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[nerdallwritey]

Cheeks All Flushed (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Unfortunately this chapter was longer than tumblr wanted, so I've split it into two posts. The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading. OR It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (This particular part is 18.5k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.) Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 3 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's read the first two parts!! It means so much to me that you guys are enjoying my writing and silliness. This chapter is much more slice-of-life than the last two parts, in that it's mostly fun at the Tiefling party with less smut. It's also the longest part so far! Apologies to those of you here for vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder of where Part 2 ended, you and Astarion just entered camp after dallying, even though Shadowheart told you not to. Rest in peace, you will be missed.

Taglist: @a66-1, @khaleesiofthewolves, @khywren, @lollipopsandlandmines,

@minestrones, @mizuki-nautilus

It was Wyll who spotted you first. He’d been wandering close to the treeline, gathering extra kindling for the fire, but something told you he’d also been keeping an eye out for you.

“You two are in heaps of trouble,” he muttered, ushering you behind Karlach’s currently vacant tent. “You’re lucky it was me who saw you first.”

“How is she?” you whispered, looking around to see if you could spot Shadowheart.

“I think seeing you might calm her down,” Wyll said, “but be prepared for an earful.”

“Oh please,” Astarion scoffed. “I’ve dealt with worse than an affronted cleric of Shar-'' He stepped out from behind Karlach’s tent and was met face to face with the cleric in question.  

“What was that?” Shadowheart’s hands were on her hips.

Astarion retreated, shielding half of his body behind you. “Hello, Shadowheart,” he waved his fingers delicately and smiled awkwardly. 

You leaned over to Wyll. “Save yourself,” you muttered. “We’ll be fine.”

Wyll gave you a sympathetic look and nodded. “Coming, Karlach!” he called, to which Karlach responded, “What?”

Shadowheart stood before you, looking frustrated and tapping her foot. You adjusted the pile of blankets in your arms. 

“Got the blankets,” you said sheepishly. Astarion raised his pile up a little higher in agreement.

“What was the one thing I said?” Shadowheart ignored the blankets.

You sighed. “‘Don’t dally.’”

“Mhm. And what did you do?”

“We-”

“Astarion?” Shadowheart turned to the vampire. 

He let out a reluctant whining sound. “We dallied.”

Shadowheart looked pleased by his admission. “Whose idea was it?”

You and Astarion shared a look. 

“Don’t tell me, I already know it was Astarion’s,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

Astarion scoffed. “You don’t know that!”

Shadowheart raised a doubtful eyebrow and looked at you. You avoided her gaze. She looked back at Astarion. “Yes I do.” 

“Darling,” Astarion hissed at you.

“I didn’t say anything!” you hissed back.

Suddenly Shadowheart grabbed Astarion’s left ear and your right ear and pulled you both out from behind Karlach’s tent. You and Astarion protested as you went.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Ah! Watch the hair, you heathen!”

Shadowheart flung her arms forward, releasing both of you and sending you stumbling forward towards the roaring fire. You caught yourselves before crashing into the flames. 

“You could have KILLED us just now!” Astarion exclaimed.

Shadowheart ignored him. “Look who’s finally back,” she addressed the rest of camp. 

Lae’zel scoffed, pausing the loud sharpening of her greatsword. “I must give you credit, Astarion, you last longer than I would have thought.”

Astarion straightened. “Thank you, I- hey.”

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to her blade. 

“Sorry, everyone,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “We lost track of time, that’s all.” You adjusted the blankets still in your arms.

“We have nothing to apologize for,” Astarion said, moving close to you and going to kiss your cheek, but thinking better of it when he saw steam pouring from Shadowheart’s ears. “Sorry,” he said to her softly. 

Shadowheart pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head disapprovingly. She clapped her hands together before she spoke. “Okay,” she said and turned to face you, “go wash those blankets and hang them to dry.” You nodded and she turned to Astarion. “Once you help carry those blankets to the lake, you are to help Lae’zel hunt for tonight’s dinner.”

Astarion made to argue. “But-”

“‘But’ nothing. I want the two of you as far away from each other as possible until everything is prepared for tonight’s festivities.”

“Here, here,” Gale agreed from over by the cookware. 

“Oof, tough break,” Karlach smirked. 

Astarion sniffed. “Just because some of us aren’t getting laid, doesn’t mean all of us should suffer the same fate.”

You hid your face in the laundry you were holding and groaned loudly. 

“Watch it, Fangs,” Karlach warned.

Shadowheart took you by the shoulders and turned you towards the lakeshore. “Go,” she said, a bit of a bite to the word. 

“Yes ma’am,” you sighed and started making your way to the waters gently lapping the sand by Withers. 

“You too, Astarion,” you heard Shadowheart behind you. 

“I’m going,” Astarion spat. His footsteps caught up with yours. 

You dropped the blankets by the waterline and grabbed the bucket and soap that you kept nearby for laundry duty, one of your commonly assigned chores. Astarion’s pile of blankets joined your own, then his arms came around your waist from behind, and his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“Sorry, love,” he murmured, kissing your cheek. 

“At least we’re not dead,” you leaned into his caress. 

“You are so incredibly out in the open it’s unbelievable,” Shadowheart called from a few yards away. 

“GIVE US A MOMENT,” Astarion snapped back in her direction. He turned to look at you, his frustration turning into fondness. “I’ll see you soon.” He kissed the crown of your head just as Lae’zel began to complain. 

“Let’s go, vampire. Before someone else steals what is rightfully ours.”

“I’m not anyone’s!” you complained to the sky above you.

“Is it truly so hard to believe that she actually likes me?” Astarion asked as he made his way to his tent to prepare for the hunt.

“You are handsome but weak,” Lae’zel informed. “Far from the optimal pleasure partner.”

“I could make you eat those words,” Astarion teased.

“You would not last a single minute with me,” Lae’zel said and then returned to her own tent to prepare. 

You sighed, embarrassed but not surprised by the camp’s reaction to your delayed arrival with Astarion. There was no talking your way out of it, especially with Astarion’s line about getting laid. The bastard. He could be so annoying sometimes.

At least you didn’t have to dance around it. Even though less than twenty-four hours ago you would have insisted that there was nothing going on between you and the Astarion, now you smiled to yourself, happy that that was no longer the case. 

“Thou hast now a bosom companion-”

“MISTRESS OF REVEL,” you yelped, clutching a hand to your chest to slow the pounding of your heart. You exhaled and turned to see Withers looking more or less unbothered. “You scared me, Withers.”

“Take care that thou are not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.” 

You stared at him. “Gods, you sleep with a guy ONE time.”

Withers stared back.

“Okay, two times.”

The stare continued.

“Okay, so he made me cum, like, five times total, is that what you want to hear?”

Withers said nothing. 

You groaned and picked up a blanket, hiking your pants up your legs. “Whatever, stop looking at me.” You waded out into the water, blanket in one hand, soap and bucket in the other. 

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

“All becomes dust and bone,” you mocked quietly. “You’re a pretty morbid guy, you know that?”

You looked over at him and swore you could see a small smile before his expression faded into one of cool indifference as usual. 

~~~~~

It had taken nearly all afternoon to finish washing and hanging all the blankets to dry on  the makeshift clothesline you’d erected lining the water’s edge, but you’d done it. Shadowheart had been kind enough to cast Lesser Restoration on you to combat the fatigue of blood loss and to help fade the marks still leftover on your neck. As a result, all you’d suffered from washing was some mild back pain from constantly bending to dunk and soap the blankets and standing back up to hang them. Laundry out here wasn’t the easiest task, especially without the proper tools you’d usually find in the city, but you enjoyed the peace that came from the still waters of the lake. Today, you’d been extra thorough in your work and you were pretty sure the blankets were cleaner now than they had been when Astarion had nicked them from your companions in the first place. 

Speaking of your companions, Shadowheart was doing her best to keep Astarion away from you for as long as possible. When he’d come back from hunting with Lae’zel, she’d made him help Gale prepare the meat.

“Even though I can’t partake in the meal,” he’d protested, “I have to help prepare it? Really?”

“Ah, relax,” Gale smacked him a little too hard on the back, “you can drain it dry first. Much easier if you go to town on the creature rather than letting me exsanguinate it myself with a blade.”

“I’m not some personal predator,” Astarion crossed his arms. A beat. “But fine, I suppose I can help this one time.”

After he’d drained tonight’s meal, a large wild boar, Shadowheart had sent him and Wyll to scavenge for more wine at the Blighted Village. He’d complained about the long trek and the poor quality of the wine they’d probably find, but Wyll had been able to drag him off after a bit of flattery and the batting of eyes. The man was too easy sometimes. 

By then, the sun hung low in the sky and you’d asked Karlach to come stand by the blankets and act as a heater to speed up the drying process. 

“Do you miss him already?” she teased.

“Who?” you teased back, adjusting another blanket.

“Do you loooove him?”

You sputtered. “What?! No! I mean- I don’t know! This is new for me, and new for him and we’re figuring things out, we’ve barely talked about it and-”

She laughed at your word vomit. “Was it good?”

You paused. “Was what good?”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “You know what.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart begin to pound. “Can we not talk about this?”

Karlach groaned. “Come on Soldier, I’m so pent up it’s criminal! I know I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance.”

“Karlach!” You whisper shouted. Luckily the others were too busy with their assigned preparation tasks to pay attention to the two of you huddled behind the damp blankets. 

She didn’t say anything, but raised her eyebrows at you to encourage you to talk.

You sighed and avoided eye contact. “It was really good,” you muttered, hoping she might not hear you.

A smug smile graced her lips. “I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, wringing the water out of one of the blankets on the end of the clothesline. 

“He seems like the type who’d know his way around.”

“Yeah, well.”

“And how does he compare? Best you’ve ever had?”

“Um…” You pursed your lips.

“Wait, but you just said it was really good?”

“It was!”

“But-?”

“There is no but! He was really good!”

“You’re hiding something, Soldier, I can tell. He wasn’t the best you’ve ever had?”

“It’s just that… there haven’t been… others… to compare it to.”

Karlach stared at you. “WHAT?!” Her flames erupted to the point where you had to take a few steps back. 

“Shh! Quiet!” You listened for your other companions but heard nothing. 

“Don’t tell me Astarion was your first?!”

“And so what if he was!”

“The smug bastard,” Karlach muttered. Her face grew serious. “If he so much as looks at you wrong, tell me, and I’ll kill him.”

You laughed. “Shadowheart’s first in line to kill him, but don’t worry, I’ll have you waiting in the wings.”

“I’m serious. I’ll kill the pointy freak before he can hurt you, mark my words.”

You laughed again, moving closer to her now that her flames were calming. “Astarion and I are both adults. I’ll be fine.” Your voice went soft, “And I think he truly cares for me.”

Karlach huffed in disbelief. “Gross little vampire probably smelled your virgin blood and couldn’t keep away.” 

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. He likes me.”

“We all like you,” Karlach sighed. “You’re a lot of fun.”

“Thank you.”

“But none of us would want to see you get hurt by the leech.”

“You know, I think he’s more sensitive than you all realize.”

“Astarion.” It was more of a statement of disbelief than a question. She raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Yes.”

“Mr. ‘Tell Me How You’d Like to Die?’ Mr. ‘Describe How I Look in the Mirror and Tell Me I’m Beautiful?’ Mr. ‘I Have A Troubling Relationship with Power Over Others?’” She looked at you pointedly. “Mr.-”

“Alright,” you cut her off. 

“No wait, I've got another.” Karlach held up her finger like she was about to say something. “Nope. Lost it. Damn, it felt like a good one, too.”

“We all have our quirks,” you said, steering the conversion back on track. “Astarion, I think, has a few more than one might deem acceptable, but I trust him. He’s been true to his word about everything so far.” Your voice got small, “And I really like him.”

Karlach blew out a breath of resignation. “I know you do, Soldier.” Her hesitance turned into thoughtfulness. “And he did look pretty smitten when I found you both this morning.”

Your face went red at the memory. “Gods, that was so embarrassing. I still can’t believe we fell asleep out there.” Your brain took a second to process what she’d said. You turned to look at her, a small smile forming. “‘Smitten?’ Do you really think so?”

Karlach rolled her eyes affectionately. “Yes, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Your small smile grew into a smirk of satisfaction. You grew giddy. “You should have heard him, Karlach! He was so sweet, and gentle, and he kept checking in with me, and didn’t make me feel awkward or bad, and his body, oh my GODS, his body! When I say he’s unfairly beautiful, it truly is unfair because, how in the Nine Hells do you get abs like that and-”

Karlach was watching you with a fond smile on her face. She grinned and lifted a hand to stop you. “Okay, okay, I believe you. He took care of you.”

You sighed happily. “He did.”

“I’m glad.” After a moment, she sighed dramatically. “Okay, so maybe he didn’t just fuck you in some sort of weird vampire power play because you’re a virgin.”

“Karlach!” You furrowed your brows. “Seriously?”

“Oh, sorry,” she amended, “you were a virgin.”

You scrunched your nose at her. “You’re so lucky you’re a walking inferno, otherwise I’d punch you so hard right now.”

“You don’t have the guts,” she teased. “You’re too soft, Soldier.”

“I am,” you sighed in agreement. 

The two of you stood in a pleasant silence while Karlach paced back and forth to dry the blankets evenly. 

“I’d hug you if I could, you know,” she said quietly. “I am happy for you. And if anyone is getting laid around here, I’m glad it’s you.”

“Thanks?” you laughed. 

“But if he gives you any trouble, you come find Mama K, yeah?”

You saluted her playfully and she mirrored you.

“Your guests dost approach from the east.”

“WITHERS,” you stomped your foot, pretending to be upset, but smiling over at him. “We need to put a bell on you to remind us that you’re still alive.”

“I am not still of this realm of existence,” Withers corrected.

“You know what she means, skelly boy,” Karlach grinned over at him and then at you. “Come on soldier, let’s go greet our adoring fans.”

Karlach led the way to the center of camp where sure enough, Halsin and the tieflings of the Emerald Grove were emerging through the brush. Halsin caught your eye and waved affably. You waved back, happy to see him looking so well after the rescue from the goblin camp. 

Behind him, he tugged a cart meant for an ox, filled to the brim with food and booze and the eight troublesome kids who’d been kind enough to show you their hideout hidden beneath the Grove. Mol hopped out first, followed by Arabella and Mattis and the others who looked around briefly before zeroing in on the abandoned little temple past the waterfall in the corner of camp. They made their way over to it and disappeared inside.

Noted. You’d have to check on them later.

Suddenly a flash of blue and pink was launching itself at you and you stumbled backwards as it wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Alfira!” you wheezed, returning her hug.

She pulled away, grinning. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day!” She was positively giddy and her mood was infectious. “I need to get some wine in me first, but we must play something together!”

Your smile faltered a little. “I’d love to, but my lute’s a little worse for wear.” You led her over to your tent and gathered a few pieces of the shattered instrument from your bag.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding.” Alfira took the pieces and examined them closely. 

Lakrissa found her way over to you. “Is this one causing trouble?” she asked, playfully slinging an arm around Alfira’s shoulders. “She was buzzing all afternoon about this shindig.”

“Hi Lakrissa,” you greeted happily. “No, I was actually just showing her the state of my lute.” You pulled a loose string out of your bag to emphasize your point. 

“I’ve seen this before,” Alfira took the string from you and inspected it along with the few shards of wood you’d already handed her. “The music overtook you during a particularly powerful song and your trusty instrument suffered the consequences. Did you bash it into a rock in a fit of musical liberation? Been there.”

You gritted your teeth sheepishly. “I wish it was in a fit of musical liberation. No, I kind of got backed into a corner protecting Astarion from a bugbear attack.”

“The mouthy one?” Lakrissa asked.

“You’ve met a mouthy bugbear?”

“No, Alfie, I mean their mouthy friend. The one with the hair?” She lifted her hand up to her own head to try and emphasize the height of his hair. 

“Oh yeah! Hard to keep track of you all,” Alfira shrugged.

You laughed, “Think about how we feel! There’s a billion of you!” You gestured around to the tieflings that were now acclimating to your spruced up camp.

Shadowheart had done a great job of tidying the clearing of fallen branches and mischievous weeds and had gone around making sure that everybody’s tents were in order. With the help of Lae’zel and Karlach, the three had managed to move a large log into the center of camp that was acting as a table that currently housed the booze your party had gathered, along with the food Gale had been preparing all afternoon. 

Gale, as soon as he’d declared the meal to be sufficient, had gone around hanging colorful banners throughout the camp with a few magic words and the snap of his fingers. You’d offered to help him in his effort but he politely declined, citing Shadowheart’s wrath. 

Now Halsin, Zevlor, and a few of the other adult tieflings were unloading the cattle cart and adding their hoard of food and drink to the table. Shadowheart and Gale were already filling goblets with wine and Lae’zel was chatting with (or maybe threatening) a tiefling that you recognized as one of the guards at the gate to the Grove. Karlach waved over at you from where she was talking with Dammon and you returned it happily.

You turned back to Alfira and Lakrissa. “Sorry Alfira, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to play with you tonight.”

“Nonsense!” She took you by the hand and led you and Lakrissa to the cattle cart. She pulled out two lutes and held one out to you. “One’s my teacher’s. I’ll play hers and you can borrow mine for tonight.”

You took the instrument she offered carefully, testing its weight in your hands. It was lovingly worn and smooth to the touch. You gave an experimental pluck at one of the strings. Perfectly in tune. You strummed a chord and minor illusioned Gale’s robes to go from deep purple to a loud, obnoxious orange. 

Gale paused in his pouring of wine as Shadowheart snorted. He looked down at his robes then looked over at you smirking at him. “Hey…” He scolded with no ice behind his words. He addressed Alfira and Lakrissa who were holding back giggles, “You realize you’ve just given her a literal instrument to channel the weave more potently, and now she can make tonight extremely irritating for us all?”

“You missed my illusions,” you teased, strumming again and returning his robes to their royal purple hue.

“On the contrary, we were only gifted about twelve blissful hours without you tormenting us with your tomfoolery.” 

You pouted at him teasingly. “How sad.” You poised your hands, ready to strum another chord. “I could make things so much worse,” you threatened, your voice lowered to a stupid octave.

“Behave,” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows at you, but you could see the amusement that played at her features.

“Fine,” you groaned and turned back to Alfira. “Thank you for this, I promise not to attack another bugbear with it for the sake of the mouthy one.”

A voice sounded from behind you. “The mouthy one?”

Astarion came to stand beside you, his hands clasped behind his back and skin speckled with blood spatter. For some reason, he absolutely stank. 

“Oh gods,” you said, scrunching your nose and turning away. “Did you and Wyll wander into a stinking cloud or something?”

“Hello, dearest,” he purred, pulling you to him and puckering his lips for a playful kiss, but you pushed his face away, avoiding his mouth at all costs.

“Get away from me, freak,” you laughed as he was able to plant a kiss on your cheek with a loud “MWAH.” He looked very pleased with himself. 

Alfira and Lakrissa, meanwhile, watched this display politely with their noses plugged.

Lakrissa gestured between the two of you. “When did this happen?” Her voice was nasally. 

“He’s always been a jackass,” you said.

“She means, love, when did you finally pluck up the courage to confess your undying love for me?” The flamboyant lilt in Astarion’s voice made you smile. 

“This just happened, actually,” you said, pointing from you to Astarion. “The stink is extra new.” 

“Do you like it, darling? A gift from one of the goblins at that Blighted Village. They weren’t pleased we came for their wine, stink bombs were thrown, blood was spilled, a tale as old as time.”

“Did you get to murder a bunch of goblins?” Despite the topic, you spoke to him as if he were a child. 

“I did,” he said, his voice gravelly, his face twisted in a wicked smirk. 

“Good for you. Now get the hells away from us.” You pointed in the direction of his tent. “I don’t know why you haven’t already scrubbed your skin raw to get rid of that smell. You hate things of a vile nature.” You adjusted your accent to sound like him as you said the last bit. “Though you do love gore.”

“I had to share this delightful experience with you first, my sweet. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” You gave him a teasingly sour expression and pushed him off in the direction of his tent. “Get fresh clothes and go jump in the lake or something! Then burn that armor!”

Astarion grabbed your arm and pulled you closer again, much to your dismay and protest. He brought his mouth to your ear. “Care to join me?”

You met his gaze, which flickered down to your lips for a moment, only for a roguish grin to spread across his face. You grew flustered and looked away.

“Maybe later.”

He chuckled, “Can’t wait.” Then he spun on his heel and headed off to his tent.

“Sorry about that,” you said, turning back to Alfira and Lakrissa, only to discover that they’d already walked away. You spotted them pouring themselves some wine a little ways off and sighed. 

“They left ages ago,” Astarion called over his shoulder.

“And you’re still here?” you called back, smiling. 

He laughed and you settled Alfira’s lute safely within your tent before you meandered your way over to Rolan and his siblings who were seated not far off. Rolan was bent over, his eyes closed in concentration. 

“Evening, folks,” you greeted and were met with joyful hellos from Lia and Cal.

“You’re just in time for Rolan’s extremely cool magic trick.” Lia teased.

“That is, if he’d hurry up and do it already,” Cal added.

“Patience,” Rolan said. “Have you no respect for showmanship?” He cracked his knuckles enthusiastically. 

Cal leaned forward and whispered loud enough for all of you to hear, “Having performance issues, Rolan?”

“Hush, you,” Rolan rolled his eyes.

“I, for one, love a good bout of showmanship,” you settled in next to Cal. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Rolan gestured to you, vindicated. “Thank you,” he said through gritted teeth as he looked at his siblings. He took a deep breath. “And…”

A burst of colorful light erupted from his hands as he lifted them into the air.

“...behold!” He exclaimed as the colors faded into tiny bursts of light, dissipating like fireworks.

You clapped excitedly. “Beautiful!”

Rolan looked over at you, clearly pleased. “Adoring applause? You’re too kind.” He bowed dramatically, making a show of his gratitude. 

Lia turned to Cal. “Remember when he could barely cast that?”

Cal nodded. “They grow up so fast.”

Something caught your attention from a ways off. Peeking out from behind the large cluster of rocks you found yourself facing was Silfy; the younger sister of Mattis, the tiefling child who tried to sell you a “lucky ring.” Astarion had halted your hand when you went to give him a coin, shaking his head and explaining that you were being scammed. 

Now, however, Silfy seemed alone. You remembered how upset she’d been when you caught her trying to rifle through your pockets. 

“Never have I met such troglodytes,” you heard Rolan laugh. “Now, pass the wine.”

“I have to take care of something,” you said as you stood up. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before the party’s over,” you smiled and waved, making your way over to Silfy’s hiding spot. 

You saw her see you and duck behind the rock. 

“Hello,” you coaxed gently, bending on your knee to level your height with hers. Silfy poked her head out but looked nervous. “It’s okay,” you encouraged. “You’re Silfy, right?”

She came out slowly and nodded. 

“That was a pretty cool show just now, huh?” You said, referencing Rolan’s trick which she’d no doubt seen. 

She nodded again and looked at her feet.

“What are you doing over here all alone?”

She sniffled. “Mattis was mean to me.”

You tilted your head. “What did he say?”

Silfy looked up at you. “He said Mol would never let me in her Guild in the city because I’m no good at pick-pocketing.” Her voice wobbled and you could tell she was trying not to cry.

You hid a smile. The things siblings fought about… And this particular fight was extra unusual. “Should we go talk to him?” you asked.

“Okay,” she said and watched as you stood. 

“Come on,” you said and took her hand.

Together, you and Silfy walked around the length of camp, passing people as you went. You tossed out polite greetings and a few kind words, but eventually made it to the waterfall and the slippery log that connected your camp to the little temple where you knew the other kids were hanging out. You held tight to Silfy as you crossed the log.

Mol stood by the entrance. “Silfy!” she exclaimed, clearly happy to see her. “There you are.”

Silfy let go of your hand and approached Mol. “Sorry I’m no good at pick-pocketing,” her voice barely audible above the roar of the waterfall a few feet away. 

“Is that what Mattis said that made you run away? Ah, don’t listen to him. You’ll get plenty of practice before we reach the Gate.” 

Silfy stood up a little straighter and looked pleased. 

Mol cocked her head towards the temple entrance. “Get in there,” she smiled.

Silfy smiled back and ran inside. Mol turned to face you. 

“Thanks for that,” she said. 

“Happy to help,” you said, attempting to subtly peer into the temple and see what the others were up to.

“You came through for us. That’s a change from most adults I know.” 

You shifted a little to try and get a better angle. It was too dark.

“What are you guys doing way over here?” you asked absently.

“Watching a bunch of old folks get dumber by the dram-full. And when they run dry… I’ve got a few bottles tucked away to keep things flowing.” She grinned at her own ingenuity. “For a price, of course,” she added. 

“Smart,” you nodded and crossed your arms. An idea had struck you earlier in the evening when you saw the kids slink over here. You readjusted your feet, trying to look like an authority figure but knowing Mol was probably immune to the act. “How would you guys like to get a little practice in, this evening?”

Mol looked at you curiously. “Practice what?”

“Scamming. Scheming. Stealing.”

“I’m listening.”

“One of the men I travel with, the one with the hair-”

“-long or floofy?”

“Floofy, for sure,” you answered almost immediately.

“Right. I know him.”

“Well he considers himself to be an expert at sleight of hand.”

Mol scoffed.

“I know,” you agreed. “I think you should all prove you’re better than him.”

“Easy,” Mol crossed her arms. “How?”

“Here’s my proposal: You each try to take something from his tent or off his person without getting caught. If you get caught, you’re out.”

“And if we don’t get caught?” 

“Depending on what it is you took, I might let you keep it.”

Mol scoffed again. “What’s the point of stealing off him if there’s a chance we won’t be able to keep our spoils?”

You pursed your lips in agreement. “Honestly, I really want to prank him and I think it would be hilarious if you guys took his stuff. He loves his stuff.”

“I do love a good con…” Mol pondered for a moment. “Alright, counteroffer.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Since you happened to catch me in a good mood; we do this for you and we have your sworn loyalty once we establish ourselves as the best Guild in the Gate.” She thought for another moment. “Also two hundred gold.”

You sucked in a breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Mol.” You held out your hand for her to shake. ���But you’ve got a deal.”

“Hang on, you’re not gonna try to talk us out of it? Not gonna haggle?”

“I already tried to talk you out of it back at the Grove,” you shrugged. “But you’re all way too clever for your own good and I know there’s no changing your minds. Besides, it’ll be nice to have some friends waiting for us in the city.” You smiled at her, your hand still outstretched. 

She returned your smile and took your hand, shaking it firmly. “Deal.”

“A pleasure doing business with you,” you bowed dramatically and Mol snickered.

Mol made her way to the open door of the temple. She looked back at you. “I expect to see that two hundred gold before the night is through.”

“I’ll go get it right now,” you said pointing back towards camp.

Mol nodded, satisfied, then entered the temple. You heard her shout as you were leaving: “Alright, listen up! We’ve got a job.”

You smiled to yourself. You didn’t know what had come over you, and you knew that it was dangerous to be negotiating deals with con artists in the making, but you couldn’t help yourself. Especially after Astarion had crowded you in the aftermath of the stink bomb he’d been hit with. You loved watching him squirm and this was a great opportunity to do so. Mol and her gang of tiefling troublemakers were harmless as they were right now. They’d managed to take odds and ends from around the Grove, minus Arabella’s attempt to take the idol from the druids’ ritual. There was nothing currently at camp that couldn’t be replaced on the road. After all, you’d all crashed onto the same beach with nothing but the clothes on your backs. Well, except maybe the artifact Shadowheart concealed on her person, but you had just sicced the kids in the opposite direction towards the vampire. 

You made your way back into camp, stopping to chat with Zevlor and Halsin. 

“Gentlemen,” you acknowledged, trying not to seem guilty after conspiring with the leader of the child criminals a few yards away. “A pleasure to see you both.” You noticed Zevlor was enjoying a goblet of wine, but Halsin was not. “Not partaking in the revelry, Halsin?” 

He chuckled. “I assume you mean my lack of a goblet of wine or a cask of ale?”

You nodded.

“In truth, I rarely imbibe. The stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”

“Oh, ho, ho.” You and Zevlor made amused eye contact. “You sure you’re not a bard, archdruid?” You elbowed Halsin playfully and he chuckled again. 

“You’ve never heard me singing. Which makes you very fortunate.”

Zevlor laughed. “Yes, the singing we could probably do without. It feels so good to see these people smiling, let’s not ruin it. ”

“Then I shall not keep your ear any longer,” Halsin said, holding up his hands in playful surrender. He nodded to you. “There are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you. Go enjoy yourself. Seek out some wine before it runs dry; there are a lot of thirsty people around here.”

Zevlor raised his goblet to you. “Here, here.” You mimed raising your own cup to clink with his. You exchanged goodbyes and the men resumed whatever conversation they’d been having before you walked by. 

Your tent wasn’t far off and you knew you had plenty of gold in your bag to spare for your hired thieves. You exchanged a few more hellos before making it over to your tent. You lit a single candle to help you search your bag in the dim light of your tent and tried to not draw attention to yourself. You started digging through your bag for your coin pouch. 

Just as you’d counted out the last of the gold, you heard Astarion behind you. 

“Here’s my little treat,” he purred.

You stood up quickly, miscalculating where you were located in space and hitting your head against the top of your tent.

“Agh!” you yelped, turning around to face Astarion and ducking to properly exit. You looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t ask what you were up to.

He looked you up and down. “With their cheeks all flushed.” 

“Hi,” you said, not knowing how to respond. 

“Hello,” he smiled, drawing closer. “You’ll notice a distinct lack of blood stains and horrid stench to me.” He held out his arms and spun to show off his fresh, clean appearance. “It’s crazy what a little water and perfume can accomplish.”

“Well done,” you teased. “You’ve mastered basic hygiene.” 

He moved even closer. “Go on,” he said, leaning towards you, “give me a sniff.”

“And smell more rotten eggs? I’ll pass.”

“Come on,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You looked at him skeptically, then leaned in a little and inhaled. 

He smelled just as good as he had this morning, perhaps even better given that he’d just reapplied whatever it was he used to scent himself. You leaned in closer to his throat and inhaled again. It was a clean scent; one that was mature and distinctly male. It was delicious.

“What is that?” you asked, not pulling away.

Astarion chuckled lowly. “You like it?”

You finally pulled back and nodded. 

“Just a little scent profile I concocted to mask the unfortunate smell of death that comes from being, well, dead.”

“Do tell,” you probed, just as you noticed Mattis and Silfy sneaking around, a little ways off, clearly on their way to you and Astarion. You did your best to hide your stare, but Astarion noticed when your eyes shifted back a little too quickly and he looked behind himself. Mattis and Silfy quickly ducked behind a nearby tent. He turned back to face you.

“Thought I saw something. It was nothing.” It was a bad excuse, was what it was.

Astarion narrowed his eyes but continued, excited to talk about his scent mixture. “Mind you, my undead smell is very faint, but it’s nothing a little bergamot, rosemary, and a hit of aged brandy can’t hide. It’s the perfect olfactory disguise for a corpse.”

“Sounds like you missed your calling as a perfumer,” you said, genuinely interested in what he was saying but noticing Mattis and Silfy out of the corner of your eye. 

“I did, didn’t I?”

It was then that Mattis and Silfy approached you both.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mattis said, the picture of innocence. “Silfy and I just wanted to thank you again for finding her earlier.”

Silfy nodded.

“Oh!” you said, doing your best to sound shocked. You bent to get on eye level with her again. “I’m glad you’re okay, Silfy.”

Silfy sniffled and threw her arms around your neck. “Oh, thank you, Miss Hero!”

“Aw, this is too much,” you said, rubbing her back and making eye contact with Mattis. “I’m always happy to help.”

Mattis came around behind you and hugged you as well. 

“Thank you for reuniting me with my baby sister.”

You felt his hand reach for your own and grab the pouch containing the two hundred gold for Mol. He concealed it expertly. 

Both he and Silfy pulled away from you at the same time. “Well, guess we better head back to the others. It was so nice meeting you.” Mattis turned to leave but Silfy lingered.

“Come find us in Baldur’s Gate!”

You smiled at her. “We definitely will,” you squeezed her hands before she shuffled off to join Mattis walking back towards the temple. 

You stood up, dusting off the front of your pants. 

Astarion looked at you with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

You pointed with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction the kids were headed. “That was weird.”

“Why’d you give them a coin purse?”

You sputtered. “Why did I-? Whaaaaat? I didn’t-”

Astarion placed his hands on his hips. 

You sighed and looked at your feet. “Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this, but Silfy was upset because Mattis said she wasn’t good at pick-pocketing, so I went to the kids and said Silfy could practice on me.” You smiled lamely.

“So why did the brother pocket it?” He was onto you.

“I uh… think it was a round one type of thing. So next time it’ll just be Silfy.”

“Uh huh.” Astarion didn’t look convinced. “I’m going to assume you lost some sort of bet with Mol and her fleet of child criminals and that those two are the ones who came to collect.”

“Ah!” you exclaimed. “You caught me! I said I could beat Arabella in a staring contest and lost big time. Like, double or nothing lost.”

Astarion tsked and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You really must stop picking fights with children that you cannot win.”

“I can win,” you got defensive, even though you were lying through your teeth. 

Astarion tilted his head in disbelief. 

“I can!” You doubled down. 

“Mhm.” Astarion leaned forward and kissed you deeply, tilting you back a bit and bringing his hand to your cheek. 

He pulled away and you blinked back at him, dazed. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “You and your weird soft spot for those urchins.” He pretended to gag, as if admitting such things was making him sick.

“Aw, shucks.” 

He groaned. “I’m going to have to insist that you remove ‘aw shucks’ from your vocabulary immediately.” 

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Your eyes went to his mouth.

He flashed his fangs. “Don’t tempt me, darling.” He bent forward to kiss your neck and you tilted your head to give him better access.

“Astarion,” you half protested, “people can see us.”

“Let them,” he hummed against your throat. He moved his mouth so it was beside your ear. “Come to my bed tonight.”

A pleasant chill ran through your body. “I’ve seen your bed,” you sighed, thinking of the wooden pallet in his tent that was often covered with jars of half-drunk animal blood. “Come to mine instead.” 

Astarion growled from the back of his throat and kissed your neck again. 

“Yo, Astarion!” Karlach’s voice called from the food table. 

He pulled back slowly and turned to her, his arms still resting around your waist. “I’m a smidge busy here, Karlach.”

Karlach held up her hands innocently. She made eye contact with you and winked. “I just wanted to know if you’d seen all the wine the tieflings brought.”

“Of course I’ve seen the wine, I procured half of- wait, the tieflings brought wine?” He immediately pulled away from you and marched over to the table, examining the copious bottles of liquor. “So I got a stink bomb thrown at me and it was for nothing?!”

Karlach sucked in a breath. “Seems like it. Sorry, mate.”

Astarion turned back to look at you, clearly distraught by this discovery. You withheld a laugh.

He turned back and picked up a bottle and goblet. “Well, we’ll see who’s the better sommelier: me or the half-fiends.”

Karlach turned quickly and whipped him with her tail.

“Hey!” He stumbled a little, but caught himself. 

“Whoops! Sorry, you can never trust us half-fiends.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Oh,” Astarion backtracked. “Apologies, Karlach. I didn’t mean that.”

“Mmm,” Karlach crossed her arms. Then she smiled. “Wanna get drunk?”

“Gods, yes,” he sighed and uncorked a bottle, grabbing two goblets. He turned back towards you, still standing at your tent. “Care to partake?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’m going to continue with my rounds,” you said, pointing vaguely towards the party at large.

Astarion shrugged and turned back to Karlach.

“Your loss, Soldier!”

“Save me a glass of the best stuff,” you called before walking in the direction of Gale’s tent. 

“No promises,” Astarion sang as you rounded the corner and found Gale at his tent, a goblet of wine in his hand and a half eaten plate of food set off to the side. 

“And how’s my favorite wizard enjoying the evening’s festivities?” you asked upon arrival.

“Ah,” he smiled, “come to turn my robes yellow this time?”

You held up your hands. “No lute. Sorry about earlier.”

“All in good fun,” he reassured. “I did miss your tomfoolery.”

“I knew you did,” you elbowed him playfully and he laughed.

“A beautiful night, don’t you think?” He looked up at the stars. 

Your gaze followed his. “That it is.”

“Nothing like a brush with destruction to make one appreciate the majesty of the celestial canvas.”

“Yes, destruction by cleric would have been a tough way to go.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled and looked back up at the stars. “This is a view I once might have shared with my companion. Though definitely unaccompanied by such revelry.” He gestured over to Danis and Bex, drunkenly giggling with each other not far off. 

He turned back to you. “She preferred it when we were alone, curled up before a crackling hearth with some ancient, esoteric tome between us, ink glinting by the firelight…”

You smiled at the wistful look on his face. “I hope you’re referring to your cat and not Mystra.”

“By Ahghairon’s lost nose- no!” His voice cracked a little as he exclaimed. “Tara is not any cat. She’s a tressym. And given your confusion, I’m guessing you’ve never met one.”

“Guilty,” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“They’re brilliant creatures; fine company for any self-respecting wizard. She’d be most impressed by our efforts saving these tieflings. Proud, even. And I’ve given her little to be proud of recently.” 

“Not true! Gale, you have so much to be proud of.” 

“You’re very kind,” he sighed. “She’s the one who discovered that the orb’s fury could be quelled with magically-infused items, you know.”

“You’re kidding! How’d she figure that out?”

“A lot of trial and error,” Gale laughed, holding a hand to his chest where the orb laid quiet for now. “I can still feel the phantom torment of her claws prodding me. Regardless, after so long being cared for by someone else, it feels good to repay the favor. Not directly to Tara, but these poor tieflings. I’m sure she would approve.”

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I know she would.”

He smiled at you, then looked away. “So… you and Astarion.”

“Me and Astarion,” you bobbed back and forth on your feet.

“He has a certain charm about him, Astarion,” he nodded. “Then again, so does a tiger when it purrs.” He took a swig of his wine.

“Gale, if I did something that led you to think-”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted before you could finish the thought. “You did nothing of the sort. I think I’m just too deep in my cups.” He looked down into his goblet and sighed before looking back at you. “I’m glad you found each other. And better I have this revelation now than farther into our journey.”

“You’ll always be my favorite wizard,” you said, punching his bicep in playful camaraderie. “I hope this doesn’t change things between us. I value our friendship too much.”

He chuckled softly, his hand ghosting over where yours had just made contact. “This changes nothing.” A reassuring smile graced his features. 

Movement to your left on the beach caught your attention.

“Is that Wyll?” you asked.

Gale followed your eyes over to his right. “Ah, yes I believe he’s been pensively staring at the water for a majority of the evening.”

“And you didn’t check on him?”

“I did, but he insisted on being alone. Though I’m sure he would much rather welcome your company than that of a babbling wizard.” He nudged you with his elbow. “But after that, go indulge in the frivolities! They’re good for the heart. And mine will be lighter, to see you enjoying yourself.”

You surged forward and hugged him. He held you tightly while still clutching his goblet. When you pulled away you pointed at him. “You still need to teach me lanceboard.”

“And you need to stop enchanting the pieces to attack each other.”

“I will when it stops making you laugh.” You grinned at him, then waved and headed towards Wyll.

Just as Gale had said, Wyll was standing alone by the water’s edge, past the drying blankets that swayed subtly in the evening air. 

“Thought I smelled you over here,” you said, sliding down some rocks and making him noticeably flinch.

“Oh gods, do I still stink?” He raised his arm to his nose and inhaled deeply. “I fear I’ll never be fully rid of it.”

“I was teasing,” you came to stand beside him and looked at the lake. “Though, Astarion seems to have a promising career ahead of himself as a perfumer if you need his help.”

Wyll chuckled. “Good to know that your new beau smells as good as he looks.”

“Indeed he does,” you smiled at him and he smiled back. 

After a moment, Wyll sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”

“It’s no party without the Blade of Frontiers.”

“Really? I’m honored.” He turned back to face the water. “In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood. And I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.”

“What? Why?” It concerned you deeply that one of your beloved companions was feeling down and you hadn’t even noticed. “What brought this on?”

“I’m a devil,” Wyll scowled. “I love the people from the Grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays. You don’t want a devil at your party.”

You were surprised he felt that way. Mizora had so kindly gifted him his devilish features not long after Karlach officially joined your team well over a tenday ago, and the people of the Grove had long since come to terms with the Blade’s new horns. He was still Wyll; kind, fiercely protective, and above all, a good man. Those who couldn’t see that were fools.

“Claws will pop the balloons, you see,” Wyll teased, trying to lift the mood. “And the sweetcakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue.” 

You smiled sadly. “You don’t unsettle me. Or any of us. You know that.”

Wyll laughed humorlessly. “If only half the world had half the heart you do.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “But off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”

“I suspect you’re the best dancer among us, Mr. Upper City. I’d love to dance with you sometime.”

Wyll laughed. “In truth, I always enjoyed a bit of pomp.”

“You seem like the type,” you laughed.

“I once beat the Baldurian record for the most sarabandes dances in a single evening. Much to the exhaustion of the good ladies and gentlemen of the Gate.” 

“I can see it now,” you said wistfully.

“I had years of lessons, but honestly, it’s all about your partner.” 

You took a step back and bowed dramatically. “Well I hope one of these evenings I might be a proper partner to stumble along with.”

Wyll smirked and bowed back to you. “One of these evenings,” he agreed. He inhaled deeply and turned back to the lake. “I just need some time alone beneath the stars, and I’ll be back to my old self. Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, walking forward and hugging him. He returned it and you squeezed him tightly. 

“Okay,” he jokingly wheezed, “you have my word.”

“Good,” you pulled away. “You know where to find me,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the party. 

“I do,” Wyll nodded, looking at you fondly. 

You turned and called down the beach, “Keep an eye on him, Withers!”

Withers simply stared at you from his spot by the boats. 

You placed your hands on your hips. “One of these days I will crack him.”

Wyll laughed and waved you off. “Good luck with that.”

As you reemerged into the party, you saw Zaki run past you holding a tin of one of Astarion’s hair products. You snorted and looked around to make sure Astarion hadn’t seen. 

No, he and Karlach were still busy downing goblets of wine and comparing them to each other. 

“Bitter!” Astarion exclaimed, sticking out his tongue and pulling the goblet away from his mouth as if it had bitten him.

“Ah, you’ve got no taste, Astarion!” Karlach clapped him on the back. “This one’s better than the crap you served three cups ago.”

Astarion scoffed. “That was a classic vintage! Gods, it’s like you know nothing of fine wines.”

Karlach rolled her eyes. “Um, hello? Ten years in Avernus, mate. Didn’t get much drinking in while enslaved. Anything’s better than fire wine.”

“Tragic,” was all he said in response.

Suddenly Alfira was running over to you. “There you are!” The sweet scent of alcohol wafted off of her and she held a goblet in one hand and her teacher’s lute in the other. “Now, this might be the wine talking, but I’m feeling inspired. Thinking of writing my next song… about you.” 

“Me?” you asked, placing your hands on your chest and batting your eyes. “I’m flattered.”

Alfira nodded. “But I need an angle. Any ideas?”

You thought for a moment, then made your voice pompous. “Let it be only as truthful as true poetry would permit.”

Alfira grinned and matched your tone, “But of course.” Then she became serious, “You achieved something beyond mere fact by helping all of us. That deserves to be remembered.” She shut her eyes for a moment, regaining her thoughts. “Buuuut, like I said, I need more wine before I truly start waxing poetic. Shall we play a song together now?”

“Great idea,” you grinned and started making your way to your tent to retrieve her lute. 

As you passed by Astarion and Karlach, you watched Arabella reach into Astarion’s back pocket and come away with what looked like a few coins. She made eye contact with you and smirked before running off.

Karlach clearly saw this occur and held in a laugh. She looked past Astarion at you and you held a finger up to your mouth, signaling for her not to say anything. She snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Astarion asked.

“Nothing, you just look so stupid when you sniff wine like that.”

“I do not!” he protested. A beat. “Do I?”

You shook your head to yourself as you made it to your tent and grabbed the lute, walking with Alfira to the center of camp by the fire. 

“What shall we play?” she asked. 

“How about a classic?” you suggested, strumming the opening chords to “Bard Dance.”

Alfira grinned and nodded, immediately picking up the harmonies to the song while you took the melody. A sudden whistling caught your ear and you turned to see Volo performing the song with just as much gusto as the two of you. Had he been here the whole time?

Around you, the tieflings and your companions gathered around to hear you both play. They were stiff at first, merely listening and swaying to the familiar tune they’d no doubt heard many times. It wasn’t long before Danis bowed to Bex, who curtsied back, and the two began dancing merrily around the clearing. 

With the ice broken, others coupled off to dance together, and others formed groups of three or four. 

Shadowheart clapped along to the beat as Gale approached her and twirled her around happily. Karlach joined the fray, swinging her hips and waving her arms, but was careful not to hit anyone by mistake. Even Halsin joined in on the fun, awkwardly marching back and forth to the beat and encouraging shy tieflings to join him. Lae’zel and Astarion remained on the edge of the crowd, but you could see Lae’zel tapping her foot to the beat despite her best efforts to remain unaffected by the merriment. 

As your fingers danced over the strings, you sent off a few minor illusions of fireworks to add some dazzle to the performance. Alfira added her own dancing lights to swirl around the audience.

You made eye contact with Astarion who was smirking at you. He made to raise his goblet to you in a toast, but his hand was empty. He looked around himself to see if he’d misplaced it, but movement farther back in camp let you know that it was Meli who had absconded with the cup. You smiled widely at Astarion and shrugged. He shrugged back, smiling and reaching for a new cup. 

As the jovial song came to an end, the audience clapped and a few members approached you and Alfira, thanking you for the music and placing a few coins in your palms. 

“Marvelous!”

“Such fun!”

“Alfira, you simply must play for us on our journey to the Gate!”

“No praise for the wizard, Volo?” Volo complained to an unhearing crowd. He humphed and returned to scribbling in a notebook closeby.

You and Alfira thanked everyone before you handed Alfira her lute back.

“Thank you for this,” you said. “I’d love to play again with you some time.”

Alfira took the instrument from you and nodded. “Oh, yes please!” She looked at her lute for a moment, then held it back out to you. “You should keep this one.” 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” you shook your head. “You’ve clearly had it for a long time. It must hold sentimental value to you. I don’t want you to part with it, I’ll have a new lute in no time.”

“Please,” Alfira insisted, still holding it out. “You play so beautifully.”

“Don’t go inflating her ego now,” Astarion said as he approached carrying two goblets of wine. “She’s annoying enough as it is.” 

Behind him you saw Mirkon run by with a set of thieves' tools.

Astarion handed you one of the goblets of wine and smiled at you. “Hello, my sweet.”

“Hi,” you said shyly, still not used to his full attention but enjoying it nonetheless.

“Oh, stop teasing her,” Alfira said, rolling her eyes. “Tell her how well she did and make her take my lute.” She held it out again.

“While yes, she did play wonderfully-”

You looked at Astarion, a little shocked. You weren’t sure he’d ever complimented your music before.

“-she won’t be needing the lute.”

“See,” you said to Alfira before pausing for a moment and turning back to Astarion. “I won’t?”

He shook his head at you. “It’s taken care of already,” he said to Alfira. 

She understood what he was saying and nodded. “How very kind of you,” she said, smiling. She reached forward and squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure to see you again before we leave.” 

You nodded and smiled as she left to rejoin Lakrissa at the wine table.

You turned to Astarion who looked smug. He turned to face you and grinned.

“What was that?” you asked.

“What was what, darling?”

“With Alfira. ‘It’s taken care of already.’ Did you steal me a lute or something?”

Astarion brought his goblet to his lips, ignoring you.

You gasped, your mouth open in faux horror. “You did not.”

“And if I did?”

“Where?”

He groaned. “Enough questions. Come enjoy a drink with me.”

He took your hand and led you over to his tent. When you arrived, he dropped your hand and held up his cup for you to clink with his. He took a sip. 

“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You snorted. “Bold of you to assume that’s what you are.”

He rolled his eyes and continued. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…”

He held you in suspense as he took another drink of his wine. 

When he pulled the cup away, he scowled. “I hate it. This is awful.” 

“Aw,” you said, walking forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling back a little. “Is this okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded.

You continued. “It’s not that bad. Think of all the goblins you killed.”

“True,” he agreed. “That was fun. Still, I would have liked more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who curated the wine?”

“Yes, but it’s not like I had much variety to choose from. Plus the tieflings didn’t bring anything to write home about.” He cocked his hip to the side, then nodded to you. “Go ahead, give it a taste.”

You stepped back and swirled the wine in the goblet that Astarion had provided for you. You took a tentative sip of the heavy, rich red. It was dry and sharp. To be honest, it tasted like most other reds you’d had before.

Astarion leaned forward a bit to gauge your reaction. “See what I mean? Awful.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Why didn’t you pick a better one, then?”

“Darling, this is the best they had.” 

“How sad,” you sighed, clearly not as upset as he hoped you’d be.

He held up a hand and turned away from you. “None of you have any taste.” 

“I’m sorry, my love,” you brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll have to share once you find something you actually like. That way I’ll know what to look for.”

He sighed heavily. “What would be the point? You probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Rude,” you scoffed, “but fair.” You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?”

Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.”

You snorted. “How’d that go?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.”

You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?”

Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

You looked over to Karlach who was still dancing despite the fact that you and Alfira had finished your performance several minutes ago. She was trying to get Dammon and Zevlor to join her but both looked like they were searching for escape routes. 

You laughed. “Shame there’s no music to accompany her,” you said, half joking.

“An excellent point, my dear.” He turned to bend down, wobbling, but catching himself. He started rifling through his possessions. “Odd,” he mumbled, “I swore it was here.”

“What are you looking for?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He was clearly lost in thought. “Oh nothing, darling. But, um, do me a favor and go somewhere else for a minute.” He waved you away without looking at you.

You smirked. “Okay,” you said, pretty sure he was looking for the lute he’d snatched for you. As you were about to step away, you paused, remembering the gang of young thieves actively stealing from Astarion. “I-” you shook your head. “Nevermind, keep looking.”

“I will, now go away.” He got up to look behind his tent. 

You held in a laugh and made your way over to Shadowheart, who you just witnessed pour herself a fresh glass of wine. 

“Hello,” you said, joining her at the refreshments table and popping a grape into your mouth. The crisp snap of the grape reminded you how hungry you were and you began to fill a plate with food. 

“Hungry?” Shadowheart laughed.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” you said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I missed bread and cheese this afternoon.”

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “And whose fault was that?”

You slowed your chewing and slouched. “Mine.”

“Uh huh,” she took a swig of wine and smiled at you. “I think it’s safe to say you learned your lesson.”

You nodded as you took a large bite off a bread roll. 

Shadowheart took a step back to rest against the table. She surveyed the party at large. 

“Everyone seems to be in high spirits.”

You swallowed heavily and willed yourself not to choke, clearing your throat instead. “You put together a great party, Shadowheart.”

“I know,” she smiled. She shimmied closer to you and nodded over to Astarion’s tent where the man was still searching around, looking deeply confused. “I saw you and Astarion have been reunited.”

You lifted your gaze to Astarion’s tent, your expression melting into one of pure adoration. He was such an idiot. Even though you knew you were the cause of his ignorance. You shook your head, snapping out of it.

“Sorry again.”

Shadowheart blew out a puff of air. “Far be it from me to keep you two apart any longer. Besides,” she nudged you playfully, “blood must still be running hot. After everything.”

This time you did choke. Shadowheart’s eyes widened and she smacked you on the back.

“I’m fine!” you insisted. You cleared your throat and took a sip of wine. 

Shadowheart laughed. “It’s fun getting you flustered.”

“I’m sure Astarion would say the same,” you agreed.

She sighed happily next to you and returned to looking into the party.

“You know who I never thought I’d find myself caring for?”

You stuffed your mouth with a hunk of cheese on a cracker to the point where you could barely get out the word, “Me?”

Shadowheart looked at you and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I mean, desperate people… like these refugees. Never gave them much of a thought. Certainly not this bunch from the Grove. Yet we came through for them. We saved their lives. Odd.”

You nudged her with your shoulder. “I hate to say it Shadowheart, but you’re a good person. Though given your sentimentality, it sounds like the wine is talking,” you teased.

“It’s not talking enough for my liking.” She turned and grabbed the bottle you’d seen her pouring from moments ago. “Share a bottle with me?” 

You looked at her skeptically. “Just a bottle? You’re not trying to poison me for disobeying you earlier, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just a bottle of poison free wine. You’ve suffered enough. Besides, I think you have other plans afterwards. Wouldn’t want to keep you.” She kicked her foot out towards Astarion’s tent which was now vacant, minus Doni slinking away with a hairbrush.

Before you could give her an answer, she was filling your goblet to the brim, despite the fact that you hadn’t finished the wine that was already there. She poured the rest into her own goblet, shaking the bottle to get out the last few drops.

“There,” she said. “Liquid courage.”

She tapped the brim of her goblet against yours and took a long sip. You joined her. Mixing the two wines hadn’t been a bad idea after all. There was a pleasant fruity aftertaste that you enjoyed. You went back in for another sip. 

She watched you as you drank. “Do try to get some rest tonight if you can. Tomorrow’s another day.”

“Yes, mom.”

She smacked your arm. “How dare you! I’m nobody’s mother.” She took another swig of her wine just as Lae’zel approached with her greatsword. 

“Are you aware that the child thieves are taking our belongings from camp?”

Shadowheart choked a little. “Excuse me?” She patted herself down and was relieved when her hand made contact with the artifact still on her person. She didn’t dare pull it out in front of everyone and instead looked at you.

“Oh, that,” you said smiling. “I told them they could.”

“And why would you tell them that?” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” you sat up straighter. “I told them they could only take from Astarion.”

Shadowheart snorted. “What?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be funny if the rogue got robbed by a bunch of kids.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “He is failing miserably at what he claims to be very good at.” She eased her stance and loosened her grip on her greatsword.

You laughed. “I think it’s partially Karlach’s fault. She suggested they both get drunk.”

“That’ll do it,” Shadowheart nodded, taking another sip of wine. 

“Hang on, Lae’zel, were you planning on attacking the kids?” You pointed at her sword.

Lae’zel eyed the weapon, then looked at you. “All children should know how to defend themselves from enemy attacks. I had already killed two of my cousins by the time I was their age.”

You nodded slowly. “Killing isn’t as much of a priority when you’re a kid here.”

“You make that blatantly obvious everyday with your oafish battle stance and shoddy swordsmanship.”

You scoffed and Shadowheart laughed. “I’m a lot better at fighting now, thanks,” you smiled at her, not actually offended. You knew she’d been raised on an entirely different plane, and who were you to judge their customs? At this point in your adventure, you knew not to take her harsh words personally. Even though she was usually right.

Lae’zel looked you up and down. “Perhaps so. I have seen the kith’raki tear a screaming neogi’s legs from its belly to fashion into blades.”

“Ew,” Shadowheart scowled. 

Lae’zel kept her eyes trained on you. “Yet, they could not match your nerve at the goblin camp. It was enough to drive me to madness.”

“Oh,” you said, a bit taken aback. “Thanks?”

“I smell their blood on you still. I smell your sweat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh gods, I thought I washed that all off-”

Shadowheart set a hand on your shoulder and shook her head. You turned your focus back on Lae’zel. 

“I meant to taste that sweat. Pity for us you’ve already promised your body to Astarion.” She crossed her arms, annoyed.

“Ah,” you nodded, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Lae’zel, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” 

“Chk,” Laezel rolled her eyes. “It is your loss. Come morning you will wonder. You will wonder how my lips might have tasted. How my fingers on your skin might have felt.”

You looked down at the ground, feeling guilty for not picking up on her intentions sooner. Shadowheart laid a comforting hand on your back.

“Enough, Lae’zel,” she said. “She was bound to make a choice sooner or later. Let’s respect her decision.”

“And what a foolish decision it was. Astarion can’t even handle a few children. I would skewer them the moment they touched one of my belongings.” She thrusted her greatsword forward as if to demonstrate. 

You swallowed. “Then let’s be glad they aren’t after your belongings.” 

Lae’zel looked down her nose at you. “Let us hope that continues.” 

“Hope what continues?” Astarion approached the three of you and grabbed another bottle of wine, not bothering to pour it into his goblet and instead opting to drink directly from the source.

You shook your head, feigning annoyance. “Are you following me?”

“Darling,” he purred, sidling up next to you, “didn’t I tell you last night that I wasn’t going to leave you alone anymore, especially after we-”

Lae’zel groaned loudly. “I’m going to keep a vigilant watch for any of those whelps stepping out of line.” She turned on her heel and headed back to her tent, but not before intimidating a few unfortunate tieflings milling about nearby. 

Astarion took another swig from his bottle and winced, not enjoying the taste. “What’s with her? Apart from her usual Lae’zel…ness?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, sipping your own wine and feeling warmth spread through your chest.

Shadowheart leaned over to look at the vampire. “Enjoying yourself, Astarion?”

Astarion did a double take, apparently having not noticed her when he first walked up. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you protectively.

“Ooohh no,” he said, “you’re not sending me out on another long errand to keep me away from her.” He sounded whiney, likely from the buzz he was still nursing with the wine.

You and Shadowheart laughed.

“It’s okay, dearest,” you teased, poking his nose. “We’ve made peace with Shadowheart.”

Astarion looked from you to Shadowheart skeptically. “No more errands?”

Shadowheart smirked. “Don’t dally again and we won’t have to find out, will we?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Astarion, who pulled away from you and continued to drink from his bottle. “I suppose that’s fair. But to answer your question, yes, surprisingly I’m having a delightful time.”

You scrunched your nose. “What happened to hating all the attention and the bad wine?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Must you always question the details, darling?”

You laughed. “Yes, evidently I must.”

Astarion waved his hand in the air, ignoring your answer and continuing to address Shadowheart. “It’s been centuries since I’ve been able to really let loose at a soiree such as this without being told what to do or hunting for something.” He wrapped you in his arms again. “Not when I already have my prey for the evening right here.”

Your eyes widened at Shadowheart and you avoided eye contact with her, flustered.

“Astarion,” you muttered as he kissed your shoulder from behind.

Surprisingly, when you looked back at her, Shadowheart had a small smile on her face.  

She addressed you when she spoke. “Seems like you’ve really captured this one under your spell.” She nodded her head towards Astarion who had his nose pressed against your neck. 

He pulled back and looked shocked. “Is that what this is? Have you cursed me? Vile witch!” He smiled at you like a dope. He snapped his fingers at Shadowheart. “Remove this curse, cleric!”

Shadowheart grabbed his hand and set it back at his side. “What you’re not going to do is snap at me as if I were a dog.” She looked at you. “Who knew liquor would make him even more insufferable?”

“We should have accounted for this,” you agreed. 

“I am right here,” Astarion pouted.

You reached for one of his hands wrapped around you and squeezed it. “We know, dummy.”

His slightly unfocused eyes went gooey. He looked at Shadowheart. “You know, Shadowheart, we were each others’ firsts.”

You went rigid under his touch and Shadowheart inhaled her wine by accident, coughing briefly.

“That can’t be true,” she said looking between the two of you.

“Astarion,” you elbowed him.

Astarion scowled. “Oh, perish the thought, she was the first thinking creature I ever drank from.”

Shadowheart nodded slowly. “Congratulations?” She looked at you. “You didn’t drink… his blood too, did you?”

You shook your head and Astarion laughed. 

“No dear, I took her virginity.”

You elbowed Astarion with a good amount of force. 

“I will kill you,” you muttered exasperatedly.

“You will not,” he wheezed.

“I will not,” you sighed, looking up at Shadowheart, whose eyes had gone wide. 

Her expression morphed from one of shock to one of anger. She stood and walked over to Astarion. Her hand glowed with the makings of a guiding bolt. You stood quickly and stepped in front of Astarion, shielding him.

“Shadowheart!” you exclaimed. “It’s alright!”

“He’s a vampiric freak,” she said loudly, drawing the attention of a few party goers. “He’s using you for your blood and your innocence!”

Astarion scoffed and stood, stepping to the side, rendering your body shield useless. 

“How dare you,” he said, stomping his foot. “While, yes, that does sound like me, and was my intention originally,” Shadowheart raised her glowing hand and you held up your arms to stop her, “I did not make passionate love to her for no reason!”

You brought your hands to your face and ran them down your features slowly. This was mortifying.

“Can we keep it down?” you asked quietly.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes and dropped the prepped guiding bolt. She crossed her arms and looked at Astarion expectantly. “And what was the reason?”

He groaned dramatically. “Gods, I only brought it up as a joke for a laugh, do we have to keep it up?”

“Astarion,” both you and Shadowheart warned.

“Fine,” he avoided looking at you. “I like her, alright? More than like her, she’s- well, I don’t know what she is.” He took your hand in both of his own. “But isn’t it nice not to know?”

You looked at each other for a moment, his face soft, but a little concerned. You smiled and brought the back of his hand to your mouth for a kiss.

“So you didn’t bed her for the sake of gaining power from her virginity or something?”

That snapped Astarion out of his focus on you. “What? No, of course not! I’m a spawn anyway, so even if I wanted to I couldn’t.” He smiled at you. “But I didn’t want to!” He added quickly. 

“Nice save,” you teased, ruffling his hair, then thinking better of it and moving it back into place. “Let’s keep our sex lives to ourselves from now on, okay?”

“Gods below, if I’d known she’d react like that-” Astarion looked up at Shadowheart who was crossing her arms and looking at him as if daring him to finish the sentence. He cleared his throat. “Noted.”

Shadowheart shook her head and rolled her eyes before perching on the refreshments table once again.

“If he hurts you, I’m going to kill him and not revive him. And I’ll pay Withers for him to stay dead.”

You patted her shoulder. “I know. Thank you.”

Astarion leaned over to look at her. “To be clear, I don’t plan on hurting her.”

Shadowheart changed the subject. “What were you looking for over there?” She nodded her head towards Astarion’s tent. 

“Hmm?” he looked confused as to what she was referring to, then caught on and perched on the refreshment table again beside you. “Oh, just a little something for our beautiful bard here.” He started playing with the ends of your hair.

Shadowheart returned to her wine. “Couldn’t find it?”

“You know, it’s the strangest thing, I’ve been misplacing things all evening. Must be because of this delicious buzz I’ve got.” Astarion remembered the bottle he’d set down mere moments ago and returned to it.

Shadowheart lifted her eyebrows at you over her goblet. “Strange,” she said with an air of “We know exactly what’s happening and Astarion doesn't.”

You sighed, thinking he’d suffered enough at the hands of the kids. You took his free hand and hauled him up from the table. 

He eyed you curiously but made sure to take the wine bottle up with him. “What is it, darling?”

“Come on,” you started leading him towards the temple. 

“Oh ho,” he chuckled, stumbling a bit behind you, “wanted to get me alone, did you?” He sped up a little and gently bit the tip of your ear. 

You gasped at the sensation and he pulled back to smirk at you. You blinked and shook your head. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to ravish me in there,” you nodded ahead to the temple. 

Astarion caught you by the waist and lifted you a little, forcing you to stop moving. You yelped and he pulled you back so that he could whisper in your ear. “I can take you wherever I damn well please,” he growled. 

You shivered as he set you back down. “As sexy as you are, my love, you’ll see what I mean momentarily.”

You grabbed his hand again and led him across the log bridge and into the temple.

Only to find it empty.

Your stomach dropped. Uh oh.

Astarion sighed. “I don’t see what the problem is, dear.”

He took advantage of his grip on your hand and pulled you back to him, then spun you around so that your back was against the damp stone wall of the now truly abandoned temple. 

His knee came between your legs and he pinned your hands above your head. 

You were too shocked to say anything.

He grinned, and leaned into your ear again. “I could take you right here and right now,” he bent to kiss your throat and moved his thigh to rub deliciously against you. When you let out a small noise of satisfaction, he pulled back to look at you, his voice low, “If that’s what you want.” 

“Astarion,” you whined, closing your eyes and rolling your hips. 

“Yes, sweet girl?” he smirked at the pathetic look on your face.

“Kids, Astarion,” you exhaled shakily as he adjusted his thigh to give you a better angle. 

He paused. “Kids?” Then he chuckled. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, darling.”

You opened your eyes and gave him a confused look. 

He gave you an equally confused look. “I’m dead,” he said slowly, “I don’t think it’s possible?” He raked his eyes over your body and rested on your stomach. “Is it?”

You gently whacked the side of his head. “No, idiot, I’m talking about the tiefling kids.”

“Oh!” Astarion let out a relieved laugh. “What about them? You didn’t lose our entire camp over a game of hopscotch, did you?”

You rolled your eyes and pushed off the wall, looking around for any sign of the kids. It was dark and you couldn’t make out a thing. You groaned loudly up at the ceiling and ran your hands down your face. 

“I shouldn’t have trusted them…” you muttered.

“What did you do?” Astarion asked, sounding prematurely annoyed. 

You ignored him and opted to march out of the temple and up the log back into camp. 

A small laugh rang out from behind Gale’s vacant tent a ways off.

It sounded distinctly childish. 

You huffed some hair out of your face and marched up to Volo who was near Wyll’s tent, still writing in his journal. 

He lit up as you approached. “Aha! There you are! Come now, settle in. I do hope you have partaken in something bracing? This may well take up all night.”

You grabbed him by the arm. “No time.”

He protested as you dragged him towards the edge of camp. “I say! Unhand me! I’d hate to see your name slandered in an upcoming tale of your heroic escapades!” 

You ignored him and spun him to face you. “How loud can you whistle?”

Volo puffed his chest proudly. “I’m surprised you have to ask, given my accompaniment to your performance earlier this evening.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “As loud and as lively as necessary.”

“Great. I’m going to need one sharp, loud whistle on my say so.”

He leaned in conspiratorially. “Ah, drawing attention, are we? Giving a rousing speech? Toasting to your fine accomplishments?”

“Neither.” You cupped your hands up to your mouth. “MOL AND COMPANY.”

The party grew silent.

Volo tilted his head. “Oh. Interesting choice of audience. But, children are the future-”

You elbowed him. “Do it now.”

“Right.” As instructed, Volo lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew harshly, emitting a loud, high pitched whistle.

You saw heads turn to you, as well as the figures of the kids clamoring to look at you from behind Gale’s tent.

“TO ME,” you called firmly, making eye contact with Mol and motioning for her and the others to come to you. 

As the children filed towards you, Volo shrunk back. “Do you need-”

“You can go.” 

“Thank heavens. Good evening.” He tipped his hat to you, then scurried off back to his post by Wyll’s tent. 

Mol came to a stop in front of you, crossing her arms and scowling at you. “What do you want now?”

You looked down at all eight of the hired thieves. Most avoided eye contact but Mol and Arabella, who smiled at you. You crossed your arms.

“It’s time to go over your spoils.”

“What, in front of him?” Meli asked, pointing behind you at Astarion, who lingered behind you looking rather in awe of what was occuring. 

“It’s been long enough,” you confirmed. “You all did very well and I’m very pleased with your efforts.”

You watched as the kids grew smug and shared excited looks with each other. 

Mattis spoke up. “What do we get in return for doing so good?”

“So well,” Astarion corrected.

“Didn’t ask you, did I mate?” Mattis snarled. 

Astarion flashed his fangs in retaliation and Mattis shut his mouth.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Well let’s see what you gathered, huh? Then we can determine.”

Mol clicked her tongue. “I already told ya’s, we have her support when we get to the Gate.”

“Lame!” Zaki exclaimed. “We should get some kind of physical prize or something.”

Doni made a noise of agreement. 

Mirkon shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s nice that we have the support of the hero of the Grove to help us.”

Arabella smirked. “I kind of want to see what else she has to offer.”

You did your best to stay stoic in front of them all, but you were too endeared by their curiosity and felt a smile tugging at your lips.

“Alright cretins,” you teased loudly, “show me where you buried the loot.”

Silfy giggled. “We didn’t bury it, silly!”

“Silfy,” Mattis hissed.

She grew quiet. “Sorry.”

“Be nice,” you warned, resting your hands on your hips. You took a deep breath, thinking about how to proceed. “Alright, first one to show me where you hid the loot gets their prize first.”

“Prize?!” Zaki gasped and Meli was already running across camp.

The other seven raced off after him.

You sighed fondly, choosing to walk after them at a leisurely pace.

Astarion caught up and strolled beside you. “Am I to understand that you had the urchins steal my belongings this evening?”

You clasped your hands behind your back and looked straight ahead. “Perhaps.”

Astarion chuckled. “I’d kill you if I didn’t desperately want to kiss you right now. Seeing your command over those children was really something.”

You cleared your throat. “Later. We need to get your stuff back first.”

He nodded, his brows furrowing. “You seem to like kids. Not just those brats.”

“I do,” you smiled. “They can be the best audience. Plus they’re hilarious in their own ways without even trying most of the time.”

Astarion nodded. “A collective of child criminals is rather funny from an objective point of view.”

“They’re pretty good, too,” you bumped his hip. “Got past our master rogue all evening.”

Astarion tsked. “I blame the wine, darling.”

“I think you’re getting sloppy.”

“Would you STOP FLIRTING and GET OVER HERE?” Mattis yelled from the boats near Withers.

Arabella leaned against the boat closest to the living corpse. “Bone Man here said we could hide our stuff in the boats.”

“Withers!” you exclaimed with no actual anger in the cry. 

“I did no such thing,” he denied, as stoic as ever. 

“Uh huh,” you said, then leaned in conspiratorially to the kids. “He hides our stuff all the time.”

The kids snickered, looking from you to Withers.

“I do not,” he said, his tone holding the same inflection as always. “I hast no need of thine earthly possessions.”

You clicked your tongue. “And yet you require compensation from us whenever we need something from you. Where’s the money going, Withers?”

Silfy giggled.

Withers didn’t budge.

You turned back to the kids. “He absolutely hides our stuff.” 

They snickered again. 

You moved closer to the boat to peer inside. Doni stepped in front of you, blocking your view.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, taking a step back, “who wants to show me what they took first.”

“So you really are going to reward them for this behavior?” Astarion crossed his arms and you ignored him. 

“I got here first,” Meli said, stepping forward with his hands behind his back, “just so we’re clear.”

“You did not,” Zaki protested, “Doni got here before any of us.”

“Doni doesn’t count! He’s the best sneak of all of us!”

“He does count and that’s why he won!”

“Quiet, you two,” Mol said with a bit of an edge to her tone. “Doni did win fair and square.”

“Told you!” Zaki stuck out his tongue.

Meli rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He stepped forward and addressed you. “May I present…” he pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing Astarion’s wine goblet from earlier.

“You little whelp,” Astarion hissed but you held up a hand to silence him.

Meli smirked at the vampire. “You’ll notice,” he tipped the goblet forward so you could look inside, “not a drop wasted.”

Sure enough, the goblet still contained a hefty portion of deep red liquid. 

You applauded his effort and a few of the other kids joined in. “Well done, Meli. But, uh, you didn’t drink any, did you?”

Meli scowled. “Yuck, no thanks. I don’t know why adults like this stuff.”

Astarion bent forward. “I’ll be taking that,” he swiped the goblet back, “thank you.” He took a long, deep sip, then wiped a drop that rolled down the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Who’s next?” you asked.

Silfy reached into the boat and pulled out a small brooch, covered in rubies and emeralds. “I got this from his tent.”

You got down on your knees in front of her again. “Oh Silfy!” you said, in awe of the craftsmanship. “This is lovely! Good job.” You turned to show Astarion.

He looked uninterested. “That was my mother’s.”

You stiffened briefly, then relaxed. “No, it wasn’t.”

He snorted. “Of course it wasn’t. I swiped it off some dead-” You made a face at him and nodded towards the kids, reminding him that young ears were listening, “-teddy… bear?”

“People die,” Mattis said flatly. “We’re not idiots.”

“I’m missing a gods damn eye,” Mol pointed to the bandage around her head.

You sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even trying, you guys are way too smart.” You turned and handed the brooch back to Astarion who pocketed it without question. 

“The smartest,” Mol grinned, looking around at the other seven.

Mirkon stepped forward. “Me next!” he reached into the boat and pulled something out, concealing it behind his back. He looked very pleased with himself when he revealed a set of thieves' tools. 

Astarion laughed once, humorlessly. “I have a million of those.”

Mirkon smirked. “Yes, but only one on your person.”

Astarion’s face fell and he patted himself down. His mouth raised into the smallest smile. “Not bad.” 

Mirkon tried to look cool, but he burst into a grin and stepped back to rejoin the others. You handed the tools to Astarion who hid them on his person once again and took another sip of his wine.

Zaki reached into the boat. “Here’s what I got.” He held out an unmarked tin but one that you recognized as one of Astarion’s beloved hair products.

Astarion spat a bit of his wine. “Give that here,” he held out his hand and Zaki clutched the tin closer to his chest. 

“Why should I?”

“Um, Zaki?” You made eye contact with him and shook your head. 

Zaki sighed and handed it over to Astarion reluctantly. “Tasted terrible anyway.”

You laughed and Astarion sputtered. “This is NOT to be ingested, you twerp.”

“Weirdo man!” Zaki exclaimed in response.

“Oof,” you turned to Astarion, “that’s gotta hurt.”

The kids laughed. Astarion narrowed his eyes. 

He examined the contents of the tin to see how much was left. When he saw that not much had been sacrificed, he sighed in relief. “This is a fine hair product from a particular salon in the Upper City that I was able to snatch while on the road. I only have the one container, if you must know.”

You turned back to Zaki. “Well done,” you clapped for him. “It’s like you stole his baby.”

Zaki blushed and smiled before Doni stepped forward.

He made a small noise and held out a hairbrush. 

Astarion gasped and snatched it from Doni quickly. “This was actually on my person during the Nautiloid crash.” He held it close to his chest. “I had it hidden away, how’d you find it?”

Doni responded with another unintelligible noise.

Astarion looked at the other kids.

Arabella shrugged. “We try not to question his methods.”

You patted Doni’s arm. “Great job, Doni.”

He smiled and Arabella took his place. 

She held out a small coin purse. “Tah dah!”

Astarion bent forward to examine it closer. “Sorry darling, that’s not mine.”

Arabella smiled. “I know.” She loosened the string to the purse and emptied the contents into her hand. A substantial amount of coins fell into her palm. “But these are.”

Astarion gasped and felt around his person again. You and Mol laughed at the look on his face. “Har har, I’d like those back now, please.”

Arabella handed the coins back a little too eagerly.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “All of it.”

Arabella’s shoulders slumped and she reached into the pocket of her skirt, handing him another handful of gold. 

“Work on your poker face, darling.” 

Arabella pursed her lips but nodded. 

“Mattis,” Mol said, motioning for him to step forward. 

Mattis nodded and looked between you and Astarion with a smirk. 

He extended his arms, revealing a dagger in each hand. “Whoa,” you said cautiously, motioning for the other kids to step away. 

Astarion laughed. “Be careful with those, kid.” He knelt next to you, looking Mattis in the eye. He elbowed the tiefling gently in the ribs, but it was enough to shock him into loosening his grip. Astarion caught one of the daggers and expertly grabbed the other one by the hilt and yanked it from Mattis’ hand. 

Before Mattis could even register what happened, Astarion was back on his feet, sheathing the daggers through his belt.

You looked at him with a shocked expression. He raised an eyebrow.

“What? Oh please, I didn’t hurt the child, and now he’s no longer armed. You’re welcome.”

You turned to Mattis. “You okay, Mattis?”

Mattis rubbed his chest and nodded. He looked up at Astarion in awe. “You have got to teach me that.”

The other kids agreed and crowded the vampire. 

He laughed uncomfortably. “There are… so many of you.” He looked to you for help.

“Alright guys, let’s give floofy hair some space.”

“Floofy?” Astarion brought a hand up to his hair as the kids dispersed. 

Mol stretched her arms over her head. “Best for last, I suppose.”

She went to reach into the boat for what you had to assume was the lute Astarion had hidden away for you. What she pulled out made you audibly gasp.

You’d expected something tattered, nothing special. Something plucked from the road by someone who didn’t understand the intricacies and nuances of musical instruments, but you knew you’d be content to make due with it because someone you deeply cared for had taken the time to pick it up and take it home to you.

Instead Mol presented you with a lute that looked like it hadn’t even been played yet. It was crafted from rosewood, giving it a pinkish hue and its surface shined as if it were just polished. Delicate roses were carved into the face and the strings were coiled tightly along the neck. 

“Oh,” you breathed out.

Mol raised an eyebrow. “Okay there, hero?”

You shook your head to break the spell. “I- yes.”

Mol turned to Astarion. “And what does this one mean to you? You had it stowed away so carefully with all those pillows and rags. Must be pretty special.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “It’s um… a gift.”

Mirkon giggled. “For who?”

Arabella crossed her arms. “It’s a lute. Clearly it’s for the bard.” She gestured to you with a nod of her head. 

Mattis blew out an unimpressed breath. “I saw her already carrying one around the Grove. Some gift.”

“So what?” Mirkon argued. “I think it’s nice.”

“So do I,” you confirmed, looking at Astarion, who caught your eye then turned away sheepishly. You turned back to the kids. “Want to know something funny?”

The kids looked intrigued and nodded, a few of them giving “yeah’s.”

You leaned in to whisper loudly and placed a hand next to your mouth as if telling a secret. “He broke my other lute,” you pointed your thumb over your shoulder at Astarion.

He scoffed. “I did not!”

You tilted your head at him disapprovingly. “It’s your fault it broke.”

“I-” he tried to dispute you, but came up short and shut his mouth.

Mol laughed. “No wonder she wanted us to swipe your stuff. Although, seems kinda pointless now.” She handed you the lute.

It was a comfortable weight in your hands and you tested the sound. It would need a bit of tuning, but it was good enough for you to cast a minor illusion of fireworks around the kids, who all looked up in awe. You flipped the face of it up towards you and ran your fingers over one of the rose etchings. 

You turned to Astarion who was avoiding eye contact by drawing shapes in the dirt with the tip of his shoe. “Where did you find this?”

He looked at you and perked up, gaining an air of confidence that you usually saw when he was showing off in battle. “Found it on the Risen Road. Some poor soul perished with it hidden away in their belongings under a bunch of useless junk.” He examined his nails, feigning disinterest. “It was from the same horde where I found my hair product. I suspect some Upper City patriar accidentally stumbled into a pack of hungry gnolls on their way back to Baldur’s Gate. One can only imagine why they were all the way out here. But their loss was our gain.” He laughed airily. 

You stood and held your breath. “You’ve held onto this for that long?” 

Astarion deflated a little, caught. “I… may have been saving it for a special occasion.” He saw you move towards him. “Don’t be weird about this,” he warned, holding up a finger. “If you really annoyed me I was planning to give it to you and then destroy it. The look on your face would have been priceless.” He laughed again.

You ignored his deflection and took one of his hands in your own. “You’ve had this since before we-” you paused. “Since before last night.”

Astarion smiled softly. “I told you I liked you.” He looked away again when he asked, “But you like it?”

You bent forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s gorgeous. I love it. Thank you.”

“Gross,” Mattis moaned. “Can we just get our prizes now?”

You turned away from Astarion to face the kids again. “Right.” You clapped your hands together. “GALE!” You shouted, not bothering to turn your body in his direction, knowing he’d hear you anyway. 

Not even a second later, he misty stepped beside you. “Yes?” he asked. “How can I help?”

“Gale,” you said, your tone implying that you needed him to play along, “the kids did a great job of stealing from Astarion tonight.”

Gale furrowed his brow in confusion, but sensed the kind of answer you wanted. “Oh, that is most excellent news.”

You nodded and placed your hands on your hips. “I think we need to discuss their reward.”

“Absolutely,” Gale agreed. He motioned over to a patch of grass a little ways away, “Shall we?”

“Be right back,” you said. 

As you and Gale walked, you heard the kids talking to Astarion.

“So why do you have fangs? You some kind of demon?”

“My father was a bat.”

“Cool, can you fly?”

“No.”

Gale spun on his heel to face you. “So,” he started, “what’s going on?”

“Fair question. I wanted the kids to rob Astarion.”

“Sure,” Gale nodded. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Thought it would be funny. Didn’t think that far ahead.”

Gale nodded again. “Let me guess, you didn’t want them to actually keep the loot and now you need to satiate their desire for spoils of some kind.”

“You got it,” you confirmed.

He held a finger to his chin, lost in thought for a moment. “Alright. Play along.”

“Can do,” you said and followed after Gale back towards the kids.

“Why would I need echolocation if I’m not blind?” Astarion asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know!” Zaki shouted in the same tone. “You’re the one who’s half bat!”

“Tell me you can screech at least?” Meli asked.

Gale cleared his throat and the kids turned to face you.

“I don’t see no prizes,” Mol said, crossing her arms.

“An astute observation, Mol,” Gale agreed. “That’s because I’m going to summon your prizes from the Astral Plane.” Gale raised his eyebrows at you, talking out of his ass.

“Ooohhh,” you gushed, making what he said seem really impressive. 

“You’ve been to the Astral Plane?” Mirkon asked excitedly.

“Of course,” Gale lied.

Arabella cut in. “How do we know you’ve actually been?”

Gale chuckled. “How do you think we met our Githyanki friend?” He pointed to Lae’zel over his shoulder who was in the process of skewering watermelons with her greatsword as a few others watched.

The kids looked back at Gale, seeming to accept his reasoning.

Astarion rolled his eyes.

Gale rubbed his hands together, his fingers sparking with the purple glow of the weave. Something you suspected he was doing to try to further impress and convince the children.

“Who’s first?” he asked.

Meli was about to step forward, but Arabella stopped him.

“Doni got here first, he gets his prize first.”

Meli groaned. “I’m next, then.”

Gale smiled at the boy before him. “Well Doni, it’s Githyanki tradition that their most skilled warriors receive Crowns of Valor.”

You placed a hand on your heart, further playing along. “Gale! You can’t mean-”

“Oh, that’s right,” Gale nodded. “These young, intrepid adventurers deserve the highest of honors.”

You looked at the kids and raised your eyebrows. “That’s amazing!”

The kids shared excited glances and giggles as Astarion leaned in to you.

“To be clear,” he whispered, “Crowns of Valor don’t exist, right?”

“Correct,” you said through an unmoving smile. 

“And I knew that,” Astarion said unconvincingly.

Gale spun his hands through the air, the purple glow of the weave glowing brighter and brighter until a small, Doni sized crown appeared in Gale’s hands. It was of simple construction, made of tin with pointed peaks at the top, like the paper crowns you would make as a child. Then, Gale moved his hands some more and the crown molded itself into something similar to Lae’zel’s armor that you’d first met her in; polished silver with delicately raised patterns throughout, adorned with shining red jewels. 

“Whoa,” you said, genuinely impressed. 

Gale smirked and lifted the crown above Doni’s head. “I now bestow unto you the Githyanki Crown of Valor. Well done, lad.” He placed the crown on Doni’s head, who smiled widely and stepped back for the other kids to observe. 

They ooh’d and ah’d, a few even reaching to touch it, but Doni brought his hands up to the crown to keep it on his head.

Meli excitedly jumped forward. “Me next!”

One by one, the kids stepped up to receive their incredibly real and not conjured on the spot Crowns of Valor from Gale. 

“Thank you for the lute,” you said quietly to Astarion as the two of you watched the parade of children marching up to the wizard.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “I’m not sure you even deserve to keep it, given that you hired a bunch of children to steal it for you.”

You sighed loudly. “Just admit you were bested tonight and move on. I won’t think any less of you for it.”

He hummed in acknowledgement. “Don’t use this one as a club.”

“No promises,” you lifted the lute to mime hitting another imaginary bugbear. 

When Mol received her crown, the last of the kids to do so, Gale stood.

“Oof, the knees,” he muttered before rubbing his hands together to convey that his work here was finished. “Well then! I believe everyone has been thoroughly rewarded for their hard work.” He looked at you and winked. You mouthed a thank you.

Mol took off her crown and inspected it. “Hypothetically, how much could a Githyanki Crown of Valor sell for?”

You and Gale gasped dramatically.

“Why would you want to do that?” you asked, scandalized.

Mol rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Just tell us how much coin we’d get.”

Gale thought for a moment. “Hypothetically, if it were to be appraised, maybe about-” You elbowed him. “-a lot. Despite the absolutely priceless nature of the objects, you’d probably get a lot of coin.” He sounded pained to be saying such things.

“Excellent.” Mol said, examining her crown and then placing it back on her head. “Now,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “do you need anything else from us? Or can we go? There are drunk adults to swindle.”

“Charming,” Astarion said flatly. 

You straightened. “Yes, you’ve all done an excellent job tonight and are free to go.” 

As the kids were about to leave, you stepped in front of them, blocking their path. 

“No more stealing tonight-” you said and a few of them groaned, “-but it’s fair game again when we see you next. Which will be in Baldur’s Gate when you’re members of a highly respected new guild.” You smiled at Mol who looked at you smugly and nodded. 

“Damn right!” she said proudly. 

The others buzzed with agreement and started dispersing after saying their goodbyes. You hugged Silfy, Arabella, and Mirkon, and waved to the others who promised they’d be careful on their journey to the city. 

You stood back and watched them go, flanked on either side by Astarion and Gale. 

Astarion examined his nails. “Those weren’t worth anything, were they?”

Gale shook his head. “Not unless transmuted tin suddenly gains a lot of value amongst merchants and traders. I’ve been gathering different alchemical items and ingredients all throughout our journey, and that tin that I used was actually from-”

“Ugh, stop talking,” Astarion interrupted. “I merely asked if they were worth anything in case I needed to nick one of them off one of the little roaches before they leave and we never see them again.”

“Astarion,” you whacked his arm lightly. “They’re just kids. And I’m sure we’ll see them again.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” he sighed.

“You could also just ask Gale to make you one if you want.”

“I’d be happy to-”

Astarion held up a hand. “And ruin this hair? I don’t think so.”

You looped your arm through his and watched as a few of the kids retreated into their makeshift headquarters for the evening, while a few others made a point of walking by Lae’zel’s tent first. It was clear they were trying to show off in front of her, but Lae’zel paid them no mind and focused instead on cleaning her greatsword of watermelon chunks. After a moment of them pacing back and forth in front of her, she leered at them and the kids quickly ran back to the temple, terrified she might stab them. Scratch and the owlbear cub chased after them.

You turned to Gale. “Thank you for coming to the rescue. I owe you one.”

Gale smirked. “Is it really a party if one isn’t rescuing their friend from the clutches of their own antics?”

Astarion snorted. “What kind of parties have you attended?”

“Well, I thank you for your quick thinking and skill with the weave.”

Gale puffed his chest. “I am rather excellent at magic, as I’ve said many times over. Though I fear what will happen once those miscreants try to pawn off those fraudulent crowns.”

You shrugged. “That’s a problem for future us.”

Astarion tsked. “Assuming they can catch us.”

You and Gale laughed. 

“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Gale agreed. “I’ll leave you two to your evening. Let me know if you find yourself in any more trouble.” He nodded his head to you. “Good night.”

“Good night Gale,” you smiled as he walked back towards the excitement of the party where Karlach and Rolan were partaking in a loud drinking contest.

Astarion pulled you closer to him and squeezed your hip. “I still can’t believe you did that. After everything I’ve done for you.”

You smiled at him. “Ah yes, thank you for deciding not to kill me every day since you’ve met me.”

He pulled you into a kiss. “You’re welcome,” he said, muffled against your mouth. Unsurprisingly, he tasted of wine.

You pulled away and inclined your head towards Withers, still standing stoically nearby.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I’m not even entirely sure he’s paying attention half the time, what with his distant stare and lack of meaningful conversation.”

“He called you my ‘bosom companion’ earlier.”

“He did what?” Astarion looked past you at the skeleton who made no move to acknowledge either of you. “I’ve barely had any time with her bosom yet, thank you.”

When Withers didn’t respond, you laughed and bent down to get a better grasp on your new lute. Astarion joined you, picking up his recently returned items and turning to face you. 

“Care to join me on a walk?” he asked.

You smirked. “This isn’t part of another plan to bed me, is it?”

Astarion laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He made his voice low and gravelly.

Your face went red. “Aren’t you drunk?” you asked, deflecting his advances as the two of you started making your way towards Astarion’s tent.

“Ah, ah,” Astarion tutted, “I was only ever tipsy. And to be honest, I believe the last of it burned off when the one person I stupidly trust most for some reason, betrayed my trust and stole my things.”

“We got them back!” you argued. 

“Hmm,” Astarion hummed. “Perhaps we should break up.”

You gasped loudly. “How dare you!”

He smirked. “I suppose you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Am I going to regret asking what you have in mind?”

“I can think of a few options,” he said as you reached his tent and he knelt to return his items to their proper places. 

You yawned. “Oh yeah?”

Astarion rose back up and looked at you softly. “Tired, darling?” 

You mentally surveyed how you were feeling. “I suppose I am.”

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. “A side effect of playing hero for dozens of tieflings. Told you it wasn’t worth it.”

You rested your arms over his shoulders. “And it surely has nothing to do with my lack of sleep last night, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” Astarion teased, kissing your forehead. “Go say your good nights.” He nodded towards the heart of the party where Karlach and Rolan were drunkenly singing an old dwarven drinking song. 

You looked at him curiously. “What about you?” 

“Trust me, my sweet, none of them are here to see me.” He tucked some hair behind your ear. “Even though I’m world-endingly beautiful.”

“I think you’ve mentioned that,” you teased. 

“They should count themselves lucky they even caught a glimpse.”

“Alright.”

“I mean, look at me.”

“I got it,” you laughed and pulled away from him, lifting your new lute one last time. “Will I see you later?”

Astarion furrowed his brow. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

You smiled shyly. “I don’t know, I’m still new at all of this.”

His expression grew soft. “As am I. We’ll get the hang of it.” His voice became flamboyant again when he said, “We are the most impressive pair in Faerûn after all.” Then he laughed brightly.

You laughed and turned to make your way to your tent to drop off your lute. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I await on baited breath, my love.”

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (fair) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

[worldwright]

It's the "repeat after me" that always gets me.

The silent, invisible struggle is over. Jon has tried and failed to stop himself from speaking. He has turned the page and his voice is steady and expressive. His voice is Jonah's.

Was there ever a fight at all? Jon has always followed the path Jonah laid out for him. Or was that a lie Jonah told to make his victory seem unilateral? Regardless, the eye's weapon is information, and Jonah wields it with precision and uncompromising force. He always has. And now his favorite plaything is finally ready to serve its purpose.

In some ways, Jonah made a gamble by tossing his statement in the stack randomly. If Martin had seen it before Jon, then they would have known his plan and been much more wary of any future attempt he made. But his calculation was sound. Martin had no real reason to look over the statements, and Jonah knew that his Archivist liked to read them in private.

It's one thing for him to gloat. Villains like to have their little monologue, and an avatar of Beholding especially so. But dragging his confession out of the throat of the one he abused?

He chose Jon as Archivist. He made sure that he went far enough down the path that he wouldn't be able to stop. He made sure that every word out of Jon's mouth sounded uncannily like Jonah's own voice.

But even that wasn't enough. All he really had to do was put his little incantation on the second page and he would have won. But he wanted Jon to know what was happening, and why, and how. And that he never could have stopped it. And after all that:

"Repeat after me."

Jonah had never seen Jon as a person, that had been obvious for a long time. Even so, he had great affection for him. Enough to apply his twisted love to one final act of exquisite cruelty.

[husbants]

Antwerp Preshow if you haven't seen it! 💙

[wlwaerith]

[fishofthewoods]

Oh my god I woke up this morning and my Stardew Valley meta post had almost 150 notes????? Hello?????????? Anyways I started writing this last night because @moon-is-pretty-tonight left nice tags on the original so thank you so much!!

We know from the starting scenes of the game that the farmer's grandfather loved Stardew Valley. So why did he leave? Pelican Town is a good place to grow old; George and Evelyn are just fine. It's a fine place to raise a kid, but maybe he just wanted to raise his child closer to real schools and other children.

Or maybe, just maybe, he understood.

Was there a day when he was in his thirties where he looked at his friends and realized they weren't like him? That he could run faster than them, work longer, explore deeper into the hidden places of the valley?

Was there a day when he went to the wizard to ask him for help, for knowledge if nothing else? Did he learn then that his family was different? Special? Chosen? And how did he react? He couldn't possibly raise a child in the valley if they would be as strange and fey as him. He had to leave. There was no other way.

But years later, on his deathbed, did he regret that choice?

Is that why he gave the farmer the letter?

Is that why they went back home?

When the farmer steps off the bus that first day, the valley is still on the cusp of winter, just barely tipping over into spring. The flowers are starting to bloom, but a chill still hangs in the air. As soon as the farmer's boots touch the soil there's a change. The air gets warmer. The trees get greener. Not by too much, not all at once, but it changes.

The junimos watch the farmer as they do their work. They're new to farming, but take to it with frightening speed; their first batch of crops is perfect. None of the townsfolk tell them that parsnips don't normally grow in less than a week, that cauliflowers don't grow to be ten feet tall, that fairies don't visit when the sun goes down and grow potatoes and beans and tulips overnight. The junimos talk amongst themselves in their strange, wild language, and agree: this is the one. They're back. The valley recognizes its own, even when they've left for a generation. The farmers have come home.

Things change fast in the valley. The community center, empty and decrepit for so many years, is rejuvenated. (Lewis says it was abandoned only a few weeks after the farmer's grandfather left. Strange coincidence, he says, that it both came and went with the farmer's family.) The mines and the quarry, similarly abandoned, are explored for the first time in ages. The town becomes cleaner, brighter, more vibrant, happier.

And it is happier. Not just the environment, but the people. It's the talk of the town for weeks when Haley does her first closet purge. Leah's art show in the town square is a huge success. Shane's smiling for the first time since he moved to the valley. All of them, when asked, say it's all thanks to the farmer.

People love to ask why Lewis didn't fix the community center on his own. Why Willy never repaired the boat to ginger island. Why Abigail or Marlon never went down to fix the elevator in the mines, or why Clint didn't fix the minecarts.

But isn't it so much more interesting to ask how those things were there in the first place? How they got so broken down? If the stories the townspeople tell are true, the valley was once a beautiful place, flourishing and full of life; why did that change? When did it change?

Was it when the farmer's grandfather, the locus of the valley, its chosen representative, left town?

And if so, what happens when the farmer comes back?

[swearphil]

You pierce my soul

[6okuto]

heads up :p

hello. archiving my blog soon. like in the next month or so. not shocking. i still have a lot to queue but i needed to say this so i can't back out for the gazillionth time 😭 i don't have a new blog and i'm not sure if or when i'll be back. as for 6okuto, i probably won't delete it! probably.

thanks for being here for almost 3 years!! it was really nice writing for the first time and getting to know you guys. please take care of yourselves, and i hope you have a good end to 2024! ^^

and just a final request to tell creators you enjoy their work. i can't tell you how many times one kind person stopped me from doing this a lot earlier. please help make tumblr a kinder and stronger community !!

regular pinned - masterlists

[kilometresrufflefuck]

almost two years after the project wrapped i remembered i never posted my piece from @turnabout-cinema, which was a film review of turnabout trump. much love and gratitude to @mintaii for sending me the high quality jpgs featuring her graphic design genius and the lovely gorgeous artistic stylings of @margalcazo / @letsgomargaux <3

by absolute pure coincidence, i was thinking about this zine this morning and then opened up investigations 2 to discover that the final case (the grand turnabout in the fan translation) has been localised as turnabout for the ages. hee hoo! hee hee hooo!

[wolfchans]

JEONGHAN ♡ TO YOU

[simping-on-the-daily]

Why are people so afraid of making the Reader in X Reader fics an elderly person like the actual fucking love interest. It's always that they're younger then the character and that's just...why are people so afraid of making the Reader old. Let them have a beard full of grey hairs and let them be balding let them have kids,,, fuck let them have grandkids. Why is my 60 year old blorbo being paired with a reader in their 20s, or at the least visibly younger. Let Readers be old when they're shipped with old characters

[nerdallwritey]

Cheeks All Flushed (Part 2)

***IMPORTANT! PLEASE NOTE: This is Part 2 to Part 3 (it makes sense, I promise) of my Beauty and the Bard series! Find Part 1 of this chapter here. If you'd rather read it all in one go, it's also posted to AO3.

Summary: “Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.” “Aw-” Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.”  Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers.  “That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.” OR The Tiefling party draws to a close and you and Astarion head to bed.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (this particular part is 4.6k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 Last chance to go back to Part 1 of this chapter!

a/n: So sorry this had to be posted twice. Apparently the banter was too much for tumblr to handle all in one go. Thank you if you made it this far! Your reward is smut! Apologies to those of you here for more vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!)

It ended up taking quite a long time to finish saying your good nights and goodbyes to the tieflings, knowing that they were leaving in the morning and that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to find them when you finally made it to the Gate. 

Alfira had taken an especially long time to say goodbye to, given you were the only other bard she knew currently, and she asked you several questions to aid her in the process of writing her song about you. Lakrissa had watched on with nothing but fondness in her eyes and had hugged and thanked you when it was her turn to say goodbye.

Rolan and his siblings said their goodbyes and Rolan made sure to remind you that he’d be apprenticing under the wizard Larroakan. He drunkenly hinted that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you came to say hi once you reached Baldur’s Gate and you promised that you would.

Danis and Bex had giggled through their goodbyes, swearing that they’d get back to the Grove safely tonight before leaving for the city tomorrow. Zevlor had thanked you and assured you he’d see to it that those who partook in too much wine would be shepherded back to the Grove with sober eyes watching them. 

Halsin had given you a big hug and told you he’d return to your camp soon to discuss next steps for getting rid of the parasites. Meanwhile, the kids bid their goodbyes in a wave of emotions; some were excited, some were sad, and others were indifferent. You smiled at the fact that they all still wore or held onto their crowns tightly.  

Polite goodbyes were exchanged with the other tieflings before saying goodnight to your companions and letting Shadowheart know that you would help with cleanup duty in the morning. 

With a yawn and a stretch, your feet carried you back to your tent. When you arrived, you were mildly surprised to see that the flaps of your tent had been drawn and that there was light flickering inside, brighter than the single candle you’d lit earlier. 

You cleared your throat loudly to make it known you were outside. “Are you decent?”

Astarion chuckled from within. “Yes, darling. Though I’m not sure if it would matter.”

You bent down to enter the tent, pushing through the canvas flaps and finding Astarion sprawled on your bedroll, a book open in his hands. He was perched elegantly among your pillows, looking as ethereal as always. 

“No, no, make yourself at home,” you teased, turning to make sure the canvas flaps were shut all the way.

“Thank you, I think I will,” to emphasize his point, Astarion sank himself further into your pillows. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Reading anything good?”

“Mmm, just some strange eel enthusiast’s ramblings that I found on the road.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “Oh? And what have you learned?”

Astarion sighed dramatically. “Apparently giant lightning eels aren’t technically eels.”

“Huh.”

He sat up straighter, eyeing you mischievously. “Although I was just reading about how they breed in the Sea of Moonshae.”

You snorted. “You’re not seriously trying to seduce me with eel facts, are you?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “You’re weird, I don’t know, figured I’d try it.” He shrugged and placed the book off to the side before extending his arms. “Come here, won’t you?”

You crawled towards him, nestling into his arms and he kissed the crown of your head.

“Read to me?” you asked. 

Before you’d gotten together, you and Astarion would spend entire evenings at his tent reading, either in silence, or to each other, depending on the topic. You’d often try to make each other laugh with silly passages and dramatic readings. It made you look forward to settling in to camp for the night after long days of fighting Mud Mephits and Wood Woads.

He chuckled. “I doubt you’ll like it. I was just distracting myself until you showed up.” He brought his face close to yours. 

You looked back at him in challenge. “Try me.”

He sighed. “Alright.” He picked up the book, still holding you in his other arm. He flipped back to the page he’d left off on. “‘Now, where can you catch eels? Bloody everywhere!’”

You snorted.

“Hush darling, you wanted this.” Astarion cleared his throat and continued. “‘From Neverwinter to Elturel to Calimport - you can find an eel. But where do they breed? And how? Well, you probably heard the stories that they’re just snakes that learned to swim, or they’re baby leviathans, or they’re Underdark spies, but that’s all bunkum.’”

“Not bunkum!” you teased. “And here I thought I knew so much about eels.”

Astarion raised his voice to get you to quiet down. “‘They breed in the Sea of Moonshae, I’m sure, and then swim all over Faerûn. And if those pricks in Candlekeep’d give me money to sail-’”

“Okay, I get the picture.” You took the book from Astarion’s hands and set it beside you.

“Told you, darling,” Astarion settled further into the pillows, bringing his nose against your throat.

You inhaled sharply when he started kissing your neck. “Should I be insulted that you thought it might turn me on?”

“I don’t need some lunatic’s musings for that,” he murmured, lightly dragging his fangs along your flesh. 

You shivered and angled your head to give him better access. “No you don’t.”

He groaned quietly. “You smell divine.” He kissed your neck again.

“You can bite me if you want,” you breathed out. 

Astarion shook his head against you. “It’s alright, love, I’ve had plenty of your blood and wild hog blood and wine today. And you’re tired.”

“How thoughtful of you. But I’m not that tired,” you whined. 

Astarion lifted his head to look at you. “Oh?” He smirked at you impishly.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said innocently, kissing your cheek chastely. In one swift motion, he rolled you onto your back, and lifted himself up to hover above you. 

Your eyes widened at him and his smirk grew wicked. You felt your cheeks flush and you looked away, trying to avoid his intense eye contact.

He bent and returned to kissing your neck, licking a stripe from the column of your throat up to your ear. “Relax,” he whispered, his hands drifting down to the hem of your blouse and pulling it up over your head.

You tried sounding normal but felt your voice catch in your throat. “Wh-at are you doing?”

Astarion kissed the valley between your still-clothed breasts. “Taking my time.”

You hummed and twisted your fingers into his hair. “You’re sending a lot of mixed messages.”

Astarion looked up at you, his tone seductive. “Is it not obvious how much I want you?”

You laughed softly. “No, you’re making that quite clear, but you said you needed time to get used to having a choice. You’re not forcing yourself, are you?”

A small smile graced Astarion’s features before he surged upwards and kissed you deeply. When he pulled back, his eyes were soft. “You’re far too nice to me. It’s disgusting.”

You shrugged awkwardly. “I care about what you want.”

He kissed you again. “Thank you, love, but yes, I’m fine. Tonight was a celebration! And I fully intend on celebrating.” He smirked at you again, flashing his fangs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy. When you didn’t find any, you nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled again and reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it by where your new lute rested against your backpack. He climbed back on top of you and kissed you slowly, his tongue seeking entrance only after a few moments of clumsily moving your mouths against one another’s. His tongue glided against your own, and you moaned, once again twisting your fingers into his hair. 

You felt his hand move behind your back briefly, and suddenly he was pulling off your bra, making you whimper. 

He broke the kiss to look at you, nothing but admiration in his eyes. You shifted your gaze away, still not used to being so vulnerable in front of someone else. 

“Exquisite,” he breathed, leaning down to kiss you again and palming your left breast gently. His cool touch caused your back to arch and you whined when your burning chest made contact with his icy one. 

“Why-” you pulled away from Astarion’s kiss.

“Why what, darling?”

“Why do you think he chose eels as his hill to die on?”

Astarion plucked a pillow out from under you and placed it on top of your face, pressing gently as if trying to suffocate you.

You laughed wildly. “I yield! I yield!”

He pulled the pillow away and placed it under your head once more. “Mention eels again and I won’t hesitate.” 

“No eel talk in the bedroom, got it.”

“Possibly ever,” Astarion amended. 

“You brought it up in the first place,” you pointed out.

“A mistake I won’t be making again,” he said lowly, before kissing your jaw. He kept kissing down your chest until he reached your nipple and pulled at it lightly with his front teeth. 

You gasped and arched your back again, pulling Astarion’s curls and making him moan against your breast. He detached himself to kiss your lips, then brought his head down to your other breast to give it the same attention. His tongue swirled over your nipple at a languid pace, his cool breath against his saliva causing goosebumps to spread across your chest.

“Astarion?” You asked, angling your head to look at him.

He looked up at you, the flat of his tongue licking your nipple. He retracted it before saying, “Ask another stupid question and I’ll bite you.”

You blew out an amused breath. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Astarion reconsidered. “In a bad way.”

You laughed. “No stupid question this time. I don’t think.”

Astarion sighed, resting his cheek on your breast as if it were a pillow.

You brushed a few loose hairs out of his face. “When will it be my turn to pleasure you?”

Astarion’s eyes went wide before settling on something soft. He took your hand currently raking through his curls and kissed the inside of your wrist. 

You continued. “Especially since I sicced a bunch of kids on you and need to make up for it somehow.”

He chuckled quietly. “Thank you, my sweet, but I think I’d prefer to be in control for now, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it’s alright,” you said, resting your hand on his cheek. “It just seems unfair that I’m getting all the attention and you’re getting nothing in return.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s not true. I’m getting plenty of pleasure just from watching you fall apart,” he smirked and kissed you breast again. 

You inhaled deeply, “I’m serious.”

He humphed and pulled away again. “As am I.” When he saw you weren’t satisfied with his answer, he thought for a moment. “Listen darling, it’s very sweet that you want to,” he cleared his throat, “pleasure me, but as I’ve said, I’m still getting used to… well, this.” He gestured between the two of you. “I don’t really want anyone to touch me without my consent. Unless it’s you.” He avoided your gaze, embarrassed to be admitting this. “But even with that being the case, I’d still feel more comfortable focusing on you for now.”

You nodded and took his wrist that was resting next to your head and kissed it just as tenderly as he’d kissed yours. “We’ll work our way up to it,” you smiled. 

He smiled back, then narrowed his eyes seductively. “Make no mistake, I am having a wonderful time with you,” he brought his forehead to yours. “Feeling you around me is probably one of life’s greatest pleasures.”

You blew out a breath, making your lips trill. “Relax, you’ve only been in me twice. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He waved his hand in front of your face. “Ah, yes love, but you're forgetting the fingers and tongue.” He smirked at you when he saw a blush spread on your cheeks.

“Whatever,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “One of these days I’ll make you cum myself.”

Astarion chuckled. “I don’t doubt that,” he kissed your temple. “I await the day.”

“No rush,” you added quickly. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoed, pulling back to look at you fully again. He sighed happily, palming one breast in each hand. “What was it Withers called me again? A ‘boob buddy?’ A ‘breast friend?’”

You groaned and dragged your hands down your face. “My bosom companion.”

He leaned forward to kiss your lips. “I know love, I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“Bastard,” you murmured. 

“But I’m so handsome and charming,” he murmured back, kissing you between words.

“Unfortunately,” you said, angling your head upwards when he moved down to kiss your neck again. 

He hummed along your throat, which sent tingles up your jaw that made you giggle. 

“I still plan on taking my time with you, my dear,” he said, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your pants. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

“I-” you took a shaky breath, still getting used to Astarion’s undivided attention. “Okay.”

“I’m also keen to leave, if you want me to,” he was giving you an out, in case you were still unsure, but his eyes betrayed what he was thinking: I don’t want to leave.

You gripped his wrist. “Stay.”

He relaxed noticeably and hooked his thumbs into your waistband again. “May I?”

You nodded and lifted your hips, helping him get the fabric over your hips and down your legs. He’d taken both your pants and panties in one go, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You bit your thumbnail and looked at him nervously, crossing your legs at the ankle.

“Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.”

“Aw-” 

Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.” 

Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.”

You whimpered, the cool air of the night making contact with your already slick folds. 

“It’s too bright in here,” you said suddenly. “Anyone could see what’s happening.” 

Astarion sat up, having just settled himself between your legs. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. He crawled around, blowing out candles, and you sat up, doing the same to a few that were around you. 

“Better?” he asked when all the light in the tent was out, save for the moonlight that was able to shine through the canvas and the torches that were still lit for the party that was dying down outside. 

“Yes,” you said, resuming your position on your pillows. 

“Good,” he purred, kissing your inner thigh and settling between your legs again. He tapped your thigh lightly in warning before licking your folds slowly. 

You gasped loudly and slapped a hand over your mouth, remembering that the party was still technically going on outside. 

“Shy, darling?” Astarion smirked up at you and you rolled your eyes, whimpering again when he returned to licking you. “But I love hearing you sing for me.”

He began sucking on your clit, making you shriek out a moan. You felt him smirk against you and you wrapped your fingers in his hair as tightly as you could, hoping to give him a taste of his own medicine. Unfortunately, it made him moan into you, sending delicious vibrations through your core and making you whimper again. 

He returned to licking up and down your folds. “If only you knew how delicious you were.”

“Then kiss me, asshole,” you shuddered, feeling his cold breath against your wet cunt. 

Astarion growled and climbed on top of you, kissing you harshly and making sure to slip his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself. He pulled away, assessing your expression. You smacked your lips dramatically. “Could be better,” you teased. “I’m sure I’m nothing compared to you.” You waggled your eyebrows and Astarion smiled, leaning forward to kiss you again. 

“In time, my love,” he promised, kissing your cheek sweetly before returning to his spot between your legs. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and began licking you again.

You reached over for your discarded blouse and bunched it up, placing it in your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“No, no,” Astarion scolded. “Let them hear us. You have the loveliest voice.” His thumb pressed tight circles into your clit and you whined before removing the shirt again. “That’s a good girl,” he praised. 

“No funny business,” you said, not liking the smirk on his face that shined with your slick.

“Me? Funny business? Never.” He lowered his face again and you nearly yelped when you felt his tongue dip into your core.

You squeezed his head with your thighs lightly. “Bastard,” you muttered and felt him smile again. As if to tease you more, he began to make loud slurping and sucking noises. “Astarion,” you whisper shouted, despite your eyes wanting to roll back from the sensation.

“Mmm?” He half asked, half moaned wantonly. His tongue continued entering your cunt while his thumb circled your clit.

“Loud,” you sighed absently, trying to be responsible, but feeling too good to be truly mad at him. 

He removed his thumb and returned to sucking your clit. He pulled away for a second to say, “Watch, precious thing, I’m going to make you cum using only my mouth.”

“You’re not going to talk at me, are you?” you laughed.

“I don’t know,” Astarion said between licks, “a joke made you cum earlier.”

“Shut up and keep tongue fucking me,” you groaned.

He chuckled and squeezed your thighs, sucking again at your clit. 

Tiny moans of pleasure escaped you, and you rolled your hips, trying to get impossibly closer to him. He hummed against you pleasantly, making you whine loudly.

“I love your voice,” he repeated and licked another stripe along your folds. His tongue entered your core again, making you squeeze your thighs involuntarily. He moved your legs apart and further locked his arms around your legs, attempting to keep them still. 

“I love whatever you’re doing with your tongue,” you exhaled, raking your hands through his hair again and massaging the tips of his ears.

He let out a moan that turned into a pathetic little laugh and the sensation sent a shockwave through your core. You rolled your hips again, wanting him as close as possible. 

“More,” you whined softly, shutting your eyes tight.

Astarion returned his focus to your clit, sucking hard and swirling his tongue loudly. He began to hum again, more prolonged this time, and you recognized what seemed to be the jaunty melody of “Bard Song.”

It surprised you, and hurled you closer to your climax. “Astarion,” you whimpered.

“Like that?” he murmured against your clit before continuing his ministrations.

“Keep going,” you encouraged. 

You felt him smile again and he continued to hum the tune he must have heard you play a dozen times by now. He nipped and sucked and swirled his tongue on your clit, all while humming. Your hands tightened in his hair and your legs began to shake.

“Yes,” he said into your flesh, “let go, my love.”

 With a few more harsh sucks and slightly off key hums, you felt yourself reach your peak and cried out loudly for Astarion. Waves of pleasure coursed through you and you felt Astarion eagerly licking around your cunt. 

“So good,” you heard him murmur between licks, “you did so well for me, darling. I adore the way you taste.”

With a sharp inhale, you opened your eyes and smiled down at him, breathless. His eyes were still closed as he cleaned you slowly, savoring your taste on his tongue.

When he opened his eyes, you saw them crinkle at the corners, indicating he was smiling. 

“There you are,” he said as if just noticing you were there with him, getting up onto his hands and knees and crawling over you again. He bent to kiss you and you sighed against his mouth.

“You like my music,” you looked up at him in wonder and wiped a bit of your slick off the corner of his mouth. 

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure that’s a fairly well known song,” he teased.

You made a face and he softened.

“Okay, yes, maybe I’ve been paying attention when you're playing that obnoxious tune.” He brushed some hair out of your face. “It gets stuck in my head, the stupid thing.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, making him gasp in surprise. 

“Thank you,” you said softly into his hair.

You weren’t sure you’d ever properly articulate what you were feeling. All this time, Astarion had been paying attention. He’d whined and griped and moaned the entire time you’d known each other, and yet he’d been paying attention. To you, your music, your needs and desires… He was constantly surprising you with how thoughtful he was. He’d been so sweet with what you’d needed from him last night, and then today you learned he’d been holding onto a new lute for you since before he even admitted to himself or you that he had feelings for you. And just now he’d shown that he had always been listening when you played something for him and your companions. He truly hadn’t propositioned you out of the blue yesterday, he’d cared about you for much longer than either of you realized. 

Astarion laughed, relaxing his body against you and settling his face at the junction between your shoulder and neck. “I’m going to assume you’re thanking me for the excellent orgasm you just experienced and say ‘it was my pleasure, darling.’”

You let out an amused breath and mindlessly traced the raised peaks along his back. 

“You mean a lot to me,” you said quietly.

“Yick,” Astarion said, drawing tiny spirals on your shoulder with his index finger. 

“I know,” you agreed. “Imagine how I feel. You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met.”

“You flatterer, you,” he kissed your shoulder where his face was buried.

You tapped his back lightly and made to sit up. Astarion took the hint and rolled off of you. 

You leaned forward and grabbed his discarded shirt, pulling it over your head. You inhaled deeply. “Smells like you,” you mused, batting your eyes at him before slipping into your loose sleep pants. 

Astarion looked pleased to see you wearing his shirt again, but his face fell when you peaked out the flap of your tent into camp.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked in a teasing tone, but you could tell he was a little nervous that you were actually leaving.

You smiled and kissed him softly. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Take your time,” he said airily, examining his nails, though you saw in his eyes that he wanted you to hurry back.

You kissed him again. “You big baby. Stay right there.”

You poked your head out again, looking to make sure no one was in your vicinity. You saw the backs of Shadowheart and Gale huddled near the entrance of camp, sending off the last of the tieflings with Halsin, while Wyll and Karalach’s tents were shut tight, indicating they’d turned in for the night. Lae’zel, meanwhile, appeared to be meditating outside of her tent. 

Good, you thought to yourself, I’ll make this quick.

You crept out of your tent and made your way to the left towards the lakeshore. You grabbed your now dry blanket off the clothesline, folding it over your arm.

As you were about to grab one you recognized to be Astarion’s, Withers’ voice made you jump.

“I heardest you just now.” 

You slowly turned to look at him, his face as impassive as ever. “Like hells you did, Bone Man,” you said through gritted teeth. “No one will believe you.” You thought for a moment. “No, yes they will. But keep it to yourself. I just got a bosom companion, please don’t ruin this for me.” 

You pulled Astarion’s blanket into your arms and swore you saw the corners of Withers’ mouth turn upwards into a smile, but it may have just been a trick of the moonlight. 

“Goodnight, Withers,” you said, grabbing another of Astarion’s blankets off the clothesline. 

“Sleep well,” he responded. “You likely needest it.”

You scoffed out a laugh and turned back towards your tent, quiet on your feet. You crouched down and went to crawl back in, but found Astarion hovering by the entrance.

“Oh,” he said quietly and moved back to let you in. “There you are,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Miss me?” you smirked, tossing him one of his blankets. 

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. “I knew you’d come crawling back to me.”

You laughed and spread your blanket out over your bedroll. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching you intently as you rearranged pillows so that there were no uncomfortable lumps under the blanket. 

“Making a new nest,” you said casually. You wrapped one of his blankets around your shoulders and laid down. You spread your arms, inviting him to join you. 

He hesitated, looking down at the blanket in his arms. 

“Come here, dummy,” you said fondly, sitting up and taking the blanket from him. 

He scooted closer to you, laying on his side, facing you.

You laid beside him, wrapping the blanket on your shoulders around him too, and spreading the other one over both of your legs. 

“Now what are you doing?” he asked.

“Making us cozy so we don’t wake up freezing. It’s been getting colder at night.” You paused. “Does the cold even bother you?”

He nodded. “I can get very cold but-” he cleared his throat. “You want me to sleep with you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did we not do this last night?”

He smirked. “We did, but I don’t know, we were in the middle of the forest, it’s not like you had much choice.”

“Astarion,” you brought a hand up to cup his cheek, “I like you so much. And I want to fall asleep with you as often as you’ll let me.”

A soft smile found its way onto his lips. “You’re a clingy little shit, aren’t you?”

You huffed and dramatically turned over, facing away from him.

He laughed and pulled you closer by the hips. “Only teasing, love.” He kissed your hair.

You looked back at him. “It doesn’t have to be every night, I know you like your space, and we don’t have to cuddle or anything, but-”

He cut you off with a kiss. “Gods, you love to talk,” he said quietly. 

You pouted. “Fine, then I won’t tell you what Withers just said to me.”

He pulled you closer to him, tangling your legs together and settling his nose onto the back of your neck. “I’m sure it was something archaic and mildly cryptic.”

“He said he heard us.”

Astarion leaned up to look at you. “He did not.”

“He did.”

“Of all the…” He trailed off. “Whatever. Who’s he going to tell?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you laughed. “Everyone knows we’re together anyway.”

Astarion smiled at you and kissed your cheek before lying back down. He sighed happily. “That we are, my love. That we are.”

[glorious-spoon]

Fuck-it Friday

@bucksbignaturals, @wildlife4life, and @sibylsleaves tagged me in WIP games this week! this is from a buck/tommy/eddie threesome fic that i'm gonna try to get finished during the mini-hiatus, because this is apparently the person i have become.

-

"Okay, but threesomes are also kind of, like, logistically complicated," Buck muses.

Eddie rubs at the bridge of his nose. He'd like to be embarrassed, but honestly he's listening Buck talk about his sex life—about the possibility of his sex life including Eddie, at least for a night—and he doesn't have any room left for anything other than the deep, yawning certainty that this is a terrible idea and also that he's probably going to let Buck talk him into it anyway.

That maybe he kind of wants Buck to talk him into it.

"You've had threesomes?" he asks.

"Not with two guys. I mean. Obviously. A couple of times with two girls. Once with one other guy, but that was like—an Eiffel tower situation." Off Eddie's look, he adds, "You know, when she sucks one of you off while the other one fucks her from behind, and you high-five about it? Not that we did that, because it would have been disrespectful. But, like, that kind of thing. Not the kind of thing where you touch the other dude." He pauses, contemplatively. "I probably should have figured some shit out sooner, huh?"

"Yeah, you think?" Eddie manages, and Buck grins at him, bright as the sun. Tommy is kicked back against the counter with a beer in his hand and a little smirk curled in the corner of his mouth, and he seems perfectly content to let Eddie sputter and Buck ramble. Like he also has a good idea of how this night is going to end.

Eddie appeals to him anyway. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

"I think it sounds fun," Tommy says mildly. "But if you're not into it, you're not into it. Nobody's gonna pressure you."

"Yeah," Buck adds, suddenly wide eyed. "I'm not, we're not—I don't want to pressure you, you can tell me to drop it—should I drop it? I'm gonna drop it."

Eddie sighs, but he can feel the reluctant smile tugging at his mouth. "You don't have to drop it."

-

no-pressure tagging @mellaithwen, @homerforsure, @daffi-990 and anyone else who wants to play!

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones - III

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse.

biggest shoutout to @abruisedmuse ♥️ for keeping me sane while writing! ily.

Tagging: @sabrinaacarpenters | @vanserrass | @climb-the-mountian | @positivewitch | @helion-ism | @readthelastpaage | @sarions | @zenkindoflove | @animezinglife | @eastofatlanta | @carolynmezzosoprano | @carnythian | @runningwiththeoceans | @secret-third-thing | @readychilledwine | @clockwork-ashes | @goldenmagnolias | @mali22 | @maidr-00 | @electromagnetic-waves | @thedarkinmansfield | @theeternalstruggle | @devilsfoodcake22 | @the-midnightwriter | @spinachtz | @elizab3th-grace | @ladystarrynight | @highlady-fireheart | @that-golden-lyre | @krem-does-stuff | @lovedbyth3sun | @moonfawnx | @illyrianshadowhunter | @foxybananaaaz | @weesablackbeak | @ladywhilemia | @moobell55 | @alohaangels | @bibliophiliaxvignette | @easchies | @this-is-rochelle |

Find it all here.

Eris immediately knew he had made a mistake when he stood behind her, his hands inches away from her hair. He had been itching to touch her, especially when she kept getting angry with him. He could almost see her driving his own dagger into his throat and in a way his mother would be very concerned, it thrilled him.

He'd always known whoever he'd marry would be his father’s choice and naturally, had expected a snake of a wife, one that wanted his power and influence. He hadn’t expected to find one that mirrored his own survival instinct. 

 “May I?” he finally asked quietly and again, the air between them seemed to go taut. He watched Iris swallow through the mirror, saw her eyes dip for a moment to the dagger in her hand before looking up back at him, and then she nodded. 

Eris paused, even with her permission. Touching her hair seemed to feel too intimate for them. Just being in the same room like this seemed too intimate and Eris had barely touched her. 

Hesitantly, and much more gently than Iris seemed to anticipate, he began pulling out the pins that had been out of her reach and placed them on the vanity in front of her. 

Typically...typically his hand was fisted in a female’s hair. To be pulled. Yanked.  Rarely, if ever, had he touched gently, and it slightly unnerved him to feel so starved that he was reduced to touching her hair so tenderly like an absolute idiot. 

“A question for a question.” she said, breaking the silence, and his lip quirked. 

“A question for a question.”

“You said you were ordered to get married…” Iris began, and Eris’s fingers halted for a fleeting second before continuing. “Why couldn’t you choose your bride? Or say no?” 

Eris hummed softly. How was one to describe the tyrant of a father he had? The one person he fantasized about murdering each day? 

“My father...runs a very tight ruling in our court and household. As I’m sure you’ve heard,” he said quietly, his eyes solely focused on each hair strand that fell loose. “You do as you are told unless you can convince him otherwise. My reasons weren’t convincing enough. I’ve only ever disobeyed my father once and paid dearly for it.”

“What did you disobey him about?” she asked, and Eris tried not to pause again, his eyes hyper-focused on the slight pout in her frown, her furrowed eyebrows. 

 “Ah, ah. My question now.” he replied, tugging on a loose strand of hair gently, and chuckled when Iris scowled. She gestured with her hand for him to continue. 

“How did you learn to defend yourself?”

She was quiet for a moment and Eris watched her in the mirror with curiosity. “I used to sneak in and watch my father’s guard train. I’d wait until my father was out on business and then practice.” 

“By yourself?”

“...With a friend.”

“Oh?”

 Iris rolled her eyes though her cheeks had colored slightly. “I exchanged a few kisses and touches for a sparring partner. It helped me.” 

Eris felt heat coil in the pit of his stomach, a flicker of simmering anger he had no business feeling. “Did he...take advantage of you?”

Iris quirked her brow. “That’s three questions to my one.”  

“But did he?”

“Why do you care?”

Indeed. Why did he care? It wasn’t as though he could do anything about it now if the male had taken advantage of her. 

But then Mor flashed in his mind and Eris frowned. He had paid dearly for pretending he hadn’t cared about her in that moment of weakness. This, here, shouldn’t matter to him. Yet, he asked once more.

“Did he?”

Pursing her lips, Iris sighed. “No. I enjoyed the attention and allowed it. We didn’t get too far anyway. My father found out and banished him then beat me.” she explained, and Eris could see right through the nonchalant shrug she gave. “I wasn’t allowed to shame him by fucking the middle class. I was being saved for a prince.”

She gave him a sarcastic smile here and Eris tried not to smirk. “Thank you, wife. I’ll gladly take the burden of your maidenhood off your hands as soon as we get you out of this dress.”

“Please go toss yourself out of the highest window.”

“I can’t. I must insist on only dying by your hands.”

“Then death is near, husband.”

Eris chuckled, fingers stilling again as he pulled the last pin, watching as her hair cascaded down her back, desperately trying not to think about the feel of it between his fingers. “I’d believe you except you still need help with your dress.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Once you’re dead, I’ll just tear it off, it’s fine.” she replied, watching his hands still inches away from her hair. “I’ll be a widow. They’ll think I ripped it apart in my grief.”

“Not that I ravished you and then died of bliss?”

Shooting him a glare, she held up the dagger. “Answer my questions. You owe me three.”

Eris rolled his eyes but with one final glance at her hair, he moved away, leaning against the vanity and faced her.

“To answer your earlier question, you must have heard about my brother Lucien and his former lover?”

Iris nodded solemnly. Everyone had heard about that. It was one of the many reasons everyone hated Beron.

“Well, I refused to participate and warned Tamlin about Lucien. Naturally, my father did not appreciate the disobedience,” he said, and Iris sat back in her chair, dagger still in hand.

“Is that why he didn’t come to the wedding?” 

“My father’s death will be the only reason Lucien would come here willingly,” he replied with a snort, crossing his arms. “He and his mate have invited us over for lunch whenever you’re up for it. You can meet them then.”

“Assuming I don’t slit your throat in your sleep, of course?” she said with a pleasant smile and Eris chuckled.

“Of course.” he replied with a gracious nod of his head. “Now answer my questions, wife. Tell me about your father.” he requested.

Iris pursed her lips, a finger stroking the edge of the blade. “My father...as charming as he claims to be with everyone outside of my household...Lord Aron thrives on control.” she began, running her free hand through her loose hair. “My mother’s death was not in his control. Having me was not in his control.” Iris met his gaze. “When my mother died giving birth...He loved her in his twisted way more than he wanted me so naturally, I was the worst thing that happened to him. Especially when he wanted a son.” 

“So, I assume he raised you with all the love he knew your mother would want you to have?” Eris said and the corner of Iris’s mouth curved up at the sarcasm. 

“Oh yes.” she said quietly, and her expression tightened. “Your back…?’ 

Eris waved a hand. “Gifts.” 

“But...why?” she asked quietly, her eyes locked on his. 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked first.” 

Eris’s lips went into a thin line and he rubbed a finger to it, debating how honest he should be with her. Judging by the hardened look in her eyes, it felt pointless to deny it.

“They weren’t all meant to be mine, but I got in the way often enough.” he said quietly and at the way her face fell, he knew she was aware of who he meant. He watched her throat bob.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Iris replied and pushed the chair back, standing. “Help me with my dress. I’m tired.” 

Eris cocked his head and blinked. “Why?” 

“Why what?” she asked wearily, looking over her shoulder at him before facing the mirror and Eris frowned, unsure how to ask her to continue.

Why was he asking? He knew his family was miserable. Her life had clearly been the same. It didn’t help that his mother taking the brunt of his father’s abuse seemed to mirror the fear she likely had for herself with him. His frown deepened and Eris flexed his fingers. All these years with his parents had only solidified his stance to never harm a female. The only black spot on his record was Mor and the real story will always stay between the two of them until Mor decided otherwise. 

“Never mind.” he finally said and attempted his previous bravado. “It’s time to unwrap you, wife.” 

Iris narrowed her eyes at him through the mirror and slowly held up the dagger again. “One wrong move, Vanserra.” 

He chuckled, though it had lost some of its mirth. “I’ll behave.” 

With her eyes still locked on his, Iris moved her hair to the side and said nothing, though Eris noticed the tension had returned to her body. He glanced at her for just a brief moment then his gaze fell to her back and the ties holding her dress together. The white gown she wore hugged her figure snuggly — beautifully, and Eris appreciated the chance to admire it again.

Slowly, carefully, his hand found its way to the top and his fingers gently pulled on the knotted ties. 

He hesitated then.  

Eris knew he shouldn’t be nervous to help her with her dress. He had taken dresses off the bodies of many beautiful females in his life. This should be nothing. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, and he looked up, meeting her eyes briefly before bringing it back to the dress.

“Nothing.” was all he said and focused on the ties. Carefully, he slipped his fingers beneath each ribbon tying the top together, and pulled to loosen them. Eris felt her stiffening as he made contact with her back, a small breath escaping her lips and he froze, meeting her gaze again in the mirror. Iris flushed and Eris’s eyes zeroed in on the bob of her throat. He lifted a brow and spoke softly, “May I continue?”

Iris looked away from him but nodded all the same and it took Eris a moment to tear his gaze from the flush of her cheeks and back to the dress. If this was the only time he was going to touch her for a while...it seemed wise for him to take his time. Wise to drink in the sight of the soft curls of her hair that fell to the side, the exposed long neck. It was the most skin he was seeing of hers and oh...the flush of color against her olive skin ignited a feeling of longing in him. 

A longing for something normal. 

Leave it to his father to find him a breathtaking wife who wanted nothing to do with him. 

Working at an even slower pace, Eris slipped one finger at a time between each ribbon of the corset and pulled gently, Iris backing into him with each tug.

“Don’t yank.” she said, a slight breathlessness to her words as she pulled away slightly, finally letting go of the dagger and bracing her hands on the vanity. “You’ll ruin it.”

“You have no idea how badly I want to, wife.” he replied softly and pulled the last ribbon treacherously slowly. Much to his agonizing dismay, she wasn’t wearing anything under it. 

Eris took in the bare skin that the dress exposed, from the top of her back down to the dip and he wondered if she could hear the pounding of his heart, and feel the heat of his gaze on her lovely skin – no scar in sight, unlike his own. Before Eris could stop himself, his fingers traveled down the bareness of her back and a shock zipped through his body.  

He heard her gasp and whip around, holding her hands across her chest to keep her dress from slipping and stared at him with wide eyes. 

“Don’t.” she whispered to him, but Eris could only stare at her. He stared and slowly leaned in closer, letting his hands settle on the vanity she was leaning against, caged between his arms. 

They silently stared at one another, a different kind of tension between them now.  

Eris stared, his expression stoic as he drank in every one of her features. The sharp cheekbones, the lovely nose, her parted lips. His eyes fell to the now exposed collarbones and he had to clamp down on the sudden urge to lean in closer and lick them. 

His amber eyes found her hazel ones, reading the mistrust in them, the hesitation — but he could only think of one thing to say. 

In the softest of murmurs, he spoke, “I don’t think I was given the chance to tell you how beautiful you are, Iris.”

Iris blinked and her flush deepened as she frowned slightly. “Thank you. You can back away now.” she replied and the corner of his mouth quirked up, leaning in even closer.

“But I would prefer not to.” he whispered, and Eris regretted standing there shirtless, positive she could see the goosebumps on his flesh that matched the ones on her skin.

“I don’t really care.” she whispered in return and Eris tilted his head in amusement, the space between their lips even closer. 

“But wife?” his voice still soft, barely above a whisper and Iris clenched her jaw, roses blooming on her cheeks.

“What?”

“I would really like to kiss you.” he requested, and was mesmerized watching the changes in her expression. The widening of her eyes in surprise, the attraction she seemed to be fighting, and lastly, when her expression hardened.

“No.” 

“No?”

"No.”

 Eris hummed in thought, unsure if he could hold back his smirk as she shifted between his arms. “Why?” he asked, the question practically a whine. “We are married after all.” 

Iris met his gaze, her eyes flicking to his lips for a second before she looked at him again. “You’ll only end up wanting more.” she replied quietly. 

“And is that so wrong?” he asked, his hand coming up to gently brush her hair behind her ear but froze when she flinched. 

His eyes narrowed, his hand midair as Iris flushed, glaring at him.  

Firmly, and not breaking his gaze, Iris lowered his hand to his side and held it there. “Don’t.” she repeated, and Eris pursed his lips. 

“Are you afraid of me, little gazelle?”

“Trust isn’t so easily earned.” 

And the two stared at each other, seizing each other up for what felt like the millionth time that evening. They shared a heated gaze, her hand still on his.

“I’m sure a kiss could persuade you to change your mind.” Eris proposed and leaned even closer to her.

 “You seem desperate, husband.” she replied and against every instinct, leaned closer to him as well. “The scent of your lust is filling the room.”

“You should be flattered.”

“I’m disgusted.” 

“The flush of your cheeks tells me you’re a liar.”

Iris rolled her eyes and finally shoved him away as Eris chuckled. “I am flushed in anger. Don’t think so highly of yourself. I’ve only known you for a few hours and you’re very annoying.”

“Why thank you, darling wife.” he said, and he only allowed himself a small smile before turning to watch her walking towards the closet. “Do you need additional help?” 

“No. I need something to sleep in.” she replied, a hand still holding up her dress, the other opening the closet door.  

“Oh, I took the liberty of choosing something for you to sleep in.” Eris said, running a hand through his hair, watching her. “It’s on the bed.”

His lips twitched slightly as Iris’s gaze moved to the bed and she blinked in confusion.

“There’s... nothing there.” she said, squinting at him and Eris waved a hand.

“Nothing will look fantastic on you.”

Her expression flattened and Iris looked to the dagger still on the vanity, far away from her and Eris grinned when she settled on flipping him off with a glare. “Go fuck yourself.” 

“I’d much rather fuck you, wife.” he said with a chuckle, and Iris’s glare intensified.  

“Keep dreaming, asshole.” 

“The tension between us will need an outlet, my dear Iris. Especially if this is our first night together.” Eris said with an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh. “I can’t imagine how much worse it’ll get the more we spend time together.”

“There’s nothing to imagine.” she growled. “Except sweet, sweet death.”  

“We can fuck this once and get it out of our systems. You can go back to hating me afterward,” he suggested, and Iris only glared at him once more before turning to the closet and rummaging through it. “No sense in denying it, hm?”

It took her a full moment of silence with Eris smirking at her back before Iris closed the closet door, sleeping clothes in hand. 

“Running a sword through your body will ease this tension you’re feeling.” 

“I’d rather we kissed aggressively.”

“If you keep this up, I’m going to make sure you die in the most embarrassing way possible.” 

“You mean when you murder me?” Eris said with a smile. 

“Yes.  When I murder you.” she confirmed. 

“You have your work cut out for you then. I’m embarrassed by very little.” 

Iris squinted at him then looked down at the clothes in her hand, her fingers rubbing the fabric gently. He watched her look at him, bite her lip, then look away and Eris’s whole body straightened. Slowly, Iris placed the sleeping set she chose for herself on the table closest to her and walked towards him. Eris focused on each step she took and then held his breath when she stopped in front of him. 

“Are you sure?” she said softly and very suddenly, she was closer to him than she had been all night, the weight of her body pressing into him.

“Am I sure about what?” he asked quietly, his hands flexing at his sides. Should he touch her? Or would it scare her away? She had said don’t.

“That it would be difficult for me to embarrass you?” she asked, finally letting go of her dress, bringing her hand so her fingers gently grazed his shoulder. Eris’s eyes zeroed in on the dip in her dress that had exposed the top of her cleavage.

“Hm?” he said stupidly, his eyes back on her face to find her smiling coyly at him and Eris blinked, fully aware of what she was doing. Of how her fingers were now slowly trailing down his chest and back up.

“Do you think,” she began and leaned close to his ear, her hand resting over his heart. “It would be embarrassing for you to die while at attention? Just before a release?”

Eris blinked. “What —”

Her hand went up and she flicked him as hard as possible right on the forehead. “Because I will have you so worked up, two seconds away from an orgasm thinking you’ve earned me, then stab you in the heart and leave you to bleed out if you don’t stop making inappropriate jokes. Keep pushing your limits with me, I dare you.”

Eris blinked rapidly, his hand coming up to touch the stinging on his forehead.

“Did you just...flick me? Like a child?”

“Didn’t know if your pretty face could handle a good smack, husband.” Iris replied, flipping him off once more then stomped away from him, grabbed her change of clothes, and slammed the bathroom door behind her. 

It took Eris a moment to realize that indeed, he now had a hard-on and a small laugh huffed out of him. Rubbing his forehead, he slowly walked to the bed and sat down, letting out another little laugh. 

This whole day had felt like he’d been dunked into a bucket of water repeatedly and then thrown into a pit of darkness. He felt disoriented with how quickly everything had changed and whiplash from his conversation with Iris. He was unclear of where they stood now. Where did he stand with her?

Eris thought back to the feeling of her between his arms, when she was only inches away from kissing him. He thought back to her flushed cheeks, the intake of breath when his hands had touched her back, her glares. 

He grinned broadly. Maybe being married wouldn’t be so bad. It was clear she didn’t really hate him. She was more worried for her safety. 

His smile immediately dimmed at that, remembering how she flinched when he wanted to touch her hair. 

He sighed then quickly stripped the bottoms he was wearing, changing into sleeping pants. Though he typically preferred to sleep in undershorts or completely nude, Eris had a feeling Iris would actually kill him if he wasn’t decent. Just as he finished hanging up his dress clothes, the bathroom door opened and his head snapped to her side, meeting her eyes. 

And oh. 

She was wearing sleeping pants and a shirt that was twice her size — meant for him. 

He raised a brow with a small smile. “Those...are mine, aren’t they?” 

Iris blinked at him then shrugged, walking to the vanity and grabbing the dagger. She pointedly ignored him as she walked past him.

“What’s yours is mine, is it not, husband dear?”

Eris smirked. “No lingerie for me then?”

“Knock yourself out if you’d like to wear some.” 

“You want to see me in lingerie, wife?”

“I’d much rather die.”

He chuckled and shook his head, watching her make her way to their shared bed, not wanting to think about her in lacy nothings. “Hm. I still think nothing would look best on you.”

Iris pointed the dagger threateningly at him. “My patience with you is wearing thin.”

And just like that, his new wife had climbed into their bed. 

It took Eris a few seconds to realize what she was doing as she crawled on the bed, as the first image of her on her knees had taken him down a very indecent road. He could only watch in amused silence as Iris started stacking pillows down the length of the bed between them. Iris only narrowed her eyes at him, as if daring him to laugh before turning to her side and laying down, the dagger sliding underneath her pillow. 

As if pillows would stop him if he chose to be a monster.

But he wouldn’t.

Eris frowned as he climbed onto his side of the bed and lay flat on his back, an arm under his head. He let a few moments of silence pass between them before he finally spoke. 

“Iris?”

He felt her shuffle and a few seconds passed before she replied.

“Eris.” 

“Tomorrow, we both have roles to play,” he began quietly and felt her still. “Everyone will be expecting it.”

“And what roles will that be?”  

“You, the shy new wife that had the life fucked out of her and is embarrassed that people know.” he continued, “Me, the sated husband who fucked the life out of you and got what’s mine.”

Iris shot up and glared at him over the pillow barricade. “The conqueror and the conquest, hm?” She spat, repulsed.

Eris sat up with an eye roll. “That’s what they’ll be expecting to see and I for one, live to meet expectations.”

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Not as disgusting as they’ll be expecting me to be with you.” he said with a scoff. “You’re lucky they stopped checking if couples consummated marriages the morning after.”

Iris frowned and looked away from him, her fingers fiddling with the edge of his shirt that covered her body. “It doesn’t have to be that way and you know it.” 

Eris was quiet for a moment. “No, it doesn’t but…it is in our best interest to play by the expectations so that no one looks too closely at us.” 

Iris tilted her head, her mouth a thin line. “Your father.” 

“And yours.” he said pointedly, and Iris swallowed.  

“But...I don’t want to be seen that way. I want to be me.”

“Unless you want them saying I fucked some confidence in you, you can’t change who they want to see overnight.” 

“Gods.” she scoffed. “Just taking all the credit for it, aren’t you?” 

He gave her a small smile. “I aim to please.”

Iris pursed her lips then scowled, shooting him a look full of disdain. “I could also seem disappointed which will clearly indicate you couldn’t perform, and your little wife was left unsatisfied.” 

Eris barked a laugh and lay back down on his back. “Oh wife, you are a funny one.” he said and felt her plop down on her side. “No one will believe that.” 

“My disappointment will be authentic enough, no one would doubt it.” She begrudgingly replied. 

Eris rolled his eyes. “You really sure you don’t want to just fuck this out? I’m sure we’ll feel better afterward and that way we’ll start off our marriage honestly.”

“One more word on this and you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“I am the firstborn son of a high lord.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“I’d be happy to. Just bend over, wife.”

She only raised her hand to flip him off and Eris chuckled. 

He waited a few more minutes in silence, listening to the slight shifting of her feet and the thundering of her heart. Despite her words, she still seemed to be nervous. A part of him couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t want to be married to him either. 

He lifted himself on his elbows to peer at her over the pillow barricade between them and found her curled up on her side, her back facing him. 

And suddenly he found himself nervous.

“If it wasn’t clear before, I want to make it clear again,” he began, and she turned slightly to meet his eyes over her shoulder. “I have no intentions of hurting you. I don’t want this marriage to be miserable. Even if it’s what everyone’s expecting.”

She looked away from him for a moment then looked back at him once more. “Even with all the things you’ve said earlier?” 

“I consider it my civic duty to tease my wife.” he said and felt her eyes roll. “Among other things.” 

“Other things?” 

“I could also be your friend.” he found himself saying quietly, the tips of his ears heating as Iris flushed and turned away quickly. Eris felt his whole body burst into flame, his face flushing as he slumped back into the mattress, embarrassment coursing through him. 

He had threatened her. Tried to kiss her. Clearly would love to fuck her. And then like a complete and utter imbecile tells her he wants to be her friend. He suddenly felt blessed his bride was picked for him instead of attempting to woo anyone. He used to have some game.

Eris only stopped debating whether he should set himself on fire and be done with the misery he was feeling when Iris spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know if I can be your friend.” she said.

Eris paused. “Why not?”

“I’m still fantasizing about choking you.” 

“Mm. That’s a shame,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting at the absurd response. “I’m still fantasizing about kissing you.”

A moment of silence passed, and Eris turned his head slightly to find that Iris had sat up, her eyes peeking over the pillow barricade and she quietly said, “A question for a question.”

Eris sat up on his elbows again. “A question for a question.” 

She paused again, seemingly weighing her question then bit her lip. “Will you...would you ever force me? If I didn’t want to?” 

“Never.” he immediately responded. “I have no intention of being the monster people seem to think I am.”

He felt her relief sweep through the room and a bitterness curled in his stomach as he dropped back on his back and Iris hid back on her side. Why hadn’t he thought of a moment like this? Where his wife would think he was a piece of shit big enough to torture her in that way? 

“What’s your question then?” her voice carried over to him and Eris realized then, that he wanted whatever this was between them to work out. 

There was no need for it to be awful. They could make it work…right?

With his gaze locked on the ceiling, he swallowed and then quietly said, “Do you think you would eventually be willing to be my friend?”

And the difference in their questions struck him then. She wanted to feel safe. He wanted a companion. He glared at the ceiling as embarrassment washed over him again, threatening to drown him at how stupidly vulnerable he let himself be with her.

A stranger. Yet, not.

He waited for her to say something and when a few moments passed and she hadn’t, he sighed softly. Eris had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard her mumble a response.

“Maybe.”

He blinked sleepily and lifted himself on his elbows to peer at her over the pillow barricade between them one last time. “Maybe?”

“Maybe.”

Eris lay back and his eyes fell on the ceiling again. The atmosphere was still a little tense, but it had dampened down, not quite as suffocating. 

Maybe was good. They’d only know each other for a few hours. Eris found maybe to be very, very reasonable. 

“Goodnight, Iris.” he whispered then, hoping the night carried his wishes in the words.

A heartbeat later, the night breeze carried back Iris’s. 

“Goodnight, Eris.”

[wlwaerith]

[mothprincess]

serena crane, angel blue

[abyssal-oddity]

Late upload of my contribution to the NA art party~

It was fun joining in on one of these, hope to do more!

Maibe Hegazy - @snaakesnack

Mellan

Uda Kiyoshi - @jaded-cactus