Little Minx

by Stargirl12321

Summary:

Gale and the party finally reached Baldur's Gate on the tail end of the Absolute's army. Exhausted and weary the party agree to attend none other than Lord Enver Gortash's inauguration to a higher position in the government.

What, or rather who, they meet at this inauguration at Gortash's right hand changes the entire projection of their quest - and Gale's life.

The fallen angel, the little minx.

Notes:

I'm not going to lie, I wrote this when I was supposed to be studying for my math final.

Chapter 1: Inauguration

Baldur’s Gate was splendorous. The city wide and expansive. The weary party could almost taste the end of their tiresome journey as they crossed the bridge from Rivington to Wyrm’s Crossing.

Gale was resolute, ready to take on the Netherbrain and kill himself in the process; save Faerûn and appease his goddess and ex-lover Mystra. He had failed once at Moonrise in a moment of weakness and fear, he would not let that happen again. Even if secretly he wanted to learn about the crown of Karsus for his own selfish reasons; Mystra always said ambition was his best and worst quality.

As the party approached the large stone arch of Wyrm’s Crossing a Steel Watch turned towards them. Its gears squealed mechanically as its metallic gaze swooped down upon the party.

Lae’Zel drew in a sharp hissing breath from beside Gale. Her scarred hand reached back towards the greatsword, Soulbreaker, strapped to her back.

Karlach quickly moved to rest a hand on the Giths shoulder, as if to tell her to relax. That they were not in immediate danger quite yet. Best not to anger the large machine.

The Steel Watcher seemed to study the party for a long moment, though it was not truthfully studying anything from its lack of conscience. However, as Astarion made a tentative step to move past it, since it seemed to not care, it began to speak. Astarion leaping back beside the others.

“Greetings!” The voice spoke out of it, a man's voice, not the automated voice that had come out of the one standing at the guard bridge of the city. “Old friends and new friends, welcome to Baldur's Gate!”

Karlach physically bristled at the sound of the voice. The hair on her body came to stand on end. It was him. He was so close. She was so close.

“Er… Hello.” Gale responded to the machine, not quite sure what was happening or how to address the thing.

“Allow me to formally invite you to my inauguration. Please make your way to the ceremonial hall.” The machine gestured as if really human as it spoke its invitation to the party. However, as soon as it finished its invite and the man’s presence left it, it returned back to its programming.

No one in the party spoke for a long moment as they stared in surprise at the machine. Shadowheart was the first to break the silence. “I’m not certain we should be going to an inauguration that a mysterious voice from that thing invited us to.”

“We’re going.” Karlach responded, her large body practically trembling in anticipation as she gnashed at the bit to get at the man. Lord Enver Gortash.

“Are you sure?” Wyll responded carefully, his eyes betraying concern for the tiefling woman.

“Certain.” Karlach gritted out, though her yellow eyes softened slightly at Wyll’s question. “I just need to see him. To know that it is within reach.”

Gale nodded, understanding Karlach’s plea. Though a part of him secretly wondered if Karlach would get ahead of herself and rage against Gortash now that he was within reach once again. Now was not the time for that, not with the Steel watch and the Flaming Fist on his side.

“Lead the way.” He said to Wyll, understanding the banished noble probably had the best knowledge of where the ceremonial hall at Wyrm’s Crossing was.

Wyll’s jaw tensed and untensed before he relented. Understanding most of the party was going to follow Gale’s lead, as well as the fact most of the party wanted to give Karlach what she wanted. “Alright.”

Wyll’s footsteps were heavy as he trudged along the hallways of Wyrm’s Crossing. His demon and dead eye set upon the steep staircase leading upwards to the ceremonial hall.

Gale followed closely, his dark eyes keen to see this out. To see the man they would have to slay in order to confront the netherbrain. A certain part of him - one that hated to admit it - wondered if Gortash could potentially be an ally. An ally to get the crown of Karsus in Gale’s hands. However, Gale would never truly consider that, Karlach deserved justice - and if he refused her that, well he would most likely be left on his own.

The stairs leading up to the ceremonial hall were steeper to climb than they were to simply look at. The higher they climbed the louder the cheerful conversation of nobility waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Karlach drew in a sharp breath as they reached the top of the stairs, her eyes narrowing as her sights set on Lord Enver Gortash. Her enemy; the one who brought her torment.

The man looked casual, and strangely well groomed from how Karlach remembered him looking from time to time. His black hair combed and gelled back, shaved to have a short beard and appearing rather radiant. His smile was pearly white and welcoming as he greeted the other lords and ladies who had come to bear witness.

“Well, doesn’t he look grand.” Wyll remarked dryly, also surprised at the appearance of the man he recognised from years before. His eyes swooped around the ceremonial hall, in search for his practically lobotomized father. No doubt Gortash had him propped up somewhere, waiting for the moment to be anointed the archduke.

Karlach trembled with barely contained rage. All the pain and suffering she had endured because of a choice he made; and he stood up at the head of the room looking like he had never been healthier.

Gale set his jaw and began the long walk up the lavish red carpet leading to Gortash. Gesturing with a hand for the rest of the party to stay back, particularly Karlach.

Gortash’s dark eyes swept from the nobleman in front of him to the approaching wizard. The smile on his face deepened, becoming something almost eerie. The quite perturbed nobleman huffed at the sudden loss of attention and moved off to get something from the dinner table.

“Slaughterer of the dead general.” Gortash drawled, meeting Gale's discerning gaze. “We have much to discuss, you and I.” His gold embroidered black clothes rustled as he reached out to shake Gale’s hand; the golden talon rings on his hand glinting in the sunlight. The light catching on the rich purple of his netherstone.

Gale regarded the other man’s hand for a beat or two before accepting it; shaking it firmly. “Yes. Yes, we do.” Gale agreed grimly, at an unusual loss of words - figuring it was best to let Gortash do the talking for the time being.

Gortash’s eyes swept over the rest of the party behind Gale. Seeming as though he knew who each and everyone of them were. As if he had been watching. As if he had eyes everywhere.

“Orin the Red. She has decided to backstab me after Ketheric’s death and now wants control of the netherbrain for herself.” Gortash spoke to Gale, his tone hushed so that the fluttering nobles could not overhear.

“From what I heard Ketheric saying after you and Orin left, I believe he was also planning on backstabbing your little alliance.” Gale said as if it was something Gortash should have known already.

Gortash’s eyes narrowed, though only for a moment so brief Gale wondered if he had imagined it. “I suppose I should not be shocked at that news. The desire for power for an individual is sometimes so tempting. Our alliance was doomed to fail; I shall not mourn over it.”

Gortash smiled once again, “Though I do see promise in you; a promising ally. I can not go after Orin, such would violate the pact we made, but you can. You need to dispose of her regardless, she is in your way. If you get me her netherstone, you and I will begin a new alliance; as they say: the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Gale’s brown eyes flickered between Gortash’s, searching for any hint of deceit. Though he found none, the other man appeared to be in earnest, creating a rather tempting offer. Could he hurt Karlach like this?

He blinked hard, looking over his shoulder back at the rest of the party who watched with calculated stares. As he looked back to Gortash he recalled that by process of elimination, the only dead god left was Bane: God of Tyranny, total domination. Gortash could never allow a complete alliance.

As if sensing Gale’s hesitance Gortash’s radiant smile began to fall, though only for a moment. “Consider it; my offer remains.” He turned away from Gale, raising his arms to bring the crowd to silence; a brilliant smile plastered to his face.

Quickly, Shadowheart grabbed Gale’s arm, tugging him to sit in one of the pews. It was best not to look too out of place between all of the nobility.

Grand Duke Ravengard emerged from a curtain behind the throne, his eyes looking absently upon Gortash as he knelt in front of him.

“Father.” Wyll hissed out, his hands flexing. Fighting the urge to stand and unleash an attack on Gortash to aid in his fathers rescue - no doubt Karlach would help.

“That is your father no longer.” Astarion responded in a hushed voice to Wyll. His words cruel and honest, though an undertone of uncommon sympathy loomed underneath.

Ravengard drew his ceremonial sword out of its scabbard, raising it to hold it in front of his chest. “Do you swear to protect and keep Baldur's Gate and its people safe?” His voice came out rehearsed, almost as if he was being puppeted from the inside out. In a way he was.

Gortash held a hand to his chest, his head bowed. “I swear .”

Wylls father raised the sword, tapping each of the other man's shoulders and then his head. “I anoint you, Archduke Enver Gortash.”

The crowd remained silent for a moment, shocked that the actual inauguration was so short. The people usually used to long monologues and blessings beforehand. Though, as Gortash stood once again and raised his hands in triumph the crowd cheered for him - for the most part glad they didn’t have to sit through another multi-hour ceremony.

The party however remained docile for the most part. A few of them clapped placidly, while others - namely Karlach - was staring so intently at Gortash he may well have burst into flames.

Astarion leaned in Gale’s direction as the clapping died and people began to get up to properly congratulate Gortash. “Let’s beat it out of here towards the Elfsong.” The vampire hissed.

Gale nodded, swallowing thickly; Gortash’s offer fresh in his mind. “Yes. You, Wyll, Karlach, and Lae’Zel should get going.”

“And what of you and Shadowheart?” Astarion asked, raising his eyebrows. A glimmer of suspicion in his red eyes. “Should I assume the two of you are simply going to make love in this new place?”

Gale bristled at the vampire's crude remark; he knew Gale and Shadowheart had nothing of that sort happening yet still needlessly picked on him about it. “Yes. You assume that.” Gale responded coldly, watching the vampire rise from the pew.

Astarion smiled wickedly down at the wizard, slipping out past him along with Lae’Zel. A few moments later Wyll followed, practically dragging Karlach along with him.

“We’ll see you two animals in heat soon.” Astarion called over his shoulder, a little too loudly, as he left. A few nobles cast odd looks to Astarion and then over to a very perturbed Gale and unbothered Shadowheart.

“So, why are we sticking around?” Shadowheart questioned, seeming a little bothered that she wasn’t also going to the tavern and inn.

Gale sighed, slowly rising up from the pew. “Some of us need to stay and congratulate the new duke. Lest it leave our poor party looking suspicious.”

“So you sent those of us that either would not make a good impression or would freak out away. Aside from Wyll, he can control himself; I assume you made him leave so Karlach would actually leave.”

Gale nodded, approaching Gortash who stood in front of the throne of Wyrm’s Crossing. Wyll’s lobotomized father already having been wheeled out. Shadowheart trailed behind Gale, not wanting to deal with Gortash personally.

The noble’s in front of Gale finished their well wishes to the new duke and slipped away, leaving Gale and Shadowheart alone with Gortash in the courtroom. The door snapping shut as the last left.

Gortash turned to Gale and Shadowheart, a wolfish grin spreading over his face. “So, how was the ceremony? Did it live up to your expectations?”

“It was short. You really cut the theatrics and rite of passage stuff out by hiring the lobotomized guy. Though I’m sure he’s the only one who would do it for you, huh?” Shadowheart spoke from behind Gale, unable to resist the jab.

Gortash scowled, his eyes launching to the white haired woman. “I was not talking to you. I was talking to your friend here.”

Shadowheart snorted, rolling her eyes. She crossed her arms over her still armoured chest, choosing to look around the sunlit room instead of at the two men in front of her. She would not give either the time of day, that was what they wanted.

The two men engaged in pleasantries; seeming to size each other up truly now. Neither mentioning the conversation they had shared prior to the ceremony.

The grand door of the ceremonial chamber clicked as it opened once again. Gortash’s dark eyes slid past Gale as the two talked, a slight smile spreaded over his lips as he spotted the person who entered.

Gale began to turn his head towards where Gortash was looking; undeniably curious about who had entered. Friend or Foe? Ambush? However, the person was already moving past him as he turned to look, a flurry of white silk and blonde hair crossing his vision.

“Little minx.” Gortash murmured as Gale looked back towards the man.

Gale’s heart leapt into his throat. Beside Gortash stood one of the most stunningly beautiful women he had ever seen. Adorned in white silks and crystals.

Gortash took a strand of her long blonde hair in his taloned hand, weaving it around his finger before bringing it to his lips to kiss. “You two, meet my lovely little minx: Joan Lebedev.”

Joan’s eyes swept over Shadowheart and then to Gale. Her pale blue eyes pierced into him. “Pleasure.” She finally spoke, pulling the strand of her hair Gortash held from him. An engagement ring glimmering on her ring finger. His little minx .

“The pleasure is mine, my lady.” Gale fumbled with his words for a moment, looking away from her soul searching gaze back to Gortash. “How long have you two been engaged?”

“A year or more.” Gortash shrugged, a sly smile crossing his face at Gale’s reaction to her.

Gale nodded, swallowing hard. “Well then, congratulations on that as well - both of you.” His eyes briefly darted back over to Joan who still stared at him intently.

Joan furrowed her brow, looking at Shadowheart. The other woman was trying to decide if she thought Joan was also lobotomized by a tadpole.

“Don’t look at me like you think I’m a rabid animal in a zoo.” Joan spoke, inspiring a laugh from Gortash. One of his arms snaked around her hip.

“She’s quite feisty.” Gortash chuckled, much to Joan’s obvious disdain.

After a moment more of trying Shadowheart got that snap of her brain to Joan’s. The tadpole connection. Distorted chunks of the other woman's memories flooding her brain before abruptly being cut off; Joan’s pale eyes launching back onto Shadowheart.

“Get out of my head before I make you.” Joan’s mind hissed to Shadowhearts in warning.

“You’ve been tadpoled; like Grand Duke Ravengard. Though presumably not like us.”

Joan’s mind laughed cruelly into Shadowhearts. Her lips curled into a rueful smile. “Like that freak? Oh gods no. If they tried to put one of those mind controllers in there I’d have eaten their livers for dinner.” Joan turned her pale gaze back to Gortash who seemed to still be speaking to Gale. Though even with the woman’s obvious focus turned away from her, Shadowheart could feel her slender hands trying to slither into what memories the mother superior didn’t take away..

No, Joan was definitely not like Grand Duke Ravengard. She was like her and the others. Like her fiancé. Maybe not one of the three pronged heads of the new religion, but she was certainly one of the breadwinners.

Gortash looked from Gale down to his minx, a smile crossing his face. “You and your party should come to my ball this evening.” He looked back over to Gale and Shadowheart. “We’d love to have you at my celebration. Just remember to dress appropriately: It’s a masquerade.”

Shadowheart and Gale exchanged a look; contemplating if making an appearance would be setting the party up for an ambush and certain failure, or if this would be a good way to infiltrate and earn trust.

Minutely Shadowheart shook her head, something in the way Joan looked at them setting her flesh to crawl. She was unsure if the look was one of warning, if she was picking up on something she shouldn’t, or if the woman just looked at everyone that way.

Gale swallowed, looking back towards Gortash and Joan and then back to Shadowheart. He couldn’t let this opportunity slip by. If there was a possibility to get a leg up they needed it.

“We’ll be there. I presume it’s back here?” Gale spoke, sensing Shadowhearts bristling anger almost immediately.

A sly grin slid onto Gortash’s lips and something unrecognizable crossed Joan’s eyes. And a cold worry washed over Gale on whether he had made the right call or not.

“Yes.” Gortash murmured. “I’ll see you back here tonight, wizard.” With that the new archduke began to leave, guiding his minx with him by the hand on her hip.

As soon as Gortash vanished around a corner Shadowheart grabbed Gale by the collar and began to drag him towards the exit. “What in the nine hells were you thinking!” She snarled at him as they began to descend the stairs.

“We need the leg up,” Gale began his tone defensive, even though he himself was beginning to doubt his judgment - he could never let her know that though. “And if I am wrong, well, we will find a way out and you can send me to my goddess yourself.”

Shadowheart glowered at Gale for a long moment. The idea of her being allowed to be the one to kill him gave her some sort of sick satisfaction. Sharan habits die hard. “ Fine. But if Karlach goes ape shit it’s your neck on the line.” She released Gale’s collar with finality as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Gale rubbed his neck, staring at Shadowheart coldly out of the corner of his eye as the exited Wyrm’s Crossing to head to the Elfsong Tavern. “Yes yes, whatever you say. If Karlach is unable to control herself it is all my fault.”

“It will be.” Was all the cleric snapped back to him, dropping the two into silence for a long moment. “Gortash’s little minx, Joan, she is infected like us. Not like Duke Ravengard, if you cared to know.”

Gale regarded Shadowheart for a long moment. “I assumed as much, given how much free will she had to tell you off earlier.” A small smirk crossed the wizard's lips in amusement at the memory.

“Yes, well.” Shadowheart paused, seeming at a momentary loss of words. “My point is we shouldn’t underestimate her. She is dangerous, I do not know how dangerous but I know she is.”

Their footsteps were heavy on the cobblestone streets as Gale absorbed the cleric's words that were mostly swallowed up by the chatter of the city folk.

“I was never planning on letting my guard down at all in this city. Given all the cult of Bhaal murders and the Absolute rampaging.” He cast a look over to his companion. “Though, I appreciate your concern, as unwarranted as it is.”

Shadowheart gazed at Gale for a moment and then back to the roads and the approaching tavern. She did not speak more, figuring she’d be more wise to try and convince Lae’Zel to let her have a turn watching the Gith egg than argue with Gale.

Even still, she felt worried for the wizard. She understood his ambition knew no bounds. She saw the way he looked at Joan with hunger. And she saw how she looked back at him with a hunger of her own - though not necessarily carnal, more like Gale was her next meal. Whether the minx was happy about it or not was a whole other thing.

Gale opened the tavern door, letting Shadowheart enter first, as was his way. As the two entered the tavern they were assaulted by the loud chatter and music of the tavern goers.

Shadowheart shoved and elbowed her way through the swaths of people, Gale trailing behind and apologizing to those who seemed more perturbed.

“Did an elf come in here?” Shadowheart yelled at the barkeep over the noise. “White hair, red eyes, about yea tall?”

The barkeep remained silent for a moment, processing her words before nodding and yelling back. “Yeah, I presume you two are the two he told me would be joining?”

“Yes, that would be correct.” Gale responded, having to tilt an ear in the direction of the young man to hear what he was saying. “Can you tell us what room, kind sir?”

“Up the stairs to the left, double doors. Got you the whole top floor aside from the deceased Dutchess’s room.” The man thrust his thumb back towards the stairs, trying to usher the two away as fast as possible so he could go back to serving drinks.

The two once again began to shove their way through the crowd til they finally reached the much less crowded stairs. The loud chatter and music fading away the further they climbed up the stairs until they reached the second floor.

“I’m going to take a hot bath and then get some fresh food.” Shadowheart murmured dreamily as Gale opened the door for the two of them.

“Fantastic idea, I may do likewise.” The wizard responded, his eyes trailing the huge room. Most of the party either were elsewhere to bathe already or snoozing on the plush tavern beds.

Shadowheart did not respond, crossing the room to one of the unoccupied beds to toss her heavy gear bag down and strip off the heavy outer layers of her armour. Eager to find herself a hot bath and then enjoy a meal that wasn’t morsels cooked over a campfire.

Gale sighed, watching his companion briefly before heading towards the only other empty bed. The one that just so happened to be between Astarion and Karlach.

Astarion roused from his light sleep, sitting up in the rather eerie way vampires do. “How was the sex in Wyrm’s Crossing?”

Gale scowled at his friend, still unamused at this long riding joke of his. “It was delightful.” The wizard dropped his pack to the floor and fell back against his bed with a sigh.

“I can tell, you seem rather tuckered.” The vampire snickered to himself, enjoying the perturbed look on Gale’s face. He gazed at his friend a moment longer before sighing. “What’s the word?”

Gale cast a tired look towards Astarion. “I may have gotten us invited to a ball tonight to celebrate Gortash’s inauguration.”

Astarion’s white eyebrows shot up in surprise at that mention. “Oh? Then I suppose I should be looking for something to wear. I don’t believe showing up in battle attire is the smartest idea.”

“No. No, that would not be a good idea.” Gale agreed; he hadn’t even considered that the party may be lacking the essential clothes to go to an event like that.

Astarion swung his legs from the bed and began digging around for his coin pouch. “And what of Karlach? Personally, I hope she goes bananas, that would be rather entertaining.”

Gale had to withhold a groan as the elf mentioned another crucial plot hole in this whole plan. Why did he agree again? Advantage? Or was it some lustful wish to see that little minx again? To have her pale eyes pierce his soul once again.

“I suppose we could potentially leave her here?” Astarion continued to blabber on, as if oblivious to his friend's internal struggle.

“We’re not leaving Karlach here.” Gale gritted out, pushing a palm to his forehead as if in an attempt to push the bombarding image of the minx’s eyes looking up at him from her knees with his cock in her mouth. “That’s final.”

Astarion cast an incredulous look over to Gale, as if surprised the wizard would be so insistent on the tiefling tagging along. The vampire unconsciously glanced down the wizard’s body, his eyebrows rising further at the growing bulge in the wizards' trousers.

“My… What’s got you so excited?” The elf couldn’t help but ask, thoughts of Karlach dashed away - it was an uncommon occurrence to see the man in front of him riled up.

Gale’s face flamed as he abruptly sat up, tossing his robe back over his lap in a failed attempt to hide his erection. “Nothing Astarion… it’s just… well you know how it is having a penis!”

Astarion’s lip curled into a smirk, revealing one of his vampire teeth. “I assure you, I do. And of my having a penis, I should know getting that hard does not simply happen randomly.” Astarion tapped at his chin, meeting the ashamed, blown out pupils of his wizard companion. “Are you perhaps thinking about your tryst with Shadowheart earlier?”

Gale groaned, wishing he could stand and walk away from the elf, but doing so would make him walk past Lae’Zel. Having her see his bulge was more mortifying than anything Astarion could spew.

“Or, are you thinking about Lae’Zel’s Gith body wrapping around you; Gith produce asexually, you wouldn’t have to worry about getting her pregnant.” Astarion hummed quietly. “Or maybe you’re thinking about Karlach ‘riding you til dawn’ as she so eloquently puts it. Or, maybe you swing the other way and are thinking about Wyll and I.”

Gale’s jaw twitched. “I am not thinking about any of you.” He protested, his chest heaving slightly from embarrassment and arousal. The image of Gortash’s fiancée’s face splattered with his cum burned into his mind. “It’s just… Natural.”

“Natural my ass, I have never seen someone that hard ‘just because’ aside from the occasional over-excited morning wood.” Astarion continued to tease. The vampire watched as Gale finally stood.

“What way to the bathroom?” Gale mumbled, wanted to escape the torment and hopefully cleanse himself of the impure thoughts.

“Planning on jacking off?” Astarion managed one final taunt before pointing towards a door, luckily just a couple feet away from their beds.

Gale didn’t respond to the vampire's final remark, he was not willing to give him the satisfaction of it. His fists clenching and unclenching as he grabbed some clothes to change into and nudged open the door to one small bathroom. Luckily, it was empty and he did not walk in on one of the others bathing.

The wizard snapped the door shut behind him, ridding himself of the vampire’s lingering stares as he locked the door. He stripped off his over robe as he cast a simple, create water spell on the wash tub. As he waited for the second spell he cast to heat the water he traced the orb on his chest.

Elminster told him it was stable and that he could control it now. That he did not have to worry about exploding from too much excitement. But he couldn’t help but wonder if love making was safe. And even if it was, what if the woman he chose asked too many questions about it?

He undid the ties of his trousers, ridding himself of them and then his briefs, his still half-hard cock bouncing free.

No doubt the orb may still glow from the excitement, even if stable. And if it glowed would it sear his flesh like it used to? No doubt that would be a mood kill. For both him and his lady-friend.

The soles of his bare feet met the hot water as he sunk into the tub with a soft sigh. The little minx had some of the most soul-reading and discerning eyes he had ever seen; no doubt she would ask a million questions if he was lucky enough to get her in bed.

Cupping his hands under the hot water he scooped some up and poured it over his head, soaking his hair so he could wash it. How long had it been since he got to bath in actual hot water and not some river stream? He supposed a few weeks ago when he bathed at Last Light. Even still, a few weeks was too long of a time to go without an actual bath.

He snatched the bottle of wash liquid off the counter, squirting some into his hands to lather into his hair. The soap smelled faintly of incense.

Everytime he closed his eyes to prevent soap dribbling into them he could see the minx. Joan, that was her name. He could see Joan in various states of disarray from him. He wanted nothing more than to trail the slight form of her body with his lips. To draw orgasm from her due to his practiced tongue. To have her nestled in the pillows of his plush bed in Waterdeep as he made love to her, doing what she asked of him just to see her pretty face go absent with orgasm.

He poured more water over his head to wash the soap out, wiping the remnants of water and soap from his eyes as he opened them again. He couldn’t be thinking of her like that, he shouldn’t, she was an engaged woman; as well as his enemy for crying out loud!

He clenched his jaw, sorting through the products on the side of the wash tub until he found what he was looking for. Conditioner. His hair was long enough to warrant some. He squirted some of the creamy liquid onto his hand before massaging it into the ends and mid lengths of his hair. The damp hair curled into soft ringlets on the sides of his neck and face.

The wizard could imagine the touch of her hand as it brushed one of the ringlets that always clung to his forehead when he got sweaty. Her lips grazing his face as her soft and rich voice told him how good he was after he made love to her.

Gale bit the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste the faint metallicness of his blood. Slowly he sat up straight in the tub, leaving the conditioner in his hair as he grabbed a wash sponge. He lathered it in the body wash he had found before beginning to scrub the dirt, sweat and dead skin off his body.

At any other point in his life he’d be disgusted that he was so dirty. Even when he was wildly depressed after Mystra casted him aside he managed to bathe himself at least every second day. That had always been one of his prides: that he was impeccably well groomed. Aside from the depression beard he had grown to love.

Gently, he pried his hard cock off his lower stomach. Scrubbing at the patch of dark hair and brown baby hairs that lead to his navel. Gods forbid he go around any longer with his pubic hair smelling like “auntie” Ethel’s lair - regardless if anyone was able to smell it. He knew it did not smell pleasant and that was all that mattered.

He winced as he released his cock from his grip, the sensitive flesh slapping against the damp skin of his navel. Gale could feel it twitch in protest, both that it was released so cruelly and at the loss of touch. He would wash it last, hopefully after it calmed down again - and if it hadn’t? Well then he might give himself some self love.

Gale scrubbed down the rest of his body before looking on in disgust at the filthy water below. He would have to create a whole new wash basin to properly rinse himself off.

With a snap of his fingers and a small incantation the dirty water vanished and clean water appeared. The cold feeling of the new water shocked his senses and almost immediately made his boner vanish in seeking of warmth.

The wizard sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, muttering a burning hands spell under his breath in an attempt to rapidly heat up the water surrounding him.

Slower than he would have liked, the now clear water heated up. The warmth seeped into his flesh for a moment before being pulled away again as the water moved back and forth in invisible currents. The gradual warming made him shiver more than the shock of the cold water did.

As is the way of a scholar, Gale couldn’t help but wonder if Karlach took hot baths or cold. On the one hand a cold bath may feel like the arctic on her molten skin, but on the other maybe it felt as good as a cold drink on a summer day. No doubt the hot water would always at least feel cool against her fiery skin. 

Of course, he would never muse these findings aloud to the tiefling, pondering about her in the tub was certain to get the wrong reaction; especially after the women found out he graphed their cycles based on their moods to avoid confrontation.

He sank into the lukewarm water until he was fully submerged, running his hands through his conditioned hair to rid it of the product. When he came up he pushed his hair out of his eyes, blinking away the water droplets on his dark eyelashes.

Gently he took his soft dick in his hands, washing the sensitive appendage thoroughly. So thoroughly the mostly neglected thing became semi-hard by the time he was done.

With a sigh he snapped away the water, rising out of the now empty tub. He ran his hand through his damp ringlets again as he padded across the room, the leftover water on his body leaving footprints in his wake.

He tore open the door of the cupboard to find a soft white towel to wrap around his hips after he squeezed the remaining water from his hair.

Carefully he examined himself in the mirror, tracing his finger over the orb scar on his chest. Physically, he had changed a lot over the last few months. No longer was he frail from the combination of a depression induced eating disorder and the orb; he was strong.

He supposed he could mostly thank Elminster for that, that he stabilized the orb so it would stop feeding off of him and he could actually eat quite a bit more real food without feeling sick. Other than that he couldn’t really give much more credit, the whole party didn’t eat a whole lot some days because of rationing. It was a miracle some of them, Karlach and Lae’Zel in particular, didn’t pass out from malnutrition from all the calories they burned.

Gale of Waterdeep. That was who he was, and as he looked at himself in the mirror he felt more like it than he had alone in his tower.

His knuckles grazed down his body, down the soft hairs of his chest and the muscles from all the work he did that were covered by a decent layer of body fat. Not enough to hide the new definition, but enough to keep him healthy.

For the first time in a year or more he felt handsome as he gazed at himself in the mirror. Like he was a man and not just a wizard. Gale Dekarios .

He closed his eyes, tracing the outline of the orb again. He had not felt truly desirable since Mystra cast him aside, but as he recalled how the minx looked at him he felt desirable carnally.

Mystra had never been able to touch him in the flesh, instead opting for cosmic psychological sexual encounters. The last time he could remember having anything but was maybe when he was twenty-two and made out with a woman at a bar; but that was hardly sexual. Other than that maybe when he was in his late teens, shortly before Mystra swooped in.

He chewed at his lip as he grazed his hands along his lower stomach and pubic line. His breath quickened slightly as his arousal built again.

If Gortash wasn’t in the way he would’ve attempted to court his beautiful minx immediately. But he would never stoop as low as to solicit a woman who was in a relationship; unless of course it was an open one, as that was what Elminster and Mystra were in.

He felt a slight twinge go through him at the thought of his old lover. Despite their splitting, he felt guilty to be lusting over another woman; especially since up until this point he was telling himself he was still in love with her - even if he was starting to lose that feeling.

Gale sucked in a breath through his teeth, still trying to cling onto this arousal and much needed strand of self love. It was never going to come to pass, he could fantasize and enjoy himself to the idea of a woman other than Mystra just this once.

He slowly expelled the breath, starting to tease himself through the towel with one hand while the other caressed across his chest. His mind conjured up images of the woman of his desires, that it was her pale, freckled hands grazing his hot skin instead of his own. The daydream was so vivid he felt his breath catch in his throat for a moment as his body responded.

His hand on the towel gently unraveled it, dropping it to the floor around his feet. Gently, he took his hardening cock in one of his large, warm hands, stroking it slowly from base to tip until it was fully erect. Almost as if he was attempting to get acquainted with it once again.

Gale’s forehead knotted slightly as he tried to focus on his fantasy, his eyes still screwed closed. In his mind's eye she was on the counter in front of him, her legs loosely placed on his hip bones as she guided him slowly into herself.

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath as he braced one hand on the counter in front of him, loosely starting to thrust his hips into his hand; attempting to simulate the idea of having sex further.

He choked back a soft groan, all to aware the other companions were in the next room over - even in his lust clouded fever. It was always a little bit of a source of embarrassment for Gale, that he tended to become vocal in the throes of pleasure; even if most women enjoyed knowing their man liked it it still felt embarrassing. Joan loved it, at least that’s what he chose to believe.

Joan, he could see her. Her long blonde hair sticking to her damp, pale skin. A lust fogged look in those pale eyes. The way her breasts would jiggle with each of his thrusts. Her voice soft and throaty - she nipped at his ears and neck - moaned and told him he was so good.

He groaned softly in protest to himself as he forced his hand off his aching cock, pre-cum weeping from the pink tip. His chest heaved, this was progressing too rapidly; he needed to draw it out a little longer, draw out the pleasure he had been denying himself because he was too busy surviving and worrying.

Gale’s eyes slowly opened. He gazed at himself in the mirror, still damp ringlets falling in his face, eyes blown out, orb slightly glowing, cock twitching angrily. His Adam's apple bobbed as he looked at himself, this is what a real woman, a physical woman, drove him too, and quite frankly, he enjoyed it.

He shuddered as he took his aching dick in his hand again, free hand trailing across his chest and neck as his eyes fluttered closed again.

It had been quite a long time since he felt like a horny teenage boy again. In fact, part of him wondered if he had ever been this horny even as a teenager, given most of his formative years were spent studying day and night. The flitting thought crossed his mind that maybe he’d have to give the old ‘hump a pillow’ thing a go sometime.

“Oh gods…” He mumbled into the quiet air of the bathroom, downright fucking himself into his hand at that point. What he would have given in that moment to have had his fantasy brought to life was unreal.

Gale’s head fell forward some, his chest heaving. His imaginary lovers round breasts in his face, her fingers threaded through his hair ‘ suck on them for me ’. And gods he wanted to.

He wanted to please her, no doubt her current fiancé was not very good at that, he seemed like the type to get his and leave. But Gale? No, he wanted to worship that woman’s body, kiss every inch of it and bring her to sweet orgasm on his tongue so he could taste and then again on his cock.

Gale stifled a soft moan by pressing his free hand over his mouth. The image of her crying his name in orgasm as her warm, wet walls clamped down around him making him feel down right pornographic.

Goosebumps riddled his body from the sensations, the tremble in his thighs beginning as his orgasm approached quite rapidly. He drew in a sharp breath, starting to feel dizzy from it all.

For a brief moment he wondered where he was supposed to finish; he was leaning against the counter in the bathroom. As a man who was known to cum quite a bit, he would most likely make a mess all over the mirror and countertop. That thought was flitting though, he was a wizard, a simple spell and it would be like it never happened. 

He shuttered, his orgasm practically upon him. The imaginary voice of his lover egging him on, telling him he could finish inside, her legs tightened around his hips to prevent him from pulling out…

A loud knock at the bathroom door startled him out of his orgasm and daydream. His head swung towards the sound, eyes wide as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His hand still loosely wrapped around his protesting cock.

“Hey, Wizard!” Karlach’s voice pierced the now still air. “You almost finished there? I need to bathe as well and Wyll and Astarion want to go shopping for that stupid ball.”

Gale groaned, dropping his hand off his softening dick. The arousal leaving but the blue balls beginning. “Yes, just a moment.” He responded to the tiefling, hoping she couldn’t hear the tremble in his voice.

He gazed back at the mirror for a moment, at the faint glow of the orb that was quickly vanishing. A wave of relief washing over him - at least this solved one question, now that the orb was stable it didn’t ache to become emotionally riled up.

Slowly, he dressed himself in the fresh clothes he brought with him. If he was more into taking a risk he would quickly try and finish. Alas, he knew better than to test the patience of his fiery companion. The last thing he wanted was for her to worry he slipped and cracked his head and burst in on him with his pants down.

“There, the bathroom is free for your use.” Gale said as he unlocked the bathroom, exiting past the tiefling, tucking his shirt into his pants.

Karlach gazed on as Gale passed her by, if she noticed the flush on his face she didn’t say anything. The large woman ducked into the bathroom and shut the door.

Astarion lounged casually on the bed, a smirk growing on his lips as Gale dropped his dirty robes to the floor near his own bed. “Good orgasm?” The elf questioned.

Gale’s face flamed. “Sweet hells! What’s wrong with you! You, you can no t just ask people those things, you know!” It was in fact not a good orgasm, no orgasm at all actually, but the vampire did not need to know that.

Astarion shrugged casually, swinging his legs out of the bed. Eyeing Wyll as he approached the two. The rogue leaned in close to Gale, his voice hushed so the Warlock couldn’t overhear. “It certainly sounded good.”

Damn that high-elf and his superior hearing. Gale just prayed none of the other companions with race enhanced hearing could hear him.

Astarion straightened up quickly, patting down his shirt as he looked to Wyll. “Ready to grace us with your superior knowledge of Baldurian high court fashion? I would know, but I fear my knowledge is a few centuries out of date.”

Wyll casted a gaze towards the red faced Gale, but inevitably chose it was better not to ask. Something Gale was eternally grateful for. “It would be my pleasure, Astarion.” The warlock turned on his heel and began to lead the other two men out of the inn.

As Astarion and Gale trailed behind the other man Gale allowed himself to survey the city folk. Much to his dismay many seemed to either be in poverty or refugees.

“Gods, is the city always like this?” Gale questioned, drawing the attention of the nearby rogue.

“Afraid it has always been somewhat like this, as this is how lower cities usually are… though, I have to admit, it has become much worse since I was last here. I suspect the absolute takeover has something to do with that.”

Wyll cast a look back over his shoulder, “Yes, I was last here directly several or more years ago. I remember it much more fondly than this, but then again that may have just been the delusions of youth.”

Astarion fixed his cold gaze on Wyll, something about it accusatory. “Or maybe you only ever saw the upper city, as a grand-duke’s son.”

Wyll’s eyes widened before settling into a frown. “Astarion, I assure you I was not as sheltered as you believe me to be.”

Astarion scoffed, seeming to not quite believe that, but deciding it was better not to fight with Wyll while they were supposed to be shopping. He ran a pale hand through his stark white hair, looking towards Gale with a look of mild contempt. “Did Waterdeep have such an issue with poverty?”

Gale had to ponder that for a long moment. He did grow up more privileged than most; a nice house, always had enough food, even went to a prestigious school. “Yes, Waterdeep did struggle with poverty in certain areas. Though, might I add, not as severely as here, though I agree, much of that is caused by the cult of the absolute as well as the cult of Bhaal destroying families and livelihoods. Waterdeep never had so much of a problem with them.”

Astarion seemed appeased by that response, nodding as he watched people duck to avoid Wyll’s horns with amusement.

Gale sighed, his eyes once again trailing the city streets. Tracing the spire of Sorcerous Sundries, the place where he could get the missing peace to the powers of the Crown of Karsus.

Chapter 2: Masquerade

Summary:

Try not to get to close? Gale's not very good at that.

Gale drew in a soft breath as he did up the silver clasps to the purple waistcoat. Astarion had been fussing over the thing for an hour or two trying to get it to taper just right - something the vampire insisted he could do and wasn’t worth paying the shopkeep to do.

Astarion nodded satisfiedly, looking at Gale’s reflection in the mirror. The purple and white silks brightening his complexion.

The rogue smoothed down any remaining wrinkles in Gale’s white dress shirt before stepping away, a surprisingly vulnerable look in his red eyes.

“I cannot see my reflection - as I’m sure you’re aware - would you mind perhaps… telling me if I look good?” The vampire gestured to himself, the red and gold waistcoat, the black dress shirt. It would be a lie to say that the spawn hadn’t picked out colors that complimented him.

Gale nodded, reaching out to adjust his friend's collar. “You look great. Somehow without knowing what you actually look like you picked out colours that both bring out your eyes and your hair. I’m certain you will make many lords envious.”

Astarion smiled a tad, looking towards the wooden floor. “You don’t have to go as far as to tell me that.” A little mirth returned to the vampire's red eyes as he looked back up to Gale. “A simple, ‘I’d do you’ would have been satisfactory.”

Gale rolled his eyes, leaning towards the mirror the two stood in front of. Worried his beard may look too unkempt, even if he groomed it meticulously earlier. “Now Astarion, there is more to life than sex appeal. Take a beautiful soul, or a hunger for knowledge.”

Astarion groaned, slumping back against his mattress as he looked around the rest of the room at the others getting ready. Gale had regaled him many times on viewing himself as more than an object to be used, words that Astarion took to heart; however, it was difficult to break a habit of only seeing yourself that way.

Gale leaned away from the mirror again, deciding that he looked good enough for a noble ball. Besides, it was a masquerade, not much of his face would be seen most the night anyways. At least that would cover the purple scar of the orb leading to his eye.

Subconsciously, he looked in the mirror for his friend. However, he mentally facepalmed when he couldn’t find him and remembered that the rogue did not have a reflection.

“Astarion, I forgot to ask: Where did you learn to sew like that? Your skills are most impressive.” Gale turned to face the elf who was now relaxing on his bed.

The rogue seemed surprised at the question, though quickly recovered into a smirk. “Not sure, suppose it is one of my wondrous hidden talents from years gone by.” His red eyes darted away from Gale, and for a moment it seemed he was going to say something else. 

Instead, his eyes lit up as they fell upon their Tiefling companion. “Oh, Karlach! I can fix that fit in no time! We’ll be good to go right on schedule!” He sprung off of his mattress and headed over towards the woman, sewing supplies in hand.

Gale sighed, watching the vampire scurry away. He turned towards the mirror one last time to check himself before reaching to grab his mask off the mattress.

“You smell different.” Lae’Zels throaty voice spoke beside him, nearly causing him to leap out of his new clothes.

“Yes, well I hope that means more pleasant.” Gale said, rubbing the back of his neck. “First bath in a few weeks, and I splurged and bought a cologne while I was out too. Quite a nice one at that: frankincense and–”

Lae’Zel cut off his rambling abruptly, “Yes, I noticed. Is this one of the earth dwellers methods to find a mate perhaps? I noticed Astarion and Wyll smelling more fragrant as well. I read in one of the books we found on our travels male animals are more colourful and pomped to attract a mate, is that the same for men?”

Gale found himself blinking in surprise, unsure what part of her comment he should respond to first. “Well, I guess you could say people dress up nice to attract a mate - as you put it - but more commonly the women are more dressed up in our cultures.” He gestured loosely towards shadowheart in her black gemgown and hair crystals and then to Lae’Zel’s embroidered and jeweled pantsuit.

“I suppose you make a fair point.” Lae’Zel sniffed, observing herself. “The womens shops were much more impressive. Does that make us the superior sex then? If we are hailed as the ones attracting the mate like a male animal it only makes sense.”

Gale couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at that. “No, it just means that the average man prefers to look for an eye-candy of a woman when picking a mate. It’s purely to indulge men in their fantasies and ‘hold the eye longer’. Not that I believe that. People say men can be finicky and need something to keep them focused on one woman - but I think that is false.”

“Aren’t you a revolutionary thinker then.” Lae’Zel rolled her eyes at the wizard. “Let me guess, that means you prefer your woman in power?” She did not give Gale time to respond before she continued. “But tell me, what does this term ‘eye-candy’ mean? I am not familiar.”

Gale swallowed the flush on his cheeks from her comment about his woman being in control. “Eye-candy is just someone superficially beautiful. Someone who is physically or sexually attractive on the surface. Most times it goes no deeper than that though.”

Lae’Zel nodded in understanding, looking around the room. “Then I would be at liberty to say a lot of the women we have come across have turned out to be mere ‘eye-candy’.”

A smile cracks across Gale’s face at that, banishing any lingering embarrassment about the Gith’s earlier comment “Yes, yes you would be at liberty to make that comment. But trust me when I say ‘eye-candy’ is not limited to gender, though it is mainly used towards women.”

Lae’Zel seemed even more satisfied at that, cocking her head up some at the taller man. “I rather enjoy your regaling me with new words and insults to hurl. Though your teaching me of what a cat is was also rather informative and the graphic quite helpful.”

Gale laughed some, remembering the cartoon cat he drew in the dirt one night around the fire for Lae’Zel. He was too spent to conjure an image for her so she had to deal with his less than ideal drawing capabilities. Though, she seemed to get the picture, pointing out the next cat she saw by name.

Lae’Zel reached up, gently slapping Gale on the cheek in a sister-like gesture. “Well, for your sake I hope your colourful clothing and fragrant scent attracts a piece of eye-candy that is also soul-candy. Gods know how bad you need a night of revelry.”

Gale raised his eyebrows in surprise at her unusually kind prospect of romance for him. Quickly it was replaced by a frown when she continued to mention how badly he needed a night to release his inhibitions. Did everyone at camp suddenly know how needy he’d been since showing up here? That was not an exactly comforting idea.

The Gith turned on her heel, strutting away towards the door leading out of the large room, as if oblivious to her friend's displeasure. Likely, she was planning on getting slightly tipsy even before showing up to the ball.

 

---

 

The ball was grand and blown way out of proportion. Lively music by a band of bards, noble men and women dressed in the most pompous and intricate clothing. A table of bountiful cakes and pastries. Crystal decor. Gortash had wasted no expenses on it.

Karlach sat by the food, seething as she stuffed cake after cake into her mouth. Wyll sitting by her, petting her shoulder in a placating manner. No doubt after Karlach had eaten her fill Wyll would try and get her to dance to keep her mind off Gortash who was flitting around making nice to the nobility.

Gale craned his neck, following Gortash’s path of movement through the hall. Waiting for him to come to him. However, secretly Gale was trying to spot Gortash’s minx, she was no doubt near her fiance. Gale would never admit that though, not even to himself.

Nearby Gale, Astarion was playing cock of the walk. Flirting and making nice with everyone. Clearly the better of the rest of the party at finding and making allies of the nobles of Baldur’s Gate.

“The minx is surprisingly scarce.” Someone near Gale remarked and he whipped his head around to look at him. It was a middle aged man, just starting to bald. A peacock mask on his face and a royal blue ruffled suit so match it.

“Yes,” Gale agreed hesitantly, injecting himself into the conversation between the peacock man and another man dressed in the colours of a fox. “Do you have any ideas where she could be?”

The fox man snorted, swirling his drink and looking from Gale to his peacock friend. “Look at that, another young man wooed into that blasted fallen angel's charms. Trust me boy, if you’re looking for her, forget her.”

“Oh leave him alone.” Peacock snipped at his friend. He then looked back to Gale, a pleasant smile on his face. “Do not listen about what he says of the Lady, she is a fine young woman, though too pretty for her own good. Gortash is the luckiest man alive to have a woman like her under his arm and in his bed every night. Why, I’m getting up in years and I think I could still put out for her.”

Gale’s cheeks flushed at his last statement. “I am just looking for her because I am looking to enter a business deal of sorts with her fiance and I believe she may be the easiest means to get to him. I have no intentions on ‘putting out’ for her. She is engaged.”

Peacock took a long sip of his drink, his cheeks flushing with drunk and horny glee. “Oh she may be engaged but Gortash has a standing challenge! Any man who thinks he could be able to get his minx in bed is free to try! And a man like you, why you look like her type, you may be able to get it and tell me all about it! All the details, colour, taste, grip str-”

Fox slapped his friend's arm, silencing him. “Do not speak such vulgar of the Lady and of a man we have barely met. He had already said he has no intentions on bedding her, you should not be pressuring him.” The man then looked at Gale, appearing more earnest. “But if you do want to bed her I advise against it, she may be a minx, but she is also called the fallen angel by some for a reason. Men who get closest to bedding her have a tendency to go missing.”

Gale swallowed hard an unease filling him.  “Yes, I will keep that in mind.” Maybe he really should try and nip his dirty daydreams in the butt and go back to having them about Mystra.

Fox man nodded a tad. “The Lady and Daughter of Radiance is tainted. Not many know and less will admit it, but she is not what she seems. She is the fallen angel. An enchantress. One that only Gortash can tame.” His voice was hushed and cautionary, speaking to Gale alone as his friend soothed his wounded ego with more liquor.

“I understand.” Gale murmured, his gut twisting painfully. He had wanted to get Joan as an ally, save her from Gortash and free her from the tadpole as well. But now, he wasn’t quite certain if Joan was one to be saved. “Thank you for telling me even though I had no intentions,” A blatant lie, “I will be sure to tell my friends who may just make an attempt.”

The fox nodded, looking around suspiciously as if he was worried they may have been overheard. “Yes, do that. I’d hate to see another young person vanish after following her out.”

Gale felt as though he may be sick as he turned away from the two men. Yes, the fox may have been lying to him, trying to scare him, or trying to get Gale off of a mark he had made. However, something about the seriousness in his voice, and the look in his eye under the mask, urged Gale that he was telling the truth. The woman he was beating it to a few hours earlier may just be a killer, a fallen angel.

He swallowed a large mouthful of wine as he made his way towards Astarion who was still chatting it up. Seeming to revel in the attention.

When the elf spotted his blanched friend approaching he quickly excused himself from the conversation, beginning to stride across the room to meet him halfway.

“My, what has got you looking like the life’s been drained out of you?” Astarion asked, catching Gale’s arm. A lit of concern under the vampire's mask as he looked at his friend. Rarely did he see Gale appearing so defeated and scared - the only other time when Elminster told him he had to sacrifice himself for Mystra.

Gale swallowed another mouthful of wine, trying to calm his nerves with drunkenness. How could someone so beautiful and kind looking be a murderer? Absolutist he could see, simply by proxy of who she was engaged to, but not someone who killed men she lured into bed. And to think a few hours ago he would have done anything to have her beneath him.

“Nothing.” Gale finally said, forcing a smile to his lips. “I just ate a bad pastry is all. Upset the sensitive gut biome that is my stomach.” If it did come down to Astarion trying to bed Joan, Gale would simply shut it down; no sense in panicking the elf as well.

Astarion frowned, knowing Gale was lying but choosing not to pry - at least not directly. Gale always lied for a reason, sometimes foolish ones but there was always a reason.

“Well then, I’ll be sure to avoid the pastries then.” The vampire remarked dryly, knowing the wizard knew the only two things he ate was blood and wine.

Gale nodded, licking his dry lips as he once again surveyed the crowd of people from under his mask. The women in fancy dresses and elaborate hairstyles, the men in colourful suits, spinning their dance partners around.

“It’s a sight to behold, is it not?” Wyll sighed as he came up beside the other two men, his arms tucked behind his back.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching your fiery lady-friend?” Astarion drawled, looking over his shoulder at the half-demon.

Wyll chuckled, shaking his head. “Lae’Zel offered to take her out into the courtside garden, said all of the smells of the perfume hurt her head. So, here I am, spending time with you two once again, at least for the time being.”

“We’re glad to have you, the more the merrier.” Gale interjected before Astarion could spit out another tease. “Besides, now we look more like we should be here because people recognize you.”

“Aye, that they do.” Wyll agreed, “It seems seven years away and being made into a demon does not change my face so much that people can’t recognize me. I’m unsure if I should be flattered by that or disappointed that my face has changed so remarkably little since I was seventeen.”

“Try having the same face for a couple centuries.” Astarion said, as if it was a bad thing. The two human men however, could not see that as bad, if they could live a few centuries like the elf they wouldn’t want to age rapidly, they’d want to keep their face in their prime.

“You say that as though that is a tragedy.” Gale said, taking another slow sip of his wine. “Maybe it is just the human in me being jealous of your lifespan, but I would love to be able to live for centuries having not aged.”

“I think that’s more wizard than human.” Wyll teased lightly. “I am more than happy to live what I have to the fullest. Wizards however? You lot are always looking for power and ways to extend your lives so you can get more.” 

Gale scowled half-mockingly. “That is not all we care about. I myself find myself caring quite a fair amount about my cat, a good book, and a glass of wine.”

Astarion groaned. “That is the other part, the things wizards care for other than power and long life are things so terribly mundane they can put me to sleep. And elves don’t even sleep!”

“Good gods. Is this pick on your resident wizard night or something? Did I not pick up on that fine-print on the invitation?” Gale ran a hand against his jaw, a little bit frustrated over the fact the two other men were ganging up on him over stereotypes, even if they were true.

“Every night is pick on your resident wizard night if I want it to be.” Astarion laughed, holding out his wine goblet for the butler passing by to refill again.

Wyll snorted a half agreement, waving a hand to the waiter when he offered to refill his glass as well. “In all seriousness Gale we’re just teasing - or at least I am. For every thing to tease you about there is plenty more to tease me - you got your power through studying, I just made a deal with a bloody devil.”

“Yes, but you don’t necessarily fit the stereotype, no?” Gale said, cocking his head to Wyll. “You did not make the pact for power or ambition, but to save your people. That is not the typical warlock tale. You have effectively moved most teasing aspects from your class.”

“Aye… I suppose you make a fair point as always Gale.” Wyll consided, tilting his glass to the wizard. “I am not your typical warlock, but you are not the typical wizard either.”

Astarion rolled his red eyes. “Okay you two spellcasters, go get a room if you want to blow each other's cocks like that.”

Both Gale and Wyll scowled at the vampire's remark.

“I’m afraid that will not be happening because Wyll will just end up too intimidated by it and it will make for a really awkward last part of our quest. I am a rather large man.” Gale said blatantly without thinking. He only thought back on what he said when he noticed both men staring at him in shock, not used to the gentlemanly wizard talking that way - even if it wasn’t directly explicit.

Astarion choked out a laugh, wiping a hand down his face and mask. “Somehow I doubt that. Wizards are not exactly known for their bedroom affairs or their large cocks. In fact I once read that the search for magic power is to compensate for how small they are!”

Gale’s ears flushed, both embarrassed and bothered at the elf’s remark. “I assure you that is not true for all wizards, Astarion.” He licked his lips. “And you bloody well saw… well you saw earlier! You know it’s not little!” He hissed at the vampire, hoping a still shocked Wyll wasn’t listening.

Astarion smirked and raised his white eyebrows. “Did I? I’m not sure if I got a clear enough picture of it, you should show me more clear proof.”

Gale groaned, throwing his hands up in the air in annoyance and taking a few steps away. The thought crossed his mind that maybe it was a mistake coming here not because of Gortash, but because of his own friends.

“Well that was a part of Gale I didn’t know existed.” Wyll finally spoke, still dumbfounded.

“Yes, but I’m sure his dirty talk is as indirect as that foolish statement he made was.” Astarion teased again, sipping at his wine.

“I’ll have you know all of the women I’ve been with love a man who talks romantically and everything to them!” Gale defended himself, subconsciously adjusting his tie nervously.

“And the women are Mystra and your hand: no?”

“I slept with another woman once before Mystra!” Gale rubbed his neck. “And I kissed a girl at the bar who also loved how I talked to her, she just had to leave before I could take her home!”

Wyll cleared his throat, coming to the wizard's aid. “Well, he’s doing better than me, Astarion. Not all of us have body counts around the block. Some of us like something a little more secure before getting it on.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, “All I’m saying is that Gale, and you as well in fact, are sorely lacking the experience to know if women really do love what you do.”

“The women we care or cared about liked it and that’s all that mattered to us.” Wyll shrugged, clearly not taking it as meanly as Gale was. Wyll was secure in his relationships and that he wanted to wait until the wedding bed if possible.

Gale didn’t know why he was so upset about it. Though a lingering feeling told him it was because he never felt good enough for Mystra, let alone any other woman. Mystra, as much as she enjoyed having him, sometimes it was like he could never do enough. He didn’t know why he thought he could ever do enough for the minx.

Wyll gently nudged the wizard beside him, drawing him out of his head and back into the conversation that had continued without him. The warlock gave him a soft concerned look, Gale’s sudden silence and the faraway look in his eyes not lost on him.

Gale smiled weakly at his friend, rubbing the back of his neck. His thoughts a maelstrom of self deprecation. How could he even imagine a woman like Joan would enjoy him, she was beautiful and perfect and he was an inexperienced fool who talked too much.

“Sorry, I got a little distracted there.” Gale said lamely, feeling as though his chest was weighed down by a heavy boulder in the ocean.

“We could tell.” Astarion responded, looking over his shoulder and around the room again. If he knew Gale was feeling down he was desperately pretending he didn’t.

Wyll gently bumped shoulders with the wizard, a warm smile on his face. “Don’t listen to any bullshit he spews, he's just insecure about the fact he’s slept around so much and takes it out on us who have had real love.”

The look Astarion shot Wyll was enough to make the warlock drop dead in front of him. “I have had ‘real love’. It was just too much of a hassle keeping them happy and satisfied all the time as well as myself. It is much easier to simply make it a one time good time for both parties.”

Wyll huffed, “I’m surprised you can still find a new person to bed you at this point. All those ‘good times’ must have left the pool quite slim after how long you’ve been alive.”

Astarion curled his lip at the other man, clearly displeased, though he said no more - indicating that Wyll had one this time. The vampire turned away, sipping from his wine goblet as he glowered in defeat.

Wyll smiled, nudging Gale with his elbow. “Looks like someone is a sore loser, eh?”

Gale couldn’t help but crack a smile at Wyll’s final triumphant comment. “Yes, but we knew that already, did we not? Astarion has never been gracious about anything that involves him with the shorter end of the stick.”

“Maybe we should engage in the likes of boyhood and have a length competition, I’m sure both you and I have him out matched there as well! That might just be the final nail in the coffin for our undead companion.”

Gale looked over at Wyll, a little surprised by his remark before laughing. “That is one part of boyhood I luckily did not participate in. I don’t know if younger me could have emotionally handled being the subject of childhood ridicule over something I can not control.” Gale hesitated, mulling over Wyll’s comment once more. “Do you truly think that you and I have the elf out measured?”

Wyll smiled wryly and boyishly, reminding Gale yet again that Wyll was not yet twenty-five. “Well, Astarion made a jab at you and your potential lack due to wizardry; however, elves aren’t known for their impressive peckers either. I’d wager even more so than human wizards.”

Gale sighed, teasingly rolling his eyes at the warlock. “You make a compelling argument my friend. However, I doubt either of us want to be wrong about this hunch you have, I doubt either of us can handle that blow to our egos - especially with how much it would boost his.”

“Aye, you make a good point.” Wyll agreed, sipping from his wine with a smile. “I enjoy our conversations, Gale; those around the campfire, those on the road, and now even here at this grand ball.”

Gale couldn’t help but smile at that, a little bashful at the compliment. “That means a lot to me, actually. Especially with Astarion finding much glee in making fun of me at almost every opportunity.”

Wyll eyed the vampire who still sulked a few feet away. “I think he just enjoys making fun of everyone, it just so happens you are an easy target in his mind.”

Gale sighed an agreement, running a slightly nervous hand through his hair as he looked around the crowded room once more. He was no stranger to balls; in Waterdeep he attended many while he was arch-mage. However, now that he had been away from it all for over a year and made horribly insecure and nervous about his condition, he felt awkward surrounded by it all.

“Joan Lebedev? Gods, it's been so long since I’ve seen you!” Wyll’s voice startled Gale out of his thoughts, his head swinging to follow Wyll’s gaze to the minx who seemed to appear out of thin air nearby the three men.

Gale’s blood turned to ice in his veins, though not without a hint of desire. The woman he had been wanting and dreading to appear finally made herself known. He just hoped that none of his friends would make the mistake of being wooed by her call.

Joan looked back over her shoulder, her eyebrows raising in surprise as she spotted Wyll. “Wyll Ravenguard, I heard rumours.” She approached the three men, who’s eyes were all locked on her now. “You look well; though albeit more tired and… demonic… than the seventeen-year old who used to hang out with Gortash, my brother and I.”

Wyll smiled bashfully. “And you look as though you have not aged a day since I saw you. You look radiant, as always.”

“Wyll, you know this fine piece?” Astarion mused, gawking at the white crystals in her hair and the dress she was wearing.

“Know her?” Wyll laughed, taking Joan’s hand to kiss it in the fashion of a gentleman. “I used to hang around Joan all the time before I was banished.” He raised his eyes to meet Joan’s. “I’m honestly shocked you didn’t yell at me to piss off, you and your friends were much older than I was at the time.”

Joan smiled some, appearing in much better spirits than when Gale had seen her earlier. “You were a fine young man. And by all accounts everyone I hung out with was in young enough spirits to humour a boy such as yourself.”

Wyll gestured to the other two men. “Joan, this is Gale and Astarion. Guys, this is Joan Lebedev, Grand Duke Lebedev’s daughter and an old friend of mine.”

Joan gazed over to Gale, her eyes taking on a strange note of softness for the briefest moment. “Gale and I met earlier at Gortash’s inauguration.” She looked back over her shoulder to Astarion, the look in her eyes vanishing. “But you? I am pleased to meet you, Astarion.” She inclined her head to the vampire. 

Astarion surveyed her like she was something offered up on a platter for him. Gale could feel his stomach churn from it.

“So, you were at Gortash’s inauguration; I presume you two are at least still close then?” Wyll questioned, wanting to catch up.

“Engaged.” Gale interjected before Joan could even open her mouth, a little more hostility in his tone than he had meant. “They’re engaged.”

Wyll blinked in shock, his gaze swooping from Gale to Joan.

“Yes, yes we are.” Joan agreed, looking to Gale, a certain level of displeasure in her pale blue eyes. She then looked back to Wyll with a pleasant smile. “For a few months now. We are planning our wedding for a few weeks from now; if you’d like to attend Wyll I’m sure you’d be more than welcome.”

“That is very kind of you.” Wyll said gracious of the invite. Though evidently hesitant, seeing as the man she was to marry was their enemy.

“Going to get tied down to the ol’ ball and chain. I pity you, you seem like a fun girl.” Astarion sighed, swirling his drink around in the cup.

“And you seem like the type to show a girl like me a fun time.” Joan responded in kind, gazing over at Astarion through her eyelashes. Gale could feel his throat tighten, both in jealousy and fear.

Astarion grinned, his vampire teeth on full display. “Oh, I like you. And trust me darling, I wouldn’t be opposed to being your last hurrah as a free woman.”

“Then I know who to call.” She sipped at her wine a little, a hand reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair off of her forehead, her fingertips ruffling the swan feathers of her mask. 

She glanced back up at Wyll from under her mask. “It would be inconsiderate of me to ask what you have been up to these past few years, as I know. It would also be inconsiderate of me to ask what brings you back to the city. Forgive me, but I seem to be at a loss of topics to speak on.”

“As am I.” Wyll admitted, unwilling to even propose the idea of Gortash’s actions. He did not want to spoil the memory of a woman he was once close to by finding out about her true intentions.

Joan shifted some on her feet, adjusting her white dress some on her waist. The tension in the air palpable. “I am sorry for what Gortash did to your father. If it is any aid at all he has sent him to the iron throne, you can get there through a warehouse on the docks.” Her voice was hushed as she spoke, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was overhearing.

Wyll’s eyebrows raised and he looked over to Gale then to Astarion. “Oh. I was told he was sent to the Iron Throne but I didn’t know how to find it. He is still alive then I take it?” His eyes betrayed concern, Mizora’s deal ringing in his head that he had doomed his father for his own life.

“Last I saw of him a few hours ago he was alive and well. The guards are ordered to watch him, he is very high profile.” Joan brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “I would not recommend going after him, doing such would cause a catastrophe of epic proportions, and not just for you. I wish only to give you some piece of mind that he is secure.” She paused. “I will alert you if that changes in any way.”

Wyll blinked, stunned at the sudden kindness of a woman who was supposedly on the opposite side if the man she was looking to marry was any indicator. Maybe she was the woman he once knew deep down. “I… Thank you, that means a lot to me that you would look out for my father that way.”

“I look out for what matters.” She said, turning away on her heel, her figure vanishing among the nobles as she searched for her fiance.

“Oh yeah.” Astarion said with a grin, watching her leave. “That girl is a stone cold predator. It’s always the pretty ones, you know?”

Wyll shot Astarion a look, “And how are you so sure of that?”

“Because I was one too. The way she moves, the oozing sensuality, her defensive nature. Almost like a cat. She is Gortash’s wolf dressed like a little lamb.”

“Are you comparing Gortash to Cazador?” Gale interjected, a small flicker that the comparison may lead to the revelation Joan was also being used like Astarion was.

The vampire remained silent for a long moment, watching Joan as she reappeared beside Gortash. The man’s hand snaked around her hip as he leaned in to kiss the cuff of her ear and whisper.

“No, there is a certain level of care in which they regard each other, something you can not fake. He does not simply see her as his tool. Potentially he sees her as his property and something to give him leverage, but he also likely loves her in a twisted sense. But one thing is clear in how she acts, she is out for her first.”

Gale raised an eyebrow at Astarion, displeased that the object of his desires was not likely someone to be simply saved. A certain part of him admittedly felt guilty about it - if Gortash did indeed see his as his property, was he behaving any differently about her? Seeing her as property to take ownership of once he got Gortash out of the way?

Wyll sighed, “Regardless of who she is out for, it was a great kindness for her to do that about my father, something she did not have to do.”

“Do not let it cloud your judgment.” Astarion sighed, sipping his wine, dropping the three men into silence once again. “I think I should try to woo her, taste of her own sensual manipulations; she is not the only one who can play that game - and I am the one who has been playing longer.” 

“Ah, Wyll Ravenguard.” Gortash said with a brilliant smile, interrupting the conversation as he approached. “I was rather disappointed when you decided to leave immediately after my inauguration, but luckily you decided to come tonight.” He reached out and shook Wyll’s hand.

Astarion crossed his arms over his chest, sizing up Gortash as well as taking note that Joan had vanished from his side.

Wyll smiled tensely. “I apologize, my old friend, I had to leave to make sure we got a room at the inn.” He paused, regarding the other man for a moment. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

Gortash waved his hand dismissively, “Oh of course, in about a month from now, Joan will be in a stunning dress, the usual. I may invite you all to it if we are able to work together to slaughter Orin.”

Gale could feel his stomach churn with jealousy. Silently watching Gortash’s casual and cocky demeanor over having the most beautiful woman he had laid eyes on.

“Should we assume there will be tyrants conceived immediately after the wedding?” Astarion spoke coolly, his eyes searching for Joan who had seemed to vanish once again. “Will we be so fortunate as to be able to see that as well?”

“There will be no children, not until what is needed is done. Until then my minx will remain on the herbal drink she is taking to prevent it.” Gortash responded levelly, though his dark eyes met Gale’s with a knowing look. A look that screamed a challenge.

“I’m shocked you do not wish to spread your empire as soon as you can with your wife-to-be.” Gale spoke tensely, something both Wyll and Astarion picked up on. “Everyone says she is a fine factor for genetics and you do not know how long you will have before an assassination is attempted and she is taken by another.”

Gortash’s lips curled into a crooked smile as he gazed at Gale, “You underestimate Joan if you think she’d let any old assassin ‘take her’.” He took a long drink of his wine. “Any assassin that comes is likely a weak man in her eyes. Strong men want her and can have her, weak men fear her and feel her bite.” He leaned in close to Gale, “I wonder what one you are, Wizard of Waterdeep.”

Gale regarded Gortash coldly as the other man leaned away from him with a satisfied smirk.

“Children will only come to me once my empire is assured. I wish not to get excited and then have the fall of Zariel from the heavens happen to me.” Gortash hesitated after he said that, seeming to realize he told the three other men he was considering the possibility of failure. “Not that that will happen, it is simply a peace of mind to my lovely lady.”

Joan reappeared next to Gortash then, her hand brushing against the small of his back. She glanced at Astarion and winked flirtatiously before motioning for her fiance to lean down to her.

Gortash grinned as Joan murmured in his ear.

“Oh, aren’t you a crafty one! Naughty girl, naughty naughty.” Gortash spoke loud enough so the other men could hear him. “But you know just how to get the job done, you minx.”

Joan leaned back from him, a satisfied smile on her lips - a smile that reminded Gale of a cat in the best possible way. Joans fingers drummed on Gortash’s chest as she looked over to the other men, watching them coyly.

Gale swallowed thickly, breaking eye contact with the woman and mumbling something about going to get another drink. His feet practically dragged on the tile floor as he left the small group.

Joan was dangerous. Not just in general - something he didn’t doubt - but also to him in particular. And he had a feeling she knew she was. She knew she made him feel weak and hot with need; and likely Astarion, Wyll and Gortash all knew that now too with how he behaved about her.

After only a moment's thought Gale came to the realization that Gortash likely knew about his poorly hidden feelings for his fiancee and was looking to use her as leverage against him. She was most probably to seduce and convince him into doing what Gortash asked. And if she wasn’t going to be used in that way she would be used as a negotiation tactic: do what Gortash wanted and he’d get to touch her, and so on.

“Weave save me…” Gale murmured, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he finally reached the refill station for the wine. A servant quickly fetched the wine he wanted and topped up his glass for him once again.

If only Joan had never been here, then he might yet have a chance at fulfilling what needed to be done. Or better yet, if she was not so deeply intertwined with the Absolute and he could do what had to be done as well as have her. Surviving the Netherbrain and then returning back to her sounded like a fine life; or even better, returning to her with the crown of Karsus to give them godhood.

He took a long sip of the wine, the sharp taste of it shocking his senses momentarily.

It would be better if he dove himself head first back into the embrace of Mystra. To obsess over her once again. To yearn for her. Make him untouchable to the mortal woman’s charms like she did before.

Quite frankly, he was still holding out a bitter hope that what he felt for Joan was a simple crush. Something that cropped up because she was the first pretty woman he had seen that wasn’t the ones he’d be travelling with for months and had no interest in. He had only known Joan for all of today, it wasn’t anything lasting - as long as it wasn’t a smitten at first sight matter.

Gale cast his gaze over in the direction of the others. Gortash had made his way back across the room again, yet Joan remained with Wyll and Astarion.

His eyes traced the slope of her narrow body in a way that was almost reverent. His mother always told him he had a tendency to fall hard and fast. Even if he was more of the inclination to want a relationship or bond before things got serious. Sadly, most of the bonds he formed ended up more or less one-sided, with him always the one loving more.

He subconsciously rested his hand against the orb under his shirt, feeling both the rhythmic thump of his heart as well as the thrum of the barely contained magic under his skin.

I wonder which one you will be, Wizard of Waterdeep.

Gortash’s words echoed in his mind. Not just from the standing of Joan but from a general standpoint. Was he a strong man? He was certainly gifted and a powerful man; if he and Gortash had met a year or more before Gale would have crushed Gortash under the heel of his Archmage shoes. Now though? Now he was simply a gifted wizard who hummed with the poisoned blood of Karsus. Whether that made him strong or not was another thought entirely.

A few women nearby tittered, drawing his attention off of his friends to them. The women were dressed up in sunny spring colours, giggling back and forth about the men at the ball and who impressed them the most. One of them made eye contact with Gale from under her mask and fluttered her fan at him.

Quickly, Gale looked away back to Joan. Though, not without a pink tinge to his ears at the clear compliment the woman paid him.

“The dancing will start shortly, would you join me?” The woman from before piped up from beside him now.

Gale blinked in surprise, looking down at her. “I… I don’t think I should. You should go ask another man, one that can dance much better than I can as well as-”

“I’ll guide you through the steps!” The woman interjected, taking one of his hands and tugging him out onto the floor with a bunch of others who were beginning to dance. Behind him he could hear the tittering laughter of the girl's friends.

“You seem like a very sweet young woman.” Gale began to speak as she guided his hands to her body and began a simple waltz. “But I am afraid that I am…” He hesitated, unsure what to say. “I am spoken for.” Not a complete lie.

The woman looked around the ballroom. “Spoken for yet no one has come up to claim you? Are you sure you are just not trying to tell me you don’t find me pretty?”

Gale opened and closed his mouth, completely dumbstruck that she would suggest something of that nature. He had never even implied something of the such. “No, I never said that. You are a very pretty woman, I can assure you of that. I simply do not feel like dancing and I have my sights set on another. I apologize, but it would be cruel of me to entertain you to have it go nowhere. Would it not?”

The woman frowned. “Who said about it going anywhere? I just want a little dance, and you seem like the type to let it be nothing but a dance.”

“That…” Gale swallowed hard. “That I am. I will give you that much.”

The woman’s face lit up, though all he could see was Joan’s eyes staring at him from behind her head. A near judgmental look in her pale eyes.

Gale and this woman danced back and forth across the ballroom, with the wizard tripping over his own feet more times than he cared to count.

“I apologize, I used to be a bit better at this. It seems my time away from the ballroom has weakened my abilities.”

The woman shrugged, her brown eyes dancing with mischief. “That’s quite alright, I haven’t been dancing in awhile either.” She looked back to where her friends stood watching. “And if I am completely honest I did this because my friends told me there was no way I could convince you, an attractive man, to dance with me - not that I don’t like you! I am just less forward typically.”

Gale’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “Oh, well that is actually quite reassuring! I was worried I may have to break your heart after this. Good to know this was a dare to get the ‘attractive man’ to dance and not an actual move on me.”

The woman laughed as well, the pair stumbling some as Gale stepped wrong again.

“I am certain your friends find me much less attractive after seeing me dance. I am like a unicorn with all left hooves.” Gale chuckled, pushing a strand of his hair back off his forehead.

“A unicorn may just be overselling yourself.” The woman responded, a lit of gentle teasing in her voice as she nudged Gale’s foot into proper position again.

Gale scoffed softly, rolling his eyes at the remark. “Yes, maybe an ogre after having too much to drink sells my situation much better.” To be truthful, Gale had drunk much more than he had originally intended to.

The group of bard’s played a lively gig that was forcing all those dancing to spin quicker and quicker between each other. Gale just prayed he didn’t send him or his dance partner sailing into one of the other groups. That would certainly not get him on Gortash’s good side.

Momentarily Gale let his eyes sweep over the crowd of people not dancing. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Joan and Astarion, now without Wyll. Her hand seemed to be on his chest.

Gale could feel his stomach drop. The idiot was really going to go for it, he was going to try and get the upper hand on Joan by seducing her into sex first. What Astarion didn’t know though, was that Joan would likely murder him before he even got his pants off.

Everytime he spun back around he searched for the two, and everytime they were together - and painfully close. Inspiring both jealousy and terror in the wizard. 

He couldn’t even hear what the woman he was dancing with was saying anymore, just nodding along to keep her talking.

Joan nipped the tip of Astarion’s ear and Gale could swear he could see her eyes flick over to him - as if trying to assure he was watching her.

Another couple spins. Now Joan was guiding the vampire by the hand. Another spin. She was nudging open the ballroom door. Another. The pair was gone.

“I have to go.” Gale announced, stopping abruptly and shocking the woman. He began to stride off after the pair, but not after calling a rushed apology over his shoulder to the shell shocked woman.

His feet echoed in the quiet halls of the foyer pursuing his friend. He wasn’t entirely certain what he was going to do to stop it, but he knew he had to do something lest the rogue end up another tally on her kill counter.

He should have told Astarion. He trusted in the off chance that this exact situation would not happen, and yet it had happened. The vampire knew she was a predator, but he did not know that that was literal and not just in an enchantress way.

No, he could not let Astarion’s blood soak Joan’s hands. For the sake of everyone. Astarion, himself and the guilt, and even Joan. Last thing Gale wanted was the full wrath of the party crashing down upon her.

However, Gale had initially thought her to be more clever than she seemed to be right now. This seemed too obvious, too uncalculated. Almost if she had wanted Gale to know about it.

A double homicide? Gale's stomach churned at that. Maybe he was playing right into whatever she had originally had planned. Killing two birds with one simple seduction. Killing them with their love.

“God’s Astarion… where could she have taken you?” Gale mumbled to himself, peering down every intersection of a hallway he came to. He was not that far behind the pair to have lost them so hard. The only solstice being that if he couldn’t find them it was not planned to be a double homicide at all.

“Well darling, lets just say… I have a thirst for blood.” Astarion’s voice came muffled, as if he was many rooms over in the dead silent foyer.

Gale’s heart leapt into his throat and for the first time he found himself hoping the vampire would not shut his mouth. To keep blabbering away with his foul nonchalant pickup lines until Gale could pinpoint where he had been taken.

Luckily, the elf did what he did best and kept trying to elude that he was a vampire as a method of seduction. There had been enough people so far who were head over heels for a vampire that Astarion now tried to use it on every person who he thought might even have an inkling of a vampire fetish. For some reason he assumed that Joan just might be one.

Finally Gale’s eyes landed on Joan and Astarion. The two in one of the hallways, surprisingly not far from the ball; Gale had just made a wrong turn originally.

Joan leaned against the cobblestone wall, looking up at the vampire with what Gale could only presume was innocent eyes. Playing dumb and getting Astarion to draw it out. The elf’s hands were on her hips, doing that signature tilt of his head he did when he was trying to be sexy. Something Wyll lovingly referred to as: showing off the jawline.

Joan cocked her head at the vampire, reaching out to tap his chest. “Well, I’m sure Gortash will be mighty interested in your thirst and prowess. Why don’t you give me a demonstration so I can report back?” She purred, tilting her head back to rest on the wall.

“Oh darling, I would love nothing more.” Astarion responded, brushing a hand over her hip bone over the dress.

“That will not be happening!” Gale announced, eyes giving Astarion a warning glare as he continued to approach the two.

Astarion scowled, his hands dropping off the woman in front of him. “Way to be a fucking cockblock. I wouldn’t do that to you if you were finally about to get some.”

Gale met Asterion's eyes, shouldering him further away from Joan. “Yes, you would.” Gale responded coldly, looking down to Joan who still seemed to be feigning innocence.

Astarion shouldered the wizard back. “Just because you saw her first doesn’t mean you get her.” The vampire gave Gale a look. A look that spoke that the rogue knew what he was doing - or at least he thought he knew.

Joan’s pale eyes darted between the two men under her swan mask. “Astarion, I thought you told me that you were the one in control of the party, Gale was just the face. Yet, here we stand with you taking orders from your wizard.”

The elf visibly deflated for a moment at that, giving Gale another venomous look. “Darling-”

“I am the one in control.” Gale interrupted, his tone almost pleading that Joan take him before the elf. If anyone should die by her hand it may as well be the one knowing what they walked into. “Astarion, he pretends to be in control in some situations where he thinks I may need it. I am sure now is not one of those times. However, I do wonder what you want with those who are in control.”

Joan met his eyes, and momentarily they betrayed something: That this was her plan all along. To lure Gale out with Astarion. She had known Gale would follow behind, looking to save his friend.

“Hm, I suppose that makes sense.” She tilted her head back some, looking up to the glimmering chandelier, the light reflecting in her eyes and the crystals on her dress and in her hair. “Then I suppose it is you I should be pulling along to discuss on my darlings orders?” Her gaze drifted back down to Gale.

Gale could feel a lump in his throat, both at his foolishness for running right into it and at the look in her eyes at that moment. “Yes.” He finally breathed, “Yes, it would be me you would want to communicate with; not Astarion.”

Astarion’s eyes narrowed, as he looked at Gale. “I’ve got this. I will handle it for you.” An almost pleading tone to his voice, as if he was also sensing the threat in the air. “You return to the dance, have some drink and food.”

Gale held up his hand to the vampire. “I am the head of his group. I will be the one to handle this. If anyone should be talking to Gortash’s little spy about our assets, it is me.” He looked Astarion in the eyes, mouthing a please to the other man.

Astarion swallowed hard but relented. His voice still echoed in Gale’s head from the parasite connection. You better know what you are getting yourself into . With that the elf took one last look at Joan before slipping back off down the hallway in the direction of the ballroom yet again.

Joan’s lips quirked up in a smile, an almost girlish one at that. “Gortash will be quite glad I managed to snag you, after all you were the one he actually wanted me to speak with.” She pushed herself off the wall with a soft huff. “Come now.”

The wizard hesitated only a moment before trailing along behind her. The tightness in his chest made it difficult for him to breathe. By all accounts, he could smite the woman in front of him down while her back was turned and gain the upperhand, and possibly not endanger his life at all. He did not want to do that however. If he could somehow avoid killing the woman in front of him that was how he wanted it to end.

A small glint caught his attention, his eyes darting down to the side of the woman in front of him. Something had glinted along her side. Something metallic. It could have just been chance and how the light hit one of her adorning decor, but he doubted that.

Gale set his jaw, taking a deep breath before grabbing Joan’s shoulder and shoving her into the wall. Crowding her with his body. The cold feel of steel touching the pulsing artery in his neck. A knife, she did have a weapon. Momentarily, Gale considered grabbing her daggered hand and forcing it away, but ultimately he decided that she could drive the knife into his neck faster than he could pull it away.

“My, My… I didn’t know you to be impatient. The things you learn when you get someone alone.” Joan tutted, her tone displaying confidence; but her eyes gave way to surprise, not anticipating the action.

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Gale growled, his chest labouring with adrenaline from all the possibilities racing his head. “You have a dagger to my throat. Do not play dumb with me!”

Joan smiled a little, her chest heaving as well. “With you? Never. I could never play dumb with a man as intelligent as you. You likely know my every move before I can even make it.” The steel pressed a little firmer into his neck, a threat as well as a promise to draw this out.

Gale swallowed hard. His face in such close proximity to hers. He could smell the floral of her perfume as well as the underlying scent of her skin, a warm rich smell. Pheromonal almost. “You are trying to flatter me.” He spoke levely once he got his wits back. “But I will not be swayed so easily by your fruitless words you little deceiver. If you do not take his knife away from my throat I will have you obliterated with just a word.”

Joan tilted her head up in challenge, a devious smirk on her lips. “Then do it. Prove to me that you possess such great power within you that you can decimate me with nothing but a simple word from your lips. Triumph today, but lose ground tomorrow.” Her blade gently skimmed down the side of his neck to his Adam's apple, leaving a faint line of blood in the surface cut.

Gale’s mind blanked at her action, staring at her with increasing levels of desire. The thrill in his veins skyrocketed at her challenge and gentle promise of danger. She was filling near all of his senses, leaving him squandering for pieces to pick up again. Never had he felt this weakened by carnal want before, not even in front of his goddess and ex lovers gaze

“You do not want to see that promise come true.” He finally managed out, his voice a little raspy. “I assure you. You would be much more useful if you take my threat and understand I am entirely serious.”

“That is the issue with you wizarding types - and I can say this with much liberty because my beloved is an artificer and is no exception - you are always making grand threats and promises, yet rarely do I actually see them come to pass by your hand. You sit on your high thrones with all the power of the weave in your hands yet you choose to do nearly nothing but sit by and watch others achieve your will.”

“Silence.” Gale demanded, and even though he did not have the spell on hand Joan’s jaw snapped shut. Surprise evident in her eyes that he actually made such a firm demand. “I am not your average wizarding type, and I am nothing like your beloved.” He spat the pet name out like a curse. “And you are not much better than me, you have a dagger to my neck, yet you choose to taunt me instead of doing your duty.”

Joan seemed impressed and satisfied at his words. “Maybe I simply desire to see you squirm for me wizard. Maybe I want to see if you will make good on your threat before I off you.” She tilted her head in an almost innocent display. “Or maybe, you are overreacting and I simply wish to talk.”

Gale’s dark eyes searched hers, in a desperate search for the truth of this whole situation. Had he caused this by accident? If he stepped away now would they be normal again and have a normal conversation?

Joan smiled almost ruefully after a short moment. “I am going to slaughter you Gale of Waterdeep. I am going to gut you and hear you squeal like a gored pig for me.” She licked her lips sensuously, a stark difference to the words that flowed from her. “So if you have a move to make, make it now; before I take your king.”

Gale swallowed, his eyes shutting for a moment as the unsettling gravity of the situation he got himself into dawned. If he didn’t kill her, she would kill him. He simply prayed that the others would stay away from her and Gortash if he didn’t survive this.

Gale opened his eyes, meeting her soul-searching gaze that saw his sins. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he drew up the bubbling warmth of the weave within him, prepping to take Gortash’s queen piece. He drew in one final breath before parting his lips to murmur the command for disintegrate.

Just as he voiced the first word of the spell Joan’s lips were on his, silencing him. Her dagger still firmly pressed into his neck in warning.

Everything in Gale screamed trap, to back out as fast as possible and have her destroyed. His body though surrendered to the feeling, the carnal side falling victim to the woman who was about to spill his accursed blood all over the marble floors.

He kissed her back, a hand that held her shoulder in place moving instead to cup her jaw. The action caused the woman in front of him to tense as if she expected him to choke her out. But upon realizing he was simply touching her she relaxed some, though the dagger remained, waiting for him to be weak enough, waiting until he was exactly where she wanted him.

Gale could feel the warm trickle of his blood down his neck from the nick her dagger left from how hard she had it pushed. The fluid soaking into the white collar of his shirt, though he was scarcely aware of it. In that moment the soft sting and wetness was but another faint sensation to his overwhelmed senses.

The pair kissed, neither one willing to break away. Gale’s other hand dropped off her shoulder as well, instead encircling her hips. The wizard had resigned himself to dying here, and if he was to die kissing the woman he yearned for he may as well get as much out of the experience as he possibly could.

The pressure at his neck fell away, the clatter of the blade to the floor and spinning out somewhere he couldn’t see. It was if that last touch was enough to send his killer crumbling like a sand castle when the tide came in.

One of Joan’s hands found purchase in his hair while the other grabbed at the front of his purple waistcoat. Her kisses full of hatred and passion. Passion Gale lapped up like a parched man. Her teeth bit at his bottom lip, pulling it away to watch it snap back before kissing him again.

Gale felt fuzzy with sensations. His mind in arousal overdrive. Wanting nothing more than to pull her firm to him and get even the slightest relief from the pressure of her on him. However, he was nervous if she felt his near painful erection, she may just change her mind about not killing him

Joan began to move, stumbling blindly down the hall, her back still to the wall. Not allowing him to stop kissing her even if he wanted to.

The hand gripping his waistcoat vanished and he could hear the rattle of a door handle and the clink of her jewelry on metal. A door creaked open and the hand on his waistcoat returned, pulling him back into the now open room.

Gale kicked the door closed behind them the moment they were beyond the frame. The two stumbled backwards through the room until the backs of her legs hit her target, a circular lounge bed.

The kiss broke as she fell back into the mattress, the skirt of her dress pooling around her as she gazed up at Gale heatedly. Her eyes glimmering with challenge.

Gale frowned, dropping to his knees in front of the mattress and hiking up her skirts. He gently removed the heels she was wearing, setting them delicately to the side before trailing kisses from her calf to her inner thigh - then switching to the other leg.

Joan’s breath hitched as he kissed her legs reverently. “I hate you…” She breathed out, but lifted her hips to allow him to pull her pantyhose and lacy panties away.

Gale groaned as he continued to kiss her thighs, watching her arousal cling to her panties before breaking away. He carefully tossed those articles to lay beside her heels. “You are the most beautiful being I have ever laid eyes upon…” He murmured into her skin, leaning inwards to ghost his breath along her swollen cunt. He raised his eyes to meet hers. “Please, allow me to take off your dress, make you more comfortable.”

Joan’s throat bobbed but she obliged, moving to stand in front of him. 

His nimble fingers undid the laces of the build in corset and tugged the dress down her body as he pressed kisses to every inch he could find purchase on. Drinking in the sight of her bare body before him. “Weave save me…”

“I hate you…” Joan repeated, trembling under his touch. His hands carefully removed her jewelry and adornments to keep them safe from harm, placing them and the dress off with the rest of her clothing.

“You keep saying that…” Gale murmured, his hand tracing down the small of her back. “Yet you have made no move to stop me…” He gently guided her to lay back on the bed again, his head between her legs once again.

“You… You are a tool to me right now.” Joan spoke through gritted teeth as he began his slow tortuous kisses again. “I haven’t killed you because you’ve made yourself useful.”

A small twinge of pain crossed Gale’s body, causing him to pause, his mouth right before her drenched pussy. “Well… Then I better remain useful.” He finally spoke, dipping his head in to lay gentle kisses along her smooth outer lips

Joan shuddered again under his lips, her hips twitching in desperation to find friction and get him to touch where she needed most. She groaned in frustration as every time she’d move her hips to find his mouth he’d move away, taunting her.

“Who has the power now?” Gale murmured into her inner thigh as he nuzzled it affectionately, glancing up at her. “Not so high and mighty without your dagger now are we?”

Joan gritted her teeth, “I can still kill you a multitude of ways wizard, even with you between my legs like this.” She drew in a sharp breath as Gale sucked a mark into her thigh, the action seeming to suck the malice from her voice. “Gods, please just eat me out…” Her voice trembled some, “I’ll cut out your tongue if you don’t…”

“You just had to ask.” Gale whispered, dipping his head down to slip his tongue through her folds. Dragging the appendage from her aching slit to her swollen clit. He circled a hand up her leg to gently part her so he could lay a gentle kiss on the bud. Her legs attempted to snap closed, but his shoulders held them open.

The wizard glanced up at the trembling woman, her chest fluttering with each breath she took in. Surprisingly responsive to his every action despite having a lover who she likely bedded every night.

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured, dipping his head back down to gently flick his tongue around her clit. His free hand grazed up her thigh until it reached her soaked slit, sliding around until it was wet enough to slowly insert a single digit.

Joan gasped, her thighs attempting to close as it felt like all the air was removed from her lungs. Gale’s shoulders held her open. His finger quickly and easily found her sweet spot within - something Gortash struggled to do - while he continued his gentle sucking of her clit.

Gale lifted his head from her momentarily as he slipped in a second finger, something he was surprised her body would allow. “You tell me if I’m hurting you, yeah?” He hesitated for a moment, once again the realization that this was not intimacy hitting him. He lowered his head again.

“Fuck..!” Joan whimpered, limply kicking her legs out behind his back. One of her hands found purchase in his hair, trying to keep him locked in place as her hips weakly rutted. “Don’t stop… Oh gods…” Her body trembled and her back arched some. “Faster… please faster…”

The wizard obliged, curling his fingers inside of her quicker, ignoring the fatigue in his hand. The wet squelch of each of his thrusts seemed to echo in the air in tandem with her soft moans of ecstasy.

The rich and heady scent of her sex was near overwhelming, filling all of his senses and weakening him in the knees. The hand that was not buried deep in her cunt dropped down to undo the clasps of his pants, loosening the near unbearable tension.

He opened his eyes to look up at the woman in front of him from where he was nestled against her. Her fair skin was dampened with sweat and the small ripples of her muscles spasming met his eyes. Gale could nearly swear he had never seen something so beautiful, even in his time with Mystra.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmured into her heated sex as he closed his eyes again, never ceasing his steady licks and thrusts. The hand that loosed his trousers gently began to palm himself through his briefs, trying to give some relief to his near painful erection.

He groaned into her sex, something that made her entire body tremble and a soft moan of her own escape in response.

Joan’s body shuddered, her muscles starting to tense up as her orgasm rapidly approached. Gale continued at the same pace, though he wanted nothing more than to speed up - his experience with Mystra taught him that speeding up sometimes broke the feeling because of loss of rhythm.

The hand in his hair tightened, her hips twitching and trembling. “Oh gods…” She moaned, soft curses falling from her lips before her entire body shuddered, a loud wanton moan escaping her lips. “Oh… oh Gale..!” His name fell from her tongue and Gale groaned into her clenching sex.

He continued gently licking and thrusting his fingers until her hand went limp at the back of his head. Gale pulled away, laying a final kiss on her clit before withdrawing his fingers and sucking the sticky tendrils of her orgasm off his soaked hand. After his hand was clean he lowered his head again to gently lick the slick off her overstimulated cunt, holding back a soft moan of delight as he did so.

Gale moved his head to rest against her thigh as she shivered and came down from her high. He attempted to wipe some of her slick off of his beard with the back of his hand but it was so soaked his efforts hardly made any difference. He sighed and laid a gentle kiss to her inner thigh.

Joan shivered again, goosebumps rising along her sensitive flesh. Gale raised his head off her thigh, dropping his hand off his still throbbing erection. “Are you cold?” He voiced softly, his voice a quiet rasp.

“No.” The woman in front of him responded, her voice attempting to be harsh but gave way to a hint of vulnerability.

Gale stood up on his aching legs, his knees popping as he did so. He could kill her here, with her nude body sprawled below him, weakened from her orgasm. He could nip Gortash of one of his greatest assets right now. But he couldn’t, not with her blue eyes gazing up at him with an anxiousness because she knew he could likely overpower her now with a simple word.

He could never know that she was counting on that reaction.

The wizard knelt on the edge of the bed, hesitating a moment before dipping his head down to kiss her again. And it was as if he had a little bolt of lightning sent down his spine. Her soft, warm tongue edged along his lips and he welcomed it, a shiver crossing his body at the knowledge that she could likely taste herself on his tongue.

Joan’s fingers found their way down his neck to his bloodied shirt, undoing the buttons with practiced ease. Allowing him to first shrug off his waistcoat and then his button down.

Gale groaned softly into her lips as her hands trailed down his body, becoming acquainted with every inch of his skin and every soft hair.

He pulled away from her lips with a soft gasp for air. And instantly he felt her tongue on the still slightly bleeding cut on his neck. She paused, and Gale winced; the orb might be stable but his blood was still tainted by it, though not as heavily as before, likely he still would not taste pleasant.

After only a moment though her tongue continued to gently clean the wound before pulling back to look at him. Her eyes widened in surprise as she finally saw the scar of the orb, being too busy with his lips and neck earlier to notice.

“Gods…” She whispered, grazing a hand along the circle and then onto the snaking pathways of purple. Her eyes launched to his face when she noticed Gale wince again. “Does that hurt?”

Gale shook his head. “No, no it does not.” He assured quietly, watching her slowly continue to trace her fingertips along it. Something about it was healing to see she wasn’t put off by his foul blood and odd scar, her eyes wide with awe.

As he eyes met his again he could see the million questions spinning in her head but she did not ask any of them. She instead laid a kiss in the centre of the circle before she laid back again, gazing up at him with sultry eyes, as if this new quirk of his was a turn on.

Gale couldn’t help the small smile that quirked his lips as he bowed his head to gently take one of her pink pebbled nipples in his mouth. The woman below him drew in a soft breath, one hand roving through his hair as he gently sucked and licked at her chest.

He released the first nipple with an audible pop, switching to give the same love to the other one. “Don’t want her getting jealous of her sister…” He murmured, flicking his tongue around the sensitive bud, his eyes fluttering closed.

His body jumped and he abruptly sat up as he felt her free hand gently trace down his chest until she was cupping his erection through his still opened pants. “I would advise…” Was all he managed to mumble before her feet were assisting her hand in pulling down his pants and briefs, his rock solid cock bouncing free against his navel.

Joan’s pale eyes greedily gulped down the sight of the man in front of her “You are anything but the norm for spellcasters.” She whispered reverently. Gale had the urge to ask her if that included her current fiance but decided against it.

“I have been told I am not the norm for most things.” He spoke, his voice coming out broken and breathy. Gently pulling his cock off his stomach to rub through her folds, having to choke back a soft groan.

A small twinge of worry passed over him that he would never be able to last more than a few thrusts with how long he’d gone without sex, let alone any simulation. He would quickly become a laughing stock and maybe even lose his lifesaving worth to the killer under him.

He bit his lip and shook it away, he wasn’t a stranger to edging. And with how positively she responded to his fingers earlier he was sure he could pull out and give himself a break while he continued her with his hand.

His head caught on her entrance, slowly easing into the tight, drenched hole. His moan of delight was swallowed by his lovers, her back arching and nails digging into his back, likely leaving crescent shaped cuts.

Joan whimpered and moaned, her body twitching in delight as he sunk into her slowly. Her reaction was so surprising he thought for a moment she was mocking him.

Gale grit his teeth, swallowing a moan as he bottomed out inside her, dragging himself out some before snapping back in. That time he moaned, his head falling forward, hair brushing against her neck.

He began to thrust, slowly at first, getting a feel for her body and how it responded so perfectly to every movement he made inside of her. Her nails raking down his spine, no doubt he was going to be left a bloody mess by the end of this.

A bloody mess would be better than dead.

Gale bottomed out again, his hips slapping against hers, a loud wanton moan leaving her lips. Gale shuddered, “Do I fuck you better than he does? Does he make you scream like I do?” He spoke, surprisingly harsh and almost maliceful.

She whimpered, sinking her teeth into his shoulder. Her legs spasming around his hips in confirmation to his questions. “Do not ask those questions.” She spoke between heavy laden breaths, grabbing the sides of his face to force him to look into her lidded eyes. “Questions you don’t want answered, should not be spoken during sex.”

The words that fell from her lips sounded harsh, like she was disproving the idea that he was better than Enver. But in the moment she knew he was though she couldn’t lay a finger on exactly why she felt that way. It was almost embarrassing, to know that she was enjoying sex with an enemy more than she did with her own fiance.

“I do believe I would enjoy the answer.” Gale shot back, his ego flaring up. He bottomed out particularly hard just to see her expression blank for a moment.

She grappled to regain control of her mind, sinking her teeth into the side of his neck. Breaking the skin to feel the dribble of more blood. “Just shut up and fuck me.” She released his neck, wiping her fingers in the blood that followed after. “Perhaps one spellcaster stereotype was right; you lot never shut up.”

He shoved his middle and ring finger into her mouth just as the words left her spit wet lips. He leaned in close to her ear to speak through gritted teeth. “Forgive me, but you do not seem too good at it either.”

She narrowed her eyes, staring at him from the side. She wanted to bite his fingers, to feel the snapping of his bones between her sharp teeth as he cried out in agony. But she held back, placcidly sucking on his flingers like she knew was expected.

The best way to play a game is to play the dream .

Gale shuddered a breath, cloning his eyes as he placed his head on pillows of the lounge bed. “Enver called you a naughty girl earlier,” He spoke between a moan he couldn’t swallow back. “Was this your naughty little plan? To lure me here with a friend to kill me?”

She wanted to tell him that this was one of the two options. That she killed him, leaving a power void in the party and rendering them useless; or that she got him coiled around her fingers so tight they could control him. However, she knew that speaking those words would be unwise, even without his fingers in her mouth. No matter how much sex might deaden her senses she was still conniving.

Gale drew in a sharp breath through his teeth, pushing his face deeper into the silken pillows. He was trying so hard to stay focused on himself. Impress her or die.

Her hand wrapped tightly in his hair, so much so it was almost painful. She pulled, lifting his face out of the pillows so he could not hide himself and his noises. She managed to break free from the fingers in her mouth, silencing her own tongue.

“Do not hide those delicious noises wizard…” She groaned as he rutted at her words. “A man who does not hide his enjoyment is ever more the sexy…”

“You…” Gale gasped, his thighs beginning to shake slightly. “You must not have experience with a truly vocal man…”

She tilted her head back against the pillows, her back arching against her will once more. It was a terrifying feeling, to be enjoying sex so much with a man she was supposed to be at war with. “Perhaps…”

Gale groaned again, his head dropping down against her narrow shoulder. Maybe, just maybe, an alliance with Gortash would not be so foul if he allowed Gale permission to do this more often.

His hand slipped down to find her clit once again, rubbing careful circles on the drenched little nub. He had given up on the idea of edging, knowing that if he pulled out to edge he may just cum shortly after anyways. Instead he had come to the conclusion he would use his adept hands to at least finish her around the same time.

The sting and bite of her nails on his back and shoulders was gone, though that might have been because he went numb to the sensation. The pain taking a backseat with his impending orgasm.

Joan could feel the wetness of his blood on her, covering her hands from her scratching, in her mouth and on her lips, even dripping down onto her breast. The beast inside delighted, though the woman wilted. She was still a slave to the desires she did not want, even when she tried to fight it. The violence of her hatred and fear only feeding the urge to hurt more.

Despite her best efforts to push down the excitement she felt at his blood, she had to admit, in the moment it was turning her on more. This man and his cursed blood, something about it felt electric.

The circles were becoming sloppier, though no less enjoyable. Admittedly though, that could have been caused more by the whole situation than simply his fingers. The thrill of it all had her nearly dizzy.

Gale drew in a sharp breath, her hand yanking up back up off of his shoulder again to force him to watch her face with his hazy eyes. “You’re so beautiful.” Gale uttered again, the words genuine despite his heavy breathing and lack of focus.

Joan couldn’t hold back a whimper at that, the comment striking her deep now in this moment of weakness at the edge of orgasm. She had practically torn this man to shreds and here he was, still being so genuine.

Gale huffed out a breath, his head starting to drop again before she pulled him back to attention. It is the gentleman thing to do to alert the other party you are about to cum, even when they are evil. He mentally chidded himself in his brain slurry of pleasure.

“I have to tell you…” The words failed his lips as she clamped her hands down on either side of his face to kiss him firmly, the man only managing a weak. “ Cumming. ” as a warning against her lips.

In fact it could hardly count as a warning because he began to cum hardly a stroke after those words. He began to try and pull out, even though he knew she couldn’t get pregnant from him – it just felt wrong to cum in another mans fiancee, as if sex wansn’t bad enough.

However, she clampped her legs around his hips insuring he stayed buried within as he spent himself. Her orgasm cresting as well as he weakly rutted his hips.

Gale felt like he was choking, and not just from her tongue in his mouth. Choking from the crushing pleasure he was so unused to. His throat tight and his eyes clenching in an attempt not to weep a little.

He stilled over top of her, his hand continuing it’s lazy circles before finally going placid. The wizard trying to catch his breath and assess the amount of mortal damage she had actually done to him. All he knew that now that he was lucid again, everything burned.

She allowed his head to fall back down to the pillow, her hands moving to run over his back in a soothing gesture but she froze when she felt just how wet and sticky his back actually was.

The urge wanted more, finding it quite delightful how much the wizard could bleed for her and keep up pleasing her. The woman was disgusted with herself.

Gale winced as he hands trailed over his back, unable to help the reaction as his open wounds were surveyed.

She did not apologize, did not ask if he wanted help. Instead she let her own holy magic pulse through her hands in an attempt to close up the damage she did to him. Even through his worry of his own condition he managed to find the thought to magic away the cruel mess he had made.

To Gale, that was the strangest, yet most clear apology he had ever received through action. Never in his life could he recall being brutalized in sex, let alone healed by the same person shortly afterwards.

“Thank you.” Was all Gale managed to utter, sitting up off of her on his still quaking legs. “For all of this… I know this was likely all a manipulation but truly.” He looked over his shoulder to his still bloody, but all healed back. “You did not have to do all of this for me…”

Joan didn’t say anything, swinging her legs off of the lounge bed. She walked on trembling legs towards the small vanity desk at the side of the room, reaching for a hairbrush to brush out her tangled hair.

She felt numbed, as though she was no longer a real person. The monster and the woman battling, unsure what was truly wanted anymore. Power or humanity.

Gale watched her from his spot on the bed, slowly pulling back on his briefs. He studied her expression in the mirror, taking in the distance in her eyes. She looked strangely like someone who was mourning, or possibly someone who was haunted.

He may have only known her for a few hours, with very sparing interactions. But to see someone so utterly haunted stood out to him as completely unnatural.

Gale crossed the room to stand behind her, reaching over her shoulder for the brush. She jumped when he touched it, as though she hadn’t realized he was there even though she was watching him in the mirror.

“Allow me.” Gale whispered, his voice raw as he took the brush from her hands. “I was the one who caused your hair to be in such disarray, it should be me who tidies it once again.”

He brushed her blonde hair, the crystals that were still woven in clinking occasionally as the prongs ran over them. It was a soothing gesture, one that he could recall doing for his mother even when he was a little boy.

“You look troubled.” Gale spoke finally, glancing back at her face in the mirror. “I know we are not friends… but you have to understand that that expression does not just come from cheating.”

“I always look like this.” She responded hallowly, watching as Gale put the brush down in exchange for a wash cloth.

“I somehow doubt that.” The cloth gently wiped at her skin, at the blood staining her hands, face and breast. And for a moment she thought she might cry at the simple action and words.

How the woman longed to tell him, this man whom she had just met and shared an odd connection to. She longed to feel like something not to be feared, and it seemed as though he did not fear her. But would that continue if he knew?

Enver did not fear her. He knew her soul and he did not fear. That was enough.

But Enver could never understand her true struggles, no matter how many times she tried to explain them to him. They did not face the same expectations. Enver would not understand the torment on her soul.

And why would a wizard?

Gale set the washcloth aside, understanding her reluctance to talk about it. I want to understand. He wanted to tell her, but they were not lovers, they weren’t even aquantices. “Do you need help back into the dress?” Is what he asked instead.

And so he did, he helped her dress herself, helped her put back on her jewllery. And at the end of his he kissed the peak of her shoulder. “You look beautiful tonight.” He spoke quietly as he stepped away.

She paused at the door, looking back at him with a forlorn expression. Her pale eyes looking more like someone who was eternally tortured than a masterful killer. “I’m sorry.” She uttered, turning her face away from him as she exited the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

Gale stood alone in the room, the smell of sex still in the air and only in his briefs. He half expected her to brust back into the room with her knife and stab him to death.

Upon accepting, with much relief, that she would not be coming back to finish her murder, Gale grabbed the washcloth again to wipe down the blood coating him.

 

---

 

When Gale finally returned to the ball it had mostly cleared out, a few dwindling nobles left in the ballroom. All of the companions gone, likely thinking Gale was dead somewhere in the fortress and looking for him, or thinking he’d be back at the inn and heading there now.

Joan stood back by Envers side, the mans hand wrapped casually around her hip as he spoke and laughed with who Gale assumed were people who invested into the steelwatch.

The wizard couldn’t help the smug smile that crossed his lips as he could only hope Enver could smell Gale on her. A cruel and almost petty victory, but one that filled him with pride nevertheless.

Joan looked overtowards Gale, her eyes meeting his under the feathers of her swan mask. “Leave now.” The words imposed on his brain through the tadpole, the words sending a chill down the wizards spine.

A warning or a simple ask?

Whatever it was Gale did not want to risk the chance that it was a warning. Being slaughtered after everything, with all the new theories and plans blossoming in his mind was not his ideal.

“Thank you.” He responded, vanishing once again from the ballroom. Soon enough Wyll would use whatever warlock magic he had to locate Gale, and he would see that he was back at the elfsong safe and sound.

The wizard could only pray that none of them asked where he vanished to, and that Astarion didn’t tell them he hooked up with their enemy.

Maybe he’d have time for a bath before they got back, better to wash off all smell of her perfume and skin to sell the lie he’d have to tell.

White lies don’t hurt.

Notes:

Enver Gortash smut next chapter anyone???

Notes:

I promise I know how penis works...

Also I didn't drop off the end for no reason, it actually is a time skip if that wasn't obvious.

I promise I'll proof this for the millionith time in a little while because I have an eerie feeling my grammar is absolute balls.