here in Pela’s bedroom. “We just can’t catch a bloody break …”

“What is it that’s –”

Turning back, I just run right over her now. “It don’t matter, we can’t stay here. It ain’t safe. I need you to get ‘em out anyway. Any way you can. You with me?”

Her frown deepens as her eyes narrow. “What are you going to do?”

“Whatever I have to.” I look down at the helmet in my hand now, the one I commissioned special from Janna, made to measure but intentionally styled close as I could get to the one my da would’ve worn back in his day. “Yeah. Whatever it takes to give you time to get out. I just need you to promise me you’ll get all of ‘em out.”

Naru looks ready to argue, but she stops herself short, finally letting another weary sigh go as she must realise I ain’t backing down. Guess she’s gotten to know me enough since we met … gods, however long ago it was now. Feels like an age, the way things have gone lately. In the end she simply nods, frowning again, and there’s a little bit of a growl to her voice as she breathes: “All right. I promise. But you have to make sure you get out as well. You have to help me find Gael, remember?”

That makes me smile, I can’t help it, and I reach up with my free hand to touch her cheek before I’ve quite realised I’m doing it. She don’t shy away from my touch, and her own more subtle smile is brief and sad but … well, it’s warm enough at least.

Nodding, I step round her now and duck down behind the bed, dropping to my knees gentle as I can at Thura’s side. She’s slumped over her son now, head on his arm, and while she don’t seem to be sobbing she still looks pretty thoroughly out of it now. I look round at the others now, seeing her elder daughter still quietly weeping while the younger’s got her head buried in her sister’s side, but Thadeon’s just watching me with quiet intensity. Seems he must’ve cried himself out now, mostly he just looks angry.

Finally I turn to the guard, who I realise is watching me with more of a cold, calculating wariness now. She’s gripping the sword at her hip now, and while I don’t feel any actual threat from her right now, I still choose my tone real careful as I speak to her. “What’s your name, if I may?”

This just makes her blink, she clearly weren’t expecting it, and for a long beat I wonder if maybe she just won’t answer anyway, and I wouldn’t blame her, she don’t know me, not really. She’s seen me twice now, and the last time barely. But finally she lets a little sigh out and licks her lips, her eyes flickering up to, I imagine, Lady Naru for a moment before returning to mine. “Uhra. Uhra Sedrun. I’m … well shit … honestly, I’m scared I might be it for our security force, now.”

“Well I’m sure you’re capable enough to serve just fine.” When I say it, her brows prick right up high, but I don’t back-peddle. Time’s too short. “I need you to help me out here. Help us all out. It’s about to get proper scary up here, and you have to get her Ladyship and her children outta here fast. There some other way down outta here, besides the stairs? Any way at all?”

“I don’t …” Uhra looks down again, frowning more thoughtful now. “The east wing was burning before, an’ with all that shit going on I doubt anybody’s had a mind to fight it, if they even are still alive … so may be half the house is on fire by now. The garden balcony probably ain’t much good now …” Her frown deepens, and she pauses for a long moment, then looks up, to Lady Naru again, I’m sure. “The library? I forgot all about the Black Helix, nobody uses it anymore. Not since … um …” She turns awkward now, her eyes going to Thura.

“Since Terth … passed. Of course.” When I look up, Naru’s stood right over me, thoughtful now, but still wistful, likely from being reminded of the death of another person she cared deeply for. “It’s probably the surest way out. I can lead the way if you think we can get past those –”

“Oh, don’t worry about them.” I let a deep sigh out as I look back down. “They’ll be plenty busy, I can promise you that.” Leaning forward, I finally reach out and lay my hand, as gently as I can, on the grieving mother’s shoulder. “Thura? I’m so sorry, but I need you with me now.”

For a long beat she don’t stir, and I think maybe she really is just broken now, that the death of her eldest child has taken the last lick of strength she had, whatever she had left over after so many years without her husband. But finally she raises her head again, slow and faltering, seeming shaky but still responding, and while she looks every bit as broken as before, there’s … focus enough, at least. “What … what’s happening?” Her voice is still little better than a rasp, but she’s all cried out now, looks like. “Are you –”

“It’s time to go. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to … I get it, I’d wanna just stay here and die, I felt the same when …” Fuck … I have to stop myself there, look down and take a deep breath, fighting the slight hitch in it as I feel my own past trauma starting to stir inside me, the old wounds pricking again. It really ain’t the time. “We’re in deep shit, Thura. You need to get your family out now. I’m sorry about Dery, but there ain’t nothing you can do for him now. You gotta look out for the rest o’ your kids now. So you gotta get up, and you gotta run. You might have to fight too. Probably have to fight.” I look her right in the eye now, deep and close as I can. “Can you?”

Blinking, Thura watches me for a long beat, then looks down at her son’s body again. Then at her daughters, and her remaining son. For a moment it seems like she might be fit to burst into tears again … then she sets her jaw, bearing her teeth a little, and with the subtlest frown her face hardens. Oh … that is a fierce look, it’s enough to give me chills, just looking at it. I wonder if that’s her war face? The deepest part o’ me gets the slightest thrill to see it, I swear.

Then she reaches over, behind her, and picks something up from the floor on her hidden side. It’s her sword, that beautiful bastard sword I remember from her office. The same blade she made such a name for herself with. “Lead on.”

Nodding with the subtlest smile, I roll back onto my heels and push myself up, flipping my helmet over as I do so to flare the cowl out. As I straighten up I slip the whole thing back into place over my head, taking a moment to adjust it until it’s perfectly comfortable in place, and turn back to Lady Naru. “I’m gonna need some light out there.”

That makes her frown. “But we already have light. This follows me, so of course it should be enough for you to –”

“I’m not gonna be with you, though. Somebody’s gotta keep those things distracted, cover your escape. I’m the best fighter here, ‘least after Thura, and she’s gonna be busy getting her family out. Which you’re gonna help her with.”

“What? But –”

“No arguments, Sulin.” Her brows rise at the sudden familiarity, but I don’t regret the slip. To be honest, reckon I’ve gotten used to her enough now it fits. “You’re leading ‘em out, and I’m trusting you with my friends as well as yours. You got me?”

I say that just as I’m sure she was gonna try and argue again, and for a moment she just stands there, watching me with her mouth open, before finally closing it with a particularly frustrated little frown. “Damn it … all right. But you remember your promise to me. I need you as much as you need me right now.”

Watching her for a beat, I finally just extend my hand, and after a loaded beat she reaches out and give it a healthy grip. Then she nods, lets go, and turns back to her friend.

Now I look at Uhra. “You up to this?”

“Of course … yes. I am.” She lays her hand on her sword as she steps to Thura’s side and gives me a stern look. “It’s my job. But I mean … I would anyway. They’re … y’know …”

“Yeah.” I nod in response. “I get it. Good.”

When I turn round this time I’m already starting to step away, but I’m stopped short when I find Shay’s stood less than three feet behind me, giving me a particularly dark look. “Don’t even think about telling me to abandon you too. If you’re staying, I’m staying.”

I almost argue with her, but I stop myself as I realise I don’t want to. To be honest, I know I could use the help. So I just nod as I sigh: “Yeah, all right.” Stepping forward, I give her shoulder a soft little slap. “I’ll be glad to have you.”

She just frowns at that, and clearly I surprised her since she must’ve been preparing to argue her case. Instead she gives a clipped nod and steps back out my way, and as she moves I see Krakka behind her, pushing himself to his feet. Still unsteady on ‘em, but smoother than before.

“Don’t start, you’re going with the others.”

Narrowing his eyes, he gives me a particularly stern look as he grabs hold of Bloodmoon’s shaft and gives it a hard yank that largely fails to pick it up off the floor, instead just pulling him over to lean at an angle. “Come off it, I’m … I’m getting better now. My Lady is … I think I have something in me again. Another few minutes of prayer and I might –”

“There’s no time, Krakka. Besides, if there is anything in your tank right now, they’re gonna need it more’n we are out there.” I let my hand settle on Hedred’s hilt now. “You already helped us, it’s up to us to give the rest o’ you a chance to get out. Then we’ll be right behind you.”

He watches me for a long, loaded moment, and I genuinely can’t tell if I’m winning him over or he might try to argue again. Then he lets a grunting, raspy sigh go and nods, or maybe it’s more like he just drops his head in clear exhaustion. “Shit … all right. But you’d better follow, as soon as you can. Otherwise I’m coming back in the moment the others are out.”

“Fair enough.” I step up to him now and grab hold of his shoulder by the pauldron, giving it a gentle but firm tug to drag him to his full height so he can finally pick his hammer up again. He blinks up at me in somewhat flustered surprise as I let go, but I’m already moving on.

Art looks up as I reach him, already picking Darwyn up in his arms as he gets one foot under him and straightens his back. Ready to lift. The halfling looks deeply uncomfortable, but I also get the sense that her clear pain is at least giving her focus as she blinks up at me, managing to focus now even if her eyes are still heavily lidded.

“Okay, I need you to –”

“Yeah, I got it already.” Art growls under his breath as he pushes himself upright, giving me a pretty scathing glare. “I can read a room. I’ll be ready.”

“Fine. Well just go fast, and stay close to Krakka.” I reach out now and give his shoulder a little squeeze too. “And be careful.”

“You too. No stupid risks. Don’t do any more’n you got to to cover us, then haul your arse out. I mean it, I’m with Krakka. I’m gonna be pissed at you if you die in here. Gael needs you.”

Giving his mane a little ruffle before he can stop me, I drop him a nod. He don’t bat me away this time, just steps back, giving me a sharp look, but he’s smiling a little all the same. Finally I tip Darwyn a quick wink and she manages a tired half-smile of her own in response, and I turn for the door now.

Yeslee’s already stepping towards me, her bow still nocked as she keeps half-turned towards the door. Ready in case anything happens even as she regards me. “It’s getting ugly out there. We have minutes, and not many of those.”

“Yeah, I’m on it.”

“Do you want me to back you up, or …” She don’t finish, instead just frowning, looking round at the rest o’ the room, and I pick up on her reluctance immediately. It’s almost enough to make me take her up on the offer, but I can’t.

“No, you’re my best hope for ‘em all getting out good an’ fast. Brung too.” I look at the goblin now, who’s already turned away from this place at the door to look at me now as he catches his name. “You’re cool with that, right wee man?”

“Yes.” He turns away without another word, going straight back to his sharp-eyed vigil through the crack.

Cocking a brow, I turn back to Yes. “Guess that’s good. You okay with that?”

She quirks her own brow just a little even though I know there’s no way she could’ve actually caught my gesture with the helmet, then just shrugs. “If you think it’s best. You’re probably right. I’ll do my part.” She turns to Shay now, giving her a look over. “Watch over this one. I’m starting to like her.”

When I turn to the half-orc I see her own brows have shot right up, her eyes wide as she looks at the Fir Bolg with clear surprise, but there’s a little bit of a shy smile touching her mouth too. Then I spot Lady Naru making her way over, weaving something between her hands while Thadeon follows her with her staff grasped in his little hands, and I realise she’s making another one of those light globes. I step back towards her now as she arrives, already holding out her hands as it takes form between ‘em. “Great, just in time –”

”Here.” She thrusts it right at me without ceremony. “Hold your hands out. Quickly, please.”

Catching the slightly flustered urgency in her tone, I do as I’m told, and as I bring my hands together in front of me she essentially tosses the globe into ‘em. I scramble a touch to make sure I don’t drop it, but it don’t actually fall, as if it seems to sense my own intent, and simply floats above my palms. “Um … right, sure, what do I –”

“Blow on it.” She has a subtle smile of her own now as she gently plucks her staff from Thadeon’s grasp. “Gently.”

Frowning, I closely raise my hands, and the globe rises with ‘em. “Um … okay?” Leaning forward and feeling entirely ridiculous, I breathe a gentle puff of air onto the little ball of brilliant light, and I swear it brightens just a little when I do it. Then it starts to rise, and as I take a surprised step back it follows me. Oh … wow, that’s actually really cool.

“That’s it.” The sorcerer beams at me, already taking a step back. “You’re all set.”

“Great.” I take a deep breath, suddenly realising I’m actually committing to this plan now, and take another step back, opening room around me now as I reach for the back of’ my belt and unhook the other little something I picked up from Stormshield’s workshop in Bavat.

Taking a moment to strap it into place on my left wrist, I check the fit over for a couple o’ beats until I’m comfortable with it before giving the handle the little twisting squeeze that the Silver Order’s master weaponsmith explained to me. It feels a little rudimentary, I remember at the time I wondered if it might not be a little foolish since I’m just as likely to repeat the gesture without thinking about it in the middle of a battle, but he assured me it wouldn’t be a problem. The way he made it, the enchantment he wove into the mechanism means that it's designed to pick up on my intent when I do it, so once I twist it’ll activate and then lock until I intentionally close it up again. Even so, I don’t really believe it’s actually gonna work until I actually do it … and it activates just as it did back in the Academy.

Essentially it’s a shield, but it’s the fanciest one I ever seen. Not so much in its actual design, although I’ll admit it’s pretty sweet looking in a largely functional kind of way, built for practicality more’n style. Or maybe that’s just why I like it. It starts out as just a tightly folded block of thick, dark dwarven steel plate less’n a foot square, but with that simple motion the whole thing seems to uncurl, almost like a flower opening to the sun. Albeit a good deal louder, with a lot o’ clicking and metallic shunting, until it’s fully unfurled.

Now I got a subtly curved shield with a tilting diamond shape strapped to my arm, three feet tall and two and half across at its widest. Once again I’m a little surprised that it’s nowhere near as heavy as I expected it to be, but then Hurrig promised me that was very much taken into consideration when he made it in the first place. Even so, I find myself shifting my stance immediately to compensate for its simple bulk, years of deep-ingrained drilling and muscle memory taking over almost entirely without conscious thought. It’s been a few years since I actually used a shield, but it feels like I never stopped …

“Bloody hell …” Shay breathes beside me, which perks my attention a little, and I look up to find her eying my shield with surprise. “So that’s what it does?”

“Beats having to lug a regular one round all the time.” I mutter as I test its heft for a few moments, just getting a read on how it effects my balance. To be honest, it might’ve been better if I’d got a little practice in with it first, I’m usually pretty wary about jumping straight into a fight with an untried piece o’ kit, and like I said it’s been a little while since I actually fought with a shield. But this time round circumstances ain’t really been too conducive to opportunity. So I’m going with what I got.

“It’s very impressive.” Yes offers up, and while her face is completely straight and her tone entirely even, I can’t help feeling like she’s taking the piss a little bit. So I give her a sharp little glare that she likely misses thanks to the helmet anyway.

“Whatever.” I finally growl under my breath, reaching over now to draw my sword. If I’m gonna do this, might as well do it properly. Then, as the blade flares bright when I slide it free, I turn to Thura, who Lady Naru’s now helped to her feet, supporting her friend even as she holds her sword low at her side, preparing herself for … well, whatever. “You ready?”

“Enough.” Her reply’s honest, I’ll give her that, but then she’s still too worn out from just pure grief to really convince as a warrior right now. “Someone … can someone come back for Dery? I don’t want him to … burn ...”

“We’ll do what we can.” Shay surprises me, but she’s looking down at her sword when she says it, testing the edge of the strange crystalline blade as it glow in her hands. Like she’s preparing herself for what’s to come.

“Yeah.” I agree with a clipped nod. “We get done up here, I’ll bring ‘im down myself. We don’t manage it, it’ll be cuz we’re dead.”

Naru cocks a brow at that, while Yes narrows her eyes a little, but it’s Krakka who reacts most to my words, his own eyes widening considerably while he seems to be searching for an admonishment. But then Thura simply says: “Thank you.” her voice cracking a little, and it seems to smooth the mood somewhat.

I turn to give Yes one last look, and for the life o’ me I can’t think of anything to say in the moment, but she just nods at me, seeming to read me even with the helmet, and that’s enough for me. So I turn round without another word and start for the door, just trusting Shay to pick up on it as I go.

Brung’s already dragging the door open wide now, springing aside as I approach so he don’t trip me up, and he gives me a little nod of his own as I pass him by. I start to charge now, squaring up my shoulders as I tighten my form, bending my back so I can draw myself into a ready guard soon as I’ve cleared the door. Adjusting my grip on my father’s sword as I rush out into the corridor, taking a cautious breath and holding it in anticipation of what I’m about.

In the end I only look round with my eyes, and I keep the glance short and focused, taking in only what I need to right now. The first one of … whatever the fuck these things are, it’s almost right on top of us already, I reach it in three big, quick strides, and there’s ‘least half a dozen more behind it now, or maybe that’s just all I can make out in what seems to be an ugly growing jumble of … unpleasantness.

Soon as I’m close the smell hits me, stronger than before by a wide margin. It’s a truly nasty stink, not necessarily rotten meat, but it’s gone bad all the same, more like it’s been badly burned, but greasy too, a really fatty odour that catches in the back o’ my sinuses. But worse is the sound, these things seem to creak and crackle as they move, wet and sinewy as only raw meat can be, and it’s enough to give me chills on its own.

Their movements, now I can really see it, are jerky and somewhat … off, really. Now I’m really looking they don’t really seem like they’re actually alive, it’s just a trick o’ their animation, they remind me more of puppets, but they got something really wrong with ‘em, like the joints or strings or whatever it is making ‘em move don’t work right. Maybe there is something of the undead in ‘em, but … no, this is something else, something truly strange and unfathomably wrong.

At least my own instant revulsion helps to spur me to action, even if it’s just to get this thing outta my way quick as I can. So I swing the moment I’ve closed the distance, turning in a low cut to arc up to cleave it in half through what could generously be called its waist and up through its lower chest. Eldritch horror or not, this thing’s just meat, I don’t see it putting up much of a fight against my white hot blade.

Except that it reacts to my attack while I make it, and while my blade does cut a substantial gouge up through something resembling a ribcage, it still manages to dodge a full, cleaving stroke. And I suddenly realise it’s got a whole lot more limbs that it has any right to as it snaps something like a mix between a leg and a heavily segmented whip round towards my face as I reel aside, attempting to recover from my aborted cut. Intent on battering my down, or maybe worse. I saw what those shadow things did to Darwyn, I don’t wanna see what these things could do with whatever they got.

So I bring my shield up quick, planting my feet best I can as I turn my shoulder as much into the coming blow as I can … and it still hits me like a battering ram. The shield holds up magnificently, bearing the brunt of the strike, but I still fold under the force of it, and it knocks me hard into the wall before I bounce off again. Suddenly unbalanced …

Then Shay’s there, her sword flaring spectacularly as she spins it in a blazing flourish which sheers the offending appendage clean away with a hissing hot sizzle before following through with three cuts to the body which are so fast I have trouble tracking ‘em. Certainly this thing don’t have a chance to dodge this time, and as I start to topple now it’s already coming apart as it starts to sag. Then I’m falling and I got more immediate concerns.

Growing acutely aware that, comparatively light as it is, the shield’s definitely thrown off my balance from what I’m used to, I just throw that arm out to the side as I hurl myself forward into a hard roll, judging the coming tumble well as I can for the weight of my armour. ‘Least I manage to hold onto my sword as I just barely make it without throwing myself onto my face on the recovery, but I’m still clumsy regaining my feet. In the end I just chuck myself at the wall again, this time intentionally bouncing off it so I can come up ready on the other side. Just as another one comes at me with startling speed, jerky as the first and, now that I’m starting to get a read on ‘em, damn unpredictable.

When this one tries to take a swipe at me with one of its nasty feelers I don’t try to dodge this time, instead swinging my shield up in a wide, forceful arc fully intended to swat it away while I charge in to meet it. I hear the dull, wet, heavy thwack of meat and snapping, cracking bone but the check works, and I’m already turning my shoulder into its centre of mass, gritting my teeth as I hold my breath, trying hard not to breathe when I’m this close to the fucking thing. It's like barging into a chunk of solid oak, it’s got no right to be this bloody solid, but it ain’t rooted like a tree, so I still manage to knock it off balance. So I plant my feet and this time when I cut up my attack works without a hitch.

Thorin, it’s a beautiful stroke, actually. I don’t just shear clean through its main trunk in a near perfect forty-five degree angle, but I sever three more o’ those nasty dishevelled limbs in the process, all the pieces tumbling aside around me as I manage to step right through it without quite meaning too. Already planting my feet now as I see more of ‘em coming up fast beyond.

“Are they clear?” I call out without turning, reluctant to take my eyes off the threats as they present themselves. “Tell me they’re clear!”

“They’re gone!” Shay’s already coming in close on my left, bent low at the ready as she takes up a wary stance with her sword cocked high in both hands. “It’s just us! What do you want to do?”

Chancing the quickest sidelong glance at her, I shift my footing and adjust my grip on Hefdred, moving my shield now to cover me again as I prepare for the next attack. “Just hold the line. We can’t break yet, we gotta stand. You good?”

“Good enough.” she breathes, tightening up just a little more. “You?”

I almost grin at that. Honestly, now the fight’s on I almost feel good again. “Oh yeah. Don’t mind me.”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #the creeping bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 4 chapter 4 #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 3 months

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The Golden Elf

Love Bites, Chapter 4 // Love Bites {Masterlist}

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x fem!vampire spawn!elf!Tav/reader

Summary: Sometimes, vampires choose their spawn specifically. Sometimes, they're in the wrong place at the wrong time and are lost to their loved ones for centuries. These days, that's all you can think about.

Word Count: 9,769 words

Warnings: 18+, smut & fluff, flashback within a flashback, past perspective, established relationship, Astarion pre-vampirism, Astarion's parents, the ruling, slice of life, direct mention of Astarion's death, you being deeply in love with Astarion, cuddling, sappy relationship, family dynamics, appreciating Astarion,

18+ Warnings: explicit smut, multiple instances of smut, unprotected sex, soft sex, slow & gentle sex, consensual, love making, fingering, vaginal sex, pull-out, aftercare, dirty talk, touching over clothes, mirror sex, multiple creampies, riding, oral (m receiving), changing positions, rough sex, consent check-ins, cockwarming

Note: This is a long chapter, possibly the longest in this whole series, and it's mostly smut. Have fun!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Morning dawned brightly in your bedroom—almost too brightly, which was explained by the curtains still being open from last night’s adventure to the roof with your boyfriend.

You squeezed your eyes shut again and rolled over in bed, burying your face in his chest. “You left the curtains open, you dolt,” you complained into his chest.

Astarion chuckled, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. “Good morning, darling. Nice to see you, too.”

To make up for your sour attitude, you moved to quickly peck his lips, then hid your face in his chest again. “Morning.”

“Oh, come on, darling. Can’t I get a better good morning kiss?”

You grumbled and shook your head. “Not yet. I’m not awake yet.”

“Fair enough.” He squeezed you tightly, rolling to lay you on top of him. He kissed the top of your head. “Sleep well?”

“I did. Until I was rudely awoken by the sun,” you added.

“The sun is beautiful and wants to say hello to a very beautiful woman,” he teased. “That’s you, by the way.”

You grabbed your pillow and whacked him softly on the head with it. “It’s too early for this, Astarion.”

“Nonsense! It’s never too early for me to lavish my lady love with praise.” He kissed your temple. “Come on, darling, can’t I see that pretty face?”

At last, you raised your head and looked up at your boyfriend. Despite your bedhead and morning grumpy attitude and your squinty eyes, his handsome face broke into a smile at the sight of you.

“There she is,” he cooed, cupping your chin and kissing your forehead softly. You hummed happily, leaning into his touch, and then put your head back down on his chest. “Still sleepy?”

You nodded. “Mhm. And you’re very comfortable… I could go back to sleep on you like this.”

Astarion’s body was warm beneath you, his skin soft and his body that wonderful in-between of muscle and soft flesh. His arms wrapped around you are more comfortable than the blanket draped over the two of you, the only thing keeping the two of you from giving your neighbors across the street (who were known to be quite nosey) an eyeful of two naked elves.

“Oh, really? How about I…wake you up, then, darling?” he suggested, grinning cheekily and winking when you looked up at him. The only trace of the shy boy who’d nervously asked to make love to you for the first time so long ago was in the pale blush on his pretty cheeks, a much lighter shade than the flush you’d seen that first night.

With your words slurring together, you mumbled, “You have to go to work, Asty.” Still, you clung to him, not quite ready to let him go yet.

“Nuh uh,” he said, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “It’s still early—almost two hours early. We can have a little fun, go back to sleep, and I can still be perfectly on time.”

“Two hours? We woke up two hours earlier than normal because you left the curtains open? No wonder I’m not awake enough yet.”

“Almost two hours, not quite,” he said. He rubbed your back, his hand drifting toward your ass and squeezing. “What do you say, darling?”

You harrumphed. “Not until you close that curtain, dingus.”

“What, you don’t want the whole street to see how much pleasure I can give you? You’re no fun, dearest.”

You scoffed. “Oh, yes, because that’s exactly what Baldur’s Gate needs—to see one of its top magistrates banging his girlfriend in all the nasty ways she likes at five in the morning.”

“Fiancée, darling,” he corrected. “How long is it going to take you to remember that? Did I not make my proposal memorable enough?” He pouted playfully.

You giggled. “You did, believe me,” you insisted. “I just like hearing you say it.”

Astarion beamed. “Oh, really?”

You nodded. “Now go close those curtains, honey.”

He laughed as he stood up. “So now she wants sex.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” you said. “I can’t help it, I have a wonderful man in bed with me.”

You watched as he closed the curtain, the muscles in his shoulders and upper back flexing beneath the skin. For a man living a mostly sedentary life, he certainly kept in remarkably good shape.

Astarion turned back to you, the curtain closed behind him, a very pale light filling the room so that you could still see his face. “Happy now?”

The look on his face alone made you kick off the blankets and beckon him back to bed. “Very happy. Come here, you. Come kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Astarion crawled on top of you and slid his arms underneath you, kissing you heartily. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You let one hand drift over the shell of his sensitive ear and his entire body shuddered.

“Two can play at that game,” he warned, returning the favor. Pleasure shot through you and you sighed softly, arching to press your body against his.

“Gods, Astarion,” you whispered. “Keep—keep doing that.”

He kept touching your ear as he moved down your body, kissing down your neck and collarbones, stopping at your breasts and paying special attention to one while gently squeezing the other in his free hand. Between kisses and sucking, he asked you, “Did I hear you say you wanted it nasty earlier?”

You rolled your eyes. “I was exaggerating.”

He looked up at you. “Do you want it nasty though?”

You shook your head. “Soft and sweet, please.”

Astarion smiled. “Thought so. It’s a bit too early to be rough with you, huh?”

“Mhm,” you agreed, smiling as he went back to sucking on your nipples. “Feels good, Asty…”

He took his hand away from your ear and instead brought it between your legs. “Can I touch you, darling?”

“Please do,” you whispered to him. “I want it.”

Astarion smiled against your skin and slid two fingers along your entrance. You spread your legs more for him and sighed contentedly. He kissed your stomach softly as he rubbed slow circles around your clit. You moaned softly.

“Just like that, honey,” you breathed. But after a few moments, you bucked your hips against his hand. He knew exactly what you wanted and slipped two fingers inside you. He curled them at the knuckle and you keened, muffling your sounds in his shoulder.

“That’s it, darling,” he breathed. “That’s it. As soon as we have our own place, you can be as loud as you want, but not yet.”

His fingers moved deftly inside of you, quickly working you up. He rubbed them against the soft, sensitive places of your walls while his thumb circled your clit. He pressed his soft lips to yours for every curl of his fingers.

For some reason, you were particularly sensitive this morning; it didn’t take long before your body was twitching and spasming and your legs were beginning to shake.

“Close already?” he asked. You nodded. “Mind if I replace my fingers with my cock, then? I know it’s faster than normal, but I want to feel you cum around me.”

You nodded once again. “Please, honey…”

He pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean. Your eyes remained glued to his face, so you didn’t see him push in, but you did see his face scrunch up in pleasure and you felt the delicious stretch of your body trying to accommodate him. For a moment, it was a struggle and you whimpered quietly. He kissed you softly.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Can I keep going?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Alright. Good girl. That’s it, take my cock, darling.” He pushed all the way in and stayed there, holding you close to him for a moment, pressing his forehead against yours. “Tell me when I can move, and stop me if it hurts.”

You kissed him gently. His lips were a balm to any discomfort you felt in your nether regions, though there was hardly any of that anyway. “I’m ready now, Asty. You can move.”

“Tell me if it hurts,” he said again and kissed your forehead before he started to thrust gently and slowly.

Your head fell back against the pillows and you arched your back, pushing your body against him. He chuckled, bending to kiss along the column of your neck.

“Feeling okay?” he asked, his tone teasing; he knew perfectly well you felt okay.

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he moved deeper. “Feels good… You’re— You feel good, honey.”

“Oh, do I?” he joked, punctuating his words with a languid roll of his hips. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his hips. You pushed his head down to yours and kissed him heartily.

For a few moments, there was nothing but the sounds of your heavy breathing in the room, the slide of bodies against silk sheets, and your ceaseless kissing. He was moving so slowly that the sound of skin on skin was slight.

Into your mouth, he murmured, “You feel so good around my cock, darling… So tight and wet, like I’ve been working you up for hours… Did you, perhaps, have a pleasant dream about me?”

“I’m always having pleasant dreams about you, though not always the kind you’re suggesting,” you replied, smiling cheekily at him. He raised an eyebrow and you continued, “Dreams of our future together, dearest, and how much I love you—not just of how good you fuck me.”

He grinned. “Oh, you little minx! How I love you.”

Astarion reached down and began to rub your clit just the way you liked, thrusting a little harder, kissing you with a bit more force. You moaned happily into his mouth and he giggled. Gods, how you loved that little giggle.

He pulled away from you and brushed your hair off your face. He cupped your cheek, smiling down at you.

“You’re so beautiful, darling,” he whispered.

“So are you,” you told him. “You look like a god right now.”

It was true; his curls framed his face beautifully, glowing a soft silver at the ends, his honey eyes dark in this lighting. His cheeks were a pretty shade of pink with exertion, his lips parted, his gaze more than a little blissful.

A mix of embarrassment and pride flooded his features. “Oh, darling, don’t flatter me…”

“I mean it,” you promised, cupping his cheek. He leaned into your touch. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you, darling,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours. You leaned up to kiss him again, your hand sliding from his shoulders and down the planes of his back. You adjusted your legs to hold onto him tighter.

His thrusts grew harder and more punctuated. The head of his cock kissed your walls with every thrust. You let out small, barely contained whimpers with every thrust. He stopped kissing your mouth and nudged your chin up with his nose. He began kissing your neck, leaving delicate hickeys behind.

“A little louder, sweetheart,” he breathed. “I want to hear you a little more.”

“But your parents—”

“Are in a room downstairs. They can’t hear us. And if they do…well, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Astarion’s fingers sped up on your clit, giving you no choice but to moan for him. You panted his name, digging your fingers into his curls. He smiled against your skin, his movements quickening.

You were clenching around him in no time. “Asty— Asty, I’m almost—”

“I know, darling, I know,” he cooed. “Let go for me. I’ve got you, just let go… I’ll be there with you soon.”

Comforted by his words and his hold on you, you relaxed and leaned your head into his shoulder. A few more gentle thrusts and a few more swipes of his thumb on your clit and your walls were trembling around him. You finished around him, moaning quietly into his neck, far more subdued than normal but enjoying yourself nonetheless.

“That’s it, good girl,” he breathed. “You did so well, darling. Mind if I finish up?”

“Please do,” you whispered, kissing his cheek.

His moan of relief was closer to a whimper. “Thank you, my sweet…”

One, two, three more thrusts and he was pulling out of you, spilling himself on your stomach. His jaw dropped open, his eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaved. He moaned softly as he came, silencing himself by kissing you heartily. He collapsed onto you the moment he was finished. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close to you as the two of you tried to catch your breath together.

“Was that good?” Astarion asked after a few moments, once again that shy, nervous boy seeking your approval. “You were quieter than normal.”

“It was a soft, quiet kind of morning,” you said, kissing his forehead. “You were perfect, Asty. I loved it. Every second of it. Did you?”

“Mhm,” Astarion said with a grin. “You always feel so amazing.”

You brushed your fingers through his curls. “I’m glad you liked it. I think…I think we need to have soft sex like that more often. It was quite nice, and we only ever do it in the morning.”

He glanced down at your body, at your abdomen still covered in his cum. “Here, let me clean you up.”

You watched him get up and disappear into the adjoining washroom. He came back a few moments later with a cloth soaked in warm water. You watched him cross to you, your eyes soaking up his lean figure and long, skilled fingers.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, crawling back onto the bed and beginning to wipe down your stomach.

“Oh, nothing, I’m just admiring the love of my life,” you told him. He paused in his cleaning to kiss your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered to you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“And I love you,” you returned, smiling softly at him.

He sat between your legs, gently wiping your folds and your entrance. You relaxed, humming softly, as he worked. When he was finished, he laid down next to you.

“Gimme that,” you mumbled, grabbing the cloth from him. You wiped him down also, cleaning his own release off of his abdomen from when he collapsed on you and your combined releases from his length and hips.

“Thank you, darling,” he said when you were finished. You tossed the cloth to the floor, a problem for an hour from now, when you actually got up. He beckoned you back into his arms and you happily laid in his embrace. He stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head, hugging you to his chest, your legs twining together.

Several peaceful moments passed, your mind stuck on the image of his cock dripping onto your stomach, twitching against you as he finished. At last, you said, “Astarion?”

“Yes, dear?” he mumbled into your hair, a few moments away from sleep.

“Later tonight…I want you to cum inside me.”

He jolted awake faster than you had ever seen. “You want me to what?”

Heat flushed through your body and your embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. “Only if you want to, but I…I think it might be nice. And we’ve waited long enough for it.”

Astarion tilted your head up with two fingers under your chin. His eyes were dark with desire again. “I understand your reasoning for it, darling, but I desperately want you to say it again.”

Excitement fluttered through you. “Tonight, when we have sex, I want you to cum inside me.”

A whimper escaped his lips. “Oh, gods above… Darling, you’re— Yes, absolutely, I— Yes!” He cupped your face and kissed you softly. “Oh, sweetheart… Gods, I can’t wait!”

You smiled. “You’re going to have to, honey, we have to get up soon and I would like my next hour of sleep back.”

He huffed. “Oh, yes, yes, I know. But tonight…you’ll let me?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. You’ll have something to look forward to all day.”

Astarion groaned. “If I get hard in court, this is your fault.”

You laughed. “You better not be thinking about fucking me in court, Asty, I think that would count as negligence.”

He frowned. “How so?”

“Because when you think about fucking me, you can’t focus on anything else. Believe me, I’ve seen the look in your eyes, I know when your brain’s elsewhere.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, hush. Just lay with me instead of teasing me. I want to hold you.”

Smiling, you snuggled into his arms. “Alright, alright. Let’s go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, honey.”

Astarion kissed the top of your head, humming his agreement. He let you snuggle into him and get comfortable before he rested his head atop yours and began rubbing soothing circles into your back. You drifted off, warm and happy in his arms.

~❊~

A brief knock on the front door announced Astarion’s arrival before he himself walked in, shaking rainwater from his coat and hair and carrying a paper bag with the corks of two wine bottles sticking out of it.

“Hello, hello!” he called, not realizing you and his mother stood together in the kitchen, in the middle of making dinner. “It’s raining something awful out there— Oh! Hi, Ma.” He hung up his coat and joined you in the kitchen, kissing his mother’s cheek. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and kissed your temple softly. “Is Dad home yet?”

“Not yet,” Selwynn replied.

“How was work, hun?” you asked, turning your face to return the kiss.

His face darkened briefly. “That’s a conversation for when my father’s present,” he told you and you knew instantly something hadn’t gone well. The more you studied him, the more exhausted he looked.

“Are you alright, though?” you asked.

Astarion shrugged. “I’m alright.” He kissed you again and the softness of it alleviated your worries, but only a little.

From behind both of you, Selwynn tousled his hair. “Go wash up, darling, dinner’s almost ready. Your sweetheart will be waiting for you when you get back, I promise.”

You blushed and he rolled his eyes. No matter how many years you had spent with the Ancunin family, acknowledgement of your relationship with Astarion always brought heat to your cheeks, just as it had when you were kids and in denial about liking each other.

Astarion left the kitchen and you helped his mother set up the dining table. Halfway through, his father, Thesan, came in—also complaining about the rain.

“Like father, like son,” Astarion’s mother whispered to you before going to greet her husband. You watched with a smile; with their greeting hugs and forehead kisses and the respect they held for each other, it was their marriage you and Astarion strove to emulate.

Astarion surprised you with his arms around your waist again and a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. “Smells amazing, darling,” he whispered to you. He peppered kisses down your neck and to your shoulder.

You giggled. “Keep that up and you’re going to wipe away the makeup I put on to hide all the hickeys you left on me this morning!”

“Ah, so that’s what’s missing! I knew something looked different,” he teased. He kissed your lips softly.

“Behave yourself,” you reminded him, only half-teasing.

Astarion greeted his father as the four of you sat down around the table. You passed dishes back and forth, serving yourselves, while Astarion’s father talked about his day and the rulings he’d made. Astarion tensed when he asked how his day at court had been. He took his time responding.

“Contentious,” Astarion finally decided. “There’s a group of Gur who aren’t too pleased with a ruling I made today.”

Thesan raised an eyebrow. “A ruling? What about?”

“Trade regulations,” Astarion said idly, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. There has been worse backlash over bigger problems than not being able to sell the teeth of vampires they’ve caught and brutally murdered.”

His father nodded. “The Gur can be a nasty sort, anyway,” he said, “and quite vicious.”

You pursed your lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t mean going against the Gur’s, I don’t know, is monster hunting a lifestyle? Doesn’t matter—ruling against them in this capacity, doesn’t that technically mean…the ruling protects vampires?”

“Not at all, darling,” Astarion assured you. “It doesn’t prevent them from hunting vampires, just from selling their teeth. Talk amongst my coworkers suggests there’s someone of high standing who wasn’t too pleased to find a necklace of vampire fangs in for sale by a Gur vendor.”

Thesan raised his brows. “So is this a ruling made by, or in honor of…pressures from, ah, on high?”

Both you and Selwynn tensed. The word bribery was never used by the two men, but it didn’t take much to deduce they’d both taken bribes for certain rulings before. It made your gut twist unhappily; Thesan could do what he wished, but you had hoped Astarion would avoid following in his father’s slowly corrupting footsteps.

“Not exactly,” Astarion said, his tone too light to be completely honest, which was all you needed for confirmation. “I’m not lining my pockets by making this decision, that is. But I’d rather there not be vampire teeth on the market, especially if it can put the rest of us in danger.”

You cast your eyes back to your plate. You could hear the tone in Astarion’s voice, the one that suggested he didn’t really believe what he was saying, only rationalizing it. You loved the man, but, gods, how you hated how easily swayed he was.

“Anyway, that’s beside the point—but no, the ruling doesn’t benefit the vampires in any way. Vampires aren’t even mentioned aside from the teeth!” Astarion added with a little laugh. “The Gur are angry because they believe it benefits the nobility. But it’s really neither here nor there, I think.”

Thesan was nodding his understanding. “Likely because there are no similar restrictions on the nobility.”

Astarion shrugged. “I think all we need to do is provide that restriction to calm the waters a little. Fair is fair?”

“Now, be careful with that, son,” Thesan said. “Nobility don’t take kindly to being told what they can and cannot do.”

You looked up sharply. “But won’t letting them do whatever they wish lead to—to outright lawlessness? It starts small, then works its way up to egregious crimes, all in the name of ‘an eye for an eye’?”

His father inclined his head to you with a small laugh, much deeper than Astarion’s. If it weren’t for the eyes they shared, the similar way they held themselves, and the fact that Astarion’s voice sounded just like his father’s when he got angry, you would question whether or not they were really related. “Quite the quick thinker you are, dear. Perhaps it would, though I doubt it. Most nobility would rather trade in bribes, political threats, and lies than get their hands dirty.”

You frowned. “Yet the Gur trade in death threats. They aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. Why not cater to them? They pose a bigger threat!”

“Darling, nobles are quite dangerous, even if they don’t seem that way,” Astarion said, reaching a hand out to you and a nervous glance to his father. Clearly, he could also sense the argument that was about to happen.

“The Gur are dubious, deceitful, morally inept vagrants,” Thesan replied, his tone stonier than before. “Nobility are predictable; Gur are not. We know how the nobility will respond, but the Gur are a wild card. It’s best to stick to what you know.”

“So you’d trust the knife you can see versus the one hiding in the shadows? Even though the one in the shadows has the advantage?” you pressed, a mix of confusion and anger welling up inside of you. Astarion winced.

Thesan was clearly fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “You’re assuming one has to be trusted,” he said. “But neither should be. All a magistrate should trust is himself.”

You sighed, putting down your fork. “I’m sorry, Thesan, but it really doesn’t seem that way. It— Forgive me, but it seems like you’d rather trust the corrupt, and the known corrupt, at that, rather than take a chance on people who are…brutally honest.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you insinuating that I—”

“Father,” Astarion cut in, his voice sharp. “She’s not insinuating anything. She’s making clear what her perspective is.”

“I don’t need her perspective, I’ve been a magistrate—”

“Well I value it!” Astarion snapped. He clenched his jaw and, calmer, continued, “I value her opinions on everything and have asked her to share them. I find it helps me make informed decisions—ones not mandated by our coworkers and higher ups.”

Miffed, Thesan snapped, “I hardly need the input of children, Astarion! You may ask for her opinion, but I have no need for it and I will not be told how to do my job by—”

“That’s enough!” Selwynn said suddenly, loudly, smacking one hand on the table. You all jumped. “Neither of you are at work. This is a family dinner. Thesan, they may be young, but they are wise. We will listen to them without belittling them. And both of you are reasonable men who can solve things without shouting at each other—and ought to do it anywhere but my dinner table! As for you, my dear, you would do well to remember that Astarion and Thesan are not the same man, and while my son will take advice, my husband will not.”

You bowed your head to her. “Yes, Selwynn. I’m sorry.”

Astarion’s cheeks and ears were pink. He looked like a scolded child. “I’m sorry, Ma,” he said quietly. Selwynn took his hand and squeezed, then kissed the top of his head.

Thesan got out of his chair and went around to his wife, kissing her cheek. “My apologies, my love. My temper got the best of me.” He looked at you beside her. “I’m sorry, dear, I shouldn’t have dismissed you so easily. I will think on what you’ve said.”

You inclined your head in thanks.

As Thesan returned to his seat, Selwynn cleared her throat and turned to you. “So! Tell me, my dear, how has your work at the tavern been going?”

Relieved the topic had turned to something far less contentious, your shoulders relaxed and you found yourself smiling. “Much the same as always—the same regulars with mostly the same problems. Kit’s finally getting a divorce but she’s terribly upset about it because she’s afraid her husband’s going to get the house. Lianon broke his foot and is convinced the only painkiller he needs to take is alcohol. Oh, I almost forgot! Tivi was asking after you, she wants to know how your newest sewing project is going. I said I’d ask, but I didn’t tell her you’re sewing my wedding veil, I knew she’d start screeching and we were quite crowded.”

Selwynn beamed. “Oh, it’s going quite well! I’m just finishing up on the trim—a string of lilies going around the edge, to match the ones in your crowns and on the tables. I must show you after dinner.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “Am I allowed to see it, or must I wait until the big day?”

“You can see the veil, just not the dress, and especially not on me,” you teased.

“Are you still working as the barkeep?” Thesan asked, rejoining you all at the table. “I’m surprised you haven’t managed to swoop the whole business out from Barnabas’ feet, now that he’s getting up there in age.”

You bit back a grin. “Actually, he offered it to me. They want me to become the tavernkeeper once he retires.”

Astarion looked up. “You didn’t tell me that!”

“I only found out today,” you said apologetically.

“Do you want to take it?” he asked, biting his lip.

You shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“It would be a wonderful opportunity,” Thesan said. “Taverns are excellent moneymakers, even in a city like Baldur’s Gate, where there’s plenty of them. If you run it right, you could make it the best one around.”

You glanced at Astarion. He nodded encouragingly. “Well…Astarion and I have been talking, and… I’ve been considering leaving the tavern after we get married.”

Thesan propped himself up on his elbows. Selwynn shot him a look and he put his hands back in his lap. “Are you looking for something that might be more…sustainable, long-term? Or perhaps a higher wage?”

“Possibly?” you said. “I’m not exactly sure of the details yet—how long I’d stay at the tavern after we get married, for instance—but I think…” Astarion nodded again. “I think mostly I want to leave for better hours. It’s difficult enough when Astarion works in the day and I mostly in the evening as it is now, even with days like today when the other barkeep is working, but it absolutely won’t be manageable once we—” You licked your lips. “Once we have children.”

Selwynn gasped. “Are you expecting?”

“What? No!” You blushed profusely, glancing up at Astarion, and wondered how many times his parents had overheard you making love. “No, not yet. But we’ve been talking about it, and we want to start a family.”

Selwynn shrieked with joy. “Oh, that’s wonderful news! May the gods bless you with a babe, when the time is right for it.”

Thesan clapped Astarion on the back. “Congratulations, my son!”

Astarion blushed. “She’s not pregnant yet, Dad, wait until after the wedding!”

“You’ll tell us?” Selwynn asked. “When you are with child?”

You nodded. “As soon as we know for certain. But Astarion’s right—we won’t be trying until after we’re married.”

“Don’t be too discouraged if it takes a while, dearie, it took us almost a hundred years to conceive Astarion, and we were trying quite diligently,” Selwynn said, patting her son’s shoulder. He looked slightly mortified to learn this about his parents’ sex life. “The gods are careful with which elven soul they will give you to nurture.”

You finished dinner quickly and each of you helped clean up the mess of the meal until you told Selwynn and Thesan to sit down, and you and Astarion did the rest together.

“They took it well,” Astarion murmured in your ear.

“Of course they did, they want to be grandparents. Though I’m surprised they already want that this early—you’re only thirty-nine, you’re still technically their baby.”

Astarion sighed. “My mother misses holding an infant.”

The two of you lapsed into comfortable silence, you washing dishes and Astarion taking them from you to dry them. Eventually, he restarted the conversation by kissing your head.

“Darling?”

“Hmm?”

“What you…what you told me this morning…” He hesitated, blushing like a teenager again. “Are you trying to get a headstart on having our family?”

You smiled. “Oh, goodness, no. I very much doubt we’ll get that lucky, and I’m quite certain I’m not ovulating. It won’t happen this time.”

“You’re ‘quite certain’ you’re not?” he asked. “How long have you been tracking it?”

“Several months now. I’ve been…wanting to tell you to—” You lowered your voice, even though you were already speaking at a low volume. “—finish inside me for quite a while, but I didn’t want to risk getting pregnant before our wedding. But I know that won’t happen tonight.”

Astarion kissed your cheek. “Have I told you you’re perfect?”

“Nearly every day, honey,” you laughed, leaning into him.

“That simply will not do—I must tell you twice a day how perfect you are, darling!”

You giggled. “Careful, Asty, I might start to believe it.”

He lifted your head with two fingers under your chin, a warm smile in his eyes. Leaning in for a sweet kiss, he whispered, “I certainly hope you do.”

~❊~

The evening went on with talk of your wedding plans and the presentation of your unfinished veil over a couple of glasses of the wine Astarion had brought home. His parents retired to bed first while you and Astarion remained sitting in front of the hearth, sharing a comfortably padded lounge chair, the fire’s warmth making you sleepy in his arms and the orange glow turning him into a sun god.

Astarion lazily swirled his wine in his glass. “Do you want to go upstairs?” he asked. You gave a noncommittal hum. “As much as I love it when you fall asleep in my arms, sleeping in this chair, though cozy, will do our backs no favors.”

You slowly extricated yourself from his arms. “Oh, alright. Upstairs, then.” You stood up and stretched. He finished the last of his wine and you both picked up the glasses and recorked the bottles. With that taken care of, you held out your hand for him and walked up the stairs together.

While you washed and dressed for bed in the washroom together, you asked him, “Do you want to go out on the roof tonight?”

“There’s a chill in the air, and you’re wearing a short silk slip,” he said, sliding his hand up your inner thigh for emphasis. “You’ll freeze to death. Besides…” He leaned closer to your ear and squeezed your thigh. “There are better things for us to be doing.” His fingers found the gusset of your panties and he tsked. “You won’t be needing these tonight, darling.”

You leaned into his chest as his fingers kept stroking your covered slit. “Honey… Let…” You swallowed harshly. “Let me finish washing up first.”

He kissed the shell of your ear. You bit back a whimper. “I’m just going to make you dirty again, darling… Sweaty and slick and filled with me, in every way possible.” He began nibbling on the lobe of your ear.

“Asty,” you mumbled, craning your head up and pulling his mouth down to yours, your back to his chest. You spread your legs, letting him cup your clothed mound in his hand. He kissed you hungrily, moving his hand from your thigh to your ass. He squeezed gently and gave you a light smack before holding you around the waist.

“Look at us in the mirror,” he murmured into your lips. You glanced into the mirror and found him already staring at your beautifully twisted body. You whimpered instantly, seeing the appeal. Your back was pressed to his bare chest, the hand cupping you from behind visible against the dusty blue silk, your back arching slightly off of him and pushing your tits forward, your hard nipples poking through the fabric, color flushing both of your faces, his plump lower lip still between yours. He whispered, “You’re so beautiful when you’re desperate for me, my love.”

“I’m not desperate yet, hun,” you whispered.

He chuckled. “The pink on those ears says otherwise, darling.” He traced your ear again.

You moaned and pushed your lips firmly against his, your tongues sliding together. He brought his hand up from his waist and squeezed one of your tits. You whimpered into his mouth and he grinned. He kneaded your breast over your slip and began stroking you through your panties again. Something about having him so close but not really touching you was making you crazy. You writhed against him, bucking your hips with need, moaning into his mouth.

“You’re so wet for me, so needy even through these panties,” he murmured. “You horny little thing…”

Astarion wasn’t keeping his composure, either. He panted into your mouth, his erection pressing into your back through his boxers. Every so often, his hips stuttered against yours; you knew it wasn’t intentional. He groaned into your mouth, finding your clit and stroking. You moaned happily, your body trembling in response.

“Oh, gods, darling—can I touch you? Can I really touch you?” he moaned.

“Yes, please, fuck,” you whimpered.

Astarion moved quickly. He shoved your slip underneath your breasts, his hand gripping one and toying with your nipple. At the same time, he slid your panties to the side and stroked your slit with a single finger. You moaned in tandem. Astarion sunk a finger into you and began rubbing at your walls, pulling quiet whimpers from your lips. You threw your head back and he immediately began kissing his way down your neck and over your shoulder.

“That’s it, love,” he murmured against your skin, “just feel good for me… Just feel good and be beautiful. Look at you…”

The reverence in his voice made you glance in the mirror again and you understood his sudden attraction to the column of your neck. You leaned into him, sighing happily against his open-mouthed kisses.

“Need you,” he murmured, nipping at your skin until fresh bruises began to appear, overlapping with the ones he’d sucked into your neck this morning. He tucked you against his body. “Need more of you.”

You turned in his arms, whining at the loss of his fingers inside of you but still enjoying the way he held you to his chest like you’d disappear if he let go of you. “You can have me, Asty.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Here? Against this mirror?” He pushed you against it, pushing your slip up to your waist. He rubbed his palm over your ass and gave you a soft, affectionate smack. “You do look rather gorgeous bent over the basin like this.”

You locked eyes with him in the mirror, holding yourself up on the marble basin’s rim. “You can take me however you’d like, honey. Just as long as you finish inside me.”

Astarion grinned at you through the mirror. “Oh, darling, I intend to.” He kissed your shoulder. “As many times as I can.”

You moaned and pushed your ass against his erection. “Asty, please!”

“Patience,” he cooed softly, but he still slipped one finger under the waistband of your panties. He slowly pulled them to the side again to expose your cunt to him. Cool air hit you and the string of arousal still connected to your panties. You shivered, whimpering slightly.

Astarion stepped away from you for a moment, admiring the mess you were making between your legs. “Gods, darling, you’re so fucking wet.”

“Just fuck me already,” you whined.

Through the mirror, you watched him scramble to yank his boxers down. As soon as his cock was free, he pushed the head against your entrance. He looked up at the mirror, watching your eyes roll back as he filled you. A soft moan escaped him as soon as he was fully seated inside of you. He bent over your back and kissed your pointed ear.

“Does that feel good, darling?” he murmured. Your entire body shuddered beneath him, your walls clenching around him. He made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a moan. “Guess it does.”

Astarion wrapped his arms around you and began thrusting slowly. He buried his head in your neck, moaning into you. You panted heavily, whimpering with every slow, deep thrust. You grabbed one of his hands and laced your fingers together, moving to meet his thrusts.

“I love you like this, darling,” he murmured. “This position… You feel so tight around me.” He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. He met your gaze in the mirror and smiled at you, a sweet smile that made your heart melt. You turned just enough to kiss his cheek; he adjusted to catch your lips with his. He moaned into the kiss, one hand snaking up to grope your chest. You whined, pushing your breast into his hand and your ass into his pelvis.

“Honey,” you moaned, the arms holding you up beginning to shake.

He nibbled briefly on your ear. “Do you want more, my love?”

You whined and nodded. He let his other hand slip from your waist and to your clit. He began rubbing gently, adding pressure with every swipe. You moaned breathily, your legs beginning to tremble.

“Astarion,” you moaned, clinging to him. “I love you.”

He kissed the back of your neck. “I love you, too, darling.”

The words became a mantra falling out of your mouth, timed with every single one of his thrusts: “Love you love you love you love you love you love you love you!”

Astarion whispered into your ear, “You’re so close. Cum for me, darling. Cum on my cock. I’ll…I’ll follow you.”

You whined, surrendering to the feeling of his hand on your clit and his cock hitting all the right spots. With a few more thrusts, your moans grew louder, your breaths shorter, and your entire body shook as your walls clenched around his cock. You unraveled around him, crying his name loudly.

Astarion groaned and buried himself deep inside of you, biting his lower lip as he came inside of you, panting. He rubbed your clit until you cried out, overstimulated.

The two of you panted when your orgasms had run their course; he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly, both of you still bent over the basin. You locked eyes in the mirror.

“Are you alright?” he whispered.

You nodded. “Are you?”

“I’m perfect,” he murmured, kissing the side of your neck. “Gods… You have no idea how good that felt, darling. Inside of you. Hells, I… I want to do it again.”

“I told you that you could,” you reminded him and he grinned.

“Bed?” he suggested. When you nodded, he pulled himself off of you and slowly pulled out. Your mixed releases slid down your legs and you groaned in surprise and discomfort. Your slip fell back into place as you stood straighter, your legs trembling even more.

Astarion offered you his hand. “Come here, my love. Let me help you.”

You let him hold you up as the pair of you went to bed, already kissing and giggling again like teenagers. He gently laid you down in bed and crawled over you. He covered your neck and chest in kisses, once again tugging the neckline of your slip down to kiss your tits. He licked your nipple and then sucked on it gently, once again sliding his hand between your legs and rubbing his fingers along your soaked slit.

You curled your fingers into his hair, pulling him back up to you and kissing him heartily. “My turn,” you whispered into his mouth. You wrapped your legs around his hips and flipped the two of you. You straddled his thighs and pulled your slip off over your head.

Astarion grinned, putting his hands on your ribs. “Darling! Aren’t you gorgeous? I could get used to this view.”

You smiled, reaching down to pump his cock. He moaned. “This view belongs to you, Asty, don’t you forget that,” you said. “I’m all yours.”

His hands dropped to your hips as you lifted yourself up and shuffled forward, positioning yourself over his hard cock. He moaned happily as you sank down on him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he threw his head back.

You moaned, putting your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. You began to bounce on him, letting him sink deeper every time you came back down until you were sitting on his pelvis. You began to roll your hips slowly and Astarion moaned loudly, his fingers gripping your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises come morning.

“Oh, honey,” you moaned. “You feel…so damn good.”

He helped you ride him, guiding your hips with gentle hands. He twitched inside of you, his heaving breaths becoming soft, barely concealed whimpers. You smiled as you bounced on him and leaned back to give him a better view as he slid in and out of you.

“You look so beautiful with me inside of you, darling,” he moaned. He grazed his thumb over the bulge of him visible in your stomach. “Gods, look at that…”

“Honey,” you moaned. “Asty. Asty, I’m so damn close already!”

He chuckled. “I can feel it, my love, I can feel that pussy clenching around me. Just cum for me, I want it.”

You huffed in protest. “Not until you do.”

“Darling—”

“I’m taking care of you,” you insisted. “Let me do that for you, Asty. Cum for me, and I’ll cum for you.”

His face softened. “You’re perfect, you know,” he whispered, lifting his knees up to give you something to rest against as you bounced. He held your hip with one hand, then held your hand with the other. His eyelids fluttered, torn between wanting to close them and wanting to watch you, and he let himself relax against the bed.

You brought one hand from his shoulder to his cheek. You caressed his cheekbone softly. “You’re so beautiful, my love,” you murmured, the first of many sweet nothings to encourage him along. “You’re so pretty when you let yourself get lost in me, when you let the pleasure wash over you. Just do that for me, honey, just let go and take what you need from me. Relax here in bed with me, handsome. Finish up, I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’ll help you ride it out. I love you, more than anything in this world. I love you.”

Astarion threw his head back with a loud cry, his hips stuttering up into yours. He came hard, the warmth of him filling your cunt until he began to leak out of you. You sat on his pelvis and reached a hand down to your clit to finish yourself off. Despite his deliriousness and the tears sliding down his cheeks from the force of his orgasm, he slapped your hand away and put his own thumb to your clit until you convulsed on top of him and came on his cock.

The moment he could, he pulled you off of him and into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace and covering your entire upper body with kisses, murmuring an “I love you” between each one. You let yourself melt into his hold, cuddling into him and relaxing even more with every kiss.

You eventually wriggled around until you were laying next to each other, still staring into each other’s eyes. You brushed your hand through his curls, putting them back into place with your fingers.

“Hi,” you whispered. “Feel okay?”

He smiled at you. “Never better, darling. That was…amazing. Thank you for that.”

You kissed his cheek. “Well, I figured it had been a while since I’ve gone for a proper ride on you—it was long overdue, and I thought we’d both appreciate it.”

“You thought correctly,” he murmured. He tackled you in a tight, warm hug. You hummed happily, curling your arms around him and wrapping your legs into his until you were as close as you could get to becoming one. You slowly worked your fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp until he began to very nearly purr. He rubbed your back, occasionally pressing dainty kisses to your forehead, and you returned each kiss with one of your own. Eventually, he pulled back and asked, “Are you up for one more round?”

You grinned at him. “Absolutely, hun. I thought you might have more in you than you were letting on.”

He blushed like he hadn’t just cum inside you twice. “I could have gone without it if you didn’t want to!”

You giggle and drag your finger up the underside of his already semi-hard cock. His eyes rolled back into his head and his entire body shuddered. “Oh, really?”

Astarion whined, the sound not quite human. His chest heaved. “Darling… Gods, that feels good.”

You kissed his nose. “Wanna know what else I haven’t done in a while?” You pushed your lips against his as he nodded, muffling his hum. Into his mouth, you murmured, “Sucked you off.”

Astarion groaned. You took advantage of his open mouth and pushed your tongue into his mouth. You rolled him onto his back again and crawled on top of him, never once breaking the wet, sloppy kiss. You wrapped your hand around his cock as you kissed him and pumped him idly, careful not to set a pace and let him get used to your touch. He whimpered into your mouth, his cock twitching into your hand every time you slid your hand up to his tip. Only when he was hard enough that you knew it was starting to be unbearable did you break the kiss. He whined but let you shimmy your way down his body until you sat between his spread legs.

“May I?” you asked, locking eyes with him as you settled, your face inches away from his leaking cock. You let yourself admire the view of his heaving chest, his entire body flushed with need, his dick red and angry and oh so tempting.

“Y-yes, please,” he whispered, gorgeous with his hair tousled from your hands, his ears pink, his lips kiss-bitten, and his pupils blown.

“Thank you, Asty,” you whispered, pressing your lips to the skin of his V-line. You kept kissing just around his cock, never quite reaching the base, until he twitched and pre-cum began to dribble down his length without you even touching him. Only then did you take mercy, licking him from the base up to his tip and taking his head into your mouth. He keened loudly, arching off the bed like he so often made you do.

Seeing your lover get so lost in everything you were doing and enjoying every second of it made your entire body warm with joy and arousal. The wetness between your legs was obscene for having not been touched or teased for so long, but you weren’t surprised; Astarion enjoying himself was more than enough reason for you to be as excited as you were. His ecstasy was always so godsdamned beautiful—not unusual for an elf, of course, but you liked to think your fiancé was special in this aspect.

You took him deeper, licking the underside of his cock as best as you could as his girth filled your mouth. He whined and bucked his hips involuntarily.

“S-sorry,” he moaned, throwing his arm over his eyes, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You popped off of him for a moment and took his hand. “Don’t be sorry, my love. Take it. Take what you want. I’m here to give it to you, hun.”

He whined again and thrust his hips back up, simultaneously trying to wiggle closer to you. You giggled and took the hint, taking him back in your mouth and sucking. He stayed still for a few more moments, letting you please him, but then you felt his hand in your hair and you paused in your movements. He started to thrust slowly into your mouth, not deep or hard enough for you to choke but enough for you to really feel him in your throat. You moaned around him with every thrust until he became more frantic.

“Darling!” he cried. You glanced up to find silver tears on his flushed cheeks and pulled back, seeing the overstimulation on his face. “Please, my love, I need— I need to fuck you again. I need to be inside you.”

Without a second thought, you sat up and caught your breath from where you sat between his legs. He took a second before sitting up and pulling you on top of him. He pushed inside of you easily and chuckled breathlessly.

“Someone’s wet,” he teased. You didn’t have the energy in you to respond as he started thrusting. You went limp in his arms, collapsing onto his chest and focusing only on the feeling of him pumping in and out of you. He held you tight, both of you clinging to each other as you chased your releases.

Astarion adjusted his legs slightly, lifting himself up, and his cock hit just the right spot. You cried out and clenched around him, your hold on him tightening. He growled animalistically, pulled out of you, and flipped you onto your back. He folded one of your legs up and slid back inside of you.

You screamed so loud you were sure you had woken his parents—and perhaps the entire neighborhood—as he began pounding into you relentlessly. You could already tell you were going to struggle with walking tomorrow.

Between pants, he asked, “Are you okay? Is this okay?”

You were out of breath to even attempt to speak, but you nodded and brought him close enough to kiss you. He took control of the kiss almost immediately, possessing you in every way he could: his cock in your cunt, his tongue in your mouth, his hand gripping your calf. You gave into him, letting him take you, relaxing against the mattress and trusting him with your body.

Astarion took care of you, going only as rough as your body could take at this moment, taking his pleasure but granting you yours simultaneously. Your orgasm swept through you with a vengeance, powerful and hard. You arched your back, screaming as much of his name as you could get out before you ran out of breath, your fingernails digging into his back. Astarion let out a high moan as he followed you before you could ride out the rest of your orgasm. The two of you grabbed at each other, clinging desperately, panting and moaning and crying with pleasure. You felt tears on your cheeks and you honestly weren’t sure if they were yours or Astarion’s.

At last, you came down from your high. You watched him in awe as he finished his, slowly and gently thrusting into you until he was spent. He gently lowered himself on top of you and buried his face in your neck. You laid there, panting, struggling to form thoughts.

“Holy shit,” he muttered into your skin and you chuckled. Your arm shook as you brought your hand to the back of his hand and soothed him with a hand in his curls.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Holy shit.”

He looked up. There was a glassy look in his eyes. “Are you…are you okay? Did I go too hard? Was that too much?”

“I’m fine, hun. You were perfect. Gods, that was…” You whistled, unable to pick a word from your dazed mind to describe what you were feeling.

Astarion giggled. “Yeah… It was.” He snuggled back against your chest, then asked in a whisper, “Can I stay inside you tonight?”

You raised a brow. “Do you want to?”

He shrugged. “If you’ll let me…yes.”

You kissed his forehead. “Sure. Let’s try it, see if we like it.”

Astarion perked up immediately. “Really?”

“Yes, why not? Here—pull out and let’s get cleaned up, then you can spoon me and go back inside, okay?”

He nodded quickly. You cleaned each other in the washroom, Astarion holding you up to keep you from falling on weak knees. He stole kisses as you washed each other and then tucked you back into bed.

“Do you want your slip?” he asked, climbing into bed behind you.

“No, just you,” you whispered. You heard his soft laugh and knew how pleased he was that you wanted his body directly against yours.

Astarion curled up behind you and lifted your leg with a gentle hand. With only the slightest bit of difficulty, he pushed himself back into you. He gave a few gentle thrusts, then settled and pulled you close and buried his nose in your hair.

You sighed happily. “You feel good,” you told him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He kissed the back of your neck. “Good, I’m glad.” He rubbed your side with a gentle hand. “Tell me if it starts to get uncomfortable.”

You nodded. “Think I’m gonna fall asleep before that, actually…”

Astarion laughed softly. “Alright, love. Go to sleep. I’ve got you.”

Humming, you leaned back against him and let sleep take you with him still inside of you and wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

~❊~

Astarion was late.

He should have been home at least an hour ago—but you knew how long these court cases could take. There had been days before where he didn’t return home until after dark. You always hated those days, but he repaid you with lots of kisses and snuggles and a surprise date later in the week when he came home early.

You were getting ready for work in your shared bedroom, finishing up braiding your hair in the mirror Astarion had fucked you against last night. Your core still ached, but your limp had mostly disappeared. You could always fabricate a story for your boss about twisting your ankle or something equally mundane—anything less embarrassing than having to admit your fiancé had fucked you within an inch of your life.

You tucked the last few strands into place and checked your makeup one last time, making sure your very, very dark hickeys were covered. Unlike Astarion, who had left for work with one easily spotted above his collar, you would rather your coworkers didn’t ask questions about your sex life.

Downstairs, the door opened. Astarion! You silently thanked the gods that you would see him before you left for your shift at the tavern. You heard low, murmuring voices and had the impression that the day had been a long, tiresome one. You’d give him a long hug before you left, even if he didn’t want to let go and it made you late.

Selwynn screamed. Plates crashed.

You were running down the stairs faster than you thought possible. You slammed into the door jamb on your way into the kitchen and found Thesan standing stock-still and dumbfounded in the middle of the kitchen, Selwynn on the floor and surrounded by shards of ceramic. She was sobbing. There were two unfamiliar men in the uniform of Baldur’s Gate officials standing in the doorway, somber.

“What happened?” you demanded. “Where’s Astarion?”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” said one of the men, taking off his hat. “I take it you are Astarion Ancunin’s fiancée?”

Knots formed in your stomach. “I— Yes, I am. What…what’s happened? Where is he?”

“I’m sorry, he…” He gained control of the sudden sorrow that crossed his features. “I regret to inform you that Astarion was found dead. Murdered, in fact.”

☞ ❊ ☜

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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

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