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faerievampling · 4 months

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Miracle

Summary: Years after the defeat of the Netherbrain, Astarion and Tav discover they are pregnant.

link to ao3!

Part 2

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x Female Tav/Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: 18+. Mention of breeding. breast milk. pregnancy. Astarion being very horny for all these things. body worship. angst. changes in POV focus. brief mention of abortion.

A/N: I'm totally going to write more about these two. I need a pregnant adventuring Tav and protective Astarion.

You had been cleaning off your armor after a long day of running errands for Jaheira and the Harper’s when you notice Astarion’s eyes on you.

You could feel his stare, and as you turn to meet it, the look on his face is peculiar, somewhere between shock and amusement.

“Darling?” You ask, stopping your task to fully soak in his expression. “Astarion -“

“It’s nothing, my love, nothing,” His voice is dismissive, waving his hand as he tries to push beyond whatever he has been thinking.

You notice his ruby eyes don’t leave yours for the rest of the evening. You can’t help but feel as though your vampire is avoiding you.

But you decide to give him his space: this was often the remedy for Astarion’s mood swings.

***

Astarion couldn’t figure it out.

You had rarely left his side for the past few years. When would you have had the time to steal away with another man?

Astarion wondered who he was, what he looked like.

He curses. Why hadn’t he ever picked up the scent of this mystery man? His smell would have been all over your body.

And Astarion knew his nose was working just fine: your change in smell had been the very first thing he picked up on. Astarion certainly thought it strange, but he chalked it up to a weird diet. The two of you had been running through the wastes of Rashemen, and you had eaten a questionable animal that one night.

No, it wasn’t that, Astarion was certain. That little flutter of a quickening he had heard earlier couldn’t be denied. Even though you were just on the other side of the wall, Astarion could hear the gentle thrum of two heartbeats.

He sighs, running his hands through his curls. He’s certain that you don’t know. You weren’t good at hiding things, and you rarely attempted to lie anyways because you are such a sweetheart that it didn’t make any sense at all for you to have bed with another man and cause Astarion pain like this.

Astarion knows he just needs to talk to you, but for the unlife of him, can't figure out where to even remotely begin. Pregnancy and childbirth was…he didn’t even want to think about it.

A child? He can’t even really fathom having one around.

Astarion sits up, having found the resolve to finally confront you, and finds you on the porch of Jaheria’s estate, your eyes mindlessly scanning the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion takes your image before interrupting whatever thought you were having: you were a vision, a rare beauty that Astarion was so lucky to find.

He swears his heart flutters for you sometimes. “Do you like being back in the city?”

You nearly jump, startled by the question.

“Sorry, darling,” Astarion murmurs in apology.

You smile, laughing a bit as you collect yourself. “I do. It’s nice to see it all back together. The rebuilding efforts took longer than expected,”

Astarion fears you’re going to keep talking about the mundane when all he can focus on is the beat of that little heart and how round and plump your breasts look beneath that blouse.

Astarion swears you’ve never filled out before; not like that.

“You’re staring again,” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. Astarion can see the worry in your face. “Just tell me, Astarion.”

Astarion swallows. “Well,” Astarion stumbles, rolling his eyes at himself as he tries to find his words. This hurt more than he thought it would. “You’re with child, Tav.”

***

You’re speechless.

“I’d rather like to know who the father is.” Astarion’s eyes are round, wet, tears already lining them. He blinks them back quickly, trying to compose himself. He almost seemed surprised by his sudden lack of control of his handsome face.

“What?” You ask incredulously.

“I’ve been trying to imagine him, to think about when you could have…” He stops himself, swallowing his upset before continuing to ramble: he keeps talking, stumbling while you’re still processing what he just said.

You interrupt him.“You’re saying that I’m pregnant?”

“Yes.”

You’re silent for a while. You can feel Astarion’s nerves fraying at the seams, his emotions emanating through him, producing an aura that has encompassed you both. It made time feel slow.

“How do you know?” You ask a bit stupidly. You hardly had missed your monthly bleeding, only being a few days off, which was very normal for you.

“I can hear it. The heartbeat.” His voice is low, guarded. There is a thick moment of silence.

“Surely not,” You almost laugh. But Astarion’s face is still, eyes round and wide as he studies you. He looks devastated, and it makes your stomach drop.

You realize he’s being serious, asking you in earnest if you had been with another. You think you should say something.

“You’ve been my only lover since the clearing, Astarion.” You want to reach out to him, but you think not. If Astarion had hackles, they would surely be raised.

“So you’re going to chalk this up to some immaculate conception?” Astarion spats cruelly, his agitation getting the better of him as he flails his hands. “Instead of just telling me the truth?”

You’re speechless again. You knew he wouldn’t lie about this, so you desperately try to accept the fact that you’re pregnant with Astarion’s child as he, the very man who has bred you, yells at you.

“Close your mouth, darling, you aren’t a fly trap.” Astarion quips, crossing his arms.

The anger is rising inside you, his offense reaching a boiling point. Your fists clench, your eyes narrowing as you try to reason with him.

“Four weeks ago, we were in the Rashemen wilderness with only Minsc and Boo as our company,” Is all you can say.

Astarion’s expression is locked in between confusion and betrayal. “Minsc has his charms.”

You scoff. “You can’t be serious, Astarion.” Astarion’s gaze meets the floor.

As you study your lover, your anger dissipates. You see how hurt he is, how unsure of himself he feels. He wasn’t likely to tell you that outright, but you knew.

You can’t place how you feel, anymore. You aren’t numb, per say, but there is a distinct lack of feeling within you. You hadn’t thought this a possibility. You didn’t know if you were happy or sad, or if you would even be up to the challenge.

You needed some time to think, to let this soak in.

“You know, I just remembered that Shadowheart invited me over for tea the other day,” Your excuse is lame, but Astarion doesn’t stop you as you awkwardly walk down the steps, off to the crowded streets of the city.

***

Astarion was a mess the whole time you were gone. He tried to keep himself busy by doing various things around Jaheira’s house, but he kept finding himself lost in thought, thinking about that little bundle of life inside of you.

He felt greatly relieved when you returned.

He waited for you in one of the spare bedrooms, the one you always shared when you two passed through Baldur's Gate.

He was pretending to read when you came in, trying not to seem too eager to talk with you. He heard the continued thump of the little heart beat alongside your own. His anxiety is paramount, but he feels a wave of relief crash over him at the sound of the life inside of you.

Astarion tried to accept that you hadn’t slept with anyone else: you couldn’t have, it was literally impossible. And he knew you never would have, anyways. But, since you didn’t sleep with another man, that meant that he, Astarion Ancunin, impregnated you.

“How was your date with Shadowheart?” Astarion asks, peeking over his book. You had begun to undress yourself, and Astarion couldn’t help but steal a glance.

He noticed the sway of your breasts as you freed them; the tips of them being especially tight and a darker pink than usual.

Gods. It was like you were purposefully wafting your scent right in his face. You were sweeter than usual, and Astarion felt a bit ashamed at his growing stiffness.

Earlier, he had accused you of sleeping with another man, even though he very well knew you hadn’t. And now, he was ogling you, thinking about all the pregnant women he had seen in his long life: it hadn’t been very many. Pregnant women didn’t often frequent the flophouses late at night.

But he imagined how your belly would swell, how your hips would round, and how your breasts would become even larger…the thought aroused Astarion, far more than he expected it to. He had to stop himself when he imagined your milk-filled breasts; another bodily fluid of yours that your vampire was desperate to taste.

“It was alright,” Your voice was shaky as you finally covered your breasts, to Astarion’s relief. He tried to ignore his swollen cock. “She confirmed. What you said.”

Astarion places his book down, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, placing himself closer to you. He really doesn’t know what to do, or how he feels, but Astarion does know one thing: that he adores you, and he can’t handle the distance between the two of you.

So, the vampire reaches out, desperate for your contact. Astarion feels much better when you take his hand, sitting next to him.

“I’m sorry for my accusation earlier. I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around it all.” His tone is good humored, down to earth, as he wants to be sweet to you. You deserved it.

“It’s rare. Practically a miracle.” You say, but your face is absent of the smile that Astarion had expected from you.

Astarion didn’t really know how you felt about children. He assumed you didn’t want them because you chose to be with him, but he expected you to be a little bit happier than you looked.

“There are remedies, you know. If we don’t want this.” You say, looking away from him as you do.

“Well…it’s your body, Tav.” Astarion spoke gently, wanting to be careful with you, because you were always so careful with him. “I can’t tell you what to do with it.”

Astarion imagined that if taking care of seven thousand vampire spawn in the Underdark was something the two of you had managed, then a child couldn’t be too difficult. (Many years from now would prove Astarion very wrong in thinking this).

“What If I keep it? Would you leave me?” You speak quietly, carefully, as if you were treading dangerous waters; asking questions you didn’t actually want to know the answer to.

Astarion doesn’t hesitate, desperately wanting to comfort you. “No,” Astarion squeezed your hand, grabbing the other as you faced each other. “I honestly can’t imagine a scenario where I would.”

You smile a bit, and Astarion smiles back. “So, what do we do?” You ask tentatively.

Astarion sighs, a hand going to caress your cheek, bringing you closer as he pulls you into a tender kiss. “We keep living, of course.”

Part 2!

Masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #dadstarion #papstarion #dad astarion #pregnant tav #astarion smut #astarion bg3 #spawn!astarion

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rebdekarios · 4 months

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Another Gale Romance headcanon: Wedding Edition

How would Gale be at wedding planning?

I feel as though he would get so excited that he’d have full involvement on everything, but whenever Tav expresses their wants, he’d break down into his “So long as it’s with you, I’d be fine without such ceremony.”

Which makes Tav melt but also it frustrates the hell out of them because once he’s given the chance he will take over planning again.

Because it’s Gale. And he quite literally planned out your first night together, as well as your future date night in his tower, so gods know the kind of man he’d be during his wedding.

More elaborate headcanons below….

Gale wedding planning banter:

G: “Tara, you must wear this robe and flower crown if you’re going to take part in this wedding. I insist!”

T: “Mr. Dekarios, I look absolutely ridiculous. Look how much it covers my ears! How am I going to be able to hear for pigeons with this thing in the way?”

AND

Gale [writing his vows and reading them out loud]: “My dearest love, I promise to love and cherish you to the outer planes and beyond. By Mystra’s will, I-“ *realizes what he just wrote and frantically erases it*

BUT ALSO

Gale: “Tav, you are everything. You complete me in every possible way. I love you and I can’t wait to marry you.”

Tav: “If you loved me, you’d let me pick at least one song to be played for us to dance to.”

Gale *awkwardly*: “Right, yes. Forgive me.”

ONE MORE

G: “Lae’zel cannot bring her dragon. Waterdeep could never handle such a beast. She will have to find another way here.”

T: “She has no other way to travel to our dimension, Gale.”

On the day of, he keeps trying to check in on Tav. He sent a simulacrum to look after Tav but also to make sure Tav arrived and is on time (his anxiety was telling him all night that Tav would get cold feet.)

He’s also frantically running around to make sure everything is running smoothly and all is in order. He’s dressed to the nines, as you’d expect from him, and the venue is extravagant and lavish. And purple. Everything is purple.

He uses the weave to set a stunning backdrop behind them as the ceremony takes place. Most likely an Aurora or a galaxy.

Tav and Gale fought over who should officiate (he wanted Elminster but Tav said no), however they settle on Withers.

Everything goes beautifully, it is a night to remember and their friends didn’t embarrass them too much.

Astarion attempted to make a speech, but he was a little drunk so Gale told him to sit down and behave.

Karlach’s dance moves were so fire that the bard playing the music literally caught fire. It was frightening until Gale conjured a gush of water over the bard to extinguish.

Gale finally relaxes at the end of the night, hand in hand with his beloved. Watching the party dwindle down, he remembers the orb, the tadpole, the Absolute, and every hardship he endured in life that led him to this point - and he cries from how lucky he really is.

Ok maybe I need to make a fic of this lol.

#bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 #baldurs gate gale #bg3 tav #gale romance #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 romance #bg3 headcanons #gale bg3 #galemance #gale fic #gale headcanons #gale x reader #tav x gale

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msrhaxoz · 1 month

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Otto's biography

I want to share with you the backstory of my Tav. This is the story before the events of the game. His name is Otto. He is a bard/rogue, trickster with an ambiguous character and a lucky guy with a love of life. He's also a bit of an idiot. Enjoy!

In the depths of Otto's memories lies a foggy recollection of his early years. Yet, through the haze, a handful of cherished moments with his family still shine bright.

Hailing from the dark depths of the Underdark, Otto's family carved out a life far from the bustling heart of the dark elf city, nestled near a temple dedicated to the Dark Maiden. His mother ruled with an iron fist, while his father exuded warmth and kindness. Alongside Otto, the middle brother, stood his siblings: the authoritative Audrey, who played both big sister and second mom and with whom Otto shared both resemblance and interests; and the youngest, Tae. It was Audrey who fostered their shared love for music and dance, though Otto diverged from her in his fascination with magic and warfare. Despite Audrey's attempts to impart basic magical knowledge and combat strategies, the boys often disregarded her guidance and forged their own path.

But the real tale lies in Otto and Tae's bond. Despite their five-year age gap, they were inseparable — so much so that they were often mistaken for twins. Where Otto went, mischief in tow, Tae wasn't far behind. Their connection ran deep, Their connection was so tight that punishment meant for one often extended to the other, under the pretext of "company" and "just in case," as their sister wryly remarked.

Otto exuded a serene aura, seemingly detached from the world around him. His devotion to his goddess knew no bounds; he prayed fervently, joined in the nocturnal rituals with zeal, and found solace in in expressing his emotions through the graceful movements of dance and the soothing melodies of the harp. Despite the mistreatment endured by his fellow drow, Otto remained unmoved, dismissing the tales of the fearsome goddess Lolth as mere myths. Yet, whenever he ventured beyond his secluded realm to gather provisions at his parents' urging, he encountered the disdain of surface dwellers. Thankfully, his protective sister often accompanied him, ensuring his safety amidst the hostility of the outside world.

This marked the sombre conclusion of happier times from the past. At the age of fifty, tragedy struck, forever altering the course of Otto's life. During one of the reverent nights devoted to dancing in honour of the goddess Eilistraee, malevolent dark elves launched a merciless assault on the drow community. The ensuing carnage was unfathomable - nearly all participants in the sacred ceremony were ruthlessly slaughtered by the followers of Lolth. Though Otto's parents were absent that fateful night, he, along with his sister and brother, witnessed the horrifying massacre unfold. Despite Audrey's valiant attempts to resist the attackers, her bravery cost her life, her severed head serving as a grim testament to her sacrifice at her brothers' feet.

Desperate to spare their lives, Otto pleaded with the dark drow, willing to endure servitude or any other fate to ensure his and his brother's survival. Whether out of exhaustion from the night's bloodshed or for other reasons, the drow relented, sparing a handful of captives to serve as slaves. And so, Otto and his brother found themselves thrust into the heart of the city of Menzoberranzan.

Otto spent the better part of his life toiling as a slave, his days consumed by labor in the mines and kitchens hidden beneath the earth's surface. For 137 long years, he lived in the shadows, cut off from the moon's gentle light, gradually losing touch with his goddess, surviving solely by sheer luck - or so he continues to believe to this day.

Despite being forcibly separated, the brothers occasionally crossed paths during their assigned tasks. Otto often found himself consumed by thoughts of Tae, grappling with the harsh realities of their existence and haunted by memories of past horrors. Yet, Tae remained a beacon of hope, preventing Otto from succumbing entirely to despair. As long as his brother endured, Otto found solace in their shared struggle. Despite the hardships, Otto found some comfort in knowing he wasn't alone. However, this hope was short-lived.

Tae endured nearly eight agonizing years of enslavement alongside his elder brother. Over time, the once hopeful drow siblings grew weary, their dreams of freedom fading into the darkness that surrounded them. Despite the dwindling hope, they pressed on, silently bearing the weight of their captivity. Unexpectedly, Otto honed his culinary skills, perhaps finding sustenance and purpose that helped him to linger amidst the darkness that shrouded their existence.

One fateful day, Tae, utterly drained of energy, made a grave mistake in the warden's presence. Exhausted beyond measure, he collapsed under the weight of a heavy load, causing sacks of provisions to spill and inadvertently ensnaring a pair of goblin slaves next to him. Otto, who happened to be nearby, watched the scene unfold before his eyes. As punishment for his blunder, Tae was mercilessly dragged before the hungry rothe, and since he was guilty of depriving them of food, the little slave had to pay for it. To make matters worse, the warden overseeing Tae's punishment happened to be one of the drow responsible for the massacre during the night of Eilistraee worship. Upon recognizing the brothers, the warden, sporting a smug grin, gestured for Otto to approach him as Tae stood by the two wild rothe.

"Rothe may be herbivores, but they possess quite the temper," he taunted Otto with a smirk. "And this pair happens to be the most voracious and vicious of them all." With those chilling words, the drow warden launched a rock at one of the rothe, striking it squarely in the eye. Caught off guard by the sudden violence, Tae gasped in terror, triggering a frenzied response from the hungry beasts. Wild and merciless, they lunged at the defenseless brother, unleashing a barrage of kicks and trampling him underfoot. Frozen in horror, Otto watched helplessly, his hands trembling with silent anguish. His heart felt as though it might burst from his chest as he witnessed the brutal onslaught. Tae's desperate screams pierced the air, drowned out by the sounds of agony and chaos. Blood mingled with tears as Tae's eyes reflected a haunting crimson hue, his neck veins pulsating under the strain of the rothe's relentless assault. With a sickening crunch, Tae's belly was torn open by the beasts' horns, and he fell still only when his head was crushed beneath their hooves, his existence snuffed out in an instant.

And Otto just watched in silence.

He watched as the light faded from his brother's eyes, his gaze unwavering as he bore witness to the final moments of Tae's existence. The drow warden's mocking voice briefly pierced through Otto's numbness. "Perhaps you're not as feeble as you appear. Your selfishness served you well," the drow sneered mockingly.

Otto possessed a sharp intellect and a discerning eye for danger, especially in tense situations. It would have been naive to assume that the dark elves would permit him to aid his brother. With a sinking feeling of dread, he realized this was a blatant provocation. Even if they survived the rothe attack, the wardens would likely execute them both for insubordination, at best. Feeling utterly helpless, Otto made the agonizing decision to live on, letting his brother die alone.

In that moment, a torrent of negative emotions flooded Otto's soul - the suffocating weight of guilt, the insidious selfishness instilled by the warden. The sheer volume of these feelings overwhelmed him, erupting in a chaotic cacophony that left behind a haunting emptiness. Otto experienced a paradoxical sensation of both intense emotion and numbing detachment. Despite the turmoil within, not a single tear escaped his eyes. He knew that, in time, the suppressed emotions would resurface, threatening his sanity. To avoid succumbing to madness, he hardened his body against exhaustion and his mind against the encroaching chaos, embracing a chilling resolve to endure.

The passing century blurred into a directionless existence for Otto, a routine settled into over time, overshadowed by a constant fear of death. He witnessed the brutal executions of disobedient slaves by the drow, observed tears streaming down the faces of tormented men crumbling under the cruelty of the priestesses of Lolth, and watched with detachment as spiders feasted on the anguished cries of goblins. Yet, these harrowing scenes no longer stirred fear within him.

By sheer luck, he narrowly escaped his fate. A riot erupted among the enslaved Minotaurs and Orcs one day, fuelled by the recency of their enslavement, their vigor unchecked by reason. The chaos of the uprising rattled the dark elves, as the Minotaurs and Orcs, in their bid for freedom, wreaked havoc by demolishing nearby structures and liberating the imprisoned rothe. In the midst of the turmoil, with the attention of the Lolth drow diverted towards subduing the larger slaves, it presented the only fleeting opportunity for him to seize his chance at freedom.

Perhaps Otto possessed a natural inclination for stealth, or perhaps he was blessed by the Dark Maiden that fateful night. With meticulous care yet swift determination, he navigated his way out of the city, utilizing every available hiding spot - be it behind corners, haystacks, or barrels. Meanwhile, the other escaped captives drew attention with their frantic and clumsy attempts to flee, providing cover for Otto's silent movements. Step by cautious step, Otto distanced himself

from the chaos, his path guided by the cool touch of cave walls and the enveloping darkness. Despite the uncertainty of his destination or the reason for his flight, he pressed on, driven by an instinctual urge to escape the confines of his captivity.

Emerging from the depths of the Underground, Otto greedily filled his lungs with the crisp air of freedom before hastening onward, propelled by a newfound sense of liberation.

He ran tirelessly, his destination unknown, his only focus on putting distance between himself and his captors. With each stride, he stumbled and fell, only to rise again and resume his frantic pace. Otto pushed himself until his lungs burned, his vision blurred, and his legs threatened to give out beneath him. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and he collapsed onto the cool grass, his body spent and gasping for air.

For what felt like an eternity, Otto lay there, struggling to regain his breath, his hands clutching the damp earth beneath him. Despite his fervent desire to rise and continue his flight, the searing pain in his chest rendered him immobile. As he coughed and gasped for air, he forced his eyes open, greeted by the serene expanse of the night sky.

Rolling onto his back, Otto found himself bathed in the soft glow of the full moon, its ethereal light casting a gentle radiance upon the meadow where he lay. In that moment, the young drow felt a sense of peace wash over him, as if the moon itself offered solace and sanctuary to the escaped prisoner. For a moment, the Otto forgot how to breathe, so mesmerised was he by the dark sun. And he finally remembered his goddess.

Tears welled in his reddened eyes, and an uncontrollable laughter bubbled up from his aching chest. Otto groaned, even screamed, burying his face and in his hands, gripping his hair. Turning towards the grass, he inhaled the scent of fresh greenery and damp earth, offering silent gratitude to some unseen force. Mumbling barely audible words, he offered apologies to his brother and sister. Thus, he passed the entire night, seeking refuge in the cool darkness until dawn forced him to seek shelter from the sun's burning rays.

Thus began the dawn of a new life for the former prisoner. Upon the surface, he would once again revel in the joy of music, the gentle strumming of the harp. He would seek out part-time jobs and explore new ways of survival, including, perhaps, resorting to stealing when necessary.

It's worth noting that the trauma of his survival would significantly impact the young man's behaviour. After experiencing a taste of freedom, Otto began engaging in impulsive actions that contradicted his moral compass. Stealing had never been characteristic of him, but the prolonged captivity and initial struggles to earn money pushed him to drastic measures. Thus, he developed kleptomania, an uncontrollable urge to steal even when unnecessary. Additionally, his youthful idealism, which caught up with him later, painted the picture of a naïve and irresponsible individual, despite his advanced mental maturity. He became a person marked by extreme chaos.

Many thanks to @mist1e for translating my text into English. I am very grateful to her for that!

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #drow oc #text #dnd #dungeon and dragons #bard #rogue #menzoberranzan #eilistraee #drow tav #dark elf #my art

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sky-kiss · 8 months

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Okay I’m the anon who asked, and the idea of like Raphael dancing has been stuck in my head for days, mainly because I like waltz scenes but also because some dances have so much structure that it reminds me of Raphael and his whole “in my house there is order and there is decorum” so yeah that was what I thought but also take your time and if nothing comes to you, don’t feel pressured to write it! Have a good day/night!

The House of Hope was resplendent. The table had long since been cleared away to make room for the dancers, slowly revolving in time with the music. The performers were mortal, that much was certain. Devils did not lack talent, but the aptitude for true creation was not among them. The ease, the beauty, and the life spoke to mortality.

Tav watched from the sidelines, sipping their drink. They were unaccustomed to these events, even after decades at Raphael’s side. Devils filled the House, chatting among themselves, hoping to garner the Lord of Avernus’ favor.

Tav counted themselves lucky: they did not have to stoop and bow. As consort to the Archdevil, they were afforded a degree of leniency.

They watch him move about the ballroom, a king in his element, handsome in his formal regalia. Raphael kept his hair longer these days, a mixture of personal preference and lack of time. That Tav mentioned preferring it was neither here nor there. Such deference was beyond him.

Sweet wine left them a little dizzy. Their love was handsome, and it felt criminal not to hold Raphael in their arms. But, as was so often the case, Raphael presented as both problem and solution; he held a hand out to them, the right corner of his mouth ticked up in a knowing smirk.

“Come, sweetling. Have a dance.”

Not a request, it never was; Raphael wanted to display them to his court. Raphael's prized adventurer, the hero of Baldur’s Gate. A rare soul to acquire and few many devils could boast.

Tav didn’t mind. He looked so pleased with himself, darkly handsome, and smirking as he took their hand. His skin was warm, fingers curling over their hip as he drew them close. The room fell silent aside from the band, his court watching the display with dutifully feigned interest.

Raphael’s steps are controlled and practiced. In contrast to his typical theatrics, he danced with a restrained grace. He did not improvise. The steps of the waltz were law, and he abided by the law rigidly. Tav could improvise. It made them a perfectly suited pair. When he twirled them, they could react more vibrantly, smiling and affectionate. Ill suited for a devil’s court, but no one would think to challenge it.

Raphael pulled them close, humming. It wouldn’t do to show outward emotion. But he traced their nose with his and pulled them nearer before the final rotation. The assembled crowd clapped, polite, uncaring.

Tav didn’t mind. Raphael’s eyes danced, pleased and possessive, in the firelight. What else could matter?

#bg3 raphael #asks #my writing #raphael x tav

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kudzuoath · 8 months

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Can I request Gale thinking that a Tav is going to break up with him because of Halsim?

Sure! I went with a GN Tav, and tried to keep things a little vague. There's some canon dialogue mixed in with this too, but I hope you like it!

---

He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

But something about Halsin’s tone pricked his ears, and he found himself entirely unable to concentrate on his book. Listening in on their conversation instead. He smiled to himself as the druid laid compliments at Tav’s feet. Though a faint prickle of unease nipped at him.

That tone of his… surely not.

“ – My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.”

Gale didn’t even pretend he wasn’t paying attention. His head shot up and he stared openly at where the two of them were standing, just across the way. Neither noticed his attention. And he hurried to bury his face back in the book. Listening intently as Halsin propositioned them.

The book creaked under his grip. He stared unseeingly at the words on the page in front of him. Counting to ten. To twenty. Fighting the rising tide of anxiety. Halsin would be a better fit, surely. A less broken one.

A roaring in his ears drowned out Tav’s response.

Calm, he thought.

His fingers sparked, threatening the book. Gale snapped it closed, then turned and walked into his tent with about as much grace as a steel watcher. A mistake. Because there was nothing in there but yet more books. And a second bedroll. He ought to get that back to Tav…

A burst of laughter beyond the fabric. Followed by hooting, and barking. Gale’s heart fell into his stomach and started to dissolve. He wasn’t ready for this conversation. He wasn’t ready to be set aside yet again.

You’re Gale of Waterdeep, he scolded himself. Surely you’re clever enough to keep them at your side.

The tent flap opened. He stiffened.

“Is there a reason you’re standing in the middle of our tent staring into a corner?” Tav asked, laughter in their voice.

Gale turned abruptly, and tugged them fully inside. They made a little noise of surprise, but came willingly enough. Which was good. He could work with that. He snapped his fingers, weaving silence into the blue canvas that enclosed them. Something that made Tav raise their eyebrows and go slightly pink.

“Did my ears deceive me, or did Halsin just ask you to bed down with him this evening?” Hm. Well, that was rather more blunt than he’d wanted to be.

Tav blinked, and went from pink to red. “Of course you overheard that –”

He bristled. “I would like to make it known that I am very much not interested in sharing you. Call me old fashioned, or greedy but I cannot change how I love, and I would have all of you for I would give you all of me.”

Puzzled. That was the look on their face.

Gale could picture the two of them so clearly. How well they would fit against the druid’s powerful form. He too might be a generous lover. He seemed the type.

“Did I ask you to share me?” Tav asked.

His heart continued to dissolve. And it did not go quietly. Pain choked him. But he was well practiced in swallowing it.

“Well, I had hoped to be a worthy man for your affections. Though I cannot blame you for it, seeing as you’ve come to speak with me so quickly. Know I bear you no ill will I would… I would rather see you happy with another than not happy at all –”

Tav took his face in both hands and yanked him down into a kiss. Their teeth clacked together. His nose was somewhat smashed. And the suddenness of the move had him staggering, almost losing his balance.

And yet their lips remained on his. He made an embarrassing sound of pure, unadulterated relief against their mouth, and wrapped his arms around them. Clinging, he wasn’t ashamed to admit. Even as embarrassment curdled on his skin.

“I told him no, Gale,” they admonished.

“Ah.” Heat filled his face. “I am… beyond lucky to have you. And perhaps more fool than I imagined to leap so quickly as I did.”

Tav snorted. “Try to have a little more faith in me, would you?”

Now that stung. “You’re right, of course. Though I don’t think you’re aware of how in love with you we all are.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” they muttered, glancing back toward the tent flap where the rest of the camp waited. “Even so. You’re the only one I want, Gale.”

Their thumbs stroked his cheeks. And he felt far too warm all of the sudden. Gale sighed and took one of their hands. Pressed kisses on their knuckles. “Your patience is… appreciated.”

“It’s a good thing I have lots of it, hm?”

#bg3 #gale #gale bg3 #gale/tav #my writing #not odette

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its-jaytothemee · 10 days

Text

Until I Met You - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Into Darkness

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 5,596

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav and her companions make the journey into the shadow cursed lands of Moonrise. She and Halsin struggle to cope with the darkness choking the land, but are lucky enough to find a small pocket of light among it. Part 21 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.

A/N: Let's get this act 2 party started! The chapters dealing with act 2 are going to be much heavier with angst and hurt/comfort but I'll sprinkle in some lighter stuff when I can!

The darkness was even heavier than Halsin remembered. He felt as if the long tendrils of shadow were weaving their way into his lungs, replacing the very air he breathed. Everyone stood still, unable to take another step forward as they began to realize the depth of the curse on this land. Tav was tense beside him, her fingers pressed into the back of his hand as she continued to hold it by her side.

“I don’t know what I expected, but damn – this place is cursed.” Karlach let out a shaky breath.

“I tried to picture it in my head but…this…” Shadowheart trailed off for a moment. “This is a lot.”

“I think I may have been a bit overzealous trying to push us here sooner.” Wyll’s voice was quiet, yet it still carried through the cold air. “Hold close to the light and keep the shadows at bay.”

“We press forward. Maybe we can find a place to camp around the lighter parts of the curse. Keep your torches up, we have spares if we start to lose any. Stay close together, and we might just survive this.” Tav kept her voice strong and confident, but Halsin could still feel her hand shaking in his.

She led them forward, pulling Halsin along behind her. Her other hand held her torch out in front of her to persuade the shadows around them to remain at arm’s length. The cold feeling seeping into his skin threatened to drag him back down into his darkest memories. Only the warmth of Tav’s hand seemed to keep him grounded and present with their traveling party.

The corruption of the shadow curse had weaved its way into every fiber of the land. The trees and vines surrounding them were lined with the dark energy, warped beyond the control of his druidic magic. He reached out to touch one of them and felt nothing. The hollow echo he sensed caused his throat to tighten and tears to sting his eyes.

What if that means that Thaniel is…is…

Halsin pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t afford to fall to despair. Soon enough he hoped to have his answers, best to hang on to that hope as long as possible. As they continued their wary stroll, Shadowheart stopped abruptly, causing her to linger back out of their torchlight. Her torch, he noticed, was no longer lit.

“Shadowheart! Stay close!” Tav turned to scold her.

“The curse…” She was looking at her hands in wonder. “It’s not affecting me like everyone else.”

“That’s not possible.” Halsin stayed close to Tav, each of them holding a torch high in the air.

“You know what this means?” Shadowheart looked between all of them, tears of pride shining in her green eyes. “I’ve been blessed.”

Tav stiffened at his side, her nails digging into the back of the hand she still held.

“Lady Shar, she’s blessed me while others are left to face her wrath. She loves me…” A few tears rolled down her cheeks, sparkling with each pop of the fire adorning their torches.

“Okay, so what does that mean for us?” Astarion turned to ask.

“She wouldn’t bless me without reason, no matter how much favor I’ve curried with her.” Shadowheart looked lost in thought for a moment. “Grymforge, all the signs of Dark Justiciars we’ve found, it’s no coincidence. I need to remain on the lookout for any place dedicated to Lady Shar. A temple, perhaps.”

“This whole damned place is dedicated to Shar thanks to her dark magic.” Tav spat back, her nails felt like they were embedded in Halsin’s skin, but he made no move to take his hand back. “You say she loves you? All she’s done is provide you with protection from her own corrupt power. That’s not love.”

“It is not for me to question my Lady’s will. She will show me the path to follow, I’m sure of it. Besides, it’s a good thing I’m protected, it means I can help us navigate these lands.” He could have sworn he saw a brief flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

“You wouldn’t need her help navigating these lands if they hadn’t been destroyed in the first place.” Tav started to take a step towards Shadowheart, but Halsin held her back.

“Regardless,” he interrupted, squeezing Tav’s hand to try and soothe her temper, “This will all be for nothing if we can’t find a safe haven within the shadows or a more reliable way to shield the rest of us. Having one person protected from them will not be enough.” He tried to keep his tone level, but his own hatred of Shar soaked into every word. Being here with one of her faithful disciples would be…challenging to say the least.

Tav took a shuddering breath beside him as she turned to continue their exploration. Her grip on his hand had loosened, now back to a comfortable hold as she pulled him along behind her.

“Is it just me, or do the shadows seem worse somehow? Heavier? Almost as if…” Tav trailed off as she took in their surroundings.

“As if they’re spreading.” He finished her thought. “Yes, I feel it too.”

He had never considered the possibility of the curse spreading, the theory brought waves of guilt crashing down on him. How far would they roam if given the opportunity?

Time is short, we must find Thaniel. It’s time to tell her.

“Tav, I need to tell you something.” He whispered, still holding her hand tight in his.

“Can it wait? I hear something up ahead.” She turned toward him as she spoke, but her attention was clearly elsewhere.

“Of course.” His shoulders slumped at her reply, he had been anxious to get his plan off his chest.

Tav began to take her hand back, her fingers slowly starting to slip away from him. He tightened his grip, not wanting to let go of her just yet.

“Is everything okay?” She turned around to face him, concern obvious in her expression.

“Yes, of course, everything is fine. My apologies.” He reluctantly let go of her hand but not before she gave it one final squeeze. Even in the unnatural darkness around them, he caught the faintest hint of a blush across her cheeks as she grinned at him. His now free hand reached up to touch the braid she had woven into half of his hair earlier this morning.

They crept through the woods, making their way down the gnarled vines and branches that littered the ground. He heard voices and saw the glow of firelight shining from behind a rocky hillside.

“Stay together…keep to the light!” An unfamiliar voice called out in the darkness.

Tav motioned for them to hold their position behind her. When Halsin peered around to look at her, she looked as if she had seen a ghost. Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again.

“Harpers.”

***

Tav crouched frozen in place, processing the sight before her. The four people in front of her all wore the silver harp pin used by the Harpers.

So, the Harpers have made their way back to Moonrise.

For the first time in so many years, true hope swelled inside of her. If these Harpers had found a way to survive here, maybe there was a chance that Tev was here as well. Maybe others survived too. Perhaps they had just been trapped and awaiting rescue.

Without thinking, she took a couple more steps forward.

“Tav? What are you doing?” Karlach’s panicked whispers called out to her.

“It’s okay. They’re Harpers and they haven’t been affected by the curse. They could help us!” She whispered back, her excitement must have been clear on her face. The renewed hope that Tev could be here, alive, propelled her forward.

“Stop! Who’s there?” The Harper leading the group called out to her.

“My name is Tav, I’m a friend.” She stepped out into their line of sight with her hands held up.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” The curly-haired woman kept her eyes locked on Tav.

“I’m one of you, an ally.” She slowly reached for her pack and spun it around to show them the small silver Harper pin fasted to the side.

“Anyone could have grabbed a pin off a corpse. Now come into the light, hands high.”

Tav complied, signaling the others to follow her. The small troop of Harpers gave them wary looks, studying them by the light of their torches, trying to size them up. Their eyes moved from Tav over the rest of their travelling party, eyeing the small pack of animals following in their footsteps. One of the Harpers was backing away from them, his face twisted with fear and uncertainty.

Stay in the light…

The curly-haired Harper turned back to one of her companions. “Yonas! Move in!” She ordered.

Their warning came too late. One of the shadows had appeared behind him. Tav watched in horror as it sank its claws into Yonas’s back and dragged him away into the trees. The other Harpers ran after him with their torches, desperately calling out to him, beckoning him back to the light.

“Follow my voice! Come back to the light!” The Harper leading the group yelled toward him.

Tav looked back at Halsin, terrified, a knowing look on both of their faces. He shook his head slowly. A low growl sounded from Lunari next to her.

It’s too late, the shadows have claimed him.

Memories of her first time in the shadows came rushing back to her. Once again, they threatened to paralyze her, to drag her into their cold abyss. But then she looked around to her friends whose faces had warped into varying states of horror and fear. Halsin’s face had paled, his eyes fixed on the place where Yonas had been standing. Tav snapped herself back to the present. She forced herself to be here for them. Above all else, she would not lose anyone else to this wretched curse.

A pained scream echoed from the trees where Yonas had been dragged away. The sound made Tav flinch as the chorus of those familiar screams came back into her mind. She watched as the other Harpers recoiled away from the sound, accepting that their companion was lost. More shadows swirled around them, silent hunters stalking their prey. The now cursed Harper, Yonas, moved toward them.

“…Join…me…” The unnatural voice called to them.

“There is nothing more to be done for him, we’ll help take care of this. Stick together, stay in the light. No heroics.” Tav’s voice sounded weaker than she meant it to be.

“Harpers – you heard the woman. To arms!”

Weapons were drawn but had to be balanced with the torches they all held in their hands. She couldn’t use a bow with one hand unavailable.

“Fuck.” She muttered as another group of shadows descended on them.

She took her torch and threw it into a nearby brazier to help illuminate the area, freeing up her other hand for her bow.

The unnerving screeches coming from the shadows sent bone-chilling shivers throughout her body. Her companions had shaken off their shock and joined the fight. As Shadowheart came running down the gnarled vines, Tav noticed the wraiths and shadows flinching away from her.

The mace.

“Shadowheart! Stay close!” Tav fired a shot at the cursed Harper.

“I told you, I’m fine!” She snapped back as she called forth radiant spirits to swirl in a protective circle around her.

“No!” Tav growled, having no energy to hide her annoyance. “The mace! I think it’s hurting them!”

Another agitated shriek from a wraith helped support her theory.

“Stay close to Shadowheart!” She waved her other companions down to her side.

They circled around her with the Harpers, huddling close to the radiant light of Lathander to keep the shadows weak. The curse felt even lighter in the warm glow of the mace than with torches. They all stood with their backs facing each other, their animal companions in the center along with Barcus, keeping the gaps close so the enemies couldn’t permeate their ranks. Spells and arrows soared through the air to combat the relentless shadows. Pained groans rang around the circle of fighters as a few swipes broke through the light.

“Everyone, back up!” Shadowheart called out the command as the shadows swarmed on one side of their clustered group.

They parted to give her room, moving behind her and to the sides just in time for her to unleash a giant beam of radiant energy through the remaining enemies. The shadows and wraiths dissipated into the surrounding darkness and Yonas’s body fell to the ground.

“Argh, how can something made of shadow and mist hurt so bad?” Karlach groaned as she held her side where a small black scrape was etched into her skin.

“Here, love.” Tav dug a small healing potion out of her bag. Karlach drank it in one gulp and let out a sigh of relief as the injury faded. The curly-haired woman approached them.

“Well done, but we need to move. I know a safe place if you–”

“Last Light Inn?” Tav cut her off.

“Y-yes. How did you know?” The Harper gave her a bewildered look, followed by more suspicion.

“I found this letter on a Harper in Grymforge.” Tav handed over the parchment for her to read. “We need to find a way into Moonrise Towers. Can you help us?”

“Jaheira will want to speak with you.” She tucked the paper into her pocket. “Please, join us at Last Light.”

Tav’s breath caught.

She is here, she’s found a safe haven.

“We’ll follow behind you.”

***

The short fight left Halsin drained. Seeing the shadow beings in action again, watching yet another person be twisted and claimed by the curse, it was almost too much to bear. He tried to take a step, but his legs wouldn’t comply, the horrid memories of Moonrise left him frozen in place and unable to act.

The group of Harpers said something to Tav that he couldn’t make out before running back in the direction from which they came. She stood there looking after them, motionless. In the dim firelight he could just barely perceive the tremors rolling over her body. The sight caused the ache in his chest to return, and the energy to flow back into his muscles. He jogged up to her side and quickly pulled her into a hug, realizing he needed it as much – if not more – than she did.

“I thought I could handle this…” Her breathing was unsteady, and her entire body was shaking.

“We can, Tav. We’ll do it together.” He assured her as he held her tight against him. She reached up and hugged him back as she buried her face into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry. We had no idea…” Karlach had joined them down by the brazier. “This darkness is heavy.”

“That it is.” Halsin kept his arms tight around Tav as he rested his chin on top of her head.

“Last Light Inn.” Her words were muffled by his shoulder.

“What did you say?” He pulled back to look at her.

“They’re going to Last Light, it’s somehow safe from the shadows. Jaheira’s there, Halsin.”

Amidst the fear, he could see hope shining through her eyes.

She thinks Tev might be there as well.

“Then let us make haste.”

***

Last Light Inn was only a short walk away from the small clearing where they fought the shadows. Tav’s heart started pounding as they approached a large dome of light. A familiar light teeming with Selûnite magic. The moment she crossed its threshold, the warmth flowed back into her body, giving her a moment of respite from the curse. She took in her surroundings, surprised to see so many people gathered here. And not just Harpers. The symbol of the Flaming Fist adorned many breastplates that passed her by. She even saw children running around, tiefling children.

The dream visitor’s voice glided into her thoughts. “This must be the refuge the Harpers spoke of.”

“Yes, this is Last Light Inn.” Tav replied in her mind.

She scanned the small crowd for the Harpers she met earlier, hoping they could point her to Jaheira. Before she could locate them, another group of Harpers surrounded her and her companions.

“Hold it right there!” A young woman shouted as she pointed a crossbow at Tav’s chest. She held her hands up in front of her.

“Easy!” The curly-haired Harper came running to her defense. “She’s with me.”

“Lassandra, what is the meaning of this?” A stout dwarf pointing a sword at Karlach’s abdomen called back at her.

“This is the woman who fought the shadows with us. She had the letter.” Lassandra beckoned them to stand down. After a moment they complied, still giving Tav and the others apprehensive looks.

“Come with me.” Lassandra waved for her to follow.

Tav took the lead as her friends trailed a few steps behind, each of them on high alert. She took in the crowd around her, desperately hoping she would see those messy white curls come running toward her.

It’s been so long. Could we even recognize each other?

“Jaheira!” Lassandra called out as they walked into the small courtyard. Hearing her name snapped Tav back to reality.

Standing before her was the High Harper herself, Jaheira. A grand hero of Baldur’s Gate. Tav expected an introduction, or at least some kind of greeting. Instead, she found herself tangled in a large patch of conjured vines. Lunari crouched into a protective stance, her jowls shaking with a low snarl.

“Is this how the High Harper greets her allies?” Tav struggled in vain against the vines. Even if she reached out to them, it was obvious that Jaheira had a much stronger connection to them than she could ever hope to have herself.

“Of course not. I greet my allies with fine wines. But you?” She gave a polite smile as she pulled out a small jar containing a mind flayer tadpole. It started to writhe and pound against the confines of the glass as soon as it came into view of Tav.

“You are no ally. I could smell the foul odors of Grymforge the moment you crossed the moon shield. You should not have come here, True Soul.” Jaheira gave a curt nod to her Harpers who drew their weapons, causing Tav’s companions to do the same.

“I am not…a True Soul…” She grunted as she struggled against the vines threatening to crush her legs.

“What are you doing?!” A young tiefling girl came running up to Jaheira.

Mol? What is she doing here?

“She’s the one who saved us!” Mol recalled the events of the Emerald Grove with Jaheira, assuring her that Tav and her companions were the ones that helped them escape. Tav tore her attention away from the vines and realized how many tiefling faces she recognized around the inn.

“A True Soul with a mind of her own? How is this possible?” Jaheira looked from Tav to each of her companions. Halsin stepped up next to her.

“High Harper Jaheira,” he gave his typical fisted salute with a small bow of his head, “my name is Halsin Silverbough. Until recently, I was Archdruid of the Emerald Grove.” Tav’s head whipped around to look at him. His voice had taken on a commanding tone, one she only heard when he was addressing others as Archdruid. A stab of embarrassment hit her as she tried to hide the blush that this voice brought to her face.

Silverbough?

Jaheira looked him up and down before glancing back at their strange adventuring group.

“Halsin? Master Alwin spoke highly of you. I heard you had taken his place after his untimely death. A shame we must meet under these circumstances.” Jaheira reluctantly dismissed the vines holding Tav in place. She saw a quick flash of grief pass over Halsin’s face.

“He was too kind, I’m sure.” Halsin let out a shaky breath, his tone dropping to a more casual one for just a moment.

“You are infected as well?” She asked, one hand resting on the scimitar at her hip. Right on cue, the tadpole in her hand slowed its writhing when Halsin stepped in front of Tav.

“No, I was studying the tadpoles and had the good fortune to meet the adventurers you see behind me.” He gestured to their traveling party before walking back to place a hand on Tav’s shoulder. “I will gladly vouch for them. They saved my life and stopped a slaughter at the Emerald Grove from the inside and out.”

“Excuse me!” Mol yelled with her hands on her hips. “I already gave my word for her, what? The word of a tiefling not good enough for you?”

Karlach let out a loud laugh at Mol’s outburst. “I like this kid!”

“I appreciate the plethora of associates you have to speak on your behalf. Yet my question still stands,” Jaheira’s hand twitched toward her weapon again, “how is it that an entire group the infected remain in complete control of their minds.”

Tav reached into her bag slowly to produce the artefact. “Because of this.”

She told Jaheira everything she knew about the strange relic, which to be fair, wasn’t much. She also told her of their adventure so far, how they had traveled through Grymforge to reach Moonrise, hoping to infiltrate the cult. The others in the group chimed in every now and then to back up her stories. As they spoke, the mind flayer tadpole in Jaheira’s hand was destroyed.

“Congratulations, you have earned yourself the benefit of the doubt.” The Harpers surrounding them stood down. “We have supplies in the inn should you need them. Come find me as soon as you can, we have much to discuss.”

“Thank you, High Harper.” Tav sighed, relief washing over her after their tense encounter. Before Jaheira turned to walk away, her eyes lingered on the small tattoo of a broken sword on Tav’s throat.

“Please, take a moment to rest. The shadows drain strength from even the strongest soldiers. I will be just inside when you are ready.” Jaheira walked off towards the inn.

Tav could feel the tension in the air slowly dissipate as the uncertainty around their arrival faded. Before she could say anything, Karlach came running up to her, squealing with delight.

“Oh, my gods, soldier. That’s Jaheira. The Jaheira!” She tapped her feet in place as she watched the High Harper walk away. “I mean, you must know how incredible she is if you were a Harper.”

“I actually hadn’t met her until now, but I had heard plenty of stories even before I joined their ranks.”

“Like the Bhaalspawn crisis? I’m sure you know the stories, how she fought Sarevok Anchev in the hidden Bhaal temple beneath the city.” Karlach continued her excited gushing.

“I remember it well, yes. The murders in Bhaal’s name caused chaos in the streets. I vividly recall my mother being so upset with me for sneaking out one night to go to a tavern while the culprits were still on the loose.” Tav smiled fondly at the memory. Tev had helped her climb out of a window so they could go drink and dance in the Lower City.

“Oh, right. Sometimes I forget that you’re old.”

“I’m not old!” Tav laughed. “I happen to be in my elven prime.”

“So, what shall we do next?” Gale had stashed his torch and once again carried the icy quarterstaff he crafted in the Underdark.

“I guess I’ll go check in with Jaheira, see what she knows about Moonrise. I figure we can set up a camp nearby, best to stay close if we have a safe place from the–” Another loud shriek from Karlach cut her off.

“OH MY GODS, IT’S DAMMON!” She pointed to an area that looked like a smithy. Sure enough, Dammon stood over an anvil, hammering away at some piece of armor.

“Let’s go say hi!” Karlach took off before anyone could respond.

Tav waved the others to follow as they ran after her. By the time they caught up, she was jumping up and down with excitement.

“…touch people?!” Karlach shouted at Dammon.

Holy shit, he figured it out?

Tav felt her own excitement grow thinking about it. Had he already found a solution to her engine troubles?

“Exactly!” He smiled back at her briefly before his expression fell again. “But…there’s more you should know…”

“Yeah, yeah. First, let’s get old rusty fixed up a bit more.” She whipped around to face Tav. “Soldier! We have another piece of infernal iron somewhere, right?”

Tav dug through her backpack while Karlach vibrated impatiently next to her with one hand held out.

“Aha!” Tav tossed the metal to her, which she handed off to Dammon.

“Very well.” He turned away for a few minutes while he heated and hammered the metal. Karlach fidgeted next to her, watching him every step of the way. Tears had gathered in her eyes in anticipation of her upgrade.

“Here you go, you’ll have to install it yourself, same as last time.” Karlach pushed aside her clothes to insert the daunting machinery into her chest cavity, paying no mind to modesty as she did so. Gale and Wyll immediately averted their eyes, blushes creeping over their faces at her impromptu undressing.

After some pained grunts and upsetting grinding noises, Karlach fixed her clothing and looked around at her companions.

“Did…did it work?” She gave Dammon a pleading look.

“Only one way t–”

Before Dammon could finish, Tav leaped at Karlach, throwing her arms around her neck. She froze at first, worried that she would still burn Tav’s skin to a crisp. But there was no searing pain, no hiss of burning flesh, just warmth. Just the feeling of finally being able to hug her new friend.

Karlach’s arms shot up to hold Tav in place. They cried together as they swayed back and forth, she refused to let Tav pull away. For just a moment, she forgot all about the curse and mind flayers and the Absolute. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt such a pure joy as she did while hugging Karlach.

“Thank you.” She whispered between her sobs.

“You’re so welcome.” Tav smiled against her shoulder. Their happy cries devolved into uncontrollable laughter.

“Hey soldier?” Karlach sniffled as she kept a tight grip around Tav’s waist.

“Hm?”

“You really need a bath.”

They laughed together again as Karlach finally released her from her grip.

“I’m sure we all need one, love.” Tav wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Alright, look out everyone! Mama K is touching everything!” She let out a cackle as she took a step toward the others.

“Wait, Karlach…” Dammon started. “There’s more you need to know.”

***

Halsin fought back tears as he watched Tav tackle Karlach into a hug. After their conversation yesterday, he had been so worried about her. Seeing her get another upgrade for that infernal engine gave him at least a little bit of hope in these wretched shadows. He hung back a little, letting them have their time together.

Step one, fix my engine. Step two, giant bear hug.

He waited patiently for her to finish talking to Dammon, hoping her offer still stood. But whatever the blacksmith said next smothered the joyous air that had surrounded his companions just a moment ago. Tav looked distraught, Karlach was waving her hands back at Dammon, speaking low enough that he couldn’t quite make out the words. The smile returned to her face not long after, although Tav still looked disappointed.

Karlach started shoving her way through her companions, pulling anyone who would let her into a crushing hug. Astarion was barely able to wiggle away from her grabbing hands. Lae’zel allowed a clasp of her arm, like a warrior’s handshake. Everyone else welcomed the warm embrace. At one point she had Gale, Wyll, and Tav all in a hug at the same time. Halsin shifted his gaze to the dirt beneath him, kicking it into little piles. He felt a stab of disappointment standing over here alone, more likely than not she had forgotten about their conversation, not that he–

“HALSIN!” Karlach’s booming yell caught the attention of everyone around them. “BEAR HUG!”

He couldn’t help the ridiculous smile that spread across his face as she charged toward him, arms open wide. He held his out as well and braced himself just in time for her to slam into his chest, almost knocking some of his teeth out with her horn. She laughed as his arms wrapped tight around her shoulders.

“That’s the stuff.” Karlach sighed as she squeezed him tighter. “It’s nice to hug someone taller than me.”

“A sensation I rarely experience myself.” His smile broadened as she sighed contently against him. Tav was looking at them with a sad smile on her face and looking like she was holding back tears.

“Okay then.” Karlach pulled away from him and scanned the courtyard. “I’m off to shake the hand of every person here who will let me.” She ran off in a flash, barreling around Last Light to find her first target.

Halsin recognized Dammon now, he was one of the refugees at the grove. Looking around him, it seemed their caravan had made its way here. Many of the mischievous children had been running around since they arrived. He scanned the courtyard looking for more familiar faces but finding few.

Perhaps they’re all inside.

“Thank you.” Tav had made her way to his side again.

“Whatever for?” He turned back to her with a smile.

“For speaking up for us. I know you don’t like to throw your title around. Or former title I suppose.”

“Think nothing of it. The Harpers were our allies all those years ago, I presumed Jaheira would honor that agreement.”

“Who was it that Jaheira mentioned? Master Alwin?”

Halsin’s eyes stung once more, but an affectionate smile still took over. Despite the grief thinking of his fallen mentor brought him, he tried to remember him with warmth and fondness.

“He was the Archdruid before me, my teacher, my mentor. Although he was truly more like a father to me.”

She placed a hand on his arm.

“What was he like?”

He hesitated. It had been so long since he had spoken of him. When he first took over the title of Archdruid he spent his first days being compared to his wise and fearless teacher. He found himself walking in his shadow, one so large that Halsin could never hope to stand tall enough to cast one of his own.

“He was an incredible leader. Able to inspire courage in even the frailest of hearts. He believed there was a balance to achieve between us and nature and worked tirelessly to bring it to fruition. Master Alwin was the one who rallied our forces here at Last Light on our last day of battle.” A few tears rolled from his eyes. Until now, he had forgotten how much he missed him.

Would he have found a way to lift the curse sooner? Could he have protected the grove from the influence of the Shadow Druids? Would he have helped the tiefling refugees while keeping the peace with the other druids?

“Halsin?” Tav’s concerned voice pulled him from his spiral.

“Forgive me. It’s been some time since I’ve talked of him with another person. I didn’t quite realize how much I still miss him.”

Tav gave him a knowing look. No doubt she had her brother on her mind. She leaned forward to wrap her arms around his waist, drawing him into a hug. How was it that he felt even warmer holding her against him than Karlach?

“Best not keep Jaheira waiting too long, my friend.” He tried to force himself to pull away from her embrace, but his arms stayed locked in place. It was still another moment before she moved away.

“Care to join me?” She looked up at him to ask.

“I think you should perhaps take a chance to speak with her alone. Harper to Harper.”

“Former Harper.” She sighed.

“I doubt it will make much difference to her.” He let his hands drop from her shoulders.

“Okay then, I’ll go speak with her.” She spun around scanning the area for something, panic rising in her eyes. “Where’s Lunari?”

They found her lying on the ground, tongue happily sticking out to the side as Karlach hugged her and rubbed her belly.

“I suppose I can leave them here for now.” She smiled at the sight, but there was still a sadness clouding her expression that he couldn’t quite place.

“I’ll gather the others once Karlach has finished hugging every living soul in sight.”

“Thanks, love.”

As Tav strode away towards the inn, he couldn’t shake a nagging feeling as he observed the small crowd around him. Many tieflings that had resided at the grove were present, but something was off. They seemed to be almost in mourning. And where was Zevlor? Halsin expected he would have come out to greet their party once he heard of their arrival. He walked over to Wyll and tapped him on the shoulder. “Wyll, I think something might be wrong here.”

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #bg3 fluff #halsin silverbough #halsin fanfic

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bearhugsandshrugs · 1 month

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The Gorsimp Chronicles – Chapter 13

Gortash x Tav | Explicit

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Fic is written in turns by @bloodlessbhaalbabe and me! Dividers indicate POV changes.

The next morning Tav woke up in his arms, his breath warm against her neck. They were in the bed, somehow having moved there – she remembered him picking her up and tucking her in, but not much more beyond that – and the sun tinted the room in warm shades of orange.

Sighing, she turned around to face him, his features soft and relaxed in his sleep. Tav smiled. This . This is what she’d dreamed about for months. This is what she’d longed for, and missed, all this time while they’d been apart.

She knew that she’d fallen head over heels for him, but other than just a few nights before when she’d realized that for the first time, she wasn’t scared now. Only excited. Her heart was beating frantically at the thought of spending the rest of her life with him – should he want her to, of course.

Cringing a little, Tav remembered that she’d confessed her feelings for him (again), and she was annoyed when she realized she’d fallen asleep in the middle of the conversation. Enver had said something about not letting her dance for someone else. And… no. She must have dreamed that he loved her. Right?

She sheepishly traced the shape of his nose and the outline of his lips with her finger tips, then gently stroked his hair. Enver hummed in his sleep, nuzzling his head against hers.

Her stomach growled, making her acutely aware of the time. Sliding out of his embrace, Tav tiptoed over to the bell, then waited at the portal to talk to the butler in hushed whispers. The servant left with a nod, only to return a few minutes later with additional staff. All of them carried different trays of breakfast and drinks, setting them down in silence. They were in and out so quickly that Enver did not even stir, and Tav chuckled as she slipped back into bed, grabbing herself a cup of coffee while he snored quietly in her lap.

Tav ran her hands through his hair in calming motions until he woke up. Enver’s eyes fluttered open, confused at first but with a wide smile when he spotted her, and she quickly set the cup on the nightstand to lie down again to face him.

“Hey”, she grinned, planting a tender kiss on his forehead.

“Hey”, he replied, a wide and happy smile on his lips. “Did you… order breakfast?!”

She giggled. “I did. I’m lucky you’re such a deep sleeper.”

Enver frowned slightly – he usually wasn’t, but being around her seemed to change him in more ways than one. “Thank you”, he added, cupping her face with his palm. “I could get used to this, you know.”

Tav did not want to wake up alone ever again in her life. “So could I. You’re incredibly cute when you snore.”

He rolled his eyes. “Excuse me, Tav. I do not snore.”

She chuckled. “Sure. If you say so.”

Enver tickled her sides, delighting in the way she laughed loudly until she begged him to stop. “Fine, fine, you don’t snore! Let me be.”

Enver rolled over and pulled Tav on top of him. He slid his fingers through her fallen hair and pushed them out of her face. His hand came to rest on the crest at the back of her head and pulled her down into a soft kiss before pulling apart and brushing his nose against hers. His thumb gently caressed her cheek as he looked up at her with fond eyes.

“My not snoring is something you’re just going to have to get used to,” He said and quickly pressed one more kiss against her plump lips. “Especially if you’re still intent on living with me.”

Enver tried to read Tav’s expression. He saw a hint of her eyes widening at the sentence and cleared his throat.

“We’ll have to make a trip to Baldur’s Gate today to get some things in order… If you did.”

Tav giggled. Of course she did. But they were playful now and she felt like winding him up a little.

“Enver Gortash”, she said, voice mockingly concerned, “are you asking me to move in with you? Or marry you? Because for the latter, one usually presents a ring, you know.”

She chuckled and pressed a kiss on his mouth, not waiting for an answer. “Anyway, yes, I’d love to go to Baldur’s Gate with you. I should grab more of my things. I miss my journal, for example.” Tav sat up and looked at the breakfast. “Under one condition: We have breakfast for once.”

Enver raised his eyebrows at Tav with a smirk. Marriage mentioned twice now by Tav? He huffed out a laugh and grinned up at her. His hand still gently stroked her cheek.

“Of course, we’ll eat, get dressed, packed up, and then you’ll hold me close while you spin that portal ring I gave you to take us home,” Enver said and brought his hand down to smack her bare ass cheek before gently tossing Tav off to the side and sitting up. He grabbed Tav’s coffee cup and handed it to her then poured himself a cup and tossed a few berries into his mouth.

Tav scooted toward the edge of the bed and sat with her legs crossed as she grabbed a croissant, still warm from the oven, and tore off a little piece, placing it onto her tongue.

Enver padded his way over to the doors that led out to the terrace and took a sip out of his cup.

“We’ll have to stop by the bank to transfer funds up to Neverwinter. My apartment is paid in full, so that will be nice to have whenever we come back to visit if we wanted to,” Enver was thinking out loud and turned around to start pacing. “And then I’m sure we could stay there for one night, unless you wanted to come back to Neverwinter this afternoon to look at our options here.”

Enver paused and turned to Tav. “I just… You made a joke. You do still want this, right? To live together… I may be getting carried away.”

The way he looked at her for reassurance tugged at her heart. She set down her coffee and food and quickly crossed the room to hug him tightly before looking at him with a soft smile. “I’m sorry for joking around so much. It’s just… Gods, you make me nervous. In a good way.”

She wetted her lips and shifted from one foot to the other. “Yes I want to live with you. Waking up next to you this morning was one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I intend on repeating that as many times as you let me.”

Tav reached out to him to cup his cheek with her palm, gently brushing over his lips with her thumb. “But, uhm, can I ask you something in return?”

Enver nodded. “Of course, dear.”

“I, uhm… Fuck if you didn’t this is going to be so embarrassing… But did you say you loved me last night? Or did I dream it?” Tav bit her lip. “And to not make a joke about it again… I do. Love you. Too. Maybe. Or just by myself. But I do.” She rolled her eyes at herself. Smooth, Tav, she thought. Smooth.

Enver nodded just letting Tav stutter along with her question. His lips curled into a teasing smile as he placed his hand over the one that cupped his cheek. “I make you nervous?”

A blush warmed Tav’s cheeks and she tried to look away, but Enver caught her by tilting her head back up with his fingers. His thumb pressed against the bottom of her lip, pulling it down slightly.

“I’ve been trying to spend the last week trying to impress you, Tav. You terrify me. You are so stubborn and strong-willed. You are brilliant, intimidatingly gorgeous, and have a plethora of talents. Some talents I had no idea the scale of which you had the skills – such as dancing. I find myself at your mercy on the daily and, somehow, my fierce Tav is made nervous by me?” Enver chuckled deep within his belly. “I am honored you even grace me with your presence, my dear. I am… so deeply in love with you.”

Tav snorted and smiled, rising up on the tips of her toes to kiss him, but in a dramatic flourish Enver spun Tav around, held her close and dropped her into a low dip.

“Well, aren’t you a charmer?” Tav said with a giggle and Enver pressed his lips softly against Tav’s, slow and sensual at first, but as he leaned back up, Tav’s arms wrapped around Enver’s neck and deepened the kiss, her tongue dancing against his. Tav pulled away with a gasp and Enver pressed his forehead against hers, swaying them both back and forth with a happy grin.

“I love you, Tav,” he whispered. He meant it. Tav was the only consistent source of happiness for him over the past year. He never felt undeserving of Tav, in fact, it was almost that they deserved each other the most, but every time he saw her it was as though he still couldn’t believe this person was still around in his life. Tav saw something in him that was there all along, but needed her to show him that it was possible. A person capable of vulnerability even if it was just for her. He hoped one day he would be able to put it into words how much she meant to him, but this was a good start.

“And I love you, Enver”, Tav replied, this time more confidently. She squished his face together with her hands and kissed his mouth, the tip of his nose, and the spot between his eyebrows, still giggling. “I was getting tired of Baldur’s Gate anyway. So, yes. Let’s live together. Here. Or wherever you want to?”

Surely he’d seen more of Faerûn than she could ever imagine, and potentially he had explored other places he liked. “I just… need some time to figure out what I could do. For work, I mean.”

Tav knew deep in her heart that she wouldn’t be able to just sit at home and do nothing. The past months she had occupied herself with making connections in Baldur’s Gate, running the occasional job for a well-paying client, and those days in truth had been her better ones. The rest of the time she had often spent depressed and feeling empty, missing Enver but also the purpose that the whole endeavor against the Absolute had given her.

She gave his hand a brief squeeze before walking back to the bed and the breakfast spread, putting more pieces of the half-eaten croissant into her mouth. “Maybe I can reach out to the Zhentarim”, she thought out loud. “I would have said the Harpers, but they would just put me in a role with nothing to do. Or somewhere where I’d be gone for months on end.” She sighed and pouted before catching Enver’s gaze: He did not look happy about her ideas.

“Just a thought”, she quickly shrugged, “But don’t worry, I won’t take on anything that would send me away from you.”

“Well, you can make a decision when it comes to you,” Enver said and looked down at Tav. “All jokes aside, I’d take care of you. Give you a key to my entire savings. What’s mine is yours. I know you’ll get bored sitting around looking pretty all day, but I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

The idea of Tav patiently being a little cockwarmer while he worked on paperwork in his office or wearing scantily clad loungewear as she meandered around the house – eventually coming to pull him away from his work from laying herself across his desk. He imagined Tav sitting in front of him on his desk with her legs spread with a handful of his hair, forcing his face in between her thighs and—

Enver blinked a couple times and moved to find his duffle bag to find some clothes. He threw on a shirt and tossed a pair of pants over his shoulder before shoving two strips of bacon into his mouth from one of the trays close by.

“You could always work for me, you know. Sort of like a secret agent. No one ever expects a woman to put a dagger to their throat and I’d love to see you put people in their place when they underestimate you,” Enver smirked, “it worked with me, anyway.”

Tav grinned as she watched Enver space out for a moment, lost in thoughts, his cock half-hard as he stared into the distance before he caught himself and offered her a job.

“You’re very sweet”, she chuckled, “but I will absolutely not work for you. Unless you want me to kill you on my second day. Then, sure. I guess that could be arranged.”

She imagined having to listen to him boss her around, and in truth, she doubted they would get any work done at all should they seriously consider that type of arrangement. He would try to command her once, and she would either bark back at him until they fought and then fucked, or they would simply fuck immediately. Not the most productive practice.

Besides. She wanted meaning. Purpose. Not that Enver’s job couldn’t potentially provide that, but she wanted something of her own.

“I just want…” Tav chewed on the last piece of croissant before swallowing it down with a long sip of coffee. “Maybe I could trade information. Dress up. Walk into parties. Listen in. Steal some documents. Make a heist. I don’t know.”

Saying it felt silly, but she knew that she was actually not too bad at it. Playing a character with Enver last night had been fun, and not only because it was with him. Plus, when they had broken into the House of Hope to steal Raphael’s Orphic Hammer, she’d snooped all over the place, found documents never meant to be seen by anyone, and stolen much more than just that weapon. Frankly, she enjoyed it.

Maybe she could do it more often. Or train others to do it for her?

The idea energized her and she jumped off the bed, giving Enver a quick kiss on his cheek in passing, before hurrying into the bath. “I’ll freshen up”, she called over, closing the door behind her. “And then I can’t wait to start over with you.”

Enver hummed with appreciation imagining Tav being hired to get information on wealthy idiots using the power of body language to get them to spill their guts. Although, if any of those idiots put their hands on her in any way, their guts would be spilled onto the floor if he had anything to do with it.

He’d of course need that type of person in his life. Someone who could cause a distraction while also capable of batting their eyelashes to sneak into private areas. Enver understood that money talks, but beauty is an absolute gift. The two of them could manage and manipulate Neverwinter to their knees. Perhaps, should another election roll around, he could become Archduke of Neverwinter and actually keep his position this time around while also giving Tav the title she truly deserved.

Enver pulled on his pants, tucking away his semi for now, and tightened the strings. He strode his way over to gather their things and placed them by the door before patiently waiting on the couch, and reading the Neverwinter News, munching on a piece of bread with butter.

Tav looked like a raccoon with her kohl having smeared all over her eyes from the blissful tears last night. There was light bruising on her throat, and some other parts of her body, and she blushed remembering that she had let staff into the room looking like that. Worse. That she had confessed her love to Enver looking like that .

Well, at least she’d been committed to the bit about being his whore.

Chuckling, she washed up and put herself into a somewhat presentable state again, with light bursts of healing spells washing away the worst marks on her skin. It was pretty much all she could manage in terms of healing, but it was good enough for now.

Once she’d dressed she picked up some fruits and a cinnamon bun for the journey, held Enver tight against her body as he’d requested, and spun the ring to take them back to Baldur’s Gate. They arrived in front of the Elfsong Tavern, and she gave him a small peck on the cheek before going in. “I’ll be just a moment”, she said, “I’ll pack my stuff, grab a few items I’d like to have now, and have the rest shipped to Neverwinter.”

“A lovely idea”, Enver nodded, “And I will take care of business in my apartment as well. Shall we meet again in, say, an hour?”

“Yes”, Tav smiled. Even an hour felt like too much apart from him right now, but at the same time she really needed to coordinate a few things. Write some letters to her friends, for one. Pack. Pay out the tavern owner. And so on.

Time flew while she hurried through her room, tossing things into bags and a crate that the owner of the Elfsong had kindly provided her from his storage. She only grabbed her journal, dagger, adventurer’s pack and favorite soap, as well as the book she’d been reading. Anything else she wouldn’t need right now. She could always buy herself some new clothes, which she should probably do anyway, given the difference in climate between Neverwinter and Baldur’s Gate.

Tav giggled with excitement about their future. It hadn’t even sunken in, and maybe this was too fast, but she didn’t really care. She could always go back and leave should she desire to do so, but for now, she couldn’t imagine being apart from Enver for more than a few days at all. She was shocked at how quickly and deeply she’d fallen for him, despite the many flaws he still had – or maybe because of them. It didn’t matter. Not now, at least.

When she hurried downstairs to meet him, he was already waiting, leaning against the tavern counter with a sly grin as he saw her come down.

“Fancy meeting you here”, Tav teased, remembering the moment a few nights ago when they’d met in the bar on the other side of town. “Come here often?”

Enver wrapped his arm around Tav’s waist once she stepped close enough and pulled her close to him. He leaned down and brushed his lips against her. “Not nearly often enough. Too bad we can’t change that.”

Tav laughed and pushed him away, turning to the counter requesting her bill for the months she stayed. The bartender shook his head. “No can do, ma’am. This Gentleman paid in full.”

The bartender gestured to Enver who didn’t acknowledge it like it was anything out of the blue or deserved praise for, it’s just what you do.

“Right, shall we get going? My apartment is all taken care of,” Enver said and Tav nodded. He grabbed Tav’s bag and hooked it over his shoulder before taking her hand in his and lacing their fingers together as he led them out of the tavern and down the road to the Counting House.

As soon as they stepped into the bank, someone walked up to them and silently gestured them down the stairs. Enver led Tav down the flights of stairs until they reached the bottom of the Counting House and pulled her into a hallway that was disguised as a false wall. At the end of the hallway was a massive vault door. Enver and the banker placed their keys into the slots and turned them. A massive series of pulleys and gears sprang into action as the banker turned the giant cog and unlocked the safe. Magically infused candles sprang to life as Enver stepped into the room. He began to look over his collection of items almost as though he was searching for something. Tav walked in and blinked slowly at the sight before her.

Along the walls were shelves decorated with various trinkets, jewelry, swords, and decor. There was a small desk in the corner overflowing with patents and designs. Along another wall there was a display of various magical items ranging from a few staves, swords of different lengths, magical books and gear. But the largest surprise were the hundreds, if not thousands, of 10 pound gold bars stacked on the floor surrounded by several large potato sack bags of single gold pieces.

Tav tried to calculate the immensense wealth she was witnessing. If each gold bar was 10 pounds and each pound was roughly worth 50 GP, a single bar was 500 GP, but the bars were stacked nearly to the ceiling. As she began to add up an estimate she peered around the stack of 10 pound bars and found a few rare 25 and 50 pound gold bars. Enver, for a lack of better words, was filthy fucking rich.

Enver continued to rummage around his collection muttering to himself with his hair all mussed up, his laces undone on his shirt that lay baggy around his lean waist. A man who has all of the money in Faerun to be dripping in fine, soft clothes and diamonds, still wearing shoes that have a hole beginning to form from his toe pushing against it from overuse.

It confused Tav how someone could both live so frugally and also extravagantly at the same time. His home wasn’t humble in the slightest, but looking at him now, no one would bat an eye if you weren’t already made aware about who this man was.

“Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” The Banker chirped, but Enver grumbled something about not even knowing how to describe what he was looking for and waved him off.

“Tav, my dear, uh,” Enver turned around until he spotted her. He smiled and gestured over to the wall of magical items. “Please take anything you want or need. It’ll just sit here otherwise.”

Logically, she knew he meant well. Like it was some sort of compliment to him that he had paid for her room. And that he offered her to take whatever item she wanted, like it didn’t mean anything. Like there weren’t refugees outside who needed gold to simply pay for a meal.

Tav remembered something.

“I’m good”, she said a little colder than she wanted to, “but I just remembered I need to do something. Can you meet me back at the entrance here in an hour?”

Enver, a bit distracted, looked at her slightly confused but nodded. “Of course, dear.”

She hurried out of the vault and made her way to the Lower City until she found the Fist outpost that coordinated the ongoing efforts in supporting the refugees from Elturel as well as the people whose homes had been affected by the Netherbrain fight. Tav used her entire gold that she had set aside to pay for her room as a donation. In her eyes, Enver had paid this. It was basically the same amount. One sack of gold went to the tavern and one went here. It was simply that they’d gotten it mixed up.

After giving away her income she felt a bit better, walking back to the bank with leisurely steps. In truth, she was dragging her return out a bit because she didn’t want to pick a fight again, and she wasn’t sure if she could face him now without arguing. She had worked hard for her gold. She was proud of her work. Maybe she wasn’t as successful as him but that didn’t mean that anything she made was worthless. Even if he pretended it was.

She arrived half an hour late, hungry and cold from the delay and long walks outside, but she put on her best impression of a smile to brush over the topic for now.

“Thanks for waiting”, she greeted him, softly squeezing his hand when she stepped up next to him. “I’m good now.”

Enver’s eyebrows pinched together as soon as Tav approached him. If she thought that he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between her genuine smile and the facade she was putting on, she didn’t know Enver that well at all.

“Where did you have to go?” Enver questioned gently.

Tav swallowed and tried her best not to sound angry. “You should not have paid for my room. It made my own gold feel meaningless. And when I saw all of your wealth in your vault I felt bad. So I gave my own gold meaning again and paid the equivalent of my room’s fee as a donation to the refugees. In the Lower City.”

Enver stood up straight and crossed his arms across his chest. He opened his mouth and then closed it. He didn’t know how to respond to her. He nodded curtly and cleared his throat.

“Very well then,” he said, clearly tense as his jaw clenched. This time he gave Tav his best impression of a smile. “Shall we go?”

He turned to walk away toward Loroakkan’s old wizard’s tower and shop.

“We have a long day ahead of us,” he grumbled.

“Do we?” Tav was confused. She thought he only needed to sort out his finances. “I’m sorry, if I had known you had more errands to run you could have already gone ahead. You could have left a note at the bank”, she mumbled.

Now she was getting into a bad mood. She didn’t understand why he was grumpy now. Just because she was half an hour late?

“What else do you need to do? Maybe we can split up, be quicker that way.”

Enver kept walking toward the tower and yelled back at Tav, “No, I’m paying the tiefling to use his portal to Neverwinter unless you’d like to walk? Seems as though you’re only fond of me spending my money on you when it’s 100% your decision.”

He didn’t pause to argue about it as he entered the shop and tossed a few gold coins onto the counter.

“One way trip to Neverwinter,” he said. Rolan nodded and walked up the steps with them both and removed the ropes in front of the portal eyeing Gortash and Tav curiously.

Tav silently counted the gold pieces on the counter and rolled her eyes, before turning to Rolan with a genuine smile. “Hey Rolan. It’s good to see you again.”

The wizard nodded but sideyed Enver skeptically, a bit taken aback by his rash behavior. “Is it still the same price?”, Tav asked, and when Rolan repeated the familiar amount back to her, she took the gold out of her own bag and set it carefully on the counter.

“Looks like Lord Gortash gave you a nice tip”, she said sweetly, narrowing her eyes at Enver.

Do not make a scene , she tried to say without actually saying it. Do not.

Enver walked through the portal without another word landing him in the center of town. He waited a moment while Tav finished up her conversation with Rolan before she appeared next to him.

“I’m going to the bank here. The Counting House sent over funds so I could get us a house. I still have our room at Moonstone. You’re welcome to come with or go off and do whatever you want to do,” Enver said, handing Tav back her bag that he was holding. “Or perhaps, you could get your own room separate from the one we shared since you’re so adamant on paying your way. Maybe we should go to the bank together so that we could coordinate getting houses next to each other. Mine will be paid in full and you can get a loan.”

He knows he sounds like he’s almost bragging, but she knew he had money. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how it was perfectly okay to spoil her on her terms, but the moment he wanted to drape her in wealth it was exorbitantly affluent.

Tav took a shaky breath in, her lower lip trembling. “Do you want to hurt me? Because you’re doing a pretty good job at it right now”, she said quietly. Something pricked in the corner of her eye and she wiped at it with her sleeve, frustrated her body was so easily prone to crying.

“But hey, thanks for letting me know exactly what you think of me”, she spat out. “Someone who can never come close to any of your wealth who you’d always have to pay for. Like a parasite.”

Tav looked around: She wasn’t really sure exactly where they were, but she could figure it out. “Besides, I don’t know why you’re being so mean. I paid for something with my own gold just like you paid for something with yours. Or is it only okay if you make me feel bad, not the other way around?”

“Gods damn it, Tav. I don’t think of you as a parasite. You are putting words into my mouth and I don’t think you understand. Your money has nothing to do with my money. Every single time I’ve tried to treat you with something that was on my terms it was thrown right back into my face. I’m not counting Moonstone because you demanded to be spoiled, so I obliged,” Enver ran a hand down his face. “I’ve made it clear that you wouldn’t have to worry about finances and gave you free reign to my entire wealth, and you’re acting like I’m rubbing it in? If anything you’re the one snubbing me for trying to do something nice for you on my own terms. I have a lot of money. I’m going to spend it on you. I’m going to get us a house. If you want to work, then so be it, but don’t act like I’m treating you as if you’re beneath me because you don’t have the same level of wealth. I don’t pity you. I love you.”

She didn’t really want to do this right now, not in the middle of a random street, but he looked so serious. “You don’t understand”, Tav tried to explain it one more time. “I don’t mind you buying us a house. Or getting us staff. Or spoiling me with things. But the tavern… that was me. I worked hard for that.” Tav bit her lip, unsure how much she should say.

“After we buried ‘you’ I was… not doing well. And we’d split the gold we made during the entire Absolute business across ten people. There wasn’t a whole lot left. I was in bed for weeks. And then when I got up and worked, I felt good. And I was relieved, and proud, that I could save gold to pay for everything. And you took that away from me. That sense of accomplishment.”

She shook her head, exasperated by the entire stupid argument. “If you would have asked me about it I might have even let you pay for it! I get that it’s not a big deal for you. But it was for me!”

Tav sighed, unsure if any of what she said made sense. “Man, of course I’d rather have spent my gold on a nice dress to surprise you with. Or maybe that one specific vintage Thayan Red I’ve always wanted to try. But it’s…” She shrugged. “I just need you to let me be proud of myself. Of course I know you could pay for everything I ever wanted for the rest of my life, and honestly, you probably will because you’re annoyingly stubborn and I love you too much to leave you over something so silly. But I will feel better, be happier, if you let me have my own stuff, too.”

“Well, I didn’t take away your sense of accomplishment with ill intent or on purpose,” he muttered sheepishly, feeling a little deflated after hearing her explanation. “I figured why spend your money on something that didn’t matter, like the bill at the inn, and use your money on, I don’t know, making your name known so you can start getting jobs in Neverwinter. Or when I offered you those magic items it was in case you found something that would have been beneficial to your success.”

Enver sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“My love, all I want is to see you thrive. I apologize for haphazardly tossing money at people on your behalf. I won’t promise to stop doing it, but I shall be more mindful in the future. At the very least you can allow for me to put a roof over your head, have well-paid servants to take care of the mundane house duties, put food in your belly, and then at the end of the day fuck you so well you’re shaking and crying, but in a good way this time,” he teased the last part as he wiped away a loose tear. “As much as I loved that little role play we did, I know I cannot keep you bound to our home like a little pet. At least not all the time.”

Tav gave him a small smile, feeling better about it all. “Okay”, she sighed, “and do I get this right: You like spending money on me? Because I have quite a few things I’d like, actually.”

She tried to joke a bit, but there was also truth in it: She’d always dreamed of having a garden, and a chicken coop, not to mention that she needed new clothes.

Enver’s eyes brightened at her question and request, a smile matching hers lighting up his face. “Come with me to the bank. Take whatever you need. I don’t have to know about it. If it helps, pretend it’s already yours anyway. I’ll be sitting with the men at the bank for a while going over deeds and paperwork. If you give me a list of your requirements, I promise not to disappoint when it comes to selecting our home. That way you can go shopping to get your things? Oh and if you go shopping, run up to Moonstone and ask for an attendant to go with you so you don’t have to carry your things around. They’ll send you with a horse and carriage too.”

Tav looked at him with uncertainty and Enver chuckled.

“I know, I know. One last day where you can get everything you want without spending a dime of your own money, and outside of gifts, you’ll have your own separate accounts from your jobs. Does that sound good?”

Tav hugged him tightly and hummed when he stroked her hair while he held her. “Almost perfect”, she said, pulling away from him to look him in the eyes. “I would never forgive myself if I wasn’t there when you selected the house we’ll live in together. Maybe you can narrow it down to two or three and we’ll look at them together tomorrow? I know it takes a bit more time, but I do want to take a look myself. Make sure the rooms are how I envision them. Oh, and the garden! It needs some shade, too. And the area where we can put the chickens–”

Enver raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“Yes, we’re getting chickens, don’t ask”, Tav chuckled. “Anway, I was thinking…”

She started describing everything she wanted to him: the different bathrooms, and tubs with running water. The quarters for the servants. Enough rooms for guests, or offices, or… other family members. In the future. A library. A basement. High ceilings. – She had so many ideas, and now that they’d discussed the money it was almost as if a dam had broken, with everything just bubbling out of her in a constant stream of ideas.

When she realized she’d been talking at him for three minutes, she bit her lip. “Uhhh— sorry. Anyway, do you think we can do that?”

Enver didn’t have much of a say of how he wanted his home to look as he recalled his suite in the highest part of Wyrm’s Crossing with his single room and single sized bed. He desired a view, hot running water on demand, servants to do the cleaning and cooking, and Tav in his bed every night he could have her. He was a man of simple means at the end of the day. Growing up with nothing and only recently coming into money – old habits die hard.

“If there isn’t a home that meets those requirements, then I will have one built from the ground up, my dear,” he said before pressing his lips onto her forehead. He took back Tav’s bag and lugged it over his shoulder. “Come now.”

He took them over to the bank and spoke with the headbanker who had just been teleported his deposit. Again, Enver requested the highest security clearance vault to place his savings and let Tav go down to select what she needed. Enver walked over to the offices on the side and began discussing the available options within the city and his budget limitations.

Tav entered the vault and a similar display of gold greeted her, but significantly less than what she had witnessed before, perhaps half of what was presented previously. To the side, there was a small spread of magic weapons, armor, and jewelry with a little note attached that said ‘set aside for Tav’ written in Enver’s writing. These items weren’t the same ones she had seen before and they must have been what he was looking for when he walked into the vault in Baldur’s Gate. There also was a large, enchanted, embroidered money sack laying next to it so that she could take what she wanted with ease.

#enver gortash #gortash x tav #tavtash #bg3 tav #gorsimp #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #it's those two idiots again #i love them your honor

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fiendpact · 6 months

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i finally finished bg3 for the first time and am now wondering what your thoughts are on the ending/epilogue.

i kind of got lucky because i romanced gale (which gave him and my tav exactly the ending i was hoping for) and my tav's best friends were wyll and karlach so their joint epilogue ending was cool as well. but beyond that, i feel a little empty :( i could say lae'zel also kind of got closure for me, but astarion just had to run off screaming because the sun hurts him now and the others didn't even say anything. the moment before you head out for battle where all your allies say one last thing about you honestly felt more emotional to me than the moment you last see your companions.

i think a little celebration at the end where you could talk to the characters one last time would be cool but i wish we at least got DAI-style narration over pictures, just to know how everyone is doing (and i feel like that wouldn't be too hard to make?). it's like i got ripped out of the story at its storm-like climax and not at the "clouds parted, sun out: we get to finally go to sleep without worries" ending i'm used to in pretty much all media. idk if it's just me though.

NO IT IS NOT JUST YOU…. man i had so much to say abt this when i first beat the game but apparently i put it NOWHERE except into my best friend’s brain. so lemme see what i can say.

i also got the karlach and wyll in avernus ending and i rly liked it, that felt like a solid ending. nicely wrapped up their quest lines. but that was rly it?? nothing happened with shadowheart, the only thing i remember is her commenting that we’d be seen as heroes in baldur’s gate if we stayed. i had to convince lae’zel not to run off on me because i didn’t free orpheus, and i was mostly satisfied with that bc it seems like it opened her up to truly find her own path in life. i fucked up gale’s bc i didn’t really process the mystra deal so i told him to leave that damn crown in the water, and he kinda went “i guess that’s for the best” and that was like, the end of it.

so chronologically i ‘finished’ gale, lae’zel, and shadowheart, and then i got the astarion scene where he runs off because of the sun before karlach and wyll’s final scene. my literal love interest was in so much sudden pain that he had to flee the scene, and i didn’t get a single dialogue option to respond with? nothing but one companion making a smart mouthed and/or indifferent comment? and i couldn’t go after him bc that was immediately followed up by karlach’s final scene (which only had wyll and halsin present, for some reason). yeah you could say i was unhappy LMAO and that’s not even to mention his actual epilogue which - spoilers - is maybe two minutes of dialogue in an unknown location that doesn’t even discuss his hasty exit and feels barely more than a chat between friends. and now even THAT’S bugged 😭

anyway i think you’re so so right, i absolutely think we needed a final companion get together like in dai. they literally in the end dialogues talk about going to a tavern or something and i think had we gotten that instead of the disjointed scene on the shoreline it could’ve felt more conclusive and satisfying, bc it did feel very abrupt overall

also i think there was actually meant to be epilogue slides at some point? that could be a rumor though idk but that would’ve been nice too bc as it stands the only companions that i have any knowledge about post-game are astarion, wyll, and karlach. three out of nine people i had recruited. it’s weird! it’s disappointing! i came out of my first time beating the game mostly underwhelmed because act three felt so messy to get through and there wasn’t much of a payoff. i definitely see why so many people don’t finish act three…

anyway i’m typing all this in a car rn so i hope it makes sense but tldr you are not alone!! the ending/epilogue was largely unsatisfying for me as well 😔

#ty for giving me an excuse to talk abt this lol i can’t believe i never did…#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #anon #asks

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amorficzna · 8 months

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WIP wednesday

Thank you thank you for tagging me @smoreofbabylon for this Wednesday! I don't have anything particularly written up for any of my current WIPs so below the cut are bits and pieces of an idea I've been playing around with for a Gale and Tav pre-tadpole sort of meeting and beyond...

I'M SORRY IF THIS TAV NAME IS TAKEN OR SOMETHING I ACTUALLY GOT LUCKY WITH A NAME GENERATOR FOR ONCE LMAO

uhhh hnngg Wednesday is slowly slipping away so maybe I shall tag folks for next week?? @optiwashere, @thalzad (if you're writing anything rn!), and anyone else seeing this, if you feel so inclined!!

----------------------------

He had almost forgotten about it, his mother had supposedly arranged it so long ago. And his mother, after all, was known for her flights of fancy and her empty threats.

“I let you have that tressym, after all,” she always said, and so he thought the mention of an arrangement was just another tressym.

Something that there was a threat of, but never to materialize. And yet he should have known better. His mother was nothing if not chaotic, throwing together contracts and fancies at a whim only to regret or forget them later. But, to him, it did not seem that there was much regret in her face as she twirled the little spoon in her tea.

“I told you not to come, mother,” he said, the orb pulsing dangerously against his skin.

He wished Tara were here for moral support if nothing else. But she was off finding more magical objects for him, for whenever his orb would hunger again, and his collection was slowly dwindling as it was.

She waved her hand flippantly, “I don’t care if you have a new tattoo or whatever other magical decoration you have going on there. You know why I’m here,” she smiled warmly at him then, the creases in her face making themselves known, “And I’ve missed you dearly, of course.”

He twisted his lips into a half-grimace, half-smile. It would not do to make his mother worry. It would just make it harder to get her out the door. Better to satisfy her whims, then install better locks on his doors. He reached over to put another cube of sugar in his own tea, then two in his mother’s. Only then did she finally take a sip of it.

“I’ve missed you too, of course. Now please, I know that look in your eye and so this is not only a social call, is it? What is it that’s on your mind, mother?”

“You remember Taveliss?”

He squinted, “Doesn’t particularly ring a bell.”

She waved her hand again, “Ah, no matter. It was very long ago, after all. The last time you met her must have been brief, and before you were off to the Academy, surely. Even I did not remember that I had offered your hand, but, well, it seems that Madame Gist did! And what good that would be for us, too, considering they have the most intricate purples that I know you love so much.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know the Gist, family, dear.”

“Of course I do. You love their dyes, and that has rubbed off on me quite a bit, dear mother. What does - Thilessi, was it?”

“Taveliss.”

“What do they have to do with this conversation? In fact, what do the Gists have to do with this at all?”

...

It was either indulge mother or tell her about his predicament in full. And that would lead to serious scolding, followed by her inability to leave him alone, and perhaps goddess murder.

...

She was the worst of everything he hated. She had no appreciation for the arts - she did not know poetry nor at least pretended to, she did not appreciate the intricate rituals of writing or painting, nor did she spend her afternoons dabbling with musical instruments, her evenings spent at operas and ballets hosted at the Gate. She had no appreciation for the sciences - she didn't have the head for physics or mathematics, and she was a sorceress, she hissed, with no need for formal training.

Despite her lack of ambitions, she was not even at least pleasant to be around.

...

She was no Mystra. Not even close. Not even an iota of the beauty and magnificence of his goddess.

“If you were truly a pragmatist, you would shave your head.”

She flinched at his comment, but tried to mask it by turning her nose up at him.

...

“You really think that woman is a good match for me?”

His mother patted him on his arm. It was not the type of pat she gave when she was being loving, the kind he lulled into. No, this was her polite pat.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale x tav #bg3 fanfiction #morena dekarios

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static-sulker · 5 months

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Tavs as an Origin Character

I know I mainly get attraction only when I post about middle aged men BUT RIGHT NOW I WANNA TALK ABOUT MY TAVS, AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME

This first one Is Sylvan, storm sorcerer tiefling man who has a grudge against everything

Sylvan Diresturm was my first character and my baby. He was born of a regal family and set to marry and have a life planned out completely for him. This was because of his very special power, that needed to be controlled.

His family was set in Waterdeep and known for it's long tiefling heritage and deeply rooted magic, but Sylvan was the first to harness the storm, which could expand the power of the Direstrum family. It was a bit nauseating to try and exist in the world he was pushed into and not really have a choice in his life. The day he was taken on the nautiloid is the day he was meant to marry is arranged fiance, Toraline. He planned to take a break from the life and see whats beyond and if he really wants this life. He planned this with his most trusted assistant who helped with all of his problems around the manor, Arador. They MIGHT have been in love. Maybe. Sylvan won't say anything. When they reached outside the city, the nautiloid took both of them up. While Sylvan got his pod open by the Emperor, Arador wasn't so lucky with his tadpole. He became a follower of the Absolutist at moonrise towers.

His questline if he could be like an origin character would be something along the lines of "The bejeweled Sorcerer" and have a subquest (like karlach) called "The Heart Of The Storm" that goes over what to do when they meet Arador. His story would go through whether he uses his powers to betray the Direstrum family and become his own person. OR if he rejoins the Direstrum family. To not rejoin the family, he needs to go through a more positive playthrough of helping people, specifically with characters with harsher lives (The tieflings in the grove are a pivotal point). He needs to learn that he needs to help people on the ground then just living lavishly. If he goes through a worse playthrough, he'll believe the world won't work for him and needs to go back to his home.

In epilouge, he either returns as a growing bounty hunter and is more happy then not, with whoever he was romanced/romanced by in a lovely little cabin close to Waterdeep. If not, he returns as a noble of the family, and is a lot stricter and closed off. In this run, he cannot be romanced as he returns to his forced marriage.

He's pretty serious and acts like a middleground of Wyll and Minthara (good but still stern). In my route, I romanced Gale so I like to think of how that would go. When Slyvan speaks his last name for the first time when he introduces himself (As an Origin, I think of him being found near the ruins and in a heated conversation with the guys there already. He seems to just be trying to ask if they had seen a friend of his, while the guys-idk what they are called I never remember- believe they are trying to trick him) Gale goes instant fan due to the magical support the Direstrum family has given to Waterdeep. Sylvan is kinda confused by a strange Wizard Man because he barely sees other people in WaterDeep that aren't specifically in the manor. He's not the best at getting out often, so seeing a local know his town more then he does is interesting to say the least.

As an origin character, Sylvan starts the path to romance early, but it isn't anything like actual romance yet. He's still hoping for Arador, but his voice lines will change when speaking with you. Normally it's something stupid like "What is it you need?" or "hmm?" but when seeing a partner with a high approval and specifically is choosing more flirty responses and continue down the path of romance on him he'll be more nervous. "Oh-hells-Hello! What can I do you for?" or "Ah, just the person I was-erm-thinking about." and it's stupid and dorky. MAINLY cause he's a lot more stern. He fully can get the romance path once Arador is revealed to be a follower of the absolute. Arador can either get saved but he won't be the same or he can get killed. If saved, he'll leave and try his own life, but if he dies...Well he dies and Sylvan will be SAD. He'll be a bummed for awhile but he'll chill down. He'd probably set up his tent nearby Wyll and Gale in the main act 1 spot, near the fire in the Shadow-curse (Scared of the dark, won't say shit) and up near withers in baldurs gate. his whole getup is all fancy, like a good mixture of Laezel and Gales.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 oc thoughts #baldurs gate tav #Tavs as Origin Character #my ramblings

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jupyt3r · 5 months

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Brilliant

After defeating the netherbrain, Tav returns with Astarion to the Underdark to deal with the consequences of releasing 7,000 hungry vampire spawn after stopping the rite of ascension. Astarion learns to navigate a complicated relationship with his siblings in the absence of Cazador's influence. Tav tries to show him that he's worthy of her love.

Chapter 1: Sunburn

Astarion flinched as Tav spread the cool balm across his cheek. He sat in front of her on the edge of the ornate bed in their room at the Elfsong. His skin, for so long unused to gentle touches, prickled at the soft motion of her fingers as she soothed them over his burns. He shifted his focus to the dust motes dancing lazily in the evening sunlight streaming in from the window, which he'd insisted Tav open (much to her disapproval) despite it being the cause of his burns in the first place. After all, this would be the last chance he'd have for a while to see the city – his city – before they departed. He wanted to remember it the way he could see it now, peering through the curtains: bathed in golden light, which glimmered off the rooftops and waters of the Chionthar beyond, like magic.

“ Tch, " Tav fretted as her hand clutched his jaw and gently guided his head back from where he'd unintentionally leaned around her to better view the window. “This is going to peel badly in a few days when the blistering goes down. We're lucky it wasn't any worse."

“Yes, darling, lucky for you. We both know how much you’d miss this pretty face," he smirked, meeting her eyes. Of course he couldn't see his reflection to know to extent of the damage (perhaps a blessing in this instance), but it felt horrible, so he assumed he must look a sorry mess.

"Not what I meant,” she replied, playfully swiping a glob of balm on the tip of his nose before screwing the tin shut and packing it along with the rest of their effects. He rose from the bed and snaked his arms around her waist to pull her against him, leaning down to retaliate by rubbing his nose off on her cheek, then continuing lower to place an appreciative kiss on her neck. He lingered there a moment, inhaling her warm scent before straightening and releasing her. His hesitation had not gone unnoticed.

"Why don't you feed? You'll need energy for the journey, and to heal.”

"A tempting offer, my love, but I'll be alright. You need your strength as well.” He still couldn't believe that she could willingly offer herself to him, despite all they'd been through together. Whatever selfless yet stupid motivation had led her to propose the idea that first night in the face of all self-preservation, he'd never understand. She'd have gotten herself killed if he were in less control of his more monstrous impulses.

Proving him right, she turned around to face him, shifting her hair and exposing her delicious , fragrant jugular. “Come on, Star… you’ve barely left this room in days. I know you must be starving.”

His pupils widened and he swallowed, staring at her neck. She was right. Ever since the business with the netherbrain and the regrettable death of his tadpole, and with it, his time in the sun, he'd been sulking at the Elfsong, putting on appearances only to bid farewell to their companions as they departed for their next adventures: Wyll and Karlach to Avernus; Lae’zel to the Creche; and Shadowheart with Isobel and Aylin to the Selunite enclave. Only Gale remained, and he intended to stay and explore newfound purpose rebuilding the city. As for Astarion and Tav, they were about to leave for the Underdark, to take on the task of leading 7,000 angry vampire spawn- a small feat which posed no dangers at all, surely. It was quite the journey to get there, one which would be made all the worse if he was hungry. And he was hungry.

He leaned in and closed his eyes, letting the siren call of her blood overwhelm him. “You're sure?" he whispered against her soft skin, his voice deep and breathy. Betraying his desire.

“Yes," she answered, bringing her hands to tangle in his hair, holding him there. He needed no more encouragement. Sinking back down to the bed, he pulled her in to straddle his thigh as his fangs pierced her neck.

Gods, she tasted heavenly. After two centuries of dining on nothing but vermin, it was sometimes all he could do to resist her offers. What had he possibly done to deserve her? Reflecting briefly on his long and rather tragic life, he concluded that he didn't. He set his mind to the impossible task of stopping, determined not to sap too much of her strength before their journey. She'd bear it in quiet bravery, like always, and he didn't want her to have to. He pulled back, savoring one last taste as he trailed his tongue up her neck where the wounds had dripped. She shivered and pressed her head against his chest, letting the dizziness pass.

“You are perfect. Every time."

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion and tav #please be niceys to me this is my first fic in 10 years #you can read the rest on ao3 #jupyt3r writes

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hankwritten · 3 years

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Keep in a Cool Dry Place

Demoman/Soldier, 3k

A couple of old, past their prime mercs live out their days, but at least they’re slowly breaking down together.

Oftentimes, Jane would go out onto the deck to find Tavish fixed in place, chin tilted skywards, soaking up the stars for all they were worth. He could be like that, sometimes for hours, eye glossy against the Milky Way as he stood so still he could make a statue proud.

“You’re up awful late,” he said to Jane, unmoving. Probably had realized Jane had been watching for a while now.

“Could say the same to you,” Jane said, pulling himself into a deck chair with a great cascade of air from his smoker’s lungs, the grunt of an old man he always thought was an exaggerated affectation until it started happening to him.

“I don’t get up at five in the morning,” Tavish reminded him.

“You could. Good for the health, Tavish.”

“I don’t think anything’s good for the health these days. Just bad, and slightly worse.” He drummed his fingers on the deck’s railing. “C’mere, look at this.”

“I can see the damn stars just fine from here,” Jane sniffed.

Tavish broke from his surveying to shoot a grin Jane’s way, features cut sharp in the porch light. “Come on you old fart, get over here.”

Jane grumbled, pushing out of the chair with more effort than he would have liked to admit. He made his way to Tavish, joining him at the railing, their shoulders brushing just briefly until Tavish swung an arm around Jane’s waist.

His voice took on a fading quality all of the sudden, as though far away winds were dragging him skyward. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

Jane watched him. In the past few years his good eye had grown white in the center, a fuzzy film growing out from the pupil that would one day take the whole cornea. It was irreversible, Tavish had explained, years of buildup from stromnium or strotenium or something like that, Jane could never remember. Tavish wasn’t surprised, had told Jane that he was shocked he’d still had the thing this long, but that didn’t mean there was no mourning within the man. It was just different than how most people would have gone about it.

“Sure is,” Jane said. “Real beautiful.”

“Aye. And you ‘n me, we’re not seeing the half of it. Those telescopes, the ones the size of whole buildings, all they have is a bunch of different magnifying glasses and yet when they put ‘em all together you can see whole galaxies that weren’t there before. Same sky, just some folks can see it, some folks can’t.”

“You can still see it,” Jane reminded him, a gentle bump to the shoulder.

“For now,” Tavish agreed. He turned, smiling with just the corner of his mouth, a testament that was gone before Jane could fully appreciate how much he loved the small, sad ways he chose to be happy. A hand came up to brush the side of Jane’s cheek. “I just keep thinking about how one of these days will be the last day I see you.”

Their foreheads came together. Jane’s hand rose to cover the one across his cheek, thumb rubbing the small band of gold on Tavish’s finger. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe this; despite the decades, despite the promises made on cold desert nights, despite watching the grey hairs spring in Tavish’s beard and knowing the same was happening to him, it was still hard to fathom that someone had chosen to spend the rest of their life with him. Even though the years with Tavish came close to outnumbering the years without, that time in Jane’s life of infinite loneliness, of stubborn self sufficiency, made him question how he was ever lucky enough that someone had hung on their sense and decided he was worth it.

Jane pulled Tavish closer. “Yeah. Well. If you’re going to keep a last image of me in your head, I really wish it was back when I was still handsome.”

Tavish laughed, swaying them both slightly in the unusually still air. Normally winds rattled the badlands, stirring up loose sand and seething through plants too hardy to notice. It felt like, for once, the world had chosen to be kind this night, just for them.

“You get handsomer every day Jane,” Tavish said, and hidden behind the words were each day I love you more. “I just…miss.”

“Miss how things used to be?”

“More than that. I’ve got the ‘ole yearning, I suppose, the eater of men.” Tavish chewed his words, looking up at the sky again. “I miss places. I miss how everything used to feel, even if it wasn’t terribly good.”

“Not talking about going back to your home planet, are you?” Jane joked, jerking his thumb at the now witnessed stars.

“No,” Tavish snorted. “Not exactly. But I…” He trailed off.

Now it was Jane’s turn to bring his hands to the sides of Tavish’s face, his own ring warm from where he’d been cradling it inside his fist. “What is it, Tav? You can tell me.”

Tavish looked not at the stars nor the horizon, but the ground, kicking the wooden deck neither of them had ever gotten around to re-staining. “I feel…I feel the hills always calling out to me. Like there’s something in my bones that just wants to rest, to go back where it’s green, to where it isn’t so bloody dry. Every time we visit I think ‘is this the last time I’ll ever see it? The very last time? Am I going to be too old or too tired the next time around, and never feel like I’m home again?’”

Jane watched the worry lines in Tavish’s forehead. “You want to go back to Scotland.”

“I dunno. Just the more my eye goes the more I…I dunno.”

They hung in silence for a while longer, just breathing. Jane hadn’t felt the need to wear his helmet for a long time, not at home, not at this mansion that was their private oasis from the rest of the world. Were money made their problems—if not vanish—then kept far back beyond the fence where they never had to think about them unless they ventured beyond. Where, even with BLU’s protection no longer keeping the various chapters of local and federal law enforcement trying to wrangle some comeuppance out of the soldier for sins past, he still had a place of refuge.

“Let’s go,” Jane said.

Tavish looked away. “I don’t mean for a visit Jane, I mean…”

“I know,” Jane insisted. Tavish’s milky eye fixed him with disbelief. “You want to go home. I get it. We should go.”

Tavish stared at him, still uncomprehending. “Jane you know that would mean…”

“I know,” Jane repeated.

A warm, subtle smile filled Tavish’s face, and neither of them had to say any more. Tavish drew Jane in closer, and the two of them rocked in the wind that had just picked up again.

***

“Jane,” Tavish frowned as he examined the box Jane had dropped thunderously at the bottom of the stairs, “do you really need to bring all of these?”

“Hey, I’m not trying to make you get rid of your treasured possessions,” Jane pointed out, depositing a second box filled entirely with Guns & Haircuts net to the first.

“We’re not going to have space for these,” Tavish retorted. “It’s going to be a tiny little thing, remember? They don’t build mansions in Ullapool.”

Moving had left the New Mexico mansion barren and faded where pictures had hung on the wall since Tavish had first moved in. Now they were all gone, sold off as their attempts to downsize left only what was necessary and a few DeGroot family heirlooms.

It twisted something in Jane to see their home of three decades slowly dismantled into carpet scuffs and cardboard boxes. This had been his dwelling longer than any other, a turning point from when the Gravel Wars had folded in on themselves and left Jane with an odd freedom he had no idea if he was allowed to act on. Even before that, when Tavish’s mother had still been alive and the halls were filled with her vigor, this place was safe haven for Jane, where he’d come to meet with his forbidden friend and get wasted in his living room.

Now it was mostly empty. Ready for the last goodbyes.

“These are important,” Jane declared of the boxes.

“You haven’t read them in ages,” Tavish pointed out.

“So? They are valuable. Scout sold his whole Bonk! Boy collection for a fortune, and I’ve got twice as many as that little squirt does!” Jane cleared his throat suddenly. “Did.”

It was hard to remember sometimes. He thought his old teammates would want nothing to do with him after the end, but to his surprise they actually kept in contact better than when they’d actually worked together. Maybe owing to the fact he now had an actual address they could send letters to.

Neither Spy nor Sniper had ever actually retired, and over time the tepid, passably courteous correspondences with Sniper had stopped a few years after Spy disappeared entirely. Jane assumed something similar had happened to them both. Occupational hazard.

Engie had complications with his diabetes. The remaining team had shown up for the funeral, except for Pyro, who everyone politely wouldn’t mention, even when Jane asked.

The one person Jane hadn’t expected to outlive was Scout. Scout didn’t write, but he could talk anyone’s ear off, and when coming home from the second funeral in as many years it hit Jane hard that he’d never hear the kitchen phone ringing off its holder again, practically trembling as the other line was just dying to tell him about whatever exactly Scout was so wound up about today.

Tavish noticed Jane’s slipup, and kindly ignored it. Nearly ten years, and Jane still found himself forgetting. “That’s because they were comics,” Tavish explained. “They were collectors items. The only person collecting Guns & Haircuts is you.”

“And don’t I know it!”

Tavish sighed. “Are you even planning on selling them, or are you just going to do the same thing you’ve done with them here and leave them in a big box to gather dust?”

“Of course I’m going to leave them in a big box!” Jane huffed proudly. “What other purpose is there in life other than to gather material objects and then have them accumulate in piles in your living room? You do not see me complaining about the giant, wall mounted family crest, do you?”

Tavish rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed as an old argument became even older. “Ach, fine. I suppose we’ll fine the space.” When he opened his eye, he saw the third giant box Jane was hauling out for the movers. “Jane! We don’t need to be taking that.”

“Yes we do, sonny!” Jane said, slapping a hand on the trumpet of the old record player he hadn’t been able to properly fit in the box. “I do not trust those cassette tapes! The snakes that live in them always try to come out and strangle me!”

“We’ve got some CDs now-” Tavish tried.

“Even worse!” Jane declared. “Australian mind control devices!”

Tavish could see he wasn’t winning, which was just fine by Jane. The magazines were one thing, but the record player he wasn’t leaving without.

“Well,” Tavish said, looking around their house, stripped bare. “I suppose that’s everything.”

Jane couldn’t find a reason to object. He glanced around, looking for one last missing detail, one more reason to stall, but found none. Gently, he took Tavish’s hand and squeezed. “Everything we need.”

***

Scotland was even wetter than the last time they’d visited.

Mud, the most distantly remembered and ancient of substances, clung to Jane’s pant leg all the way up to the knee as they made their way down hundred-year old paths someone really should’ve figured out how to weather-proof by now. But, where Jane was grumbling, Tavish looked about as happy as a clam in water. (Or, Jane supposed was more fitting, a pig in mud.)

“Aha! Look, there it is,” Tavish said, tugging on Jane’s arm and pointing at the glimpse of water creeping around the bend. “Still there.”

“I don’t think they would have up and moved a whole lake while you were gone,” Jane mumbled, but Tavish didn’t seem to hear as he moved with surprising speed down the hill. It was times like this Jane actually envied the cane.

When he finally caught up, Tavish was breathing in the thick air, his chest rising and then collapsing with a satisfied sigh. “Used to play down here as lad. Sometimes there’s a beach, far as the eye can see.”

“Thought you were done with sand,” Jane said, stomping up next to him on damp boots.

Tavish just breamed broadly at him, drinking in the sweep of the land and the crash of the lake. Jane could remember the stories, ones from Tavish’s childhood much better than his own, told and retold so many times that he could flip open the memories like a scrapbook and find exactly where every place in Ullapool fit. An old pub, a crumbling church. The house where the DeGroots used to live, the field where Merasmus’s castle had once briefly towered. So vivid were they, they superimposed themselves over Jane’s (admittedly more insubstantial) memories until he felt he had lived here himself.

“…Gettin’ dark, Tav,” Jane pointed out.

Tavish frowned, and squinted at the horizon. “Aye, I suppose it is.”

“Think the movers are done?” Jane didn’t approve of hiring other people to life heavy things when lifting heavy things had once been one of Jane’s favorite pastimes, but Tavish convinced him that if he threw out his back again, it’d be a lot harder to get him to a doctor.

“Probably,” Tavish nodded. “Let’s go see.”

“Do you think they dropped my magazines?”

“I’m sure they’re fine, love.”

They made the long, much more slippery journey back to their new home. It overlooked Ullapool and the coast, but was nevertheless removed enough that Jane could revel in the privacy he had grown used to. Privacy was not on Tavish’s mind when they’d walked through town that first time, however, as he’d greeted nearly everyone who came their way. It had shocked Jane how many people knew him, or at least recognized the DeGroot name, and greeted Tavish as familiarly as they would have had he been gone for only a few weeks rather than years.

It was good, to see Tavish like this. Even now, as they climbed slowly back up the hill, Jane watched him out the corner of his eye, smiling at the look of serenity that hadn’t been on his husband’s face so naturally in years.

“Isn’t this cozy,” Tavish said lovingly as they crossed the threshold of their new home.

That it was. Jane had worried he had grown soft living in luxury, that his years of being rich and retied would make him forgot that he’d once loved his little apartment, had cherished the security its simplicity had given him. But now that he was back inside four walls, surrounded by the items that had come to mean things beyond their purpose, a swell of pleasant familiarity welled up in him. The curtains blocked out the last of the fading light through soft yellow. There was a fireplace (modern and gas powered) but one ready to fill the house with a warm glow.

Tavish made the motions to begin unpacking, but Jane’s pretense of rooting though the boxes had a different goal in mind. Preoccupied, Tavish didn’t turn around until Jane finally slipped the record into place.

Perking, Tavish looked over his shoulder to see Jane offering his hand as the music bubbled slowly to life. “Been a long time since we danced,” Jane said.

Tavish’s smile fit well in this homey, quiet room. He took Jane’s hand, and let Jane pull him up off his knees until they were chest to chest, resting his chin on Jane’s shoulder.

“Too long,” he agreed.

They began sway rhythmlessly to music in the middle of the tiny living room, caring little where they put their feet as long as it wasn’t one top of one another. Jane loved the record player, needed it more these days, as it was one of the only things that made the horrid, incessant ringing in his ears quiet for just a short while. Leaving the fan on at night might help him get to sleep, but the was no denying the scratching notes out of the player were a world more enjoyable.

It was piano piece, one he’d heard Tavish play now and again. There was no space for a grand piano here in this little cottage on the hill, but maybe they could get a smaller one, and Tavish could try teaching him again. Like he’d promised so long ago.

So many promises that’d slipped through the cracks, both to each other and themselves. Things they simply couldn’t do anymore. Ever since the scare with Jane’s lung cancer, they had tried to do better, had realized what they had built meant something and they couldn’t go piddling away with their complacent recklessness. Jane had quit smoking, Tavish had quit drinking as part of the deal.

But still, there were other things, other mistakes that had compounded over the years. Jane always kept thinking he should have been over it by now, that for how many gentle touches Tavish had placed against him, he should forget the violence those same hands had once brought him. The times they’d shoved a sword into Jane’s gut. The bombs from nowhere. The individual atrocities. It was duller now, the years had been good enough to do that, but if Tavish’s memories were anything like Jane’s, he understood why the ex-demoman sometimes woke screaming in the middle of the night, needing to be reminded—soothed, assured, sometimes begged—that the Jane beside him wasn’t the monster from his dreams.

That was the real tragedy of the War. Officially, all they had been paid to do was kill each other—the horrors they chose to inflict on one another had been their own doing, their own wills brought to fruition. RED had never asked Tavish to shove Jane’s shovel down its owner's throat, laughing vengefully all the while. Jane was sure he’d done equally as cruel things to Tavish during those hell times, but had trouble recalling exactly what. It’s much easier to remember the sins committed against you, than those you have unleashed yourself.

Those hands, those bloodstained, gentle, perfect hands, rubbed circles and Jane’s back, and he sighed. He’d listened to this record enough to know it was getting to the end of this side, but he found he didn’t want to move. He wanted to keep standing here, swaying with the man he loved in their home in the mountains, remembering that they had earned this.

“I cherish these moments we spend together,” he said resolutely into Tavish’s chest.

“Every one of them,” Tavish agreed.

Eventually they would lay down, rest their old bones in their new bed, but for now they held each other in the slowly encroaching night, the sound of rain playing its first patter on the roof.

#tf2 fanfiction #demosolly #boots n bombs

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