Chapter Text
From the outside, the club was depressing. It sat looming in the alleyway, unmarked and unremarkable, drunken louts stumbling through the darkness of night. Street lamps flickered with a sickly orange glow and, although the street looked dead, it was alive with sound. Lae’zel could hear the pounding of the music from within the club, the jeers and chatter of individuals outside smoking and socialising.
A part of her wanted to turn around and leave. The heaviness in her chest was suffocating. She wanted, more than anything, to simply be in bed. But Wyll was expecting her and she did not want to let him down. So Lae’zel made her way inside, nose scrunching up as she passed a puking man, and flashed her ID to the bouncer.
Once she was through the double doors, the dull and thumping music became a loud crescendo of sound that pierced her eardrums. She watched the many mindless and horny people packing the dancefloor as tightly as a tin of sardines, sliding and undulating against each other. She pushed through them with disdain coating her face.
She wasn’t particularly used to clubs; she wasn’t particularly used to people. Here, she was forced to confront both.
At least the club had its charm, she supposed. She could tell Wyll had worked hard to make it his own, the décor grand and fanciful, but it was still a club. The people were still too drunk, the music was still too loud even if rhythmic. A year ago, she would not have been caught dead here— but this is what she’d been reduced to. What Tav had reduced her to. What she’d reduced herself to. Her life hadn’t gone well recently but she was still surprised to be in some backstreet club, ripping her feet from the sticky floor with each step she took. She’d thought herself above it.
“Come down and see me,” Wyll had implored her on the phone. “You’ve not been to my club yet and you need to get out of the house!”
It had taken some convincing but Lae’zel could not deny that she was lonely. The break-up had been… hard. It was still hard. And Wyll was offering kindness where she currently had none.
Lae’zel spotted the VIP area quite easily, a large neon sign that said ‘Hell’s Angels’ hanging on the wall. That was where Wyll had told her to go. The area was raised above the rest of the club, and as Lae’zel made her way up the few steps that separated it from swaths of people, she felt anxiety dropping in her gut. She’d not seen Wyll in a year. She’d not socialised in six months. She needed to do this.
She hated to do this.
A large and burly bouncer stopped her at the top. “Name?”
“Lae’zel. A friend of Wyll’s.”
She could see him. He was sat lazily spread out on a large ostentatious corner sofa, arms spread across the back, a martini in his hand. He looked as he always did, style and suave emanating from him so naturally it felt like a birthright. He was laughing with the two people she did not recognise.
“In you go.”
And when Lae’zel took that first step across the threshold, Wyll noticed her immediately.
“Lae’zel!” he exclaimed, putting his drink on the side. He came over to her and pulled her in for a big hug which she indulged with only some contempt. If she was honest, it was… nice to be touched. “It’s been forever! It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise, Wyll. You’re looking well.”
“Ah, well,” he brushed it off with a cheeky smile. “The club is doing great and so am I. Welcome to Hell’s Bells, by the way – how do you like it?”
Lae’zel stared down at the people dancing below her, the swirling colours of the lights. “It is awful.” She said and looked back at him. “But I am glad that you are happy.”
“I am. And how are you?”
“I am the same.”
The same. She was the same. She’d been in a depressive spiral for six months. She’d eaten peanut butter right out of the jar, and timed how fast she could eat the whole thing (twelve seconds, with one hand cupped like a ladle). She was the same. She was deathly lonely.
Wyll’s kind face did not pity her. For that, Lae’zel was grateful.
“Well, I’m going to cheer you up, mate. Come and meet my friends!”
Reluctance stirred in her chest and stiffened her limbs, but she pushed through. She let Wyll take her hand and guide her over. She could do this for him. And maybe—though Lae’zel didn’t for a moment believe it—maybe it would work to cheer her up. It was at least worth the attempt.
“Astarion, Karlach. This is my friend Lae’zel. We’ve known each other since university. So be nice.”
Lae’zel felt immediately underdressed. The woman, this Karlach, wore a fitted red leather jacket, black baggy pants and a white vest top that showed off tight muscles, golden jewellery adorning wrists and fingers and neck alike. She smiled warmly at Lae’zel.
On the other side of the sofa sat Astarion in a smart white shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and leather trousers. His hair, Lae’zel thought, was simply stunning. Delicate curls bounced on his head and Lae’zel knew he must take more time perfecting his hair than she spent getting ready in the morning. In fairness to her, these days “getting ready” meant rolling off her bed, smelling which of her clothes on the floor were clean, and ripping a bong.
“Lae’zel,” Astarion tested the name on his tongue, “Lae’zel. I’m afraid Wyll’s not mentioned you before. You must be dreadfully boring.”
Karlach reached across and smacked him on the arm with a tut. “Don’t mind him. His boy toy blanked him so he’s in a foul mood. It’s always nice to meet a new face. I’m Karlach, obviously, and this sour puss is Astarion.”
“A pleasure,” Lae’zel said. She took a seat next to Wyll.
“What do you want to drink? Wait—“ Wyll clicked his finger at her. “I bet I know. Scotch and soda?”
“The same as it’s been for years, Wyll, yes.”
“Just let me have this, Lae’zel. It took me three years just to learn your last name. I’ll take my victories where I can.”
He gestured his waiter over and ordered a round. Lae’zel did not know what to do with herself, with Wyll and Karlach on one side of her and Astarion on the other. They all looked so comfortable. They all knew each other. Lae’zel was not comfortable. Lae’zel did not know them.
The white square table in front of them was littered with drugs. She didn’t mind that but it wasn’t what she expected from Wyll and she wondered, briefly, how good of an influence these friends were. Not that she could talk.
She turned towards him quizzically. “Drugs, Wyll?”
“Oh, no—not mine.” Wyll shrugged his shoulders. His smile never left his face. Lae’zel was vehemently jealous of him. “You know my dad would kill me. You remember our first year when we got high in the bathroom of that dingy pub—ah, what was it?“
“The Golden Goose.”
“The Golden Goose! And the owner stormed in just as I was doing a line.” A laugh. “Oh man, my dad was not happy. You know I try to steer clear of them now. Don’t want to upset the old man.”
A tut from Astarion. Lae’zel decided she did not like him. “You’re a grown-ass man, Wyll, your daddy doesn’t control you.”
“My ‘daddy’ is a man I very much respect, Astarion. A good man. Stop being such a grouch. Gale will text you back eventually.”
“But when, Wyll, when? He’s a dusty librarian who has more books than friends, and he can’t find the time to text me back?”
“Oh, you’re not still banging on about Gale are you?” It was a newcomer who spoke. She threw herself onto the sofa without care, taking Astarion’s drink for herself. Lae’zel’s first thought was that she was rude; her second was that she was beautiful.
“He’s a librarian. Honestly, how many times do I have to say it? He should know how lucky he is that I’m even entertaining him—”
“Are you sure you’re entertaining him? Because you’re boring the shit out of me.”
Lae’zel scoffed a laugh that was silenced immediately when green eyes met hers. The woman looked at her cooly, leaning forward in her seat, elbows meeting knees that were adorned in fishnet tights. Her hair was jet black with a velvet sheen and it framed her sharp and defined features delicately but severely. She was a discordance of gentleness and savagery. Lae’zel felt so suddenly like prey that she could not look away, scared that if she did the woman would pounce.
Lae’zel was more surprised that she wanted her to.
“And who’s this, Wyll? Not another girlfriend, is it? Your last one was so, oh I don’t know, quaint.”
“She wasn’t that—“
“She fucking barked at me, Wyll. Like a dog. Psychotic behaviour.”
Wyll laughed. “Yeah, she did that in the bedroom, too.” He paused for a sip of his drink and, with a hum, slapped a hand good-naturedly on Lae’zel’s shoulder, shaking her gently. “This is my good friend Lae’zel. She’s a real killer, I promise.” Lae’zel scoffed and for a moment the raven-haired woman seemed taken with her, eyes gliding down her body. Lae’zel wanted to shuffle in her seat under the intensity of her gaze, but she forced herself still. “Lae’zel, this is Shadowheart. She’s a DJ. Plays at my club most nights. She’s really good – that set you just heard was hers.”
“I’m afraid I know little about music. But it was enjoyable, as club music goes.”
Karlach snorted. “Don’t piss her off, Lae’zel. Might be the last thing you do.” The waiter returned with drinks and she handed Lae’zel her scotch and soda. “She’s got a small local following. You’ve not heard of her?”
“No,” Lae’zel replied. “I am not from the area anymore. I am simply visiting Wyll.”
“Oh, I do know you!” Shadowheart smirked, lazily waving a finger at her. “You’re that heartbroken little thing Wyll mentioned. The one with no friends?”
Wyll blushed, his gossiping nature exposed. He was ready to defend her, but Lae’zel simply shrugged. “That would be me, yes.”
Shadowheart looked delighted, resting her sharp jaw on slender fingers. “Oh, I like a girl without shame.”
Lae’zel had plenty of shame. She felt ashamed simply being here. She felt ashamed that she’d lost her girlfriend and her job within six months. She felt ashamed that, as she watched Shadowheart take an elegant sip of her drink, lips sealing around the rim, Lae’zel wanted only to be the glass.
“Shame is for those with something to lose. I have nothing left.”
“Ha! Life of the fucking party this one, Wyll. You can bring her again.”
Shadowheart cut a line of coke with her debit card. Next to her, Astarion shot up in his seat, gripping his phone tightly.
“He’s texted back! He wants me to go round—should I? Doesn’t it just look desperate?”
Shadowheart quickly snorted the line and sniffed, wiping her nose. “You are desperate.”
“You’re right. I’m going.”
As he moved to leave, Lae’zel took a long sip of her drink and watched them all. They were an interesting group of friends—a bit dysfunctional, but who was Lae’zel to talk? Wyll was, after all, the only friend she’d ever had. Or at least, ever kept. She’d always been a bit of a loner, always too jagged around the edges. It had never ceased to bother Tav; they’d fought about it frequently and it featured prominently in their final fight. She always said Lae’zel was too abrupt with her friends, that she didn’t try hard enough to get to know them, and that it was weird she had no friends of her own.
Lae’zel always thought she was content with it. She liked being a loner. She realised too late that the only reason she was not lonely — the only reason she was content — was because she had Tav and, before that, Wyll. When both were gone and she was left alone in a cold and unfeeling city, she realised that she was not immune to the sting of her humanity. She realised now that, maybe she didn’t need much, but she needed something. She needed someone.
“Do you want some?” Shadowheart’s dark gaze was on her again. “You look like you need a pick-me-up.”
Before Lae’zel could contemplate replying, Astarion, jacket slung over his shoulder, interrupted with a sing-song: “I do!” He bent down and snorted the line with reckless abandon and, as he quickly jolted back upright, he gave a high pitch whoop with a quick shake of his head.
“And now, darlings, I’m off to get laid.”
“Don’t come back,” Shadowheart said, “You’ll bring back the stink of old books and a failed marriage.”
“At least I’m capable of emotional intimacy and I'm actually having sex.”
Karlach chuckled and offered Astarion a fist bump which he accepted with only some reluctance, as if he thought the action below him. “He’s got you there, babe. Who was the last one? That guy that kept talking about crypto?”
Shadowheart scoffed. “I wasn’t seeing him for his charm, Karlach. His mouth was far more talented at other things.”
“Maybe so,” Wyll said, “but he was unbearable. ‘Dude, invest in dogecoin, dude, look at my gains.” Wyll sipped his drink and looked at Shadowheart dryly. “He also stole your PlayStation.”
“Oh shit I forgot about that!” Karlach gave an uproarious laugh. “Fuck, Shadowheart, you don’t half know how to pick ‘em.”
Shadowheart said nothing, arranging another line of powder.
“I’ve got to go.” When Astarion offered Shadowheart a flamboyant kiss on her forehead she pouted and pushed him away, flipping him the finger. Astarion laughed, unbothered, and gave Wyll and Karlach a hug as he left. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
Lae’zel decided she didn’t dislike him, not really. But she had no clue what to make of him. She had no clue what to make of any of them and, as she sat on the sofa untouched, she realised that she wouldn’t mind getting to know them. It was strange. For once, she just wanted to seize the moment.
“I’ll have some,” she said to Shadowheart, and scooted down the couch to join her. She hadn’t done anything harder than weed in… well, a few years. Way before Tav. Tav didn’t even like her smoking weed.
What did Tav like about her, in the end? What did Lae’zel like about herself?
“Wait, wait, wait,” Karlach said, holding up a hand. “I’ve got mandy if you want it.”
Lae’zel shrugged, her chest suddenly a heavy and bitter thing. She wanted anything that would force some type of happiness into the hole in her heart. “Just give me something and I’ll do it. I don’t give a fuck.”
Shadowheart handed her a fiver, curled at its ends from use, and Lae’zel rolled it up. “Just don’t blow it everywhere.”
Lae’zel looked at her plainly. “Is that what you said to your boyfriend?” she retorted and snorted the line in front of her. As she pulled away she felt the burn in her nostrils and the back of her throat, an acidic chemical taste like jet fuel. She blinked her watery eyes away—it had been a while—and looked back to Shadowheart.
Shadowheart met her eyes with a tilt of her head, her finger snaking down her jawline. She looked amused, Lae’zel thought, the slightest hint of pink tongue pinched between her teeth. Against the gloom of the club, she was simply striking, multicoloured lights flashing behind her like a kaleidoscope, her dark figure stark against them.
“Cute,” she said, propping a cigarette in her mouth and smirking at her, eyes lidded. “Maybe you do have more to offer than a pretty face.”
Lae’zel felt her pulse quickening under her stare, whether from the drug or the girl she did not know, but she did not care. She felt all at once alive. She pulled her trusted zippo lighter out of her pocket and flicked it open, sparking the flame.
“At the very least, I’ve got a light.”
Shadowheart hummed, leaning forward to light the cigarette between her plump lips.
Wyll turned his attention away from Karlach, who he was chatting to happily. Lae’zel did not miss the hand he pulled from her thigh. She wondered if Shadowheart or Astarion knew. “Hey — no! Shadowheart! You know the rules. You can’t smoke in my club.”
Lae’zel flicked the lighter closed. “Sorry, Wyll. I didn’t know.”
“Which is why you’re not the one I’m telling off, Lae’zel.” He turned his attention again to Shadowheart. ”You want a cigarette, go outside or to the roof.”
Shadowheart cocked an eyebrow at Lae’zel, who could only watch it rise, studying the sharp curve of it. She was stimulating, with a smoothness of movement that lent itself too fluidly to seduction. “Do you?” Shadowheart asked, leaning closer. “Want a cigarette, I mean?”
“I—“ A dry swallow. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Lae’zel stood as Shadowheart did and glanced at Wyll. He looked at her cheekily, batting his fingers at her in a coy wave, and winked. Lae’zel blushed and quickly looked away. Did Wyll intend for her and Shadowheart to ‘hit it off’? She did seem to be the only one that knew of her in advance.
“We’re going to the roof,” Shadowheart said, grabbing a bottle of vodka off the table. “I don’t want to deal with any of the assholes outside.”
Lae’zel was happy to hear it. She followed Shadowheart back through the club, the scent of sweat and the sickly sweetness of spilt alcohol heavy in the air, and led her behind the bar where she gave a quick head nod to the staff. Lae’zel followed her to the back, an area for staff only, and up dreary and damp stairs. When they hit the top and Shadowheart opened the door, the cool night air met her skin immediately and Lae’zel sighed. It was nice to be free of the suffocating heat.
Shadowheart pinched her cigarette back between her lips. “Help a girl out,” she said, voice muffled by the cigarette.
Lae’zel pulled her lighter from her cargo pants and lit the flame again, guiding it just under the cigarette. She watched Shadowheart’s eyes slip closed as she took a breath in, and out, smoke flowing from her mouth and nostrils. She was simply gorgeous, and Lae’zel pushed aside the guilt she felt even thinking about it. Tav had broken up with her. She deserved to have some fun.
But still she had to look away from Shadowheart, not quite ready to face what came next. Eyes gazed over the edge of the roof, admiring the cityscape. The music of the club was a distant thumping where it had once been an uproarious banging, and the city hung silent in comparison. The cold licked at her skin, crisp and fresh, but all she could think was that the city looked surprisingly beautiful from here. Buildings loomed in the moonlight, the hazy glow of nightlife speckling the horizon like fireflies.
She met Shadowheart's piercing gaze again, relaxation moulding into anticipation. With a delicate step forward, Shadowheart plucked the cigarette from her mouth and turned it in her fingers fluidly, perching the end between index and middle, and brought it to Lae’zel’s lips. Lae’zel hesitated, nervousness screaming in her mind, her skin flushed with the attraction she felt, and let her head lull forward. She took the cigarette between her lips, the pads of Shadowheart’s fingers pressed against them, and took a drag. Shadowheart watched her intimately, a teasing thumb just tracing the underside of Lae’zel’s jaw, lips parted just so, and pulled away. The cigarette almost flopped from Lae’zel’s mouth, feeling the tingling warmth where Shadowheart’s fingers had been.
Lae'zel grabbed the cigarette now resting between her lips and took another drag. “So you're a DJ?” she said, watching Shadowheart pull another cigarette from her pack. Lae’zel handed her the lighter. “I assume Shadowheart is a stage name.”
“No shit,” Shadowheart said with a scoff. The flame from the lighter illuminated her creamy skin, shadows dancing across her face.
Lae’zel waited for her to elaborate but she said no more.
“…So, your real name is…?”
“Not important.” Shadowheart looked her up and down, taking a long drag of her cigarette. “Let’s see if you earn the right to know it.”
Lae’zel said nothing, letting the comment sit with her for a moment. It was a strange thing to say, Lae’zel knew that, but it only made her more intrigued. That was Shadowheart’s intent, Lae’zel was sure. But she could play that game too. She moved from Shadowheart, sitting at the roof’s edge, and let her legs dangle off freely. She looked down. It wasn’t that high, not really, but Lae’zel thought it would be just enough to kill her if she fell. She could still make out the vague voices of those below. She had another drag of her cigarette. The drop was almost hypnotic, the longer she stared the higher the fall, and she looked away before it enticed her too completely.
“This city is a shithole,” Shadowheart said as she sat down beside Lae’zel, carefully placing the bottle of vodka next to her.
“Most cities are.” Lae’zel puffed on her cigarette, letting the smoke catch in the wind and blow away. She thought of home. Neverwinter. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Nowhere did. When she was here, in Baldur’s Gate, she hated it. When she moved to Neverwinter, she liked it for a moment, and then she hated it again. Lae’zel often thought that she was just not someone designed to be happy. “Everywhere is a shithole.”
Another drag.
Shadowheart cracked open the bottle of vodka and took a sip. She passed it to Lae’zel.
“So, tell me about this tragic heartbreak.”
Lae’zel scoffed, shooting a glance at Shadowheart. “You didn’t strike me as someone quite so nosey.”
A shrug. “I’m not. Most people are fucking boring. Maybe you’re boring too. But you’ve caught my attention enough that I’d like to find out.”
Lae’zel took a long sip of vodka, coughing slightly at the burn as she pulled it away. “I was with her for five years. I left Baldur’s Gate for her. She made me feel like I could be more than I was. She left me because I couldn’t be.”
Shadowheart took a sip of vodka followed by a drag of her cigarette, which she promptly flicked off the roof. “Yeah, well, people are cunts. They’ll leave the second they realise they’ve got all they can from you.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“I am.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
Lae’zel nodded. She respected that. She wasn’t about to pour her heart out either. That wasn’t why she’d come here. She’d come to forget, to find one moment of numbness amongst her pain. She stubbed out her cigarette and looked back to Shadowheart, finding her already watching her. Her expression was indecipherable, dangerous beauty cloaked under black locks.
Lae’zel took the bottle from Shadowheart and had another long sip.
“This vodka is shit by the way.”
“It’s Grey Goose. It’s not shit. Maybe you just don’t like vodka.”
“An accurate assessment.”
Shadowheart said nothing, reaching into her shoulder bag and pulling out a joint. She raised it in question to Lae’zel, eyebrow cocked. Lae’zel chucked her the lighter.
“How many drugs do you have on your person, exactly?”
Shadowheart lit the end of the joint and let it burn, blowing slightly before bringing it to soft lips. She took one long drag in and tilted her head to the sky. “Not enough,” she said, smoke in her lungs, and exhaled. Her skin was soft against the moonlight, her braid swaying in the breeze. She passed the joint to Lae’zel.
“Are you trying to intoxicate me?” Lae’zel asked, half-joking and half-hoping, and took a puff.
Shadowheart’s smile was wicked as she stared up at the sky, hands pressed against the cool floor behind her. “I don’t think I need to.”
Lae’zel had another sip of vodka. Her blood was thrumming through her veins from the coke as she felt the euphoria of the drug suddenly claim her. “That remains to be seen.”
“Oh?” Shadowheart looked at her now, amused. She leaned towards her, taking the joint from Lae’zel’s mouth, and brought her lips close. She flicked her dark and hungry eyes across Lae’zel’s face, watching the way she squirmed. Her head tilted up ever so slightly, exposing her slender neck and flexing her sharp jaw as lips drew so close to kissing Lae’zel that she thought her heart, already hammering in her chest, would stop completely. “I don’t think it does.”
Lae’zel had nothing left to lose. Finger and thumb grabbed Shadowheart’s delicate chin. “I will not deny that I find myself entranced by you,” she said, holding Shadowheart’s gaze. She could feel the heat of Shadowheart’s body against her own. Only a slither of distance lay between them, one that both tempted her to be still and savour it, and taunted her to close it.
But then Shadowheart took another long drag on the joint and blew the smoke gently into Lae’zel’s face. She felt it breeze across her cheek and shivered ever so lightly. “I know,” Shadowheart said and pulled away.
All Lae’zel wanted was to bring her close again, hands twitching at her sides, but she resisted. She took another pull of the joint when it was offered to her, and then another. It fuzzed her mind, eyes hotly clouding over. She saw the trails of her movement as she passed it back to Shadowheart. Finally, she felt numb. Finally, she felt alive.
“How do you know Wyll?” she asked.
“Met him at a gig. He listened to my set and approached me so brazenly afterwards. I thought he was hitting on me so I told him to get lost, but then he told me he was opening a new club and wanted me to play for him.” Shadowheart looked caught in thought, the smallest ghost of a smile pulling at her lips. “That was about… two years ago, now.”
“That is Wyll. An outgoing man. To the point of annoyance, sometimes.”
Shadowheart gave a single note of laughter. “Fucking tell me about it.”
And then the silence encased them. Lae’zel felt away from the world, locked in a cage of her own creation. For the first time, she delighted in it. She felt safe. She barely felt the cold anymore, even as the goosebumps rose on her skin. The sky above her was a blanket of black, faded stars trying desperately to pierce through the light pollution of the city. Pensive, she clumsily pried out her wallet and pulled out the picture she kept of Tav. She stared down at it, thumb running over its faded edges.
And then she scoffed. She ripped it up in her hands and threw it off the side of the building. She watched the pieces fall like snowflakes before they were whisked away by the violent wind.
“Let’s head back.” Lae’zel said. “I don’t want Wyll to think I left him.”
Shadowheart sighed. If she was watching Lae’zel, she did not make it known. “Fine,” she said but then suddenly: “What’s your deal, anyway?”
“My deal?” Lae’zel asked as she stood, wiping off her trousers.
“Yeah.” Shadowheart puffed smoke into the sky. Lae'zel watched it flurry and dissipate. “You know, this whole ‘I'm a strong butch woman with a soft heart.’ Bit played out, isn't it?”
“You seem to like it.”
Shadowheart laughed and stood. “What I like, Lae'zel, is the desperation positively dripping off you. As much as you try, I don’t think you don't care about anything anymore.” Shadowheart stepped closer, hand just gripping at Lae'zel’s tank top. “I know how that feels.”
Lae'zel could only stare at her, all of her attention caught in a single breath as she felt the stroke of fingers against her stomach. She gripped her fear in her hand and she crushed it, letting bravado take its place. “Then you should know I don't care to play coy. Speak plainly or not at all.”
Shadowheart smiled up at her, taking one last drag of the joint before she discarded it on the floor. Smoked flowed from her lips as she spoke. “Not at all,” she said—and kissed her.
The last person Lae’zel had kissed was Tav. This kiss was nothing like hers. Shadowheart was ferocious, her tongue gentle but firm as she immediately swiped across Lae’zel’s lips, pushing into her mouth. Lae'zel's jaw slackened to let her tongue press against hers and all at once she felt herself let go, hands snaking around Shadowheart’s waist and pulling her close.
She almost couldn’t believe she was here, at this club, with a woman whose touch scorched her so deeply it scarred. Shadowheart bunched her tank top up in her fist, her other hand locking in Lae’zel’s hair with the slightest bite of nails. A stab of arousal twisted in Lae’zel’s guts, a sensation amplified by the weed, and she allowed herself to be carried away by the feeling. She slid her hand down from the small of Shadowheart’s back to her thigh, lifting it up and against her.
Shadowheart pulled her lips away, hand releasing her hair and drifting down to thumb Lae’zel’s bottom lip. “My place?” she asked.
For once, Lae’zel finally felt as if something was going right.
“Yes.”
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
“You really aren’t coming?”
Lae’zel sighed, her phone wedged between her shoulder and ear as she packed a bong. “No, Wyll.”
“It’s my birthday, Lae’zel! Come on, you’re my oldest friend. I’ll even pay for your flight.”
“It’s tomorrow,” Lae’zel said. She slotted her two-piece into place on the stem and brought the bong to her mouth, lighter in her spare hand. “It’s short notice. I won’t make it in time.”
Wyll was patient as he spoke. His words held no malice or annoyance, only fact, but they hurt all the same. “It’s not like you have a job to get to. Come on—my treat! I want you there. My birthday is never the same without you.”
Lae’zel flicked the spark wheel of the crappy lighter she’d bought, growing frustrated when the damn thing wouldn’t light. She resented having left her lighter in Shadowheart’s care, almost two months ago. Smoking bongs just wasn’t the same without her old faithful. She sighed. “I want to, Wyll, yet I—“
“Shadowheart was asking if you were coming, you know.”
Lae’zel said nothing despite the sudden anxiety that squeezed her heart. She sealed the bong around her lips, finally lighting her lighter, and sucked in the smoke. “If you think you can bribe me with that“—she stumbled for words—”that hot goth…”
“No, I don’t think that.” Wyll’s tone was light. “But if you don’t come I’ll tell her you said that.”
Lae’zel groaned. “Tell her what you like,” she said, but Wyll’s silence made her feel guilty anyway. “Have it your way. I’ll get the next flight out. And you will pay.”
“Yes!” He sounded so genuinely pleased. His friendliness was a quality Lae’zel had always admired but never been able to grasp. “It’s going to be great, Lae’zel, I promise.”
She hung up the phone. She could practically see Wyll’s smug face and ignored the annoying tug of affection she felt. She missed him; she missed having someone at her side. Being back in Neverwinter brought only emptiness. Each day was spent sitting in an empty house, most of the furniture taken by Tav. She had a bed, a sofa, a laptop, a lamp. She woke to grey skies steeped in a hollow silence and had grown so used to the void of sound, to its numbness, that it felt her default. It was only when she had a bong that the silence was ripped through in an instant, and she remembered for one forlorn minute how desperately lonely she was. Then she had another bong — and another — until her sight and mind clouded over, foggy enough that she could not hear the silence, only the humdrum and meaningless thoughts in her mind. Sometimes, in her lowest and therefore highest moments, she wondered what it was like to be a bee—to belong to a colony, to be a little part of something greater, to have a single purpose in a life of purposelessness.
More and more Lae’zel had been considering moving back to Baldur’s Gate. It wasn’t just for Wyll, though she couldn’t deny he was a motivator—there was simply nothing left for her here. Was there anything left for her anywhere? She had no family, she had no friends, she had no girlfriend, she had no job. She had nothing. She was nothing.
But that night in the club… for one beautiful moment she was something. She was an object of desire. Numbness turned from pain to tranquillity. She often found herself thinking about that night. It was difficult for her to admit that she had enjoyed being around people and it felt odd to meet a group of people she didn’t immediately disdain. The idea of seeing them again brimmed her with excitement, anxiety, longing. Longing to see Wyll and longing for the nihilistic comfort of touch that she had found with Shadowheart.
Lae’zel was no stranger to one-night stands but the operative idea was that it was one night—she never saw her conquests again; sometimes she even used a fake name. She was breaking that rule and she did not know how she’d react seeing Shadowheart again. But still, she found herself packing more frantically than she would admit to, examining her clothes and their fit more cunningly than she meant to. And once she was packed she was on the next flight over—just in time for Wyll’s party.
She’d checked into the shittiest and closest hotel she could find. By the time she was showered—showered—and dressed, she was already late. This time, when she walked down the dank alley, there was a large queue outside the door. She passed it, thinking nothing of the jealous looks she received from those in the queue, nor their angry jeers. She spoke her name to the bouncer and he let her in without a thought. As she entered she shot a quick text to Wyll.
Lae'zel: I’m here.
Wyll:Gr8. Come VIP when ready. 😎
Lae'zel: No emojis.
Wyll: U love it 😘
Her eyes scanned the scene. It wasn’t packed as tightly as the last time she was here; this time she could actually make out the flashing multicoloured dance floor. People danced like fools, she thought, but she wasn’t one to talk. She couldn’t dance for shit. The air hung heavy with smoke, strobe lights accentuating the way it twisted in the air. Lae’zel, despite finding smoke machines and other cheap tricks distasteful, found herself transfixed watching the way it flowed through the air, parting delicately. It was then that she saw the DJ booth; it was then that she saw her…
Shadowheart.
Lae’zel could only just make her out through the mist, her figure hidden under layers of delicate smoke that grew opaque whenever the lights flashed. Lae’zel could just make out her standing there, headphones on, dancing to the beat. She was a flurry of passion and beauty malignant.
It was the only time Lae’zel cared to pay attention to the music, morbid curiosity taking hold. As it pounded in her ears, she heard the deep base mingling with — was it Moonlight Sonata? She baulked at the idea. But as she looked over the crowd she could not deny it. It was Moonlight Sonata. And it was remixed with what she thought—but could not say for sure—was EDM.
Lae’zel had intended to go to Wyll, but the excitement that filled her upon seeing Shadowheart only made her feel unprepared, morose. Her limbs were suddenly heavy with disappointment, with loathing for herself, and she sighed. She instead made her way over to the bar. She pushed through the crowds of people, some of them sticky with sweat, and squeezed through to the front of the crowd. She held her debit card between two fingers and raised it to grab the bartender's attention.
“Two shots of whiskey,” she yelled over the loud music. The bartender offered a thumbs up and grabbed two shot glasses, placing them in front of her. She tapped her card to pay and watched impatiently as the golden liquor poured into the glasses. She downed one and grabbed the other in her hand, turning around to examine the crowd again, elbow on the bar. She didn’t want to look at Shadowheart, not at all, but she still could not help herself. She couldn’t deny the stupid desire in her gut and texted Wyll to confirm her suspicions.
Lae'zel: This is Shadowheart DJ’ing?
It was then that Lae’zel saw the disco ball chandelier above the dancefloor—a ridiculously stupid and audacious item, it was exactly what Lae’zel had come to expect of Wyll. It worked for him, it worked for his club. Elegance and tackiness meeting in perfect harmony. It was a cultivated vibe. Just like the music.
Wyll: Yh. Combines classical with EDM, hip hop, rnb, metal. 🤘🎵🎧 It's her niche. She played it last time u were here. 🎸
Lae’zel hadn’t noticed. Then again, the club had overwhelmed her the first time, anxiety in her gut like she’d swallowed a brick. Now her anxiety felt more like she’d swallowed a stone.
Lae'zel: No emojis. Be there soon.
She downed her second shot and slammed it onto the bar, steeling herself. She tried not to spare another look at Shadowheart but she was entranced by the way her braid swayed over her shoulder as she moved, her concentration entirely taken by her turntables. Lae’zel wanted to go over, and she hated it. She hated that she wanted to go over. She pulled herself away. She made her way to Wyll. This time the bouncer let her through without stopping her first.
“There she is!” It was Karlach who spoke first, smiling as she stood and pulled her in for a hug. It was an overly familiar action, one Lae’zel was not sure how to take. But she returned it regardless, locking eyes with Wyll over her broad shoulder.
As they parted, Lae’zel offered an awkward wave to Wyll. “Happy birthday.”
“Don’t give me that!” Wyll stood and pulled her in for a hug of his own. “It’s great that you’re here, Lae’zel!”
It didn’t feel great. It felt lonely. Wyll was being celebrated by people who loved him, surrounded by the physical evidence of his success. Lae’zel’s greatest success was showering to come here. “It is nice to see you,” Lae’zel said instead, because it was, even if it upset her.
“Was your flight alright?” Wyll grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the sofa with him, next to Karlach.
“Of course. It is easy to enjoy a flight when you are not paying for it.”
“I hate flying.” Karlach said as Wyll passed Lae’zel a drink which she took with thanks. “There’s never enough legroom. I’m a big girl, need plenty of space!”
Lae’zel had a long sip of her drink. She felt only half-present in the conversation. She tried to listen, tried to ignore the pull she felt to look down to the dancefloor, down to the DJ booth where Shadowheart stood mixing music, flowing like water.
“I hate the people,” Lae’zel said, focusing instead on Karlach’s smiling face.
Wyll laughed. “You’ve always hated people. Remember in university, when that really nerdy guy spent months working up the courage to ask you out? He’d stare at you every day. And when he finally did—what was it you said?”
Lae’zel pursed her lips. “That he was plain and unformidable.”
Karlach laughed too. Lae’zel did not understand what was funny. “Oh my God, that’s harsh, babe.”
“It was the truth.”
“You know,” Wyll began and Lae’zel could see the cheeky smile he tried to keep from his face. “Shadowheart is just as brutal when she rejects people.”
Lae’zel simply shrugged, not willing to entertain whatever Wyll was getting at, and had another sip of her drink. She could feel her eyes slowly peeling away again to the DJ booth and forced them back onto Wyll. She would not entertain her childish desire to see Shadowheart. It was pathetic. She was pathetic. And Wyll was not a matchmaker. Moreover, Lae’zel did not need matchmaking. She was content to be alone; content with the pain in her chest, with the fog in her mind, with the all too fucking consuming depression that was as much a part of her as her still beating heart. It was who she was. It was who she would always be. It was clear relationships were not for her. Not that she thought she and Shadowheart would—it's not like she’d thought about—of course not. Meaningless sex was all she wanted. It soured the ache in her chest even further, and that’s what she was comfortable with. Happiness, joy—they were too foreign a concept.
“Oh, actually…“ Lae’zel knew that tone. Wyll was plotting. “Now that I mention her, very totally naturally in this conversation as I have“—she did not miss Karlach’s snigger at his words—“I think the DJ is due a drink. Could you take one to her?”
Lae’zel looked at him coolly, expressionless. It was not amusing to have him fiddling in her life. She did not want it. She loved him for it. “No. Use one of your staff. I am not a servant.”
“But they're all busy. Please Lae’zel? For me? I’m contractually obligated to keep her hydrated.”
His cheeky puppy dog smile was too much for her. She tried to stand strong against it, but he had always been the light to her darkness. The extrovert to her introvert.
She could only sigh. “What does she like to drink?”
Wyll tried to remain casual but Lae’zel could see his delight. He was an open book. It was something she’d always liked about him as, try though she did, it was hard for her to conceal her emotions, too.
“Surprise her!”
“No.”
“Yees!”
She tutted and downed her drink before standing. “Why did I come here?” she asked, mostly to herself.
“Because you love me, Lae’zel! Admit it!”
“No.”
She left without another word and made her way back to the bar, back through the horde of people she did not want touching her. Trepidation prickled at her skin and she could only scowl, feeling anxiety rising in her chest. She hated it. She did not want another person to be able to cause such feelings in her.
But still, she found herself considering for too long what Shadowheart would want to drink. She was sure she liked vodka, but she did not know with what. She thought maybe a whiskey, Lae’zel’s drink of choice, but she realised many did not like it.
She settled on two long island ice teas. It was a plentiful mix of alcohol and it got you drunk pretty fast. She thought Shadowheart would appreciate that. Lae’zel did not know how long Shadowheart had been up there, so she also got a water. She picked all three up in her hands triangled together, and made her way over. She ignored the screaming in her mind that called her a stupid cunt and kept going.
It was difficult, balancing three drinks whilst side-stepping drunken idiots, but Lae’zel was an expert from her university days. Another bouncer stood guarding the booth. She raised her glasses.
“I know her,” she said. “Got a drink for her.”
The bouncer uncrossed his arms and half-turned, tapping Shadowheart on the shoulder. Shadowheart met her gaze for only a moment, too focused on her table, and gestured her forward with a flick of her fingers. Lae’zel felt like an idiot, standing stiffly and awkwardly with drinks in her hand, face neutral. She thought she must look desperate and she hated it. But she approached when permitted, the pull of her fingers proving too much to resist.
Lae’zel put the drinks on the side, carefully avoiding the very expensive-looking equipment.
“I got you a long island.”
“What?”
“A long island.”
“What?!”
“A. Long. Island.”
Shadowheart shrugged at her, pointing a finger at the large headphones covering her ears. She was striking, Lae’zel thought not for the first time. Now she was up close, she was flooded with memories of their night together—the softness of her skin, the ecstasy of her touch, the smell of her musk. It was too much.
That night, Lae’zel had left before Shadowheart woke the next day. She’d clothed herself carefully, regret and anxiety eating at her guts, her head hammering in her skull, and left. She was too terrified of what it would mean to wake up next to someone and have a conversation with them. Not when the last person she’d done it with was Tav. She wanted to hold onto that.
But as Lae’zel looked at Shadowheart, her mind fell blank. She wondered what it would have been like to wake up with her. She did not wonder at all, too taken by the black lipstick Shadowheart wore—so taken by it that, for a moment, it was all she could do to follow the black line of her lips, eyes stuck plainly on her cupid’s bow. She was a fallen angel, so dark and reverent and graceful as she danced to the beat of her own song that Lae’zel forgot herself, the stiffness of her movements matching the slowness of her mind.
Dumbly, she passed Shadowheart the water. “Fucking forget it,” she said, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do or how to act, “just drink up.”
Shadowheart had a sip and her face soured. “Is this water?”
Lae’zel nodded.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Lae’zel passed her the long island instead. Shadowheart took a long sip and Lae’zel watched her swallow, feeling suddenly parched. Shadowheart shoved it back into Lae’zel’s chest.
“Better,” she yelled, focusing again on her music.
Lae’zel sipped her drink, eyes drawn to dexterous fingers seamlessly sliding from the mixer, turning knobs and moving dials, to the turntables where she spun the records. Her fingers were practised, slow movements steadying into fast and vice versa, and Lae’zel thought it bizarre, how magnetising it all was. She couldn’t look away. Shadowheart didn’t just play the music, she was the music. She was the pulsing base, she was the steady beat and the anticipating break. Shadowheart was the flow of seduction in each song.
Shadowheart tossed her a baggie. It had a few pills in. Lae’zel opened it and pulled one out.
“It’ll chill you out.” Shadowheart yelled, green eyes only just glancing at her. “You look like you’re holding in a shit.”
Lae’zel didn’t want that so she swallowed one immediately with a sip of her drink. She tried to hand the bag back, but Shadowheart shook her head and opened her mouth, sticking out her pink tongue, still preoccupied with her kit. Lae’zel felt the bundle of nerves in her stomach shoot up to her throat but she obliged. She pulled out another pill and placed it gently on Shadowheart’s tongue. She watched her swallow it raw.
She felt her phone buzz in her pocket.
Wyll: 👀 👀
Lae'zel: Fuck off.
Wyll: Ur welcome. 😏😘
“I’ve got one more song left on my set,” Shadowheart yelled. She was still not looking at Lae’zel but she took one headphone off for a moment. “You wanna wait here, or..?”
She did. She didn’t.
“I’ll be with Wyll.”
“Sure.”
Shadowheart turned her attention back to her music so Lae’zel offered an awkward and stiff wave goodbye that she hoped Shadowheart did not see. She made her way back up to the VIP area, thinking of nothing but what a stupid idiot she was. And when she found Wyll and Karlach alike watching her with shit-eating smiles, she could only groan.
“Sooo..?” Karlach asked. “How is she?”
“Busy.”
Wyll’s smile was impenetrable. “Hopefully she’ll be busy with you soon enough, huh?”
Lae’zel scoffed at him and ignored the painful and dull thud of anticipation in her chest. “I understand that you think you are funny. You are not.”
“And you’re not half as tough as you think you are. Under that hard exterior is a little marshmallowy centre, Lae’zel. You’re a loveable teacake.”
Lae’zel did not understand why he loved her so. What did she offer him? Everyone else in her life had left her and yet he remained. Why?
“I think he’s very funny,” Karlach said, sipping her drink. “And a great wingman. Speaking of, did I just watch you fingerfuck Shadowheart’s mouth?”
Lae’zel was not amused. “No.”
“Wyll?”
“Oh, that’s definitely what you saw, Karlach.”
Lae’zel could do nothing but utter a noise of disapproval as she sat down, taking a long sip of her drink. She did not love the taste of long island, but it served its purpose and served it well. She ignored their laughter.
“I should not be surprised that you two would tag team me. I would expect nothing less from lovers.”
Wyll laughed again. “Of course, you’re the only one who noticed,” he said. He draped himself on Karlach’s lap, secrecy and subtlety thrown to the wind. “I think the others are always too high to realise.”
“Is it a problem if they do?”
“Of course not. It’s just that Karlach dated Shadowheart first, a couple of years ago. She'd be insufferable if she knew.”
“Well… dating is a strong term.” Karlach chuckled, the drink in her hands just teetering at her lips. “We fucked like bunnies though.”
“Oh?”
Jealousy. A strange and unwelcome feeling. She did not know Shadowheart, she did not even know her name. The feeling made her sad. It made her angry.
She knew she was the jealous type. She'd always gotten mad whenever someone was a little too friendly with Tav but she'd never let it show—or tried not to, at least. Whenever Tav had called her out on it she always told her that Tav was free to do whatever she wanted but, if she did, she would do it without Lae'zel. She was not ready to be jealous again. She was not ready for life to claim her again.
Wyll was just watching her, his tone humorous. “I think Lae'zel’s jealous, Karlach.”
“I am not—”
Karlach snorted. “Don't even try it, Lae'zel.”
Lae'zel pursed her lips, eyes tightening in displeasure. She said nothing.
Wyll looked at her kindly, his teasing smile replaced with something softer. “I’ll let it lie,” he said. “I’m just glad you got under someone else.”
“As you intended, Wyll.”
“I’m afraid I’ve not the slightest idea of what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“What can I say?” Wyll climbed off Karlach’s lap and leaned up to face Lae’zel, slapping a hand good-naturedly on her knee. “I just knew you two would hit it off.”
Lae’zel said nothing for a moment, letting the pull of temptation guide her eyes back to Shadowheart. For a moment she softened, the pain of her loneliness throbbing through her body. She could only think of Tav. “She does not seem interested now.”
It was Karlach, and not Wyll, who spoke to comfort her. She didn’t want comfort; she didn’t need it. She was Lae’zel, strong and aloof, and she needed no one. (She needed someone.) “Don’t take it personally, babe. She gets very involved with her music. Besides, she asked if you were coming. That’s a fucking miracle. It’s the equivalent of someone changing outfits five times before a date.”
“Who would do such a thing?”
Karlach shrugged. “Me,” she said, and took Wyll’s hand in her own, kissing it softly. “I think I changed about ten times before I went out with Wyll.”
Wyll was blushing, looking at Karlach was a level of affection Lae’zel was not sure she’d ever felt. She thought she must be a robot. “And I had two showers.”
Lae’zel said nothing. They were too in love for her, too adorable for her. It made her sick. It made her chest ache. She hated herself. She’d never put that much effort into a date. She and Tav had gone on a few in the beginning, usually arranged by Tav, but then slowly, over time, they just enjoyed being together in whatever capacity that meant. Usually sex. Lae’zel preferred that, but it was only now that she considered that maybe Tav did not.
Fuck. She was a robot. Robots did not deserve love; they were not capable of it.
Lae’zel didn’t want to think about it. She downed her drink. “So where is Astarion tonight?”
If Wyll thought about her sudden topic change he did not make it known. “On the dancefloor with Gale. Where we will be tonight, Lae’zel, I swear it!”
Another knife in her chest. “Must I?”
Karlach laughed, “Uh, YES! It’s Wyll’s birthday, you can’t not dance on his birthday.”
“I can. Quite easily in fact.”
Karlach rolled her eyes. “What I mean is, you won’t. Because we all want to celebrate our fearless leader and let loose!”
“I can celebrate from here,” Lae’zel said, stiff in her seat. She would not dance. She could not dance. She refused to make a fool of herself. “I have no desire to ‘let loose’ as you say, if it means dancing with those imbeciles down there.“
Wyll tutted, throwing a crumpled-up napkin at her. It hit her face and spilt onto the floor. Lae’zel did not react. “It’s my birthday, Lae’zel. The one day a year you need to indulge me.”
Lae’zel hated that she could not refuse him; he was a specimen of such great kindness that she knew she would never be capable of. She wanted to protect it, to encourage it. “You know I cannot dance.”
“That’s what makes it fun!” he said. “Come ooon.”
“If I must, I need more to drink.”
“Hey, guys.” Shadowheart approached. She sat next to Karlach, away from Lae’zel. Lae’zel felt the tug of disappointment and it only made her angry at herself. She was a stupid bitch. “What did you think of the set?”
Wyll was suddenly alive with passion, “Are you joking, mate? I can’t believe you played Ride of the Valkyries for me. That build-up was amazing and when that beat dropped into the chorus I lost my shit. Thank you.”
Shadowheart actually smiled. It lit up the entire room and Lae’zel hated that it made her heart beat just that little bit faster in her chest. She hated how attracted to her she was. She did not want it. She thought of Tav. Their smiles were so different – Tav smiled much like Karlach did, like an innocent puppy dog. Shadowheart smiled like she hated you. “I mixed it just for you. Happy birthday, asshole.”
“I need a copy!”
“I’ll send it to you.”
“No, no,” Wyll said. “I want a physical disk and I want it signed by you.”
Shadowheart looked away from him, gesturing for a waiter to come over. Lae’zel knew they weren’t busy. Fucking Wyll. “Why do you want that?”
“Because you’re going to be famous one day, Shadowheart. And because you’re my mate and I love your music.”
“Fine,” she said. Lae’zel thought it was strange, how disinterested she was in his passion for her music. She turned to the waiter. “Bring a tray of assorted shots. I want tequila slammers.”
Shots? Lae’zel had not shot anything but whiskey in years. Lae’zel was not sure she could manage them.
“Shooots!” Karlach yelled, toasting her drink. “That’s what I’m talking about. This’ll loosen you up, Lae’zel!”
She wanted to be relaxed, to feel that same numbness she had the first time she’d come to the club. But she did not want to be so drunk that she made a fool of herself. She would never live it down. She was already a fool.
Shadowheart scoffed, finally looking at Lae’zel, and she wanted only to look away. The smirk on her face was infuriating, maddening, and Lae’zel imagined for one moment kissing it from her face. She dismissed the thought immediately. “Oh don’t worry about that, Karlach. Lae’zel had an E downstairs. She just needs to wait for it to kick in and letting loose will be all she’ll want to do.”
Karlach laughed. “That was E? Wow, I can’t wait to see what Lae’zel is like on that high.”
“I imagine I will still be annoyed by your antics.”
A snort. “Maybe. Maybe not. Can I pop one of those, Shadowheart?”
Wordlessly Shadowheart threw the bag to her, leaning back in her seat. Her brow was sweating, Lae’zel noticed, likely from the heat of the lights. She wanted to lick it up. She wondered what she smelt like.
Shadowheart’s eyes met hers and she quickly looked away, chastising herself for being caught staring.
“Shouldn’t be long now.” Shadowheart said. Why was her voice so silky, so intoxicating? It was maddening. “Maybe we’ll even see Lae’zel smile.”
Lae’zel almost felt herself blushing but that was ridiculous. She did not blush. The weight in her chest grew heavier when she realised she was actually having fun and she wanted to leave. She did not deserve these people. She wanted to be at home, smoking so many bongs that she forgot her own name. Alcohol would have to do.
Wyll laughed, shaking his hand in disagreement. “Oh, no. Lae’zel doesn’t smile. Not really. Even when she’s happy she expresses it more with words and actions than…facial expressions.”
She knew Wyll meant no harm but the words hurt all the same. Her only friend thought that of her? She was a terrible friend, a terrible person. She wanted to jump off the side, down onto the dancefloor, just to escape them. “I am capable of smiling, Wyll.”
“Ha!” Shadowheart looked at her, head resting on her chin. “Go on then. Smile.”
She scowled, bristling with discomfort and anger, and said nothing.
Shadowheart’s wicked smile only grew. “That’s what I thought.”
The waiter returned with their drinks. Lae’zel barely waited for him to put the tray down before she had one, face scrunching as the sickly liquid met her tongue. A jagerbomb? Disgusting.
She had another.
“Woah,” Karlach said, grabbing the third Lae’zel had picked up from her hands. “Save some for the rest of us, soldier. And at least have a slammer, we’ll do it together.”
“Fine.”
Karlach handed out the shots, lime and salt. “Ready? And go!”
Lae’zel licked the salt from her hand, downed the shot, and sucked the lime. Her face soured but she could admit it was far better than the jagerbomb. The acidity of the shot was tastier than the sickly sweetness of the jager.
“Another.” Lae’zel said.
Wyll laughed. “Lae’zel’s not fucking around!” he said. “I’ll go grab a bottle instead. Can you come with me, Karlach?”
They shared an almost imperceptible look but Lae’zel was not stupid. They had been plotting all night. “Of course, Wyll.”
“Be good in our absence. Especially you, Shadowheart. Don’t scandalise Lae’zel.”
“Me?” She batted her eyes innocently, crossing one leg over the other. “I would never.”
Wyll scoffed a laugh as they left.
And then she was alone with Shadowheart. Again. She did not want to be alone with Shadowheart, awkwardness tightening her muscles, heart hammering in her chest. She hated feeling like this. It was much better when she was alone, calm, sucked into the fury of her depression. That was safe and comfortable. This was uncertain, unwelcome. She hated feeling unsure.
So she said nothing. She did not know what to make of Shadowheart, of the way she looked her up and down, the way she’d been distant where, last time, she’d been overly forward.
“You’re being weird.” Shadowheart said suddenly.
Lae’zel scoffed, ignoring the urge she felt to move closer to Shadowheart who was so far across the sofa from her she had to yell to be heard. “You do not know me. I am being as I usually am.”
“Nah,” Shadowheart said, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re being weird.”
“I am being normal.”
“If this is your normal, then you’re weird.”
“Perhaps.”
She couldn’t tell but she thought Shadowheart liked that answer, delight dancing in her eyes. She shouldn’t care if Shadowheart liked her. She did.
Shadowheart moved closer, another shot of tequila in her hands. “Your awkwardness is adorable.”
Lae’zel froze, frog in her throat, and blinked at her. “I am not—“
“You are.” Her voice was teasing, so silken it stroked at Lae’zel’s burning skin. “Playing all coy.”
Another scoff. “I am not—“
Shadowheart moved closer still, walking towards her like a panther stalking through the jungle, eyes firmly on her prey. Lae’zel could feel her heart beating in her throat, palms growing sweaty. She was dangerous, Lae’zel thought, dangerous and sexy and infuriating. She was a tornado too powerful for Lae’zel to escape from, magnetism flowing from her so naturally Lae’zel could do nothing but be sucked towards her.
“Oh?” Shadowheart said, eyebrow raised. “So I’m not a ‘hot goth?’” she laughed and Lae’zel did feel herself blushing now, humiliation claiming her like an old friend. Her mouth flopped open to begin a flurry of refusals, of excuses, but Shadowheart pounced on her so suddenly she was speechless. She bent over to meet Lae’zel’s eye line and held out a packet of salt.
“Give me your wrist.”
Lae’zel could do nothing but obey, anxiety and anticipation pounding in her head. She could not believe this was happening again. She desperately wanted it to happen again. She desperately wanted to go home alone. Another tug of self-loathing.
Shadowheart sprinkled the salt on her pulse point and Lae’zel stared at it, tingles on her arm where Shadowheart’s fingers had pressed.
“Open your mouth.”
She did. Shadowheart perched the lime between her lips and looked at her darkly, finger and thumb grabbing at Lae’zel’s chin and tilting it upwards. Lae’zel let herself be led and kept her head firmly where Shadowheart guided it.
She could not look away from Shadowheart’s gaze, her fiery blood thrumming through her veins. She felt so stiff in her seat, incapable of movement. She could only watch Shadowheart grab her wrist, tongue stroking across her skin as she lapped up the salt. Her tongue was warm and wet against her skin, and Lae’zel had to contain the shiver she felt. Shadowheart kept her eyes open as she licked, eyes never leaving Lae’zel’s. She licked it slowly, kissing her pulse point, before downing the shot. Lae’zel did not even have the time to blush as Shadowheart descended on her, lips just touching her own as she sucked the lime in Lae’zel’s mouth.
When she pulled away she wiped the excess lime juice from her mouth with her thumb.
“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Shadowheart's voice was low and teasing.
Lae’zel felt the air tickling the spit on her wrist, she felt the ghost of lips against her own, the taste of lime on her tongue. She wanted to taste Shadowheart instead.
“What is it you want from me?” Lae’zel asked. “I cannot tell. It seems as though you like to play with your food.”
A smile. “And you seem like you liked to be played with.” She moved closer, hand on the back of the sofa behind Lae’zel, nose just brushing her own. She seemed so much taller, so much stronger, so much more than Lae’zel, stood like this. She held all the power in her hands and Lae’zel could only concede it, her mind a flurry of thoughts she did not want. As Shadowheart looked into Lae’zel’s eyes she felt her dejection jumping down to her stomach, swirling instead into anxiety, excitement. The feelings were too similar to tell apart. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I—“
“Looks like maybe we should come back, Wyll.”
Lae’zel jolted in her seat, pulling away from Shadowheart and looking instead to Wyll and Karlach who had a bottle of tequila and supplies for more slammers in hand. Shadowheart did not pull away nearly so quickly, her fingers tracing Lae’zel’s jaw as she smiled devilishly. She tapped her hand against Lae’zel’s flaming cheeks twice in quick succession.
“That’s what I thought,” Shadowheart said and pulled away. She helped Karlach and Wyll with their supplies. “Took you long enough to get back here. I can feel the E kicking in.”
“Which means it’s almost time to dance!”
Lae’zel wasn’t sure she felt her pill kicking in, though she could not deny Shadowheart’s touch felt electric against her skin; she could still feel where she’d touched her. She wanted more.
They did more shots. Karlach and Wyll and Shadowheart laughed so easily together, cool and happy in each other’s company. Then they did more shots, and suddenly Lae’zel found herself laughing too, when Karlach nailed an impression of Wyll returning an overdue book at the library, overly apologetic and embarrassed.
“I don’t like to inconvenience people!” Wyll had laughed.
And then they did more. The lights in the club were suddenly beautiful. The heavy bass suddenly timed to the beat of her own heart. She felt its pull. She felt its pulse. She felt the hairs on her forearm standing on end.
Karlach brought them all to dance and they met up with Astarion, in a black mesh top, and Gale, covered in glitter. It was very pretty, shining on his skin, reflecting in the luminescent light. He looked like a Twilight vampire and the thought didn’t make her scoff, it amazed her. She wanted to look like a Twilight vampire too.
“You look amazing!” she said to Gale, her hands flowing through the air as she danced.
“Thank you!” Gale replied. “It’s nice to meet you!”
“It’s nice to meet everyone!”
Astarion laughed. He danced beautifully, his body a flow of movement against the steady beat. He twirled Gale. “Who the fuck is this and where is Lae’zel?”
“She’s high on ecstasy!” Wyll said, laughing. “I’ve never fucking seen her like this!”
“Wyll!” she said, “My oldest friend, my only friend, give me a hug!”
His body was so warm against her, so hot against hers, his touch a galvanising fire that lit up her insides. The lights of the dancefloor flashed white, blue, red, yellow, orange, purple, green, pink and every fucking colour she could imagine and some she could not and it was all so beautiful and her friends were all so beautiful and she wanted to live in this moment for an eternity. It was all she could do to dance, excitement running through her so fiercely she couldn’t contain it.
“I fucking love ecstasy! I fucking love life!”
She turned to Shadowheart, whose dancing was more graceful than any she had seen in her life. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Each movement was purposeful, elegant, sensual, hands behind her head as she looked up at the lights. She noticed Lae’zel staring and smiled, looping an arm around her neck and pulling her close. The touch felt like liquid fire, a humming in her blood she could not contain and Lae’zel shivered.
“Isn’t this beat incredible?!” Shadowheart yelled. “Fuck, I want to drink it.”
Life was colour, her voice a dark violet that evaporated into the air like starlight. “I want to drink you,” she said. “You’re an incredible dancer!”
Shadowheart laughed and it popped through the air like fireworks. “Have you ever had ecstasy before?”
“No!” Lae’zel threaded her hands through her hair, it felt so silky like it was melting under her touch. “Is it obvious?”
“A little.” Shadowheart smiled at her. She slid her hands around Lae’zel’s waist and pulled her close. Lae’zel shivered. “How amazing does it feel?”
“I feel alive!” Lae’zel was lucky to be in this moment, to be with these people, to be a walking, breathing, feeling thing in a world of endless wonders. “Your hair is so black, it’s shining! And the lights are so pretty! I’d never noticed before!”
“The lights are fucking beautiful!”
Shadowheart’s hands were soothing against Lae’zel’s scorching skin, her fingers shocking her where they touched and Lae’zel felt it in her very bones. For a moment it was only the two of them. Lae’zel felt her breath, her heat, her touch, she smelt the sweat and lavender perfume on her and it all consumed her in a single moment like a tidal wave. She kissed her, fingers tangling in her hair. She’d never felt a kiss like she did this one, soft lips like clouds against her own, tongue silken and soft and she wanted to get lost in it forever and ever and ever—
“Take me home with you,” she said, pulling away.
“What?” Shadowheart said, “Are you sure?”
“I need to touch you, I need to taste you. Please.”
Shadowheart looked surprised, eyes suddenly dark and hungry. She so suddenly grabbed Lae’zel’s hand and yanked her through the crowd that Lae’zel could only be led. Each touch of another’s body against her own as she pushed through the crowd had her heart hammering in her chest. When the cool night air hit her she shivered, its touch a blanket of love and calm. She turned immediately to Shadowheart and forced her against the wall, sealing her lips in for another kiss. Lae’zel lifted her up by her ass, back scraping against the cold brick wall, and Shadowheart wrapped her legs around her.
“Fuck, Lae’zel,” Shadowheart said, eyes dropping closed as Lae’zel began to suck and kiss down her neck. She could taste her sweat and she wanted more. “My house isn’t far, you can’t fuck me in the middle of the street—“
“I can,” Lae’zel replied, feeling the fire that ripped through her lower abdominals at the thought, and nipped her teeth at Shadowheart’s soft skin. “I want to.”
Shadowheart let her legs fall and pushed her gently away. Lae’zel missed the touch so desperately she thought she would die, she thought she would collapse on the floor.
“Come on,” she said, hand in Lae’zel’s own again.
She tugged her down the street. The streetlights were so orange, so beautiful in the way they illuminated the streets. Lae’zel wanted to stop and admire them, a mundane manmade beauty suddenly magical. Shadowheart tugged her onward desperately.
They reached Shadowheart’s apartment far quicker than Lae’zel remembered. Shadowheart barely got her key in the door, her hands shaking as Lae’zel kissed down the back of her neck, hands roaming across her body and underneath her black dress, finding the wet spot on her underwear and pressing.
“Fuck,” she said again, “Lae’zel just—“
The door was open and they crashed in together, Lae’zel meeting her lips so suddenly again that Shadowheart moaned, surprised, into her mouth.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” Lae’zel said, tugging down the sleeves of her dress, fingers sliding across her collarbone. “I want to worship you like the goddess you are.”
She picked Shadowheart up and thrust her onto the nearest desk, throwing her items onto the floor without care, and yanked her pants down, leaving them wrapped around her ankles. Shadowheart was breathing hard, her pretty tits rising with each inhale, and she pulled off her bra, throwing it onto the floor. Shadowheart clawed at the back of Lae’zel’s head and pulled her close.
“Just fuck me.” She said, and kissed her again, her tongue pressing firmly against Lae’zel’s, her hot breath tickling Lae’zel’s lips and mingling with her own. Lae’zel pressed her fingers against Shadowheart’s clit and the way she moaned and bucked her hips had Lae’zel fucking desperate, fucking starving, fucking aching to taste her. Shadowheart bit her lip so hard Lae’zel felt the pain of it jolt right down to her clit.
Shadowheart forced Lae’zel’s head down and she indulged, desperate to taste her. She snaked kisses down her body, tongue lazily licking at her skin, savouring the taste of her sweat. She found her rightful place beneath Shadowheart, between her legs, and moaned at the sight she found, her pretty pink vulva and clit swollen and dripping. She breathed in her scent deeply, it was rich and musky and exhilarating and Lae’zel felt herself frenzy. It was delicious. She almost growled as she took her clit into her mouth and sucked.
“Fuck,“ Shadowheart said, voice high and airy. “That’s it, fuck, good girl—“
Lae’zel moaned. She’d never been called a good girl before. She’d never thought about it. But as Shadowheart looked down at her like she wanted to eat her alive, Lae’zel wanted only for Shadowheart to force her to the floor and spank her ass. Lae’zel needed her to. She was not familiar with the desire but it devoured her all too completely. It was all she could do to let her tongue lick and taste Shadowheart’s folds, tongue fucking her entrance.
“God—“ Shadowheart’s head fell back against the wall, eyes scrunched closed, mouth open. “You’re so good with your tongue.”
The praise was delectable and churned in her stomach. She swelled with determination. She would make Shadowheart cum harder than she ever fucking had, she swore it, she swore it. She let her tongue explore her clit, finding the one place that made Shadowheart jolt and moan more than anywhere else and locked onto it, lapping and kissing and sucking it like a woman possessed. She needed more. She could feel Shadowheart’s arousal coating her lips, her tongue, her chin and cheeks and nose and it wasn’t enough. Lae’zel let two fingers enter Shadowheart so suddenly that Shadowheart cried out, hips jutting against her knuckles each time she thrust them in.
“Oh, fuck—I’m already gonna—I’m gonna—“
Lae’zel curled her fingers inside Shadowheart with a renewed pace, tongue pressing down as hard as she could on her clit and licking relentlessly. She moaned against her, feeling Shadowheart’s thighs tightening around her head, her stomach tense and firm muscles rippling. When she sucked on her clit Shadowheart screamed, ass lifting off the table as she forced herself further onto Lae’zel’s mouth, hand gripping at the table so tightly her knuckles were white and fingers red. She fucked her face and Lae’zel revelled in it, pressing and pressing her lips and tongue into wet folds until she couldn’t breathe. Shadowheart came so beautifully and unrestrained and Lae’zel was desperate to see it all again.
“Shit—“ Shadowheart said, beginning to pull away. “That was so—you’re so—“
But Lae’zel did not let her. She went right back to licking her clit and Shadowheart jolted.
“Lae’zel, what—“
She claimed her clit in her mouth again, pounding her fingers again, and brought her spare hand up to play with Shadowheart’s nipple. She found renewed vigour in the way Shadowheart gasped, nails clawing into Lae’zel’s scalp.
“I’m too sensitive,“ she breathed, head lulling forward, eyes shut, face flushed. But Lae’zel knew she could come again. She was right on the edge. She could feel Shadowheart’s walls tightening around her fingers. She never let them slow. She bit her clit gently, soothing it with a firm lick, and then sucked again.
“Oh fuck!” Shadowheart scrambled on the table, legs wrapping around Lae’zel’s back. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—“
She came again and Lae’zel lapped all of it up, starving for her taste. Her come was sweet and her sweat salty and it was fucking intoxicating. She wanted all of it. When Shadowheart was breathless, unmoving and twitching against the table, breathing hard, Lae’zel withdrew her fingers in favour of lapping up every last drop of her arousal.
“I’m—that was—“ Shadowheart was breathless. “Fuck, you’re an animal.”
She bucked against Lae’zel again when her tongue brushed her clit and entangled her fingers in Lae’zel’s hair, pulling and forcing her up for a kiss. Lae’zel could still taste Shadowheart’s wet cunt on her lips as they kissed but Shadowheart did not let her savour it. She was frantic, removing Lae’zel’s jacket and top and sports bra in one motion, lips meeting her nipple and biting down hard.
Shadowheart pulled away for only a second, dark green eyes staring up at her. “I want to fuck you with my strap,” she said, “Is that alright?”
Lae’zel felt all breath leave her, her cunt throbbing at the thought. “Yes.”
Shadowheart pushed herself off the table and kissed Lae’zel quickly. “Be right back,” she said. “Take your pants off.”
As Shadowheart left her it was all she could do to obey, taking off her shoes and socks, shaking hands undoing the button of her jeans and sliding them off. She felt suddenly exposed and unsure, but forced herself to be casual. She leaned against the table she’d just fucked Shadowheart on, staring for only a moment at the wetness gathered there, and forced herself to look away and turn around, crossing her arms under her tits. Each second was agony as she thought of what was to come, of being raw-dogged into the sofa.
Shadowheart came out moments later, dress and combat boots discarded. All she wore was the harness around her waist that accentuated curved hips and firm thighs. She held a dick in each hand – one was longer and thicker, black in colour, the other more average in size, a pretty pink.
“Which one do you want?”
Lae’zel found herself longing for the bigger one, to be filled so entirely she could think of nothing else. But she thought it best to play it safe.
“The pink one.”
Shadowheart threw the other aside and clicked it into place. She flicked the cap off her lube and applied a generous amount, rubbing up and down the shaft, eyes dark and hungry. “Bed or sofa?” she asked.
“Fucking anywhere.” Lae’zel breathed.
“Sofa it is. Lie down.”
She did not have to be told twice. The sofa was large and wide enough to support them both – actually her flat was much bigger and grander than Lae’zel would have thought – and she made her way over. She sat down and opened her legs for Shadowheart, who stood between them, running fingers down her twitching leg muscles.
“Are you ready for me, baby?”
Lae’zel squirmed against the sofa, face flushing with arousal. “God, yes.”
Shadowheart smiled at her, leaning in close above her and kissing her, only for a moment, before trailing over to her ear and biting her lobe, breathing in her ear. Lae’zel moaned, covering her face with her hand. Such a light touch had never felt so excruciatingly pleasurable before, like her whole body was set alight from a single motion. It was embarrassing, it was intoxicating, and she credited it to the ecstasy still flowing through her system.
Shadowheart pulled her hand away. “Don’t cover your pretty face. I want to see what you look like with my dick inside you.”
“I’m ready for it.” Lae’zel said, trying to hide her rising desperation.
Shadowheart laughed, fingers trailing down stomach muscles that flexed under her touch. Lae’zel was transfixed, watching it travel down, down… “To think an hour ago you could barely look at me.” Her finger found Lae’zel’s clit and she jolted, pleasure overtaking thought.
Lae’zel moaned, eyes scrunching shut in embarrassment. “You’re a fucking tease,” she breathed. “I was much kin—“
Shadowheart entered her slowly, and her words died in her throat. Lae’zel positively melted, thighs tightening, sinking into the sofa. The dick filled her inch by inch, the rim of her hole aching for more. Each inch had the moan barely held back in her throat growing louder and higher. She felt her wet walls tightening around it, hips bounding down on it, desperate to take all of her.
Shadowheart would have no trouble thrusting all of the dick in all at once, Lae’zel was far too wet, but Shadowheart purposefully took her time, hungry eyes savouring every little look that crossed Lae’zel’s face.
“You’re so pretty,” she said, with one final push as hips finally were flushed against Lae’zel’s own, who moaned. “I almost don’t want to move.”
“Don’t toy with me.”
“Oh, Lae’zel,” Shadowheart’s voice was almost pitying as the stroked down her arm, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. “I love toying with you. You get so flustered. I thought you were supposed to be a big bad butch woman?”
The words set another deep throb through her cunt but she held strong. “I will leave if—“
A single thrust. Lae’zel tensed against her, eyes rolling back in her head, mouth parting in pleasure.
“You will not.”
Lae’zel looked at her, her eyes fogged with lust, desperate to feel movement where there was none. She could feel herself rocking, trying to find friction. Shadowheart pressed into her lower abdomen, keeping her still. She grunted in frustration.
“What do you want of me?” she asked, “Do you want me to beg?”
Shadowheart smiled so deviously that Lae’zel could only stare. She traced the corners of her mouth, her black lipstick striking against her pale face. “Yes.”
“I will not—“
Another thrust, and this time a hand down on her clit. It barely touched her, the ghost of a finger just stroking the bundle of nerves of its hood. It was maddening, and Lae’zel felt herself blushing as her walls crumbled, feeling how the touch sent a jolt of pleasure firing through her nerves.
“I do not beg.”
Shadowheart pulled the dick out of her entirely. “Then you don’t get fucked.”
Lae’zel squirmed on the sofa, the emptiness aching through her body, and she could only whine. Lae’zel shut her eyes, tangling a hand in her own hair, and shivered when she felt lips running down her thighs. Teeth suddenly bit the flesh there and she moaned, hips bucking again.
“Fuck,” she said and then, “I need you inside me. I will do anything.”
“Then say please.”
Lae’zel realised that this was what Shadowheart got a kick out of—taking strong or prideful women and breaking them down with nothing but her touch and pretty face. Lae’zel was just another victim of it, but she was far too willing and drunk to possibly stop herself. When she spoke, it was through clenched teeth. “Please.”
Shadowheart entered her again in one fluid motion, suddenly fucking her with a brutal pace. Lae’zel unravelled into ecstasy, her hands grabbing out at the nearest pillow and scrunching it up in her hands, desperate for an anchor to the world.
“Was that so hard?” Shadowheart asked, breathing shallowly, wicked smirk still present on her lips.
“No,” Lae’zel replied, lost too suddenly to the feeling inside her. Shadowheart liked that answer, her touch growing more desperate as she moved from tender thighs to hard nipples, increasing the pace of her thrusting. Lae’zel felt nothing but fire coursing through her veins when fingers met her clit again, a firm touch that circled it incessantly. She felt her orgasm coming fast.
“Harder,” Lae’zel said, looking up at her with hooded eyes, and then, “Please.”
“Fuck,” Shadowheart stole Lae’zel’s lips for another kiss, her tongue stroking against Lae’zel’s and it sent a jolt of need through her, the pace of the dick fucking her so hard now the sofa rocked along with her. “You’re so desperate.”
Lae’zel only moaned again. Shadowheart grabbed her calf, hooking her leg over her shoulder, and began a renewed pace. At the new angle, it hit Lae’zel even deeper and she crooned. “Don’t stop,” she said, “don’t stop-“
“Never.”
Shadowheart smiled at her breathlessly and it was enough to make her come. She moaned, body lifting off the sofa and twisting, contorting in ecstasy. Shadowheart did not stop, grabbing her hips and forcing Lae’zel down onto her dick. Lae’zel threw her head back in a series of cries, clutching at the pillow at her side. She moved to put it over her face and bite it, but Shadowheart stopped her.
When Lae’zel finally felt as if she was coming down from the clouds, Shadowheart still did not stop. She changed her pace from fast and hard to slow, deep thrusts that melted her insides. “Stop, or I’ll come again-“
“That’s the idea, baby. You treated me so well. I just want to repay the favour.”
Lae’zel opened her eyes long enough to look at Shadowheart who was panting, abdominal muscles flexing with each deep thrust, one toned arm wrapped around her leg, the other saw her hand pressed into Lae’zel’s hips. She was sweating, her deep green eyes staring into Lae’zel’s own, and Lae’zel found it all suddenly too much. She looked away.
Shadowheart grabbed her chin and guided her back. “Watch me,” she said. “Watch me make you come again.”
She gripped Lae’zel’s other leg and brought it over her shoulder too. It only further intensified the flurry of heat, of feeling, of the dick hitting so deep inside her Lae’zel could only collapse under her touch. “Shadowheart—!”
She came again, hand slapping to her face in an attempt to control the overwhelming pleasure, teeth biting at the fleshy part of her palm. Shadowheart, above her, moaned and leaned down to kiss Lae’zel. The new angle spiralled her orgasm to extra heights and when lips met her own she cried into Shadowheart’s mouth. Shadowheart licked her upper lip and swallowed her moans with a fierce kiss that knocked the remaining breath from her lungs.
“That’s it, baby.” Shadowheart murmured against her mouth. “How good does my dick feel.”
“So good…“
Shadowheart fucked her into she calmed, until her muscles were quivering until she could not keep her head up on her own. Slowly she pulled her dick out, aware of how sensitive Lae’zel’s pussy was, but she jolted anyway.
Lae’zel felt suddenly spent, panting, and yawned. “I can’t remember the last time I came that hard,” she said. She did not want to inflate Shadowheart’s ego, but she could not deny the truth.
“Oh?” Shadowheart collapsed next to her. “Not even with that ex-girlfriend of yours?”
Lae’zel thought for a moment, ignoring the sting of upset at the words. “No,” she said. “Not even with her.”
Lae’zel knew there was going to be a problem when the idea did not panic her. But when Shadowheart suggested they go to bed and curled herself around Lae’zel as the big spoon, Lae’zel could only fall asleep, entirely relaxed.