I was tagged by the lovely @defira85, so here's another bit of Moonlit Weave that we're nowhere close to yet. Have some angst! As a treat!
Elminster had come and gone in a blur. Love had been polite enough to invite him to ease his burden in their camp while they handled some outstanding business with the githyanki creche, and now her ears were ringing and there was bile in her throat. "The orb." Gale had said simply. It echoed in her mind as she felt her fear and anger rise. Her face grew hot and her eyes stung with frustrated tears as she balled her hands into fists.
"—unleash its lethal combustion at will." She heard Elminster finish his sentence, dimly heard the Dream Visitor comment, heard Elminster begin speaking again. But none of it registered.
"You're tasking him to kill himself? What kind of monstrous notion is that?!" Love shouted, tears beginning to cloud her vision as they clung to her lashes. Gale tried to calm her but there was no quelling her rage. "She saves his life only to cast him aside? What kind of lover does that?!" She practically spat the word lover like it was a curse, hands gesturing wildly in front of her. "Redemption for what, exactly? Trying and failing to please her? He'll never be good enough, will he? All he's worth to her is that stupid orb in his chest!" She was screaming now, her tail whipping angrily behind her.
Gale and Elminster both looked at her in shock for a moment before Elminster seemed like he was about to seethe back at her. She looked between them both, eyes landing on Gale's pained expression. It broke her, and the tears began falling in earnest. "She wants you to kill yourself and you're going to do it, aren't you?" Her voice sounded suddenly so small, and Gale sucked in a breath like he'd just been burned. Without thinking, she turned on her heel and fled towards the forest.
I'm gonna tag @flamemittens again bc I'm greedy uvu
(AKA the Beach part) Also available on AO3!
(This chapter is about 3.1K words, so about double the length of the Nautiloid chapter!)
The burn radiated over her skin when she awoke, somehow very much alive despite the wreckage of the nautiloid blossoming in flames around her. Very much alive, and very much in pain. Checking herself over, she stretched her hands out in front of her, eyeing the damage. Her palms and forearms were starting to blister, and she could feel that telltale tightness on the skin from it. Grimacing, she sighed and finally sat up, taking stock of her surroundings and curling her fingers around her staff again. The pain was bearable, for now, and that would have to be enough. She needed to find a proper healer though, and soon, if she wanted to deal with these burns, and the new resident behind her eye.
She sighed, rubbing her temples. Her head ached for more than one reason now, and Lae'zel and Shadowheart were nowhere in her immediate vicinity. She could see a glimmer in the sand several paces ahead of her that seemed roughly humanoid in shape, and she grimaced. She held her breath, stepping carefully over the body of someone who looked like a fisherman that had been caught in the crash around them. The smell of blood, salt, smoke, and burnt flesh was overwhelming as she picked her way forward. The harsh light of near midday bounced off of Shadowheart's armor to leave dizzying rays of sunlight coasting through the air, catching the smoke from the nearby wreckage in an almost lazy dance.
As she watched for a moment, she noticed the one part of her armor where no light seemed to touch— no that's not quite right. The large circle of obsidian on Shadowheart's chest seemed to devour the light that touched it, leaving not even a reflection on its surface. She grimaced at it, everything in her brain telling her to avoid the woman in the sand. But she couldn't. Her training as a Selûnite told her she should kill Shadowheart where she lay; Shar threatened everything Selûne worked to build, and yet she felt only pity for the woman in front of her. Please don't make me regret this, she thought silently, kneeling on the ground and leaning to shake Shadowheart by the shoulders.
The half-elf sat up with a gasp, her eyes flying open as she startled, nearly knocking foreheads with Love. The latter sprung up to stand as quickly as she'd knelt, offering Shadowheart a hand up. For a moment they just looked at each other, shock plain on Shadowheart's features as she took the offered hand and stood. "You're alive. I'm alive. How is this possible?" She asked, bewildered as she took in the wreckage around them. It didn't seem she was actually asking Love the question; her eyes were distant, fixed on a point in the air somewhere past her head.
"Honestly, I'm not sure either. The last thing I can remember is praying as the ship was crashing, and then I woke up on the beach a little ways away from you." Neither realized they were still holding hands for a moment as Love gestured to where she'd woken up, but suddenly Shadowheart snatched her hand away as if she'd been burned. Love snapped her eyes back to look at her, bewildered, and raised her brows. Shadowheart cradled her right hand against her chest, her left covering it; her face was a confused mask, brows screwed together as she looked at her own hands. "Are you alright?" Love asked, subconsciously reaching towards the woman's hands to attempt to check the damage.
Coming back to herself, Shadowheart dropped her hands and shook her head. "Sorry, it's nothing you need concern yourself with. Just an old wound that hurts from time to time." Focusing finally on the tiefling woman in front of her her eyebrows shot up. "If anything you should be more concerned about yourself. Those burns need to be treated." A frown pulled Shadowheart's lips into a bow and her brow furrowed as she reached into herself, trying to find the magic that would mend Love's burned and blistered flesh. Love waited, a gnawing sensation in her stomach as she did. She knew Shadowheart wouldn't be able to heal this, because she hadn't been able to herself. Shadowheart let out a frustrated sigh, having come to the same conclusion. "I'm sorry, it seems it really is our little shared problem causing this drain on my abilities."
"It's fine, I can make do until we find a healer. We'll need one anyway to evict this unwanted tenant, no?" Love grinned bitterly, turning on her heel towards the water. "The… people… here along with the water make me think there must be a settlement somewhere nearby, so I think if we stick together and look around we should find help soon enough." She pointed upstream, at a small dock that had been smashed by the wreckage of the ship around them. "And that is also a good indicator that there's a settlement. After all, why else would there be a pier?"
"As sound a call as any, I'd wager." Shadowheart said, humming her affirmations. "Alright, then, we stick together. Let's go find a healer." She bent down, retrieving some of her belongings from the sand with a grimace. "Besides, the sooner we find a settlement of some kind, the sooner I can wash out all this sand." Love laughed outright at that, nodding when she was finished.
"I know what you mean, the burns aren't exactly comfortable even without all the grit digging into them." Shadowheart grimaced at the thought, sending Love a pitying look. "If we find any waterskins I call first dibs." Love added, raising an index finger with a grin. Clearly she's been through worse, Shadowheart thought, tilting her head in the affirmative as the only indication she'd been paying any attention.
After picking over the beach for any supplies, quietly praying to the gods to take care of the souls lost in the crash, and dealing with a trio of intellect devourers, Love leaned heavily against her staff, groaning. "This was much easier when there were three of us." She sighed, gesturing and humming contentedly as her healing magic settled over herself and Shadowheart in quick succession. The magic knit some cuts and scrapes back together and soothed the ache in her muscles but did not even seem to touch her burns. Shadowheart rolled her shoulders and smiled over at Love gratefully. The gash in her leg from one of the intellect devourers had knit itself cleanly back together, leaving a smear of drying blood and a torn legging the only evidence of the fight.
"I don't know, I feel like we handled that quite well just the two of us." Shadowheart said coolly, not hiding in the least that she was glad to be rid of Lae'zel's constant prickling. Love shook her head and rolled her eyes. It was obvious to her at least that traveling as a larger group would be more beneficial if they were going to continue to encounter resistance, but it seemed Shadowheart was perfectly content to keep to herself. She supposed it made sense, Shar worshippers were used to a certain degree of isolation since they required secrecy in devotion. She wondered if it was normal for Shar worshippers to wear Her symbol so prominently as Shadowheart had, or if she were wearing it because whatever mission she'd been on hadn't required her to hide. "—even listening? Hello? Toril to Love?"
Love snapped out of her musings with a deep flush on her cheeks. In the time it took her to think all of that, Shadowheart had entered her personal space and was currently waving a hand in front of her face. "Sorry! What were you saying? I was…" She searched for some excuse as Shadowheart raised a brow and retracted her hand. "Uh. I wasn't listening, I'm sorry." Love hung her head in embarrassment, the berry red of her cheeks still flushed with a deeper amaranth.
"Yes I did catch that, actually." Shadowheart said, stepping out of her space and rolling her eyes. "As I was saying, I found some dead goblins over here. We should check them for supplies, but knowing there are goblins near means we need to keep our heads on a swivel." She walked away as she spoke, and Love made to follow, but winced when Shadowheart fixed her with a piercing stare on the word 'swivel.' Love smiled sheepishly at her, walking quickly to catch up. It didn't take long for her to become distracted again, however; a consequence of what was surely a concussion.
She broke off from Shadowheart, her curiosity piqued by the brightly swirling purple and black mark in the cliff face a bit off the path. "Oh come on, what did I just say!" Shadowheart groaned, having noticed the other's absence. Love heard her approaching quickly, but Shadowheart was not quick enough to stop the former from reaching out to touchthe obviously dangerous magic. "What are you thinki— AH?!" An arm shot out of the center of the magic, blindly flailing.
"A hand? Anyone?" A man's voice, muffled and distant, shouted as his hand flailed again, trying for purchase. Love looked on, puzzled and determined. Shadowheart shifted behind her, torn between saying they should leave and wanting to help. In the end she resigned herself to just staying silent, allowing Love to do what she would. The mark on her hand stung but she just rubbed it absently with the other. Love had leaned her staff against the cliff, one hand outstretched towards the magic problem in front of them with the other on her chin.
"Ah! I've got it! This is a dimension door!" Love cheered triumphantly, putting both hands out now and spreading her fingers. "So if I just…" She trailed off, biting her lower lip and focusing. She was trying to stabilize the magic in front of her, at least enough for the man trapped inside to free himself. Dimension Door should have shunted him out on its own, though; this is odd, she mused. Perhaps he'll know what went wrong once he's out.
"Whatever you're doing is working wonders! A quick little pull should do the trick!" The man trapped in magic praised. She listened, clasping his outstretched hand in both of hers, digging her heels into the dirt as she tugged. Her stance wasn't quite solid enough to take the weight of the man who practically flew out of the portal and she squeaked as he landed on top of her, thankful that he'd caught himself before they could knock their heads together.
Oh, Love thought, a bit dumbstruck. This is… too big a coincidence. Gale of Waterdeep had just tumbled out of a portal and landed on top of her. She blinked up at him as he groaned, pushing himself away from her and up to his feet. He held a hand out— the same that had been sticking out of the portal a moment before —and helped her to stand.
"Hello! I'm Gale, of Waterdeep." He shook the hand he still held and released it, offering his hand to Shadowheart to shake as well. She did not take it, instead eyeing him suspiciously. The smile on his face faltered for a moment before he turned his attention back to the tiefling woman in front of him. She was openly staring at him, her mouth slightly open, and Gale was altogether unsure what to make of her. But gods, she is pretty, he thought, a slight flush crossing his cheeks. "Apologies, I'm usually better at this." He continued, embarrassment and confusion touching his tone briefly.
"Better at not wasting the time of passing travelers, you mean?" Shadowheart quipped, arms folded over her chest. Love blinked, the other woman's voice snapping her out of her thoughts. Her jaw snapped shut and she rounded on Shadowheart. She was fully taken-aback at the half-elf's audacity, and she was about to make it known.
"You're certainly one to talk, Shadowheart. I recall quite clearly you demanding help aboard the nautiloid, my and Lae'zel's time be damned." She started, her tail was flicking behind her in agitation as she spoke, and the color in her cheeks was rising again. Shadowheart stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, startled, before she shot Love a scowl of her own.
Before she could reply, however, Gale cut in, attempting to diffuse the situation. "Ah, you were on the nautiloid! I thought I remembered seeing you while I was trapped in one of those blasted pods. Am I safe in assuming then that you, too, were the recipients of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region?" The visceral description had its desired effect, jarring the two women out of their conflict almost immediately as they both grimaced at his choice of words.
"Wow, I couldn't have phrased it more repugnantly myself." Shadowheart replied coolly, huffing and turning away from both of them, stalking towards the path they'd come from. She decided a better use of her time would be to pick through the goblins on the path as they'd originally intended in the first place. It certainly had nothing to do with her feeling hurt or frustrated. Definitely not.
"No use sugarcoating it, is there?" Gale replied under his breath, eyeing Shadowheart's back warily. He shook his head and sighed, turning a bright smile back to Love as she relaxed her shoulders and turned back to him as well. She eyed him curiously, head tilted to one side, noting that his smile did not quite seem to meet his eyes. His smile faltered for a moment as he wondered if she could see through him, but he leaned forward a bit and continued speaking to attempt to hide it. "You don't happen to be a cleric by any chance, do you? A doctor? Surgeon? Uncannily adroit with a knitting needle?" He gestured some kind of stitching motion at the mention of a knitting needle, which made Love let out a small puff of a laugh.
"Adroit enough to know that's not how you'd use a knitting needle, but no. Acolyte, I am, cleric, I am not. I am a warlock, but my healing is… unfortunately rather limited at the moment." Love shook her head gently and shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "Shadowheart is a cleric, but she herself is on the hunt for a healer, so I think it's a safe bet that she's not able to help with our, uh. Tenant." She grimaced again, swearing she felt the tadpole wriggle in her head like it knew she was talking about it. Love glanced back to Shadowheart for a moment, chewing her bottom lip in thought.
She knew from their meeting on the nautiloid that Shadowheart and Lae'zel both had had their abilities greatly reduced, like her own were, but she wondered to what extent. Even if she'd been at her best, would Shadowheart have been able to remove the tadpoles? Was there such a person who could? She knew, at the very least, that if they didn't, it would mean their ends. She hadn't studied mindflayers in enough depth to know the full specifics, but she knew enough to know that these tadpoles were their spawn, and their means of reproduction. If she didn't find some way to deal with it soon, the creature would devour her. It certainly didn't help matters that her head felt simultaneously like it was on fire and like it was filled with cotton. Her thoughts were sluggish and muddled, and she was desparately fighting her urge to sleep.
Gale shifted his weight in front of her and the movement caught her eye. It wasn't until he cleared his throat that she realized she'd been staring at him again as she thought. Her face flushed slightly and she blinked a few times. "Sorry! Along with our shared problem, I seem to have… quite the concussion. A piece of debris from the ship struck me as it was going down, so I'm… pretty easily… um…" She fumbled for the words she wanted, fighting the sluggish feeling in her mind. "Ugh. It's been hard to maintain my…" She waved her arms around herself to attempt to get her point across and Gale nodded. His apparent understanding made a bright smile cross her features in relief.
"Your concentration?" He supplied gently, exhaling a small laugh through his nose when the woman before him put her fist in her hand in exultation. Love nodded, smiling brightly at him. He was struck, again, by how pretty she was and cleared his throat in an attempt to push the thought away. "Right. Well I've got wits enough for us both, I imagine. Allow me to accompany you, and I'll make sure you don't regret it." He accentuated his words with a flourish and a small bow, and she laughed in response.
"Well I can hardly turn you down; I was planning to extend the invitation for you to accompany us myself, after all." Love smiled again, and stuck a hand out for him to shake. "I realize I didn't properly introduce myself earlier. I'm Love. Love Brightwater. And my prickly companion over there is Shadowheart." Gale shook her hand and beamed at the easy acceptance, and this time, it almost reached his eyes. His smile turned into a hesitant, almost apprehensive look when Shadowheart appeared behind Love's shoulder, arms crossed and a foot tapping.
"If you're both finished exchanging pleasantries, I have a worm that needs dealt with." Shadowheart spoke coolly, but she inclined her head to Gale by way of greeting. He supposed that, for now, that was probably the kindest he could expect her to be. Love huffed at her, however, and Shadowheart sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "So the wizard is joining us, then?"
"Yes, he is, I think he'll be of tremendous help." Love said it matter-of-factly, and Gale beamed again. Shadowheart sighed again but nodded her assent. "Right then. With that settled, should we investigate the crash a bit more? We might be able to find out more about our circumstances or maybe more survivors. I think the more people on our side the better, personally."
Shadowheart bristled a bit at the latter statement but just quietly grumbled to herself about the maneuvaribility of smaller parties or some such and let it go. It seemed to Love that she didn't feel it was worth another fight, so she turned on her heel and went back the way they'd come.
Thinking way too much about Gale and quiet affection.
Prior to meeting him, he spent a year alone in self imposed isolation with only his cat, and before that, a relationship with an intangible goddess who doesn’t seem the type to be gently affectionate. He also tells you he had very few friends.
He’s used to big romantic gestures. He’ll read you poetry and canonically literally magics stars into the sky for you. To try to impress you. Because he knows how to do that, how to perform to earn love, earn praise.
What he doesn’t know how to do is accept affection that’s everyday and simple. Running your hands through his hair soothingly just because. Bringing him tea, making it precisely the way he likes it. Holding hands, leaning against him, settling your head in his lap as he reads. Caring for him when he’s sick. Without asking anything of him, without there being a reason. That would undo him, I think.
It’s been so long since he’s just been gently cared for without needing to earn it.
Have this snippet from something a few chapters in! <3
I'm tagging @defira85 (even though I know it's Thursday for you now shhhh)
“I want to show you something. Come with me?” She asked simply, turning slightly in the direction of the woods and holding her hand out. Her nerves almost got the better of her when he hesitated, his brows knitting together as he thought for a moment.
“My… condition is unfortunately rather volatile.” Gale started carefully, “I fear too much… excitement could lead to… unintended consequences.” He gave her an almost pained smile when she turned back to him, wide-eyed. “Go, indulge in the frivolities, they're good for the heart. And mine will be all the lighter for knowing you're enjoying yourself.”
“What?” Love asked, dumbfounded. Realization struck her a moment later and her face burned hot. “No, um. I just want to talk with you somewhere more private. Somewhere quiet.” She said in a rush, nervously wringing her hands together in front of her. Her tail swished behind her when she set her shoulders, giving away her nerves. “I… I won’t take no for an answer. There’s a bottle of Arkhen's Hoard with our names on it, and if you don’t come with me, I’ll just have to drink it alone.” She crossed her arms and closed her eyes, feigning a pout she used often when she was younger.
At his puff of laughter, she opened an eye and looked at him. Gale shook his head, an amused smile on his face. “You’d really rather spend the night whiling away the hours talking to me than… indulge with someone else?” He asked, a hand subconsciously touching the orb in his chest, uncertainty painting his features even as he smiled at her. At her wordless nod and the extension of her hand, he sighed and offered his arm. “You are stubborn, aren’t you?”
Love woke aboard the nautiloid, frantically looking around and struggling against her restraints. To her right, she locked eyes with… a Gith woman? She was thrashing as much as she could until the mindflayer in the room with them used some sort of telekinesis or maybe a hold person spell to still her movements, limiting her to mere twitches. Love watched in horror as some sort of worm with teeth was inserted into the Gith woman's eye, redoubling her efforts to break free. Unfortunately, a few moments later, the same binding power was placed on her and she was unable to fight off the same unwelcome addition to her skull. Searing pain shot through her as the creature burrowed into her brain, chewing and snapping nerves. If she screamed, she didn't hear it, blacking out from the pain, body going limp as she was released from the binding hold.
When Love woke again, the nautiloid was rocketing through some sort of mountain range, pursued by dragons. One such beast stuck its face into the room they were in and exhaled, flames billowing from its jaws as it roared. Love was paralyzed again, this time in fear— sweating, hyperventilating, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. Again, her memories, now a decade old, slammed to the forefront of her mind and she squeezed her eyes shut against them. No, no, not now! Not now, I need to find a way out! The one part of her mind that was still coherent screamed at her.
Opening her eyes again, fresh determination pulling her brows together, she slammed her body forward at the same time the pod opened on its own. She flew out, crashing onto the floor and just barely catching herself before her face hit the ground. It was a small mercy that the gith woman had apparently gotten out ahead of her and didn't see her embarrassing tumble. Pulling herself upright, Love glanced around the room, attempting to find her staff. She still had her armor on, another small blessing, but she wouldn't get very far without her focus.
Slowly, she searched the room, hauling herself up to another floor and avoiding the bits of flaming debris where they'd fallen. She used the advantage of height to sweep her eyes across her surroundings, locating her driftwood staff near a table on the other side of the level she was on with ease. Huffing, Love made her way to it, sighing from relief when she wrapped her hands around it. Normally, her magic was always ready at the surface, humming in her veins and ready to be tapped at any moment, so long as she held her staff. But now, for some reason, she barely felt a tingle in her fingertips. A spike of anxiety lanced through her, rooting her to the spot for a moment.
Hearing another screech of metal being torn and feeling the rock of the ship as it crashed into what she could only assume was one of the dragons she'd seen, Love hunched her shoulders and squeezed her eyes closed, her breath escaping her in quick, short bursts. Her heart hammered in her ears, and panic gripped her like a frozen hand around her heart. It was all she could do to open her eyes, staring wide at her hands gripping her staff. How am I supposed to deal with this on my own? Where is my magic? Selûne wouldn't abandon me here… right? Another crash and lurch sent her tumbling forward and out of her thoughts as she used her staff to catch her balance. "It doesn't matter. I have to make it out of this." She said aloud to herself, shaking her head swiftly in an attempt to clear the rising panic. The ice around her heart was still present, but she inhaled slowly and breathed out, gripping her staff again and scowling.
She stood straight again, hopping down to the floor below and reexamining her surroundings. The only exit out of this… chamber seemed to be the odd, fleshy looking door poised next to some sort of glowing, blue, tentacle… thing. Hesitantly, she put an arm toward it and grimaced when it spun open. She wasn't sure what it was made of, but she definitely hated it. The further into the ship she ventured, the more she realized just how organic it was, and just how dangerously it was flying.
We are here, Love heard in her mind, the voice layered in several timbres and rattling around her skull. We are trapped! Help Us. It… spoke again into her mind, and she could feel its panic. The hand of ice clenched around her heart once more and her breath caught in her throat. She looked around wildly for the source of the voice, eyes wide as she gripped her staff tighter. There was some sort of platform in the center of the room with another tentacled device attached to a pedestal of sorts, and she stepped onto it warily. As she wondered about the device and how it moved, it lurched upwards. When she got to the upper level, she saw what looked to be a man, slack jawed and eyes rolling, lying on a reclined chair.
"What in the world…?" She wondered aloud, stepping tentatively forward. As she approached, the open skull of the man greeted her, sending another bolt of ice through her veins. "Um, hello? How do I help you?" She asked, reaching for her healing magic and feeling it pool in her fingers, heavy and warm.
Release Us! The voice in her mind chimed, seemingly thrilled at her presence. We must get to the helm, it insisted. Love got the impression it thought she knew what it knew, and she wasn't certain if she should correct it or not. She could tell, at the very least, that whatever was speaking to her was most certainly not the man in front of her. It took her a moment before it clicked into place. She was communicating with an Intellect Devourer. Without even thinking, the healing magic pooling in her fingers turned into a white-hot burst of radiant energy as she took a step back and flung her hand forward. The Sacred Flame leapt from her outstretched hand and exploded into the creature, killing it before it could finish hatching. Love ran for the lift, willing it to let her down and scrunching her face when it lowered down.
As soon as she was able, she sprinted forward, out of the room and into what open air she could see. Being greeted by Avernus was not what she expected. She stood, dumbstruck, for a beat too long as the gith woman from before leapt over and landed in front of her. Before the threat could register, their minds were colliding, visions of battles and the woman's capture bouncing through her skull.
"You are no thrall. Vlaakith blesses me this day!" The woman said, settling the massive sword she carried on her back, posture easing slightly. "Come, we make for the helm. We can address the matter of a cure once we're back on the material plane." She spoke authoritatively, turning her back to Love swiftly.
"Al…right? Um, I'm Love. Pleasure to meet you." She said, moving to follow as the gith woman stalked forward.
"Chk." The woman seemed to scoff, shaking her head slightly. "Lae'zel." She said simply, an almost sarcastic satisfied? palpable in her tone. Love rolled the name around in her mind, nodding at the silent question.
"Tell me, Lae'zel," Love began, testing her pronunciation of the name. "Are those gith outside here for you?" She finished, curiosity clear in her voice.
"No. I am not worth such effort yet." Again, Lae'zel spoke simply, this time almost dismissively, as they pressed forward. Ahead of them were three imps, making short work of what looked to Love like other kidnapping victims. Lae'zel drew her sword again, charging forward and slashing one out of the air as it bolted towards her.
"Oh we're fighting!" Love said, eyes wide as she hurled an Eldritch Blast at another imp that was flying to try an flank the woman ahead of her.
"Only if you value your life!" Lae'zel called back, grunting and spinning out of the way as the third imp hurled fire at her. The battle was over in a matter of moments, and Love let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"Okay so there's definitely no time to catch my breath." Love mumbled, hurrying ahead and trying not to think about what, exactly, she was climbing. If not for the ache in her skull, she would almost be able to consider this entire thing a nightmare. Unfortunately, she had the luxury of knowing this was real, and she was stuck trying to think her way out of this mess. While they walked, now silent, her mind drifted back to Waterdeep. Was she the only person who'd been captured? Had everyone else managed to run away or hide in time? Had the prodigal Wizard of Waterdeep been the reason the nautiloid had left Waterdeep in the first place? The knot in her stomach told her otherwise, but her thoughts were interrupted by the shouting of a woman in the next room.
"You! Get me out of this damned thing!" Love heard as rushed into the next room. Her eyes connected with the dark-haired woman's in the pod. She crossed the small room quickly, standing in front of the pod. Chewing her lower lip for a moment, she considered the woman in the pod. Love, a Selûnite priest aspirant, knew a Sharran when she saw one. No doubt, this woman would know her as a Selûnite just as quickly, and yet… Something about her piqued her curiosity, and in this situation it seemed only fitting that she take all the allies she could get.
"We have no time for stragglers, we must get to the helm." Lae'zel said behind her, aggitation clear in her tone. Love waved her away, shooting her a pointed look. Lae'zel huffed in response, crossing her arms over her chest. "Fine, but make it quick."
Love nodded, looking back up at the trapped woman. "I'm going to try and find a way to get you out of there, bear with me, okay?" She shouted, uncertain how soundproof the pods were from the interior. A quick scan of the room revealed some sort of panel to the right of the pod and two exits into other parts of the ship. Examining the control panel revealed it needed some sort of key, a rectangular slot on its surface that matched the shape of some of the other tablets she'd seen scattered around the ship her only clue. "Lae'zel, could you check the room ahead of us for anything shaped like this?" Love asked, pointing at the groove.
Lae'zel huffed again, clearly annoyed, but obeyed. Her sword was drawn as she entered the indicated room, and when she returned, tablet in hand, it was coated in fresh blood. Love raised her brows in alarm, but Lae'zel only shook her head in response. Clearly whatever it was had been disposed of, so Love schooled a look of appreciation onto her face. Without warning, Lae'zel tossed the piece of stone to her, and she fumbled it for a moment before unceremoniously slamming it into the console. After a moment more of fiddling with it, and an odd tingling in her brain from where her new skullmate had made its home, the pod sprung open, and the woman in it leapt out.
"At last. Thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin. Thank you—" She's interrupted by a sickening lurch, her mind crashing into Love's thanks to the tadpoles in their heads. The sensation is almost enough to cause Love to vomit, and she doubles over as if she might. The feeling is over almost as quickly as it started, and she sucks in a breath at the relief. The past of the woman is shrouded, but her most immediate thought makes Love roll her eyes. "You keep dangerous company." The woman said, eyeing Lae'zel warily.
"Yes, well, dangerous company's what you need in a fight, is that a problem for you?" Love said back, voice dripping with fake concern and no small measure of venom as she crossed her arms. As a tiefling she'd experienced her own fair share of discrimination at the hands of the un-horned. Dangerous, liar, thief, to name a few oft repeated insults. The Sharran woman in front of her set her shoulders, but the quick flash of mild embarrassment that crossed her face wasn't lost on Love.
"Fair point, no, I don't have a problem. There's certain to be plenty of fighting ahead. Allow me to join you? We can watch each other's backs while we get off this wretched ship." She said, eyes passing between Lae'zel, who was sneering, and Love.
"Well yes, of course you can join us. I'm Love, this is Lae'zel." Love stuck a hand out as she spoke, hoping to cement some civility between them. The woman took it and shook, nodding at them both. It seemed she knew better than to extend the same social nicety towards Lae'zel, only really offering her a longer glance and a quirked brow.
"Shadowheart." She replied simply. Love had to supress a laugh, opting to hide it behind a sudden fake coughing fit. Shadowheart? Really? A touch obvious there, no? She thought to herself instead. Thankfully for her, Shadowheart was otherwise occupied, retrieving her things from the pod before they continued on.
And continue on they did, first into a hallway where Shadowheart and Lae'zel were immediately at each others' throats, then into the helm. Getting the two to work together to get through the ensuing fight was like trying to get two feral cats to behave. Shadowheart refused to heal Lae'zel, and Lae'zel rushed ahead of them both and refused to protect either of them. She was of singular focus, and a little thing like allies wasn't going to distract her from the task at hand, no matter how battered she became because of her refusal to stay in bloody range of Love's healing.
"Lae'zel! You're pressing too far ahead! I can't reach you with my magic!" An exasperated Love shouted, knocking an imp aside with her quarterstaff as Shadowheart stepped in front of her to take on a hellboar that was barreling in her direction.
"Then catch up! I will not be slowed because of something as needless as your worry." Lae'zel spat, slashing down at a hellboar of her own. A frustrated sound, halfway between a scream and a growl, left Love's throat at this. Lae'zel and Shadowheart were testing her patience, dancing on her last nerve as they were. She ran past Shadowheart, still fighting the hellboar, and flung her celestial healing magic at Lae'zel, moments before the gith woman left her range again. The telltale pink of her magic encased her, shimmering in the air before being absorbed. Lae'zel shook her left arm out, winding it up unconsciously as a gash from an imp's sickle knit itself back together. Needless or not, the healing was convenient and she sneered inwardly at the thought before rocketing forward again.
As Lae'zel kept moving, Love turned her attention to Shadowheart and the hellboar. Shadowheart had her mace between the thing's tusks and was attempting to haul it onto its side, pulling and twisting and wincing as it spat fire at her. Love, frustrated, flung an eldritch blast at it, and gave a smug smile when it crumpled and went limp, releasing Shadowheart's mace in the process. "My thanks, damned thing…" Shadowheart trailed off, racing forward just as Lae'zel had. Love threw a hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated beyond measure. Annoyed, she brought up the rear, flinging eldritch blasts and healing when necessary.
Surprisingly, Love was the one who ended up at the helm itself, Lae'zel and Shadowheart both occuppied with the new swarm of imps and devils that flooded through the torn open walls of the ship. She hesitated, feeling overwhelmed at the alien equipment before her. Without knowing how or why, she put her quarterstaff in its sling on her back and put her hands forward, grabbing two tentacles and putting them together.
Before she could continue, the world exploded around her. A dragon's head was in the room, fire exploding out of its mouth. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as she felt the ship stutter, stall, stop in middair. She and everything else were pressed, hard, into the floor for a brief moment before the gravity shifted. The ship was now falling out of the sky, and at the abrupt shift in altitude and speed, she and everything else aboard were flung into the air. She lunged for the console in front of her, gripping the edge of it so hard she felt one of her nails bend at the pressure. All at once, the dragon's flames reached her flesh, she grabbed the latched tentacles and pulled back. An image of her childhood forest home entered her mind and she heard the tear of space around them as the ship was teleported out of the Hells.
A piece of wreckage knocked her loose from her grip on the console and she was slammed into the wall, the wind knocked out of her as her back met metal. She clenched her eyes shut, knowing that at this point, her survival was fully in the hands of the gods. Selûne please guide this descent somewhere safe, take us into your hands and place us gently on solid ground—
Once again, she was unconscious, another piece of wreckage from the ship flying and hitting her in the temple as she prayed. Her body went limp as the ship continued to shake itself apart in its wild, much too rapid, descent towards the earth.
Here it is!! The full prologue for the multi-chapter fic I'm writing! Introducing: Moonlit Weave
Tags: Gale/F!Tav, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Fluff, Eventual Smut
Also available on AO3!
Prologue
As Love Brightwater, a seemingly normal tiefling woman, wove her way through the streets of Waterdeep towards her home, she paused, as she often did, to look up at the wizard’s tower that had long been a curiosity to her. She’d heard plenty of rumors about the mage who lived there. Rumors that he was a Chosen of Mystra, a powerful archmage, that he’d graduated from the prestigious Black Staff Academy, and more recently that he’d locked himself in his tower and forbade all visitors from entry.
As she looked up today, she caught a glimpse of the man himself, Gale of Waterdeep, leaning against the rail of his terrace and gazing out at the sea. She couldn’t make out much from where she stood, but something about the scene made her heart pang with sadness for him. She wasn’t sure why, but he had the air of a man witnessing his own eulogy.
Shaking the thought away, she continued towards home, shuffling through her satchel for her keys. While her head was bowed, something blocked out the sun. Suddenly, the world erupted in screams. Her breath caught in her throat, distant memories crashing to the surface as she shoved her way into her home. A dragon? Here? She thought, the front door shaking the frame as she slammed it shut. Most people would stay indoors during a dragon attack, hide, pray maybe. Love Brightwater was not most people.
Moving quickly, she tossed her satchel aside and ran to her bedroom, pulling open doors and drawers to her wardrobe and dresser. It had been a long time since she’d had to fight, but she’d be damned if she let her home burn (again) without trying. As quickly as she could, she yanked on her armor pieces, buckling belts and tying things swiftly in place. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. Without sparing herself a glance, she rushed back out into the streets, grabbing her staff on the way and finally looking up at what was blocking the sun.
That’s not a dragon. She barely had time to be surprised before a tentacle from the looming nautiloid swung in her direction. She attempted to cast Etherealness and slip into the Ethereal Plane but wasn’t quite fast enough, being caught before the incantation could fall from her lips. As she lost consciousness, her eyes drifted towards the tower that loomed over the bay, hoping desperately that the prodigy she’d heard so much about would be able to save her, Save everyone.
Please take this lil snippet of the beginning of a multi-chapter fic I'm writing. <3
(image text under the cut!)
As Love Brightwater, a seemingly normal tiefling woman, wove her way through the streets of Waterdeep towards her home, she paused, as she often did, to look up at the wizard’s tower that had long been a curiosity to her. She’d heard plenty of rumors about the mage who lived there. Rumors that he was a Chosen of Mystra, a powerful archmage, that he’d graduated from the prestigious Black Staff Academy, and more recently that he’d locked himself in his tower and forbade all visitors from entry.
As she looked up today, she caught a glimpse of the man himself, Gale of Waterdeep, leaning against the rail of his terrace and gazing out at the sea. She couldn’t make out much from where she stood, but something about the scene made her heart pang with sadness for him. She wasn’t sure why, but he had the air of a man witnessing his own eulogy.
I love how Gortash complains that Orin is insane and wants to kill everything in sight, yet seems to think The Dark Urge was different?
Supposing he isn't just saying this to manipulate you out of ripping his face off (a theory I enjoy quite a bit), he commends you for being calculated and controlled and knowing when to pick a fight. He says things like "Orin only cares for blood" and "I want to lead this city to glory, not scorch its earth" like he's selling you something.
Gort, do you even realize your former partner dreams of a blood red sky with not a single cockroach left alive to witness it? I feel like you don't.
From Orin's perspective, Durge was a mindless, bloodthirsty animal who literally wanted to kill everything indiscriminately. Sarevok also alludes to your "primal" urges.
So... what gives? Did Durge hide their true nature around Gortash because they wanted to impress him? Because it worked.
Was it all manipulation to gain his trust? Or were they so knotted in his chords that they forged a new self image, separate from Bhaal? Is that why they prayed for their father's forgiveness, promising that one day, they would finally stop resisting and win the game / end the world for Him?
Was that new, troublesome ego the one that they woke up with on the nautiloid after everything else had been lost?
Was the Dark Urge learning to resist Bhaal the result of a crush gone horribly right?
Poor Orin is just trying to live up to Durge's expectations and fill their shoes. But no matter how skillfully she kills, Gortash doesn't treat her with the same respect as her predecessor. Because he remembers a very different person than she does. One who changed for him.
Literally woke up from a fever dream and had to write this. That NSFW Durgetash I mentioned.
No plot here, just smut.
Female named Durge (Zoella)
Warnings?: PiV, rough, vague consent. Hate sex???
Enver groaned as he fucked into her, clamping his gauntleted hand around her face, squeezing her cheeks and pushing her mouth into a distorted shape.
Even as she moaned, she seethed, digging her own nails into the meat of his thighs hard enough to draw small welts of blood. He grunted, snatching her hands in his free one and shoving them over her head. He slammed his hips forward, using his grip on her face to anchor himself, drawing blood himself as the claws on his fingers dug into the soft flesh there.
Zoella sucked in a hissing gasp at the change and wrapped her legs tighter around the man above her, digging her heels into the space just above his ass. Enver removed his hand from her face in response, instead using it to grab her hip hard enough to bruise, pulling out to the head and slamming back into her. The action earned him a choked moan, and he groaned in response.
"You're still mine, aren't you? You know it, too" He dropped down to murmur into her ear, setting a brutal pace that left the woman beneath him a panting mess, breath coming out in what seemed to be one continuous moan, broken only by the bouncing caused by his thrusts as he sheathed himself inside her to the hilt with every one.
"F-" Zoella moaned again, flexing her hands against his grip on them. "Fuck you, Enver." She growled out, finally, before breaking into another keening moan on the last syllable of his name as he bit down on her earlobe.
Enver released his grip on her hands, using his thumb to rub and circle her clit as he felt his own climax threatening. Her newly freed hands knotted in his hair almost immediately, tugging hard. "Ah! Fuck!" Zoella cried out, her back arching as he pinched her clit.
He inhaled the scent of her and kissed at her neck, his head firmly locked in place by her grip on his hair. He sucked and bit at the skin, leaving marks he knew she'd hate. Gods, he'd missed her. He'd thought the woman beneath him had softened, changed, but the way she raged under him now, her walls clamping down on his cock as he pounded into her, he knew she was still the same woman he'd loved.
He felt her walls flutter around him, her legs tensing and causing her heels to dig in harder and he grunted. Her hands had weakened their hold on him as her panting breaths and gasped moans indicated the nearness of her climax-- the fourth she'd had at his brutal hands this night.
Zoella whined at the loss of his hand on her clit, her growl cut off with another loud moan when he moved, forcing her legs back and pushing them until her knees were beside her head. Without warning, he picked up the intensity of his thrusts, pulling out to the head and quickly slamming back into her, fucking her as deep as he could and grinding his cock into the spot he knew would make her vision go white.
"Fuckfuckfuck--" She cried out, hands fisting in sheets and pillows as her toes curled. Another snap of his hips and she was done, hurtling over the edge of her climax like jumping off a cliff. Her walls clamped hard around his cock and he groaned while her mouth opened in a silent scream, his pace becoming sloppy and fast as he chased his own release. He pulled out of her mere seconds before with a filthy wet pop, his cum coating her in hot, thick ribbons as he moaned, letting go of her legs and falling to her side.
"UGH." Zoella let out, disgusted at the mess he'd made of her.
"Clean yourself up, dear, you've a sister to kill." He waved a clawed hand at her as he turned away, dismissing her as she fumed. "If you can walk, that is." His dark chuckle made her scoff, magic washing her clean as she dressed, irritated.
"The next time I see you will be to gut you, Enver, dear." She mocked, striding to the window she'd climbed into earlier this evening. His only response was a snort, which made her rage flare again. She drew the hood up on her cloak and dropped out into the night, vowing to herself that her words would be true. She would not end up here a third time.
Starting off this blog with a tiny Durgetash snippet I couldn't get out of my head of my Durge Zoella re-meeting Gortash.
Sfw, might write something more NSFW another time. Pls enjoy the first thing I've written in like a century.
Quick as lightning, Zoella has a dagger under Enver’s chin, tip pressed lightly to the skin.
“Give me one good reason not to kill you where you stand.” She seethed. She was hot with anger, and yet Enver Gortash’s eyes betrayed no fear. Something else flashed in them, and before she had time to react, he’d pulled the dagger away and smashed their lips together. His other arm snaked easily around her waist and her cry of alarm was muffled in his mouth.
Confused, her body reacted before she could think, something forgotten stirring at the edges of her shattered mind. Her free hand gripped his coat and pulled him closer, a leg moving up to hook around his waist.
Her mind only caught up to her at the sound of Astarion’s loud throat clear. She detangled herself, Gortash releasing her with a wicked grin on his face.
“I tolerate Orin. But you?” He gestures, raking his eyes up and down her form. “Oh, I liked you.”
amandla
stormborns
yousharknotpass
areudirty
titsay
