Bg3 Zevlor - Blog Posts

Can I request headcanons for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gn crush accidentally confessing to him?

Dammon, Rolan and Zevlor If Their Gender Neutral Crush Accidentally Confesses To Him Headcanons

Note(s) : The reader isn't Tav or durge they're just sort of a random person, I don't think the race is ever specified (correct me if I'm wrong) and neither are any described features or their class.

I'm not too knowledgeable of Dammon, Zevlor and Rolan's character in BG3 and I'm so sorry if the characters are wrong.

This is a mix of random general relationship headcanons as well as the random confession.

Dammon

He's all about outwardly caring for those he loves and he understands that love can come in many ways, he had a strong love for you before you had even confessed aloud, a mix of platonic and romantic feelings that he would showcase by doing tasks for you.

Whether he gained his crush first or you did doesn't matter in his eyes. What matters to him is that he doesn't know if you liked him back for quite a while, not until you had confessed that is. Dammon's not the type of man to make wild guesses about romance, even if you're more affectionate he doesn't think anything of it because some people are just like that with their friends and he thinks that it'd be presumptuous to assume.

He decides to eventually try and court you by making you small items or helping you as much as he could with his blacksmith job, things like necklaces, bracelets, maybe even armour, whatever you prefer, really.

Dammon isn't a fan of the typical Tiefling courting rituals, they're the same as humans but with violent and sarcastic speech, along with playful teasing and pushing their object of affection around. Of course, he won't judge if you do that to him, he can take teasing, but he much prefers to show his love through affectionate actions and words.

When you confess to him he gets more excited than embarrassed or flirty, he adores you and to know that you feel the same way as he does gets him a little giddy. He won't even realise that this could be embarrassing to you or even uncomfortable, straight away asking if you'd like to go on a date or be a couple. He does apologise after he realises how forward he's being though.

Rolan

In a relationship Dammon is very much someone who shows his love through acts of service, he'll craft things for you, help you with your job(s) and even just random tasks you might not want to or be able to do by yourself.

Sometimes he'll make random pieces of jewellery, he says that it doesn't matter if you want to wear them all the time, just as long as you like them. He accepts any gifts even if they're not something he likes, he can find a way to make it practical.

Dammon loves to tease you about your shy confession, in public and private. Unless you directly tell him you don't like it he'll randomly bring it up during conversation, when you're being cocky or teasing him it's an easy and fairly cute memory he can use to make fun of you.

Cooking is something that's interesting for the both of you, I don't think that he'd be too good at cooking or baking, not so horrible that he'll burn down a house, but not really good enough that you'd be able to have a lot of his food. Don't get him wrong, he'd love to learn, but he does prefer to have you cook while he gets ingredients and helps with any part of it that doesn't require anything that requires experience or talent in cooking.

His cuddles are very shifty, I don't think he likes to stay still for long and so you'll constantly be switching positions and he'll tend to play with your hair or hands if you let him. He might roll you around so you're laying on top of him, he's on top of you, you're sideways and hugging him, or he's hugging you, it generally just depends on how fidgety he feels on that day.

His kisses are short, he likes to give a small peck to your lips every few moments. Whether you're busy with your work or he is with his blacksmith work, then boom, kiss out of nowhere on your cheek or neck, he loves to catch you off guard and laughs whenever you get surprised by them.

Rolan personally doesn't do the typical tiefling courting strategy, of course he's sarcastic, but he's not going to be spewing out any violent speech when it's supposed to be a romantic hint to his feelings toward you.

His reaction would mostly depend on how it happened, and I can mainly see it going a few ways. Either A, you accidentally blurt it out during a conversation directly to him, or B, he overhears you talking about your love for him in some way, maybe going over a confession you're planning with a friend or you're just ranting about how much you like him.

If you blurt it out during conversation he's certainly surprised, but he is wondering if it's some sort of joke even if you're not that type of person. He will absolutely ask if Lyla or Cal put you up to this. Whereas if he overhears you he's much more likely to believe it's genuine, and he won't strut over while the other person is still there, he'll wait until you're done with the conversation and then strut over.

Whatever the way it happens, he will a hundred percent tease you about it. Nothing too heavy and it's mainly a ploy to confirm that you do in fact like him, just so he can make sure the situation is correct and he's not just assuming. He'll just outwardly say things like 'So, you have feelings for me?', 'a birdie seems to have told me about your feelings.', etc.

When you confirm you do in fact have romantic feelings for him he's over the moon, of course he won't outwardly show it and attempts to act suave, he's failing miserably and stumbles over one or two words at first, with false cocky arrogance and deepening his voice to try and make you more embarrassed than he is. Although, if you look down at his feet you can see that his tail is swishing back and forth.

In a relationship he's a mix between awkward and suave, he loves to tease you but if you tease back he gets huffy and storms off, not because he's angry, but because he's just so embarrassed. Especially if you do it around his siblings, Cal and Lia will help you make fun of him but he won't forgive you, unless you give him a kiss or gift him a new book and then it's history.

Rolan will sometimes remind you of how you so forwardly and awkwardly confessed to him to try and make you embarrassed, whether or not if you actually bite back or not doesn't matter, but he loves to do it when you flirt with him first. Oh, you think you've caught him off guard? Well, here's his ultimate trap card! Unless you're not embarrassed by it, then he's stuck trying to remember some other event that could make you embarrassed.

Zevlor

He's not too great at cooking but he can absolutely try for you, he's better at baking because of the strict step by step instructions, but for cooking where it mainly relies on taste and altering recipes he can struggle a little. Rolan does that cute thing if you like to cook or bake where he wraps his arms around you from behind and gives you a lil' kiss.

His cuddles are very 'bear hug' like, when you're spooning him he always asks you to wrap your arms around his waist and push yourself against him fully, he adores the closeness and comfort of it. When he's spooning you he does the same, arms around your waist, his face buries in your neck, making sure to position his horns away from your face. He prefers cuddling in bed and laying down rather than sitting up or on the sofa, the sofas smaller so it makes it harder to get comfortable in his opinion.

Rolan's kisses are always short and sweet, gentle and usually he'll give two or three pecks in a row because he can't get enough of you. Sometimes he'll kiss you for longer or more passionately, usually if one of you is upset or had a long day and just needs one another to relax.

So, Zevlor's not exactly the most confident or well sought after in the romance department. His age shows on his face and many people seem to be turned off by it, of course there's the whole issue with his past that many tieflings dislike him over, which they make painfully clear.

Although of course, one man's trash is another's treasure, that's where you come in. You both express interest in one another, if you don't catch on due to differences in culture, a general misunderstanding or complete obliviousness, that's up to you. But Zevlor does try to court you.

Regardless of the fact that he's single and has been for a while, he still values romance to some part. Even though it's not to the point that he actively wishes for a relationship or is miserable outside of one.

Overall, Tiefling courting rituals are similar to human courting rituals, but with a lot more grim gallows humor they use to cope with being shunned in most societies that you might not be comfortable with. In Tiefling spaces a common dark joke is 'The fastest way to a man's heart is to either make it laugh it up, or cut it out of him.' If you are a Tiefling, or perhaps from a culture or a specific race that has similar courting rituals to a Tiefling, then he will most likely just stick with what he'd normally say. Nothing too intense, but definitely things that would make a stranger unaware of these traditions to raise a brow.

If you're a non Tiefling he might try to dial back what he would typically do to court one of his own race, in his years he understands that many races or cultures will show love through kind actions, but for Tieflings, courting is all about sarcasm and being a bit more 'violent' verbally. But, if a Tiefling didn't like you then they wouldn't pick on you.

Many Tieflings in the grove are already, painfully so, aware of your little crush on the old Tiefling man. Whether it's because you've talked to them about it or because you're just so obvious, gossip can spread like a wild hellfire, everybody will know even if only one person does.

He most likely had one or two flings in his time, but to hear someone so suddenly admit that they have feelings for him is rather new, and, let me just say, I think he would have some clue before you even said it out loud. Zevlor would never outright think 'they love me', but perhaps would be under the impression that you admire him in some way, especially with how many tieflings try to hint to him that you do love him.

I don't think he would even attempt to court you if he didn't think you'd be at least a little interested.

Obviously if you're reading this you most likely want Zevlor to reciprocate your feelings and accept your confession, which he does, his confession back isn't blunt per se but he definitely gets his feelings across without mincing any words.

In a relationship he's a little awkward at first, but definitely not shy. It's mostly because it's been a while since his last lover but he also wants to make it work with you, but after a few weeks he really does begin to settle in. He'll suggest activities to strengthen your bond, like cooking meals for each other and the other tieflings, training with weapons or fighting styles either one of you might not be perfect with or against, and sometimes just taking a stroll around to admire nature.

Zevlor will adore it if you bite back with equal sarcasm, he is never outright rude, especially if he knows you can't handle it, but he does love a good playful back and forth.

I don't think Zevlor would ever tease you about your awkward and sudden confession in public, maybe with a few close friends of yours or his, but it's mainly when you two are alone and it's usually just if you tease him first. It's a fun little inside joke between you two that you can always find humor in.

Zevlor's great at cooking that can give you energy and also taste good with minimal ingredients, it's nothing spectacular that you can eat thousands of plates full of, but they're always able to give a pep in your step. He, however, isn't too good at baking, and so if you like to bake then he appreciates some lessons when either of you have the time.

I think he'd be rather awkward and stiff if you ever cuddle for the first few times, after a while he does learn what you both like and how to position himself to be comfortable for each other, but he feels very cumbersome especially if you're laying down. Zevlor prefers to cuddle on the sofa just sitting next to each other one arm around another's waist style.

His kisses are passionate and like the movies, that's the best way I can describe them. He wants you to know how much he loves kissing you and so he takes your breath away every time, if either of you are busy or in a rush he will give a small peck to your cheek as to not make you dawdle.

Almost forgot that I drew these as an addition to this post

Heavily inspired by THIS post by @ceo-of-sloppy-men

Don’t worry,guys! Salami Bhaalivna rolled Nat20 on Persuasion!

Oathbreakers from two different walks of life, a coincidence.

Первый покрас второй страницы, пока поработаю над третьей, а потом добавлю детали и диалоги сюда

Недовольный паладин в трусах

Мне нравится рисовать его молодость, такой растерянный и милый

Клубничка какая то, а не адский всадник🍓

Это все еще скетч, но 2 страница почти оформлена

Видимо паладина пытаются напоить, неуклюже как то 🤷

Кто она? Чего хочет от Зевлора? 😈

Какой-то интересный комикс намечается хе-хе 😈

Пленник Зевлор

Пленник Зевлор

Боже... Как же сложно было его рисовать не смотря на референсы 😭

Молодой и зрелый Зевлор

Мне нравится чувствовать разницу между его поведением и тем как бы он относился к своему партнёру.

Мне кажется он мог быть больше бунтарём в молодости, из-за внутренних переживаний, незрелости и явного стеснения перед объектом воздыхания, но это не значит что он бы проявлял грубость и не уважение. Но явно хуже скрывал свое явное желание близости 👉👈😳

Я сдаюсь

Моя первая серьёзная попытка рисования на планшете

Работы еще много, но не думаю что сейчас я смогу лучше 😅

Скейчи моего любимого тиффлинга с моим гг

Не бойся меня

Глава 4

Оба путника шли погруженные в себя. Зевлор несколько минут думал о том, какого было жить человеку, среди тифлингов, но вскоре его мысли были направлены на то, как близко лагерь, ведь он уже видит огонь костров и голоса своих людей.

Девушка же думала о том, что ее ждёт впереди. Новые друзья, или, все будет как в роще, чужая среди своих.

Она уже мысленно думала, как скоро ей придётся покинуть лагерь беженцев.

Когда света костров было достаточно, чтобы видеть окружающие пространство, Зевлор отпустил руку девушки:

-Пришли, сейчас я тебя представлю.

Асмир кивнула.

Появление лидера, после долгого отсутствия, взбодрило беженцев. Отовсюду послышались радостные и облегчённые вздохи: “Зевлор вернулся. Наконец-то”

Зевлор объявил, что беспокоится не о чем, чтобы окружающие его люди успокоились. Все начали с интересом рассматривать девушку, что стояла рядом с их командиром, который к тому же вернулся с довольно большой поклажей за плечами.

Асмир также окидывала беженцев ответными взглядами, изучая их первое впечатление о себе.

Зевлор огляделся и увидел как, несколько высоких мужских фигур приближаются к нему.

-Заставил же ты нас поволноваться, - молодой тиффлинг в плотном балахоне, синего цвета, начал первым, - мы уже отправили несколько наших ребят тебя искать, пока остальные остались охранять лагерь.

Голос был у него не по возрасту грубый, сиплый и хриплый, а длинный лук за плечами, сразу представили его в глазах Асмир любителем помахать кулаками. Она напряглась, поджав губы, перевела взгляд на светловолосого тиффлинга в доспехах, таких же, как у ее спасителя.

“А говорил, что не солдаты”

Она начала озираться пытаясь рассмотреть, кто ещё носит доспехи, в свете огней, на некоторых фигурах она четко видела металлический отблеск, но большинство были всё-таки в обычной запыленной одежде. И детей сновало много.

Она вновь обратила внимание на разговаривающих, когда до нее сквозь поток собственных мыслей донёсся звук ее имени.

-Асмир? - Зевлор и два молодых тиффлинга уставились на нее тремя парами светящихся глаз. Она посмотрела на них:

-Да?

Зевлор с недовольным видом вновь начал:

-Это Ашарак, - тиффлинг в синей одежде кивнул, слегка склонившись в поклоне, усмехаясь:

-Какая мечтательная. Приятно познакомиться.

Хриплый голос необычно звучал для друидки. Асмир ответила:

-И мне.

Опомнившись она повторила поклон, как и новый знакомый.

Тиффлинг в доспехах, видимо самый молодой из них, звонким голосом поприветствовал:

-На верняка бедняжка устала, не дразни ее. Я Гекс, - он протянул руку как истинный джентльмен. Девушка пожала ее, как будто не понимая специфичность его жеста.

Гекс принял это, как некоторое, не умением друидов к манерам принятым в светскомом обществе и не обиделся.

-Асмир, - повторила имя девушка, пожимая крупную руку.

Мужчина слегка нахмурился. Он почувствовал что руки девушки липкие, испачканные чем то, но стараясь не показывать неприязнь отпустил ее, только после того, как девушка разжала пальцы.

Зевлор молча, с понимающим сожалением, смотрел как Гекс стареет скрыть, что потирает руки.

-Чтож ужин готов, думаю вы наверняка голодны, да и добыча смотрю не маленькая, - указал на мешок Ашарак, усмехаясь.

-Это лекарство, - коротко пояснила девушка, Зевлор наконец снял мешок с плеч.

-Отнеси это к повозкам, - указал Гексу паладин, - займемся этим позже. А мне нужно к Даммону, Асмир отведите к женщинам, пусть дадут ей место для ночлега и накормят.

- Хорошо, - Ашарак и Гекс кивнули.

- Командир! - басистый голос резко донесся до компаний с другой стороны лагеря. На него обернулись мужчины, а у Асмир побежали мурашки по спине, от столь громогласного крика.

- Можно тише?

- Мы уже отдохнуть хотим!

- Сколько можно?

Недовольное ворчание прокатилось по лагерю среди уставших путешественников. А рассыпаясь в извинения, к группе лидеров приближалася огромный тиффлинг. Он был на голову выше любого из них, и крупнее, за плечами виднелся силуэт тяжёлого молота, которым наверняка с легкостью можно проломить грудную клетку, даже через доспех. Он казалось задыхался от возмущения. А может и от спешки, чтобы как можно быстрее приблизиться к говорившим.

-Быстро же он вернулся, - тихо заметил Гекс.

Зевлор уже мечтавший об отдыхе и хотя бы о тишине, нетерпеливо обратился:

-В чем дело?

Тяжёлая фигура незнакомого тиффлинга приблизилась на вытянутую руку и с глубоким вздохом начала:

-Я нашёл несколько трупов гнолловского молодняка, как раз по вашему маршруту, и один превращенный в настоящее месиво чуть дальше, разволновался, что такое могло с вами приключится, - громадная фигура продолжала басить, активно жестикулируя.

-Все в порядке, Ивар, - подытожил старший тиффлинг, - гноллов убил я, они напали на путницу, кстати представлю тебе ее, она теперь путешествует с нами.

Асмир обернулась, и замерла, на ее лице запечатлелось удивление, пополам с растерянностью. Ее глаза судорожно осматривали пришедшего почти вплотную тиффлинга.

Ивар тоже замер удивленно пялясь, но оно быстро сменилось радостной улыбкой:

-Вот это встреча…еще и в таком месте. За 8 лет ты совсем не изменилась, Асмир.

Не бойся меня

Глава 3

Асмир все так же умудрялась отставать от паладина. Тот же искоса бросал на нее взгляды, чтобы она не потерялась по дороге.

Целый мешок грибов за его спиной, ничуть не замедлил бодрого военного шага. Девушка упорно шла за ним, стараясь не терять маячивший красный хвост из виду.

Журчание воды очень скоро сменило лесной шум, сотканный из шелества деревьев.

Это успокоило напряжённые нервы девушки. Друидка пребывала в своих мыслях, увлечённая миролюбивой обстановкой леса. Она даже не заметила, что Зевлор ушел далеко в перед. Она совсем перестала о нем думать.

Тиффлинг же тоже прибывал в своих мыслях, но старался делать остановки, чтобы Асмир успевала его нагнать. Когда он бросал на нее взгляд, девушка все ещё была мечтательно-задумчива.

Стоило ей достаточно приблизиться, как мужчина вновь шёл в перед, а мысли его обращались к кровавому отпечатку на его запястье, что оставила его новая знакомая.

Ему хотелось поскорее отмыться от крови, за столько лет, он так и не привык к ней, в то время, девушку испачканные руки со всем не беспокоили.

Тиффлинг сморщил нос и принюхался. Кровь из брюха гнолла сильно воняла: "Теперь весь этим пропахну".

Но времени на остановку не было, Зевлор хотел добраться до лагеря до темноты.

Он остановился в очередной раз и заметил, как Асмир что-то рассматривает на кусте, она была не очень далеко, но явно со всеми забыла о том, что надо идти в лагерь.

Тиффлинг вздохнул: "Если она так будет летать в облаках, я ее совсем потеряю".

- Не отставай! - слегка раздражённо позвал ее. Девушка подняла голову, посмотрев на кричащего в перейди провожатого.

Девушка кивнула, но вместо того, что бы поспешить к Зевлору, начала копошится в густых зарослях куста.

- Да, что этому друиду опять взбрело в голову...- раздосадованно заметил паладин. И поставив мешок к ногам, сам пошел проверить. Темнота скоро окутает лес, а они так и не добрались до места стоянки. Зевлор не планировал так сильно задерживаться, на верняка его уже могли идти разыскивать, а он застрял с витающей в облаках девчонкой.

- Лоза, мне нужна она, - девушка четно пыталась распутать вьюн, что оплел кусты.

- У нас верёвки достаточно, идем, уже темнеет, - строго сказал Зевлор, который уже устал от странностей новой спутницы.

- Я прочитаю заклинание ночного зрения, не бойся, дойду, - ответила девушка, продолжая свою возню.

- Мы не можем заставлять других ждать, - наклонился к ней, чтобы посмотреть ей в глаза, - Идем.

Он поджал губы, вновь брать ее за руку, чтобы повести за собой, ему не хотелось. Она все ещё была испачкана в крови, а теперь еще и в земле.

- Хорошо, - согласилась, но вновь возобновила свое занятие.

- Да, что ты опять делаешь? - воскликнул возмущённо.

- Лозу поправляю обратно, - не понимая, его негодования, ответила Асмир.

Зевлор был готов взвыть. С его губ сорвалось сдавленное рычание. Недовольно уставился своими огненными глазами на раздражающую его друидскую девушку.

- Пошли, сейчас! - он не хотел переходить на командирский тон, она бы этого не поняла, да и не являлась его подчинённой, а свободной душой, живущий в своём лоне природы, никогда не знающей цивилизации.

Асмир какое то время просто моргала на хмурого старого тиффлинга. Что-то сказало ей внутри, что его стоит послушать и подчиниться.

Она поднялась. Зевлор коротко, но ясно, мотнул головой в сторону лагеря, и они вновь двинулись. Теперь же Асмир пришлось идти на ровне с сопровождающим, чтобы он не давал ей отвлекаться.

Солнце уже совсем скрылось за горизонтом, оставляя лес в темноте. Зевлор несколько беспокоился, он не рассчитывал задерживаться так долго в своём патруле и не брал с собой огня.

- Возможно, меня уже ищут... - нервно, заметил вслух. Асмр же немного виновата, опустила голову.

- Не отставай от меня! - обратился вновь к ней тифлинг. Рядом стоящая девушка кивнула.

- Отвечай вслух!

- А?

- Я не вижу в темноте, - недовольно, с ноткой сожаления, пояснил Зевлор.

- Но ты же тиффлинг, почему ты лишён этого дара?

"Дара?!": Зевлора смутила её трактовка. Разве адское наследие - это дар? Он что, недостаточно благословлён в проклятие своего народа?

Его всегда отличало более сильное адское наследие, чем у его сородичей. Рога были массивнее, чем у многих мужчин тиффлингов, адские выступы переходили не только на тело, но и на лицо формируя острые скулы и нависшие надбровные дуги. Клыков, во рту было больше, уши торчали с обеих сторон, были довольно мясистые и отличали его, как и рога, а зрение в темноте было у него слабое.

Зевлор молчал, не нашел ответа, он был таким всегда. Вот и все.

- «Secreti umbrarum!», - небольшая вспышка бледно-голубой дымки слетела с рук друидки к тиффлингу.

Паладин даже ахнул от неожиданности. Неожиданно для себя он увидел лес, деревья, ветви, дорогу под ногами. Ночное зрение отличалось от дневного, многие цвета изменились Обернувшись его взгляд остановился на лице Асмир.

Она не видела его, но отдала заклинание, чтобы Зевлор мог видеть.

- Теперь видно? - она улыбнулась мягко, но слегка самодовольно.

- Да, видно... Спасибо, я никогда не пробовал это заклинание.

- Не стоит благодарности, это не проблема, - Асмир улыбну шире, - Ну, идём?

- Да, - перехватил мешок удобнее и сделал несколько шагов вперёд, обернулся.

Асмир двинулась неуверенно, выставив руки перед собой.

– Я рядом… - Зевлор обхватил ее запястье, поборов неприязнь к засохшей крови.

-О! - девушка сжала его руку, - вы тиффлинги такие приятные на ощупь и теплые такие, - ее большой палец аккуратно погладил тыльную сторону ладони паладина.

- Ты часто общаешься с тиффлингами?- Зевлора немного смутил ее неожиданный комплимент, но не сказать, что ему было неприятно.

- Я росла среди них. Архидруид Гнилостивой рощи - тиффлинг Моррис. Он организовал небольшую общину для всех желающих, но как правило там жили именно тифлинги.

- Твои родители были единственными людьми в этой роще?- Зевлор потянул свою спутницу за собой. Они вновь зашагали к лагерю. Новое зрение позволяло разглядеть Зевлору фигуры впереди: “Наконец-то дошли”.

- Нет, я единственный человек..

Не бойся меня

Глава 2

Зевлор то и дело оглядывался на хрипящий труп, что как послушный щенок следовал за Асмир. Девушка же отставала от паладина, что шел по военному: далеко выбрасывая ноги. Ей приходилось иногда ускоряться, но стоило ей его догнать, как темп ее босых ног, вновь оставлял ее позади.

- Может отдохнёшь? - предложил тиффлинг, ему казалось, что встреча с опасностью и заклинание на поднятие трупа несколько измотали столь слабое существо.

- Нет, просто ты слишком быстрый...

- Мы уже почти на месте, - задумчиво взглянул на труп, размышляя. Асмир решила предположить:

- Не хочешь вести его к мирным людям?

- Они и так на нервах...

- Я хотела конечно что бы большинство грибов достигли зрелости сами, но если я ещё волью магии в них, то они полностью созреют, и тогда придётся нести урожай самим.

- Не проблема, - ответил тиффлинг, - я донесу.

- Ну... Да...- повернулась к зомби. Приблизилась к нему и прижала руку к его распухшей груди.

- Потрогай, он словно живой, - улыбнулась милой и восхищённой улыбкой.

От ее предложения Зевлор опешил. Его нос дёрнулся, а губы скривились в отвращении:

- Вот уж, нет!

Асмир заметила, что даже его хвост напрягся и уже не равномерно раскачивается позади, а стоял практически трубой.

Девушка схватила мужчину за руку, мягко притягивая к себе:

- Он безвреден, не стоит так бояться.

Зевлор хотел отдернуть руку, но не от страха, а от странного чувства дискомфорта.

"Если бы она так тянула меня к цветочной поляне, я бы сам с радостью пошёл".

Тиффлинг не стал сопротивляться, не перед этой друидкой. Она осторожно держала его руку, и совсем не боялась прикасаться.

Зевлор подошёл ближе к трупу. Запах гнили слегка щипал нос, но не первый раз он его улавливает, мужчина был привычен к этому. И от того ему было печально.

Столько сражении он пережил. Много выигрывал боев, еще больше потерял соратников. И каждый раз когда он находил павшего товарища, или новобранца, за которого нес ответственность, он чувствовал запах смерти. Запах неудачи. Нет, это запах его ошибки.

Он боялся и ненавидел его, мысли о том что когда нибудь... Если он ошибётся сного, так будет пахнуть его лагерь. Его спутники - защитники лагеря, мирные жители: женщины и мужчины никогда не державшие оружие, дети...

А теперь девушка, которой он спас жизнь, просит его вдыхать гнилой аромат. Восхитится им, словно это что-то прекрасное.

Асмир тянет его ближе к плоти.

- Нет, - выдёргивает руку, и отворачивается от зомби, - Хватит! Сказал держать свои наклонности при себе!

"Не сдержался. Адова сера, еще и на девчонку накричал... она не виновата, что ты никого не можешь защитить"

- Да... Прости, - подошла ближе к трупу, как будто он мог ее утешить. Ее рука нежно прошлась поглаживая податливую шерсть, под которой, словно живое сердце, пульсировало споры грибов:

- Здесь и расстанемся мой друг, извини что не среди твоей стаи...

Неожиданно зомби который хрипел без остановки, замолчал и рухнул перед ней на землю. Грибы же продолжили буйно рости, формируя целую цветущую область.

- Готово, - сообщила друидка.

- Добра даже к врагу, - немного неловко прокомментировал паладин.

- Он следовал своей природе, а умерев перестал быть моим врагом...

Зеврол подошёл к Асмир. Девушка присела рядом с новой грибницей:

- Есть во что сложить?

Зеврол выудил поношей плащ, который иногда прикрывал его от непогоды, протянул Асмир. Девушка не стала медлить, расстелила ткань и принялась укладывать урожай грибов. Мужчина начал ей помогать:

- Я не хотел повышать голос, прости. Для меня это...

- Бояться смерти это нормально, - продолжила девушка, - теперь я лучше тебя понимаю.

Мужчина удивлённо посмотрел на друида споровика:

- Правда?

Девушка кивнула.

- Может тогда обсудим условия, чтобы меньше причинять боль друг другу? - предложила Асмир, немного промолчав.

Зевлор задумался. Все больше их общение было далеко от того, что представлял он в начале, когда протягивал ей свою руку. Пугливая девушка, которая нуждалась в защите, неожиданно, стала пугать его самого. Проявление ее какой-то извращенной доброты, было для него странно, и от того ее предложение показалось тиффлингу разумным.

- Да, согласен, - кивнул , и уставился на нее серьёзно, - для начала, прошу тебя, прежде чем использовать друидскую магию, кроме лечения, советуйся со мной.

- Всю? - обиженно уточнила.

- Тиффлинго не все готовы принять, а если нас будут сопровождать мёртвые тела...

- Я ведь не только поднимать трупы способна, и целительством владеть! Как и любому друиду мне повинуется стихия, я считаю, что этим я могу распоряжаться сама! Я же не требую от вас ничего, хотя мне не нравится твой металл...

- Боже, в тебе столько упрямства, хорошо, - вздохнул паладин, - надеюсь в тебе достаточно благоразумия.

Зевлор связал концы плаща, и как мешок взвалил себе на плечи.

- Не отставай, - направился к лагерю.

Просто фантазия. Зеврол и мой персонаж, который не Тав. События немного отличается от игры, но происходят в этой вселенной.

Не бойся меня.

Глава первая.

Первое что зародилось в ее груди, при взгляде на мастерски орудующего мечом тиффлинга - страх. Не демонические наследие: массивные изогнутые рога; остроконечный хвост; багровая кожа; адские глаза, а сила с которой он разбрасывает врагов, его ярость при нанесение удара, мастерство, которое позволяет ему с лёгкостью убивать, тех кого он считает угрозой. Это ее пугало и завораживало. Если он посчитает ее угрозой?

Сейчас это не важно. Он принимает на себя граду ударов, парируя их одним за одним. До первой крови. Стоит ему получить ранение, как не осознавая девушка использовала лечение. Яркий свет пронизовал все тело бойца-тиффлинга, останавливая кровь, усмиряя боль. Он продолжил убивать. Убивать во благо ваших жизней. Или только своей? Когда враги полягут убитые его руками, он примнётся за тебя?

И вот он остановился, у последнего тела, поражённого им противника. Поднял меч, испачканный кровью.

Ее сердце забилось, она смотрела на фигуру в доспехах, которая неторопливо приближается к ней. Но вместо кровавого лезвия, протягивается рука. Грубая кожа красивого красного оттенка. Она не выглядит угрожающе. Она поднимает глаза, все ещё полные испуга. И все что види - грусть.

- Ты в порядке? - на губах мужчины появляется мягкая улыбка, он хочешь чтобы она ему верила. Печаль осознания, что он пугает ее, не меньше, чем гнолл, и успокаивающая улыбка, он шепчет слова беспокойства, но все что она слышит: "Я не монстр...Не бойся..."

- Я Зевлор, - звук его имени вернул ее в реальность. Она не взяла его руку. Он был чужим, и казался ей титаном, способным, с лёгкостью сломать ее.

- Асмир... - девушка неуверенно поднялась на ноги, поправляя тунику. Оперлась на посох, сжав его по сильнее в руке, придавая себе чуть больше уверенности. Она огляделась. Войнов она в первые видела так близко. Он был диковиной, в своих чешуйчатых доспехах, и мечом, что держал словно он был частью его руки.

- Ты в порядке? - Зевлор повторил, поняв, что человек перед ним в замешательстве.

- Я не ранена. Благодарю тебя за спасение...

Ее взгляд блуждает по полю брани. Три молодых гнолла. Все убиты. Одним войном. Она не справилась с ними одна. Загнанная в угол, была бы растерзана.

- Спасибо, и тебе, за лечение, - тиффлинг улыбнулся шире. Девушка кивнула растерянно растянувшись в улыбке, которую через мгновение убрала с лица.

- Ты одна? - спросил мужчина, и тут же пожалел. Он заметил как новая знакомая отшатнулась, явно обдумывая ответ. "Видимо путешествует в одиночку, или рядом кто-то более беззащитный": пронеслось в голове Зевлора. Ему придётся осторожно проявить инициативу, если он хочет, чтобы она ему доверяла. Он убрал меч, принимая расслабленную позу:

- Я не обижу тебя, не бойся. Недалеко мы разбили лагерь, там безопасно

- Солдаты? - изумилась девушка, боясь, что Зевлор, не был единственным представителем, как изъяснялся старший друид: "безмозглых головорезов".

- Нет, - успокоил ее Зевлор, и добавил поникшим голоском, - нет, мы не войны... Беженцы.

Явное печальное положение его спутников, приободрило Асмир, хотя наличие только одного Зевлора могло поставить под угрозу ее жизнь, если бы он этого хотел. Зевлор ведет себя как друг, или даже сказать покровитель, не в его интересах проявлять враждебность, наживая на беззащитных людей врагов.

- Если вы позволите присоединиться к вам, я могу помочь, я изучала медицину... Ну и... Вообще я друид, - это была ложь, на которую девушка была готова пойти, лишь бы расположить к себе. Она знала что таланты друидов цены везде и для всех: лечение, защита, выживание, коммуникации и мудрый совет. Друид, каким бы он ни был - символ защиты и добра.

- Эти гноллы застали меня врасплох, - поспешила оправдаться Асмир, понимая что выглядит в глазах тиффлинга скорее обузой, чем ценным помощником.

- Твои медицинские таланты я оценил, - согласно кивнул мужчина, - тебе не нужно оправдываться. Мы идем во Врата Балдура, если твой путь лежит в этом направлении, нам стоит объединиться.

Девушка кивнула. Зевлор не стал расспрашивать ее ни о доме, пусть друиды обычно, редко покидают свои угодья, ни о том, зачем ей в крупнейший город Фаэруна. Видимо увидев ее беспомощност и боязливость, тиффлинг - раса, которая славится своей подозрительностью, решил, что молодая девушка не представляет угрозы. А слова о ее классе, который свято чтит каждую жизнь на свете, еще больше расположили к себе. Немного подумав не станет ли она обузой, убийца гноллов, украдкой оглядывал спасённую девушку, но принял решение, что может при нападении она не помощник, но лечение и социальная поддержка которую он получит, взяв ее в напарники, поможет избежать больших сражений.

- Иди за мной, - кивнул тиффлинг, встав в пол оборота, по направлению лагеря. Он все еще смотрел на девушку, взгляд показывал, что он уже мысленно взял на себя опеку, над ней. Но Асмир попросила его остаться:

- Мы можем забрать некоторые... Скажем трофеи с тел, их можно использовать в алхимии или выгодно продать, деньги ведь для вас лишними не будут, тем более тут недалеко растут лекарственные растения, если я их соберу, смогу сварить зелье лечения.

- Хорошая мысль, - Зевлор одобрительно улыбнулся, словно она была ребёнком, который восторженно рассказывает о своих новых учениях. Но это была лишь необходимая видимость, чтобы она пошла с ним, на деле Зевлор подумал:

"Ценный компаньон"

- Покажи в какой стороне лагерь, я приду когда, закончу.

- Мы расположились рядом с устьем реки, - указал рукой в сторону лагеря, - пройди чуть выше и сверни по каменистой дороге из леса. Я занимался патрулём, хорошо что мне удалось засечь гноллов и тебя, возможно мы сдвинемся глубже в лес, - продолжил вояка, - поэтому я останусь помочь тебе в сборах, закончим быстрее.

Девушка не хотела сбежать от него, но явно хотела его спровадить, но упрямство в этой ситуации не сыграло бы ей на руку.

- Верно... Да, - согласилась друидка, - начнем с тел... - она осторожно выудила из-за пояса небольшой костяной нож. Зевлор хмыкнул: "Упрямство друидов не позволяет использовать им обработанный металл даже в мелочах, не удивительно, что я для таких как она кажусь ошибкой..."

- Возьми, - она выбила его из размышлений, протянув свой инструмент. Мужчина не понимающе посмотрел.

- Ты силен и хорошо рубишь плоть, - пояснила, - сними шкуру со спины, я ее обработаю, выйдет жесткое покрывало, но всяко лучше чем голая земля, кости бедра и плеча, тоже пригодятся, мясо только не бери, я его... Кхм... Я соберу травы.

- Будь у нас больше времени, ты бы что с мясом сделала, ела? - взял нож в руки и сразу понял, что тот зачерован на помехи. "Живых этим ножом не получится атаковать. Как она вообще защищается?"

- Нет, сгноила - ускорила процесс разложенния, компост простым словом. Это позволит вырастить нужный ингредиент для лекарственных зелий.

- Хм, ничего не пропадёт даром. У меня есть свой нож, но если боишься что я нападу, то не стоит, если бы хотел уже убил бы тебя, или... Оставил гноллам на съедение.

- Как ты понял? Чувствуешь магию? - напряглась девушка, на его слова. Зевлор же наклонился к одному из тел, принимаясь за работу:

- Я не "безмозглый головорез"

Девушка стыдливо опустила взгляд. Лишь на мгновение ей стало неловко, что она думала так предвзято о своем спасителе, лишь потому что он защищается не привычным для нее самой способом. Затем она припомнила, что обычные фехтовальщики не сведущи в столь тонкой магии, значит она определила его класс не правильно.

- Ты жрец?

- Нет, почему ты так решила? - тиффлинг не открывался от работы, без труда освежевал труп.

- Я думала ты воин, солдат, но ты чувствителен к магии, значит жрец.

- О паладинах не слышала? - "В какой глухой роще она жила, до этого?"

Девушка закрыла глаза, осознавая насколько сглупила. Конечно он паладин. Магия и меч. Слишком хорошо владеет мечом для жреца и слишком хорошо разбирается в чарах для простого война. Паладин.

- Слышала, но не видела.

- Я скоро закончу, - без труда разрезал мысцы, поморщился от скользких звуков разрывания плоти, - довольно не привычная работа.

- Ты же убивал.

- Но не копался в останках, - заметил Зевлор своим обычным тоном, уже не мог игнорировать, что между ним и друидкой напряжение, которое девушка явно не собирается сглаживать.

Асмир сдержалась от комментария о том что всё и все когда-нибудь станут останками, к которым паладин испытывает непонятное ей отвращение. "Руки у самого в крови от убийств, а тут он решил нос воротить. Как безответственно."

- Если закончил, отойди, - наклонилась перед голой плотью гнолла, - я теперь займусь этим.

Девушка села на корточки, начиная равномерно дышать. Посох она перехватила левой рукой, а свободную погрузила в склизкие потроха, вываленные после снятия шкуры.

- М-м-м, - на ее лице появилась любовная улыбка, ей доставляло удовольствие прикасаться к некогда живым телам, - еще теплые.

У паладина пробежали мурашки от шеи до кончика хвоста, он едва сдержался, чтобы не хлестнуть им в воздухе от раздражения. Отвращения. И иррационального чувства страха, которое он испытал при виде этой сцены.

Хрупкая девушка, миловидной внешности, чьи большие, полные страха глаза только что смотрели на него, как на какое чудовище. Еще бы немного, стоило бы ему чуть надавить на нее, и он бы был уверен, что она расплачется, моля о пощаде, а был бы он человеком или эльфом, возможно кинулась в объятия, он бы был рад этому. Он думал что друиды пусь и суровые, но не жуткие. А теперь он видит, как она капается в зловонном брюхе убитого монстра, словно это было поле ароматных цветов.

Руки которые казалось способные спасать жизни, излечивать раны и усмирять боль, сейчас были испачканы кровью, втирающей запах смерти в кожу.

Губы перестали дрожать, и невольно вытянулись в улыбке, который одаривают возлюбленного, но не труп.

- Что ты делаешь? - не удержался Зевлор от вопроса, стараясь убрать из голоса нотки отвращения.

- Грибницу, - ответила девушка, и только сейчас Зевлор заметил, что пронизывающие кожу лица нити, были не венами, а корнями грибов. Они начали распространять от шеи, вниз, по телу, что скрывала одежда, но ему хватило воображения, как по нежной коже груди, словно живые распространялись споры. Тиффлинг увидел как они "побежали" по руке и вместе с кистью, скрылись в плоти.

Девушка вытащила руку и мужчине показалось, что труп дёрнулся. Сначала он списал это на то что ему показалось, во всяком случае Асмир просто могла его пошевелить, ведь она не могла же его оживить.

Друидка выпрямилась, сделала несколько шагов назад. Она все ещё внимательно наблюдала за мертвым телом. Зевлор пригляделся, вновь увидел шевеление:

- Что это?

С каждым мгновением судорога проходила по мертвой плоти все сильнее и сильнее. Теперь он понимал, что ему тогда вовсе не показалось. Труп начал двигаться. Сначала неумело, без какой либо опоры, он слегка вертелся на земле. Потом как новая шерсть, голое мясо покрыли выросшие грибы. Они лезли из глазниц, лопая стекловидное тело глаза, из ушей, зрустя хрящами, раздвигали кости грибы волной прорывались среди ребр. Шея, живот вздулись из-за чего черты так исказились, что уже не напонимали черты гнолла, теперь это был зомби.

Грибы заменили ему опору, кости которые Зевлор извлек прежде, и тело поднялось, издавая утробные звуки, остатками глотки.

- Что ты сделала! - мужчина схватил Асмир за плечо разворачивая, ее лицом к себе, - это некромантия. Как друид может использовать столь мерзкие вещи?

- Не трогай меня! - отдёрнула от себя руку тиффлинга, - я могу это объяснить если, ты готов слушать, либо мы прощаемся прямо сейчас.

Зевлор поморщился и ещё раз взглянул на грибного зомби. Тот смирно стоял, слегка покачиваясь. Грибы наконец полностью завершили стадию роста и он узнал их. "Воровское лакомство" - основной ингредиент зелья лечения. Он сам не раз собирал их будучи новобранцем в своих первых походах, но тогда они росли на земле, а не на зомби.

- Говори, кто ты на самом деле?

- Я член гильдии Голгари, - ответила девушка.

Паладин припомнил, что некогда слышал это название. Гильдия что предпочитает мертвых живым:

- Значит ты некромант.

- Нет, я друид круга Спор, мы не превращаемся в животных, как круг Луны, и не так сильны в магии как круг Земли, мы не оживляем тела, как некроманты, заточая душу в клетку подвласную магу, мы берем, то что уже умерло, и растим на нем новую жизнь. Природа в первую очередь циклична: без смерти одного невозможна жить другого. Процесс распада не менее важен, чем процесс роста, и он наша основа.

Она подошла к зомби и протянув руку сорвала свежий гриб:

- Ты убил гнолла, и дал жизнь колонии грибов, которые станут лекарством и спасут чью то жизнь. Он не умер зря, - Асмир благоговенно улыбнулась, - ты не стал убийцей благодаря этому.

- Извращенная логика, я убил, чтобы спасти тебя, - указал паладин.

Асмир раскрыла удивлённые глаза:

- Жалеешь об этом?

И опять этот страх, словно он монстр. Зевлор ответил:

- Нет, и все ещё предлагаю место в лагере, но, - он отвернулся, - держи свою странную философию при себе. Рой Голгари не все готовы принять с распростёртыми объятиями.

Девушка кивнула.

- Как только соберёшь урожай, - тыкнул когтистым пальцем в зомби, - отпустишь его гнить привычным способом.

- Да, - вновь кивнула.

Бонус: каракуля Асмир

I ask myself sometimes if Zevlor gets so annoyed that Aradin is acting like a little brat that he wants to punish him like spanking or treating Aradin like a child until Aradin can start acting his age.

Please if someone can make a fanfic about Zevlor treating Aradin like a little kid and punishing him because of how he acts and maybe Aradin accidentally calls him dad or something that would be fantastic.

Have a great day!

A Poet's Heart

Zevlor x (f)Tav [Fluff]

Tav began digging through her rucksack on her way through the Emerald Grove. She had a meeting with Commander Zevlor soon and had rushed through her noonday meal, scarfing an apple, a hunk of bread, and a few slices of cheese and cured ham. As her hand rummaged through multiple potion bottles and gold pieces, it brushed against something flexible and smooth: paper. Baffled, she carefully removed the folded sheet and opened it, looking down at the haphazard yet elegant scrawl.

Another one, she thought to herself. Tav glanced around but saw no one watching her at this moment. Carefully, she studied the words on the page and wondered who her mysterious admirer might be. Her heart melted as she considered the possibilities: Gale and Wyll were her top two contenders, as the wizard had mentioned dabbling in poetry and the duke’s son was ever a courtly gentleman, but Tav also couldn’t discount Astarion and Shadowheart, who had also grown closer to her in the past week and could be luxurious in their words when they chose to be.

Smiling to herself, she read through the note. A poem, this time. It wasn’t always a poem, sometimes it was just a short, lovely note praising her leadership, her prowess in battle, her smile, her laugh. Tav found that she rather liked the poems though, there was something very romantic about them, the author’s emotions laid bare for her to see. 

The sun does not choose the brilliance with which it shines

Nor do my beloved’s eyes;

Her lips as sweet as berry wine

Breathe onto mine with delicate sighs

Short and sweet though it was, it made her head spin with the possibilities. It was intimate, knowing; it caressed her as she mouthed the words to herself and sent her into a daydream, imagining a scene with her unknown admirer. She sighed wistfully before remembering where she was, and stuffed the note back into her bag as she continued on her way to Zevlor’s chambers.

Tav was the last to arrive, having been too caught up in her reverie to feel any real urgency around this meeting or the goblin situation in general. She smiled an apology to the Hellrider, who acknowledged her entrance with a slight nod of his head. He moved to the side slightly as Tav approached him around the side of the desk, eager to go over the map and general goblin movements. He is a very handsome man, she thought, though she tried not to allow herself to get lost within a fantasy at this moment.

As Zevlor spoke, Tav nodded along, listening intently and adding relevant information as it became pertinent. While her group had yet to engage with the goblin leaders, they had found, followed, and dispatched several small scouting parties out in the woods and near the Emerald Grove. 

Zevlor’s taloned index finger traced routes on the weathered map, stopping to mark specific locations Tav and her party had discovered the past few days. She watched him dip his quill into the inkpot and then carefully annotate the map near the bridge that spanned the small river.

Her eyes unfocused and then narrowed in with the precision of an eagle. His handwriting. It was his handwriting, she thought, shocked. Her hand shot into her bag and gently thumbed the piece of parchment she had only recently returned to its resting place. Small tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as the realization shot through her body like a bolt of lightning. Tav’s mouth trembled briefly as she looked at Zevlor's face, bent over his desk and set with a look of focus and intent. He hadn’t yet noticed that she was unwell.

“I must take my leave,” she choked out. “Please let me know if you require anything further.” He looked up to her face as she wiped away a tear and then quickly began marching toward the stone door to the commander’s chamber. As she exited, she heard him call after her, heard his footfalls rushing towards the closing door.

“Tav!”

She stopped to the right of the door, along an empty and nondescript hallway. The door to the chamber opened once more, Zevlor rushing out and hurriedly looking left and right. He breathed a sigh of relief to see her still so near, and no longer rushing away from him.

He walked to her carefully, studying her face for any signs of extreme distress or upset. As he approached and held out a hand, Tav pulled out the parchment scrap in her bag and handed it to him, her eyes shining with tears and a deep emotion that Zevlor wasn’t sure he recognized. He knew what she held, and made no move to take it from her.

“So you know,” he whispered, his head dipped and eyes looking to her while cloaked under his infernal brows. “I knew you would find out eventually, you must, and I knew I couldn’t keep up the charade forever.” He sighed heavily and stepped closer still, while Tav watched him, mouth agape, rooted to the spot where she stood. 

“You must know, you are a very special person, Tav. Your eyes melted me when they first saw fit to gaze upon my face and warm me for the first time in years. Your smile did the very same, and even caused my own lips to curl upwards for what seemed like the first time in ages. There is life in you, a spark of joy and wonder, the likes of which I could only hope to capture by being in your mere presence.”

Zevlor gently cupped Tav’s cheek in the palm of his hand as he bent his forehead to hers and rested it gently. Tav relaxed and moved a hand to his waist, sniffling gently as she tried to keep her composure.

“I am no poet, but I feel as though I have a poet’s heart since meeting you. You are all of the beauty in this world, Tav, and I have been far away for far too long. Please, before I lose all of my nerve-”

Zevlor bent his head further and brushed his lips to hers, carefully, just barely, in askance. She moved forward a step, leaning into his frame, his armor firm beneath her body. Her lips parted delicately, her breath soft against his cheek. Tav tentatively brushed her lips back against his, savoring the heat from the Hellrider’s touch. He firmly pressed his mouth to hers, drawing her as close as he could into his arms. Tav dropped her bag on the ground and brought her hands to Zevlor’s face, cupping his jaw between her fingers and holding him close to her. 

He sighed and pulled back briefly, his burning eyes boring into hers. “I have wanted to do that since you knocked Aradin out cold,” he chuckled, brushing hair away from her face.

Tav smiled up at him, arms around his neck. “Please, do not let it be the last.”

Sparkling Sunrise

Zevlor x (f)Tav, NSFW

“GO!” he screamed, breaking his attention from his foe momentarily to focus on her. “Finish this! The Hellriders will hold the line for you; quickly now, there isn’t much time!” He spun out of the way as an intellect devourer lunged at his chest. As it fell, his sword came down with brutal accuracy, slicing the perverted grey matter in two. 

Tavalia paused another heartbeat, staring after the tiefling commander. Her chest swelled with longing, silently begging him to be safe, to be here when she returned. 

A hand caught her wrist and spun her around until she was face to face with Lae’zel. “Come, now, we must end this, lest we all become ghaik.” A final glance over her shoulder showed her lover in single combat with yet another mind flayer. Things would get worse if she did not act now, if they did not step through the portal NOW.

She steadied her shoulders and her heart and plunged into the portal, joining her comrades against the Netherbrain for the Battle of Baldur’s Gate.

Grasping at the side of the dock, Tav heaved herself out of the water of the harbor, arms aching and straining with the effort. Around her, her friends were doing the same. Water sluiced down and out of her armor, remained puddled in her boots, drenched the inside of her gauntlets. Carefully, she removed her protective pieces and set them aside, shaking them dry as she went. 

Down the dock, she saw Zevlor and the rest of the Hellriders emerging from the Chionthar. She dropped her chest pieces and raced towards them, dodging around her other party members. She screamed his name as she rapidly approached, and leaped into his soggy arms.

Warm tears trailed down her cooled face as she held onto him with all of her power. Zevlor’s arms wrapped around her waist, squeezing her until she did not think she would be able to breathe. Sobs escaped her lips as she forced her hand into his water-logged hair, pressing her face against his neck and breathing hotly against his flesh.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured against her cheek, his talons stroking her back through her sopping wet shirt.”We’re here, we made it. We’re okay, it’s all okay.”

She choked back a cry as she pulled her face back to stare at him, to drink him in, to savor his face and his emotions in this moment. Tav wiped the tears away with the back of a hand before bringing it to rest against the infernal ridges on his cheek.

“We have wounded to tend to, as do you. Meet me outside the Elfsong Tavern in an hour, yes? We’ll find some time for ourselves then.” He kissed her forehead and gently pulled away, motioning that she should rejoin her own crew and tend to her friends.

**********

Tavalia gathered her spent armor and picked her way through the streets on her way to their designated meeting place. Rounding the Basilisk Gate, she saw Zevlor standing just outside the tavern steps. He raised his hand in a small form of greeting upon seeing her. Once again, she raced to him and launched herself into his arms, so happy to be back to him once more. 

He took her by the hand and led her up the steps of the Elfsong. They wound through tables and wreckage and made their way upstairs. Thankfully, the tavern hadn’t been hit too hard by fallen debris, but it was still seemingly devoid of life as customers had rushed home to be with their loved ones and seek shelter.

They fell through the doorway of the suite in a wet tangle, both still dripping water. Zevlor’s mouth crushed onto hers so hard she could feel his teeth through her lips. He slammed the door behind him and began to wrest her clinging, damp shirt from her torso. With equal fervor, Tav tugged at his clothing, ripping the already damaged shirt down the center of his chest and pulling it off his arms like a woman starved.

Cold air hit her chest as her shirt came off, and her nipples rose to attention under the stark change in temperature. “I’m all wet,” she muttered into his mouth as a frigid line of harbor water trailed from her hair and down the length of her back. Zevlor kissed Tavalia harder, then licked his tongue against her bottom lip. “Hopefully in my favorite place,” he growled as he cupped her sex in his palm. Tav moaned.

“Good girl,” he purred. Her breath caught in her throat at the words, her center becoming even warmer. He kissed and nibbled at her neck and ears while dragging her pants to the floor; at his motion, she stepped out from them and was laid bare for him to see. 

Hot hands fondled her bottom as Zevlor delicately took one of her taut nipples into his mouth and suckled gently. At once, her body rose to his and she whimpered, reveling in the feel of his tongue and its warmth on her tender and soft buds. Tav clawed at his breeches, urging them off his hips and onto the wooden boards where they were promptly punted to the other side of the room. 

Tav’s arms rose and encircled Zevlor’s neck, pulling his mouth back to hers. He was only too happy to oblige, though one hand moved from her ass to the heretofore unmolested nub on her breast. 

They moved in tandem to the bed where they fell together, hungry. “Slow down,” he chuckled, pulling his face from hers, “let me show my appreciation to the Hero of Baldur’s Gate.” He moved behind her in a spooning position, snaked his arm over her hip and gently toyed with the soft tuft of hair surrounding her sex. She was already hot and wet for him, and he grinned.

Gingerly, he worked a finger between her folds and gently teased the bud of her sex until she gasped and began rocking her hips. “There,” he cooed, “just like that. This is perfection, you are perfection. I know you think you’re ready for me but let’s just make sure, hmm?” He flicked and rubbed her until her thighs clamped shut and she called out in pleasure. Zevlor rolled her to her back, and Tav spread her knees for him.

He pressed a light kiss to her forehead, and another along her neck. The kisses began to train down her chest and torso until they began landing on her thighs, the last punctuated by a small nip of his fangs. “Do not deny me the pleasure of your taste, my love, for I have been fixated on the sensation for days. Let me know perfection.”

His tongue, hot and wet, slid between the folds of her sex and found her most sensitive point. He licked and swirled, and reality faded in and out for Tav. She was both here and not here, maybe somewhere else entirely. All she knew was pleasure, and she ground her hips into it.

No sooner had she found a rhythm than she came undone again, gasping and crying out as her body seized around her. Her thighs slammed shut against his ears, and she swore she heard him begin to purr.

Zevlor came up for air, kissing her thighs and singing her praises as she tried to recover her breath and steady her heart rate. She tried to roll to her side and bury her face into a pillow as he swiped his mouth on the back of his taloned hand, but he held her hip with a firm grip and tutted his tongue at her. “Oh no, my love, I am not done with you yet. There will be time for rest later.”

Tav’s head swirled, trying to decipher his meaning, when she once again felt his tongue at her center. She thought about pushing him away, but then she felt his fingers, first one, then two. They entered her and reached for her, beckoning her to follow him again. Almost instantaneously, she found her release again, harder than the time before. She cried out and whined, desperate for respite, desperate for air.

She was silenced with his mouth on hers. She tasted herself on his tongue, soft and gentle and feminine. Her hands tangled into his hair before pushing him back against the bed.

He was grinning like the cat that had eaten the canary. A challenge.

She accepted. She licked at the sensitive cartilage along his fiendish ears, trailed her tongue down his neck, and began planting kisses on his chest. Her fingertips trailed over his nipples and he made a sharp intake of breath as contact was made with each.

Her hands moved to the inside of his thighs, careful not to touch his arousal. Not yet. Instead, they massaged and teased, inching ever so much closer to where he desperately wanted them to be. His hips rocked gently, longing to find purchase against her body. She bent her head and carefully licked a gem of arousal from the tip. He stiffened under her, arousal almost quaking and stretched to its limits. He needed her, and badly.

She licked his shaft from base to tip with the flat of her tongue before taking him in. All of his ridges were deliciously delightful against her tongue and cheeks. Her head bobbed as she slowly took more and more of him into her mouth, relaxing her throat to allow him to experience this pleasure to the full extent of her abilities.

He groaned and threaded his fingers through her loose hair, applying a small amount of pressure but nothing that would be construed as forceful. Her hand encircled his base, gently stroking up and down as her mouth and tongue continued on their quest to his exquisite release.

“You look so pretty when you do that, perfection, my love. But if you don’t stop now, the night ends far too soon for my liking. Come up here to me, please. Yes, beautiful.”

Tavalia joined Zevlor at the head of the bed, where he promptly flipped her onto her back again. He nudged her thighs apart with his knee, his tail caressing the inside of her leg while he did so. As he positioned himself, she jutted her hips up at him impatiently, and he laughed. “What, there hasn’t been enough for you yet?”

She grinned. “With you? Never. It’s never enough.” His mouth crashed onto her as he brought his sex to hers and slowly worked it within her. She cried out and grabbed his hips as he positioned her ankles on his shoulders.

He continued to enter her. “One more, my love, can you do one more?”

Tav bit her lip and nodded, bringing her hips to his in response.

He planted his full length and began rocking into her, moaning quietly as sweat beaded on his brow. As he found his rhythm, a careful thumb found her sex and began to once again to trace delicate designs against the soft and sensitive skin. She bucked and cried out, already walking the line between pleasure and release.

“This time, with me. Can you do that, with me? Of course you can, my perfect girl.”

His hips slammed into her again and again and again, and each time he hit a deeper part of her than she knew existed. Her hips moved in time with his, of their own accord. Pressure mounted in her belly, a spring tightening and preparing for release.

And then the spring was sprung. She cried out loudly, in a voice that walked the line between pleasure and pain, gasping for breath and exalting Zevlor’s body and stamina. Immediately, he found his own release with a guttural groan, driving himself into her soft flesh and unleashing his spend into her core.

They laid together on the bed, panting, with hearts racing and relaxation seeping into their muscles. Not even three hours ago they had been battling the Absolute to save Baldur’s Gate, and now… 

Well, now they were here, together. Zevlor cradled Tavalia in his arms, a deep baritone purr emanating from his chest. His tail laced through her legs, keeping her close and refusing to let her go. “You were perfect, my love. Just perfect.”

Once again in a spooning position, they faced the window. The world of Faerun was dark, but not silent. Much work would need to be done to rebuild Baldur’s Gate and bring it back to its former glory. However, for them, it was a problem for tomorrow. For now, they had only themselves to worry about, and they stayed close, reveling in each others’ warmth and gentle breathing: reveling in life.

Pit of Despair

Zevlor x (f)Tav, NSFW

3.7K words

Beautiful visions swam behind his eyes, the promise of once again becoming a paladin, serving a higher power, being able to walk with his head held high as he marshaled his people to Baldur’s Gate, victorious. A solitary tear slid from his glowing eye, down the infernal ridge that was his cheek, before dropping to the chest of his scale mail. So enchanted was he by Her voice and the lure of becoming oathbound once again, he could not hear the screams around him. Behind him they fell, bloodied, as the cultists of the Absolute ambushed their group as their leader was enthralled, enchanted, by the idea of regaining something that was once lost to him. Something he could have without the Absolute, if only he would allow himself forgiveness. 

He would never forget the sounds of their bodies hitting the dirt as he came to, manhandled and manacled and pushed towards Moonrise Towers. Lifeless eyes stared back at him from the burgeoning shadows, brows raised high in surprise and mouths agape in screams. He whipped his head around, frantic, searching for any signs of life. If any of the tieflings had made it out, he could not see them now. Hot tears burned his eyes as he called out, begging for this to be a dream, a nightmare. But the only dream to be found was his disillusionment at once again becoming a good man.

Tav stared in horror at the rows of illithid pods. She and her not-quite-so-rag-tag group had ventured into the mindflayer colony deep underneath Moonrise, chasing Ketheric Thorm and and the Heart of the Absolute. The party had already encountered zombies, death shepherds, infernal beings, and sentient brains, along with hook horrors and a lake of blood and spare body parts. 

Glancing into the pods, she saw members of the Flaming Fist. They looked as if they were comatose; there was no movement from their bodies, save for the flutters of their eyes as they moved behind their lids. Glancing around, Tavalia saw a console near the far end of the room, beside a hallway that led farther into the depths of the colony: another nursery. Wiping sweat and blood from her brow, she approached. As she did so, she saw that more of the pods were occupied, and not just by soldiers; at least three had fully formed illithids inside, waiting for the moment they would be released.

Directly to her right, she saw him. 

Zevlor was still in his pod, eyes darting behind his heavily lashed eyelids as his lips moved almost imperceptibly. Tav’s eyes grew round as she ran towards the pod and began slamming her fists against the lid. The tactic hadn’t worked when attempting to free Shadowheart from the same predicament all those weeks ago, but Tav was frantic. 

“Zevlor!” she screamed, pounding on the pod. “ZEVLOR!”

He did not stir.

Karlach stepped up behind Tav, moving her hand to her leader’s shoulder and gently pulling her back. “It’s no use, mate,” she said, sadly. “The console is the only way, and unless you can figure out how to open only a few and not all of them, we’re going to have another fight on our hands. Not that I’m complaining,” the barbarian added, shouldering her greataxe and snarling at the nearest unresponsive mindflayer.

Tavalia blinked back her tears and looked at Karlach. “You’re right,” she muttered, sniffling her nose and clearing her throat. She touched her hand to Zevlor’s pod and whispered “I’m here, and I will have you out soon.”

Stepping away, she walked up to the console and laid her hands across it. With a thought, she knew she would be able to unlock the pods and free the prisoners from their confinement, but it would also mean activating the sleeping illithids.

“Astarion, Gale, move towards that hallway and prepare for ranged attacks. Karlach, move to the left, we’ll need to take these monsters down as they emerge. And there’s no way of knowing if the Fists or Zevlor will be able to fight,” her voice caught in her throat, “so protect and shield them from harm.” Her friends nodded in assent and positioned themselves around various points of the room. With a firm line across her lips and furrowed brows, Tav once again placed her hands on the alien technology and willed it to release the inhabitants of the pods.

With a hiss, the transparent casings cracked and raised, allowing the occupants their freedom. Immediately, the mindflayers within became aggressive and a battle ensued. Luckily for the adventuring group, the Fists and the Hellrider took only a moment to gauge their surroundings before unsheathing their weapons and leaping into the fray.

The young illithids were unencumbered and frail, all things considered. They had yet to feed, which made them less fearsome than their fully-fledged brethren. Handily, the young ones were dispatched with minimal damage taken by their adversaries. As the carnage lay around them, the group of seven took a moment to breathe before the Flaming Fists excused themselves, desperate to retreat from the mucus and organic matter that made up the hidden underground colony.

Zevlor fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around Tavalia’s waist. A sob of relief and despair escaped his throat, choked by his tongue. She dropped to the ground and flung her arms around the Hellrider’s neck, pulling him in close and whispering calmly and gently into his ear. His body shuddered as he clung to her, desperate to know that she was here and that she was real.

“Shhh,” she murmured quietly, stroking his hair, now damp with blood, and smoothing it away from his face. “Zevlor, look at me. Are you hurt?” Tav swung her pack around and began digging, searching for the health potions she knew were stashed inside. His taloned hand reached hers to stay it, pulling it from the depths.

“The others, the ambush - tell me they survived.” He pulled his face away from her shoulder to look her in the eyes.

“They found refuge. Tell me what happened, Zevlor.” Tav began to once more rummage within her bag.

“You have heard some of it, I am sure. That I froze, or broke, or some other lie that is kinder than the truth. I do not deserve this kindness,” he rasped, staring deeply into her eyes. “I… I abandoned them. They needed me, and I was not there, too caught up in delusions of grandeur. And all the while, the cult tortured them. They fought, and ran and died around me, while I imagined myself their savior.” His voice caught in his throat, suddenly feeling very heavy and round. “By the time I regained my senses, it was too late. I did not just surrender to the Absolute. For a moment, I welcomed it.” “No, no, Zevlor. It wasn’t your fault, not at all. It sounds like you were enthralled. That’s what this Absolute does. It’s not your fault.”

“It would be nice to think so. But whatever these monsters twist us into… I believe it begins in us. I won’t make excuses. I can’t make amends. But I want to help, if you’ll let me.”

Tavalia held him tightly to her body. “Of course, of course.” He pulled away from her and stood, offering his hand to help her up.

“If there are more survivors to be found,” he began, “I will find them and lead them out of this place.” 

“I could use another blade in the fight to come,” she responded, watching him closely.

“Only if you can trust it won’t be buried in your back,” he quipped. “The Absolute swayed me once before, I won’t risk it happening again. Not to you.” More tears formed in his haunted, demonic eyes. “Go. Please, let me do this much.”

Tavalia held his gaze, contemplating. She stepped up to him, moving her hand to his cheek. Forehead to forehead, she released a steady breath before gently kissing his browline. “Find them, Zevlor. Get them out of here. Take them to the Last Light Inn. The rest of the survivors are there, and our camp. If you cannot face them, do not, but please, please, wait for me there. Promise me this.” 

Zevlor hesitated, a sharp intake of his breath belying his hesitation. “I… I will wait for you. I promise.” He tilted his head slightly, taking in Tavalia’s features: her jaw was taut and worried, her forehead creased with concern, and her mouth set in a firm line. Her eyes shone in the light, magnified by the tears they held. He squeezed her hands in his for just a moment, before bobbing his head quickly and concisely and turning on his heel. As she blinked away her tears, he was gone, off to assist those still trapped within this hellscape and get them to safer ground.

“Please wait for me,” she whispered under her breath, a quiet sob escaping with the words as her tears hit the bloody, viscera-soaked ground.

****

Tav and her crew were welcomed warmly when they returned to the Last Light Inn. Ketheric Thorm had been defeated, as had the Shadow Curse, and the way to Baldur’s Gate was clear. Those looking to make the journey could expect to do so now with relative safety. 

Immediately, Tav began to scan the area for his familiar shape. Her brow furrowed as she realized he was not inside the inn, and she had not seen him upon her arrival. Panic started to set in - he had promised, he had promised!

Tav caught movement out of the corner of her eye. At the bar, Alfira made a motion and, while taking a swig of ale, pointed one taloned finger up, indicating that Tav’s quarry could be found on the second story. Tav nodded and headed for the stairs as Alfira sent a small wink her way.

Taking stock of her surroundings, Tavalia noticed that only one of the rooms left upstairs was still habitable after Marcus’ attack against Isobel. The door was mostly closed, but not latched. A faint light glowed from within.

As she strode towards the door, Tav began to unfasten her armor, readying it to doff completely. She nudged the door open with the toe of her boot. Inside, she found Zevlor, unarmored, sitting silently on the edge of the bed and staring intently at a lit candle. He did not notice her come in until she cleared her throat.

“Zevlor,” she whispered, his reverie broken. He shot off the mattress, eyes wide. 

“Tavalia!” He shouted, moving around the bed to embrace her. She held still as his powerful arms wrapped around her middle, his face burrowed snuggly into her neck. His breath was warm and moist against the delicate skin near her collar bone. She inhaled sharply and returned the hug with gusto, burying her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You’re here, you’re here,” she murmured, scarcely allowing herself to believe that he was, in fact, here at the Last Light and within her arms.

“I promised you I would be. I could not break that. I have done many things I will need to atone for, and many things left undone, but not this, never this. Not you.” His hand snaked into her hair and loosened her braid, the tendrils flowing down like silk.

“Here,” he said, as he carefully began to remove her armor. Her muscles and joints ached as the metal was pulled away, glad to be rid of such a burden. Zevlor set the pieces to the side of the room, gently removing one after another after another. “I will send for hot water and oils, you should bathe. It has been a long, tiring day, and no doubt you need to nourish your soul. I will leave you now, and I will see to it that you have all that you need before morning.”

Tav caught his wrist in her hand and held tightly. “You are all I need to nourish my soul. A bath can wait, unless you truly cannot stand to see me as I am.” 

He hesitated. “We will… compromise. I will send for hot water, but I will stay and keep you company, if you will allow. There is a privacy curtain around the tub for such occasions.”

She sighed, knowing this was the best she was likely to get, and it was a great concession on his part. She nodded, acquiescing to his request. He smiled and turned to leave, promising to return soon with fresh water and clean towels.

****

Tav allowed herself to sink into the tub, the hot water steaming around her face. She cleaned off most of the blood and sweat, idly chatting with Zevlor from behind the curtain as she had done so. He told her of the remaining stragglers at Moonrise and of getting them to Last Light. He also seemed surprised that while his homecoming was not a raucous affair, he was not turned away, and indeed, many seemed glad to know that he was ultimately alright.

While in the midst of rinsing suds from her hair, Tav’s stomach uttered an ungodly grumble. She laughed. “Zevlor, do we have anything in the way of vittles up here? My guts seem to be lodging a complaint as to their state of emptiness.”

The tiefling chuckled. “Ah, no, I do not believe there is much, but I shall fetch you something. Fruit and cheese? Sausage? Wine?”

“Yes, please,” she responded, carefully massaging a lavender oil into her legs and forearms. “I will be out when you get back, and we shall feast!” She felt him hesitate; they had both realized simultaneously that she had no clean garments in the room.

“I shall stop by your camp for some apparel, hmm?” And he shuffled to the door and gently closed it behind him. She could feel the heat of his embarrassment radiate in his wake.

Tavalia stepped out of the tub, wrapping her body in a clean towel. It was neither plush nor threadbare, but it was comfortable and up to the task of removing water from a wet body. She moved to the bed and sat on the edge, in the same space the tiefling had been when she had entered the room. The candle still glowed, and she found herself lost in its flame.

Visions of the tiefling party danced in her mind. Zevlor’s hungry eyes in the low light, his bare chest above hers, his horns between her thighs. Her teeth caught her lower lip and she sighed wantonly, remembering the pleasure that she had experienced at his hands.

Pleasure she would surely love to experience again.

Lost in thought, she did not hear the door creak open. One red, taloned hand entered, clutching a fistful of garments, shaking them gently. Tav got up and moved towards the door.

“Tavalia,” the older man’s voice reached her ears, “I have some clothing for you, and a plate of food. Please, get yourself dressed and then we shall enjoy a companionable supper.”

She grabbed his wrist, a snake shooting out from the dark at lightning speed. “I can get dressed later,” she whispered, “I would sit with you now, as I am. My forwardness worked once, I can only hope it will work again. Enter, soldier.”

A pregnant pause, before the door slowly opened and Zevlor squeezed into the room. In the hand she hadn’t seen, he grasped a bottle of wine and two glasses, while he balanced a plate with assorted cheeses, fruits, rolls, and meats on a crooked elbow. Tav shut the door as soon as he entered the rest of the way, and turned the key in the lock with a satisfying click.

She came up behind him and took the plate and her garments. The plate she set down deftly on a nightstand, and the clothing bits were tossed to the other side of the room. They landed on the floor with a quiet shuffle.

Tav dropped her towel.

By this time, Zevlor had lowered the wine and glasses to the floor, careful not to break the glass. As he turned to face her, his eyes widened and he visibly shifted from foot to foot. She approached him slowly, her long damp hair trailing down her back and swinging gently with the movement.

She came to rest in front of him and as she did so, he brought his hands to her hips. Her own hands moved to his shoulders, gently caressing the infernal ridges that were present just beneath the linen of his shirt. Her breath caught as she felt his low thrum of pleasure radiating from his chest.

“Please, I cannot.” His breath was hot and soft on her face as he spoke. “I have done nothing to be worthy of your attentions. I have betrayed those whom I had pledged to protect and save. I am not a good man, and I would not see you debase yourself with me, much as I may like to participate in such escapades.” 

She tutted her tongue softly, moving her lips to his ear. “Everyone deserves love, Zevlor. You are no exception. All of this self-pity you have for yourself, banish it. You have done nothing wrong, and nothing for which to be ashamed.” She rotated her hips in a slow motion until she was able to gently grind against his hip. “Please. I care for you. I know you must care for me, else you would not have partnered with me all those weeks ago. Let me show you how much I care, let me show you that you are a good man.”

She took his mouth in hers and kissed him deeply, raising herself to tip-toes for a better vantage. He kissed back, hard, stern; she could feel his teeth through his lips. She gasped as he gently bit her lower lip and dug his talons into her back.

Tav placed her palms against Zevlor’s chest and pushed him towards the bed, sending him backwards onto the mattress. As he laid supine, she deftly climbed up and over him until she was straddling his hips. She could feel his own arousal as surely as she could feel her own.

She bent to his neck and trailed soft kisses down the muscles and across his clavicle. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, panting. His hands roamed her back and cupped her bottom, pushing her down harder onto his lap.

Dipping her hands, she began to free the laces of his trousers. His arousal sprang free, steady and hard and ready for her. A drop of translucent dew at the tip winked at her invitingly. She drew up her hips before repositioning and lowering her sex down onto his, a fitting juncture made all the more pleasant by the sounds of their gasps and sighs.

Carefully, Tav began to rock back and forth, slowly taking all of him within her. As she sank farther onto his member, Zevlor let out a faint whine. He grabbed at her hips to steady both her and himself. She continued to rock, and he began to thrust gently into her, keeping time with her movements.

Remembering their last encounter, he pushed his thumb into her mouth and she dutifully suckled it before he moved it down to the bud of pleasure within her sex. He slowly rubbed her in time with his thrusts, and could feel her movement becoming more and more erratic. He himself was also experiencing a culmination of pleasures.

As they were reaching the brink, Tavalia bent her head to Zevlor’s ear and muttered a small incantation. Instantly, he felt his body enveloped in divine light, blessed by the gods. No; blessed by her.

This heightened his pleasure considerably, and sent him to a tipping point. He spilled himself into her, crying out in equal parts anguish and supplication. She too found her climax and shuddered, mouth agape but not breathing, not making any noises. Silent.

Finally taking in a shuddering breath, she fell to the bed beside him as they basked in a divine afterglow that lasted a few moments more. He took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth, gently kissing her fingers and snuggling his nose against them.

As their heart rates and breathing returned to normal, Tav turned towards Zevlor and crawled into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, his tail weaving around her leg in an almost possessive fashion. She stroked his chest with her fingertips, and once again a deep rumble began in his chest, softly vibrating her head as she laid upon him.

“You are everything to me, Zevlor. I do not know where I would be without you. Having known you, I never wish to part from you. Please stay with me. Please do not be so hard on yourself, on any perceived shortcomings or failings. I know you have flaws, I can see them, but you are perfect to me. Please, let me love you.”

Zevlor’s purring hiccupped briefly, then settled again into a steady rhythm. His talons stroked her hair and pushed it behind her ears. His lips danced playfully along her jaw, planting a multitude of small kisses. He was silent for a moment.

“Would that I could see myself through your eyes, my darling. I wish I could be half the man you think I am, but I will settle for being enough for you, should you allow it.”

Tav snuggled closer and adjusted herself to pull some blankets over both of their bodies. “You are the only one for me. There is no other,” she said definitively, and with such tone that it provoked no retort from him. They laid together quietly, gently caressing and kissing one another, basking in the warmth and satisfaction of holding each other once again.

Cave of Wonders

Zevlor x Tav, NSFW

Zevlor smiled to himself as he saw the others relax and enjoy their evenings. Alfira strummed idly, giggling with Lakrissa about their personal victories over the goblins and what kind of tale the bard should weave through song. Cal and Lia continued to rib Rolan, who had had perhaps too much wine and was ready to blast his siblings backward, if only to stop their hooting laughter. Bex and Danis snuggled by the fire, petting and whistling to the camp's canine companion, a scruffy white hound named Scratch.

The goblin threat had been eradicated, thanks to an intrepid band of heroic adventurers lead by a human woman names Tavalia. Gods knew there was no one else with the wherewithal to corral the rag-tag team: a Githyank warrior, The Blade of the Frontiers, a secretive cleric, a former archmage, a tiefling attack dog, and a foppish vampire. Zevlor shook his head; how she did it, he couldn't begin to fathom.

As the revelry continued, the tiefling commander took one last sip from his goblet before setting it down. He nodded in farewell to Halsin, the archdruid the adventurers had rescued from the goblin encampment, and made his way back towards the Emerald Grove, away from Tavalia's camp. Zevlor had a few more crates to finish packing before morning, and he could use a moment to himself after all of the noise and merriment of the evening's celebrations.

Zevlor quietly walked through the gate of the Grove and made his way through The Hollow towards the chambers that had been his during the refugees' stay. Rocks crunched under his boots as he strode confidently to his quarters. A few druids were up and about, but the place still felt strangely still after all the chanting had stopped. Kagha had been in league with the Shadow Druids, it had seemed, until Tavalia had talked some sense into her and the interim archdruid put an end to the Rite of Thorns.

He walked through the stone passageway, the door closing behind him. He replenished a few candles before carefully doffing his armor. Gods, but it felt good to have that weight off of his shoulders, literally and figuratively. He stretched and flexed his back, taking pleasure in the little pops and cracks that told the story of a loosening body.

Zevlor let out a soft groan. He found an empty crate and brought it to his desk, where he began to slowly and carefully pack away his many books for the next leg of their journey. The Shadow-Cursed Lands, gods, how was he ever going to -

A gentle rumble of the stone door marked the entry of another. Quickly and quietly, Zevlor set down the book he had been holding and reached for his crossbow, eyes on the entryway to his sanctum. He heard the stone door shut again, and a rustling sounds drew his attention. He deftly loaded the crossbow and positioned himself near an alcove, the perfect spot to lodge an attack should one also be aimed at him.

A shadow grew on the walls in the candlelight, soft and feminine.

"Zevlor?" A tremulous voice called out, the shadow edging closer to the commander's lair.

Zevlor almost dropped the crossbow. "Tavalia?" He asked, shocked and shaken, horrified that he could have so easily pulled the trigger against the hero of the hour had she not made her presence known.

"Yes, it's me. Did I startle you? And please, again, call me Tav. Everyone else does, there's no need to stand on ceremony." She walked slowly into the soft light of the numerous candles Zevlor had lit not but half an hour before.

She was nude, he saw, his mind not comprehending. Or, nearly nude, it appeared that she maintained some cover for the sake of modesty, but only around her hips; her breasts were bared to the world. No, not to the world: bared for him. He shook his head, still confused.

Tav's eyes adjusted to the lighting, scanning the room. When her gaze fell upon him, her lips curled into a smile that reached to her eyes, so happy was she to find him.

His body was in a state of panic, wanting to avert his gaze and drink her in all at once. Why was she here? And nearly naked? She didn't seem hurt or afraid, there should be no reason for this state of undress, unless -

The rustling. She had removed her garments after she had entered his quarters. The confidence made him wet his lips, blood pulsing in his face and below his belt. He could not deny that she was a beautiful woman, that he had not thought of what she might feel like in his arms, soft and warm and spent, but this...

She closed the gap between them, her hands alighting carefully on his shoulders. Her bare feet had been almost soundless in the dirt. She glanced up at him, eyes twinkling with the small flames that lined the room. Tav leaned into Zevlor, her mouth grazing his neck, as she whispered his name against his flesh. Small goose-pimples rose along the back of his neck.

His hands moved to her hips, and he felt them, full and round beneath his touch. Her skin was softer than he could have ever dreamed, and he was suddenly very aware of his talons, hard and sharp at the tips of his fingers. He made to move them away, but she caught him and held him to her. "No," she whispered gently, still nuzzling against his neck. "Please, stay with me. I have imagined this a thousand times, and yet nothing could compare to the here and now." The tip of her tongue delicately traced the muscles in his neck, and his breath caught in his throat.

"Tavalia, please, do not misunderstand me. You are a very beautiful woman, but I am nothing but an old, disgraced paladin. Surely there are others far more worthy to share your bed than the likes of me?"

She hummed quietly, her nose gently caressing the underside of his jaw, the hand that once held his now at his cheek. Her thumb carefully followed the ridge pattern of his cheekbone, and he could feel her smile against his skin.

"Says you," she murmured. "I can freely choose whom I have in my bed, yes, and I can confidently say that I have desired no one else since meeting you. You are strong, courageous, empathetic, and handsome. You have bewitched me, Hellrider, and I only hope that you will have me as well." The thought lingered in the air, both carefully waiting to see what the other would do.

Zevlor's heart was likely to fly out of his chest, and he had no doubt that Tavalia could feel that, just like she could no doubt feel his arousal pressed against her thigh. He sighed slowly, afraid he would not be able to follow through. He pulled his head back long enough to look at her beautiful, glowing eyes, before wrapping a hand behind her head and pulling her in for a deep, sensual kiss.

Tav brought her arms to Zevlor's neck and pressed herself into him. Her tongue darted out of her mouth and played with his bottom lip, which drove him into a deeper frenzy. Their mouths melded together, their sighs intertwined, breaths becoming one. Tav's hands moved to Zevlor's face, cradling his jaw as she drank him in.

His hands moved to her waist, and he began to carefully roll his fingers down the curve that flared into her hips and rounded, pert bottom. These undergarments would prove to be a future problem, and he pulled them down and off. He cupped her ass and lifted her up, leading her to straddle his waist with her thighs. She acquiesced, and linked her ankles together at the base of his tail. A jolt of electricity shot through him at this touch, and he moved his tail to encircle one of her calfs. Tav tightened her thighs against Zevlor's taut center, her sex wetting the front of trousers.

Her warmth spilled onto him, and he deepened his kiss. His tongue tentatively moved in askance against her lips before she opened her mouth and invited him in, sucking playfully. A low moan escaped his throat as he moved towards a wall and gently balanced Tavalia's back against the rough-hewn stone.

In one motion, he transferred her thighs from his midsection to his shoulders and fell to his knees. Tav's back scraped against the rock, but the sensation barely registered as Zevlor's breath hit the sensitive place at her center.

His hands gripping her hips, Zevlor gently nuzzled his nose into her soft, damp curls. Her breath hitched and her legs tightened in anticipation. His tongue flicked out cautiously, probing her slit to find the hard little bud tucked in between.

As he ran the flat of his tongue over her pleasure, Tav gasped with joy. He continued to lick and flick and tease, circling her nub until she was leaking with arousal and panting heavily.

Like a man starved, Zevlor continued to work his mouth against her sex. Slowly, he moved one finger to her entrance before working it inside. Tav cried out, her walls clamping down on his finger, which soon became two.

He stroked her carefully, beckoning her to come for him as he whispered sweet, loving words to her core. "My darling, let yourself go. I am here to catch you, and I would never let you fall too far."

At that, she felt the coils in her belly tighten before springing to a quick release. She cried out his name, sobbing, hands holding onto his horns, grasping to stay afloat. He held firm, his hands cupped around her bottom and lower back. Her thighs tensed so firmly around his face that he thought he was likely to be a dead man, but that there may be no better death in all of Faerûn.

He stood slowly, easing her into his arms, one arm under her knees, the other under her neck. She stared up at him, dazed.

"That's not what I came here to do," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I was meant to be worshipping at your altar, not you at mine."

"All in good time, my love," his whispered back, moving towards the various travel gear he had already packed.

"Do you think you can stand?" He asked, tentatively testing her weight on her feet. "Only for a moment, and only to make you more comfortable."

Tav nodded against his chest as he tipped her feet towards the ground. She stood on shaky legs, keeping one arm on his.

Zevlor unfurled a bedroll and straightened it out against the hard floor of the chamber. Carefully, he eased Tavalia to her back and onto the bedroll.

She sat, and began working at his shirt as he moved to sit next to her. Tugging, she pulled it free from the band of his pants and moved to pull it over his head. Zevlor stopped her.

"Please, if you don't mind. I am... I am not proud of what lies underneath, and I would not want to taint your memories of this evening with the view."

Tav looked hurt and startled. "Zevlor," she whispered, eyes large and round, "there is nothing about you, ever, that would make me turn away from you. Is it a scar? A burn?"

"My heritage," he mumbled, lifting the corner of his shirt. Underneath, Tav saw more of the infernal ridges, like the ones that marked his face and tail. Her eyes softened.

"Oh, Zevlor, no. Not in a hundred, thousand, thousand years would that ruin tonight. It doesn't ruin you, nor does it define you. Nothing about your infernal heritage alarms me, and I love you because of it, not in spite of it. My love, you are wholly beautiful to me, and I would see all of you as you have seen all of me. Besides, your heritage is as plain as your horns and tail. If that were ever to deter me, I would not be here now."

Gingerly, she helped him lift his shirt over his head, smiling briefly as the collar gets snagged on one of his horns. As he tosses the shirt to the side, Tav begins working on the laces to his pants. His arousal pushes against them, undeterred by these few moments of inaction.

Zevlor stands and finishes undoing the laces. His sex, hard and girthy, stands ready as he removes the pants and small clothes. He eases back to the bedroll where he is immediately met with a deep kiss as Tav climbs onto his thighs and straddles them.

His heat meets hers with a rush of sensation, both of them forgetting to breathe in that moment. Tav arches her back, grinding her center to his. He can feel her sex against him, still wet and inviting.

His tail wraps around one of her ankles, securing her. Her arms encircle his neck as she breathes into his ear. "Please," she begs, "please let me have you as you have had me." His hands move up her sides until they find her breasts, and he begins to massage them and gently pinch her nipples. He ducks his head to carefully pull one of her nipples into her mouth, where he gently licks and sucks until it becomes firm under his tongue.

"Dearest," he nuzzles against her neck, "if I allow that, then this night ends much too quickly for either of our likings. Besides, I do not deserve such attentions."

Tav snaps her head to face him, hips still grinding against his. "To the Hells, what do you mean! 'Deserve?' As if this is not an act of love, freely given? Lie down." Her grinding has stopped, and she lightly pushes him onto the bedroll before kissing and licking her way down his chest.

He has never been harder in his life than he is the moment she breathes against him. A liquid pearl sits at the tip of his member, and Tavalia is quick to duck her head and lick it off in one quick flash of her firm tongue. Zevlor moans, louder than he would have liked, but too ensorcelled by this beautiful creature to care.

As quickly as her tongue is there, it is gone again. Zevlor takes a moment of respite, the briefest of seconds, before his pleasure is deepened by the flat of a tongue on the underside of his member. A long, hot stroke goes up the shaft to the tip before Tav takes him into her mouth and begins working on sustaining his bliss.

He cannot think, he cannot breathe, he cannot remember his own name. He focuses on the wet heat that has engulfed him, that threatens to be his undoing. Tavalia licks and teases, suckles and massages at him until he finds himself on the edge.

Sensing the loss of control, Tav stops and pulls herself up to Zevlor's face, smashing her mouth into his with pure passion and possession. "Take me," she whispers to his lips. "Make me yours. There is nothing more I desire to be than yours."

Gently, he rotates her to her back and slides a knee between her legs. She opens easily for him, expectantly. "I would look upon your lovely face, my darling," Zevlor says, eyes full of love and lust. Tav nods and sighs, pressing her hips to his as she moves a hand down to guide him into the entrance of her core.

They both moan loudly as they become one. Zevlor thrusts slowly, cautiously, easing into her, that she may be able to take all of him. She is slick with her own love and has no trouble receiving all that he can give her.

She moves her hips in time with his, their tempos slowly increasing as their pleasure reaches a fever pitch. Tav takes his hand and wetly sucks his thumb before moving it between her legs. "Please, again, please," she whimpers, and he dutifully begins creating small circles around her hard, taut button.

A moan of pleasure escapes her lips, quickly turning into a scream of delight. He calls out as he finds his own release, pumping his spend into her until it trickles out from between them.

He watches her face and then pulls her in for a tender, delicate kiss. She returns, gently, sighing into his arms as they disentangle their legs and his tail.

They lie together on the bedroll, foreheads together, eyes heavy with love and sleep. Drowsily, Tav opens her eyes and stares up at Zevlor. A hand comes up, slow and soft, to stroke his cheek.

"We must depart in the morning. We have duties to fulfill, people who need us. But here and now, tonight, we have each other, and that is all I need." She kisses him tenderly, smiling into his lips.

"My darling, I could die now a happy man. I did not know that it would be possible for a man my age to find a love like this, so true, yet here I lie, you in my arms." He kisses her back, a strong, low purr beginning to emanate from his chest. "May your love and faith see me through the undoubtedly dark times ahead."

"And may we find each other once more in Baldur's Gate, with tasks complete and victories won, to begin a new journey, a quieter one, just the two of us."

They fall asleep, arm in arm and facing each other. Zevlor's tail drapes protectively around Tavalia's waist, and her soft snores lull him into a deeper peace than he has known in quite some time.