The Wager [Gortash x F!Tav Gift Work]
Read on AO3 or under the cut.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Gortash/Female Tav
Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, First Kiss, Mutual Pining
Word Count: 2921
Summary: The palace staff are sick of waiting for Tav and Gortash to get together, so they decide to take matters into their own hands.
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I realized I never posted this here! This was a Christmas gift for my favorite person @bearhugsandshrugs as part of our Discord Server's Secret Santa. I wanted to do something cute and sweet I hope this fulfills both those things! Enjoy!
It had been driving everyone at the palace crazy.
The longing gazes, the flirtatious body language, the teasing.
It was so incredibly, painfully obvious that the Archduke and his new co-ruler - the woman who had helped him save Baldur’s Gate - shared a mutual attraction. And yet, they wouldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Even early on, there were signs. These two weren’t exactly subtle.
For example: One of the first dinner parties the two held after the defeat of the Netherbrain. An elegant soiree with only the most elite members of Baldur’s Gate’s high society invited. Tav had complained and complained about every aspect of the event’s planning. Clearly, she didn’t come from nobility, though her staff appreciated her candor.
“Ridiculous!” She’d shouted out at one point during the fitting for her gown, “Why can’t I wear trousers?” She’d been placed in a claustrophobic mess of blue silk and taffeta, with a lacy black collar that grazed the bottom of her jawbone and sleeves that hung over her fingers and draped down to the floor. “Because, madam,” the tailor began apologetically, choosing his words with caution. The Archduke was ruthless, and this new woman was an unknown quantity. But if the gossip he’d heard buzzing around was true and the Archduke liked this woman, he had no doubt she was as pitiless and cruel as he was. “The Archduke has requested that you be dressed as extravagantly as possible, so the nobility give you the respect that you so greatly deserve.” Tav stiffened, and the tailor bowed his head low, prepared to take a verbal beating at the implication that she wasn’t already respected. Instead, she released a huff. “Fine. I suppose Archduke Gortash,” her tone took on a mocking quality when she spoke his title, “knows the nobility better than I do. And if looking like a cupcake for one night will get them to respect me, I can tolerate it.” She crossed her arms as the tailor let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “But please, can you do something about this collar? It’s itchy.”
At the party that night, Tav had been seated next to the Archduke, with both at the head of a specially-modified wide banquet table that Gortash had designed as a way of emphasizing their partnership: they were equals who worked closely alongside one another. No one was superior– they were unified in all things. That was what the world needed to know.
For her part, Tav was grateful to be seated next to him. For all his scheming and manipulations, Gortash had never been anything but honest with her, and so, though likely ill-advised, she trusted him completely. Plus, he wasn't bad to look at either; she couldn’t stop stealing glances in his direction. He wasn’t the most traditionally handsome man, but there was something she found so ruggedly attractive about him, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment whenever her eyes dragged over his stubbled chin. She only dared to gaze lower, at his broad, powerful chest, when she believed no one was watching.
But of course, someone always was watching. The staff had taken to betting on each of their interactions: would they flirt? Would they touch? Would they finally fucking kiss already??
Whoever won that bet would walk away with enough gold for a week’s vacation.
At one point during the party, they all thought it was finally going to happen. During the transition from dinner to dessert, Tav, still not quite used to the formality of these types of gatherings, fumbled with the tiny spoon that was placed in front of her for the sorbet being served. She reached for it, and it slipped through her fingers, clattering to the floor. The noise rang out through the room, and for one humiliating moment, Tav was sure everyone had heard her mistake. Overcome with embarrassment, she dropped her head underneath the table, searching for the tiny metallic object. She spotted it after a quick second, and reached out for it, only to be intercepted by a hand shrouded in shining gold.
Tav froze, her eyes slowly raising to meet the piercing, deep brown eyes of the Archduke. A playful smile crossed his features, and he raised his eyebrows. “Lose something?” He asked quietly, the tension between them palpable. Their faces were mere centimeters apart, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face when he spoke, stealing her own air away with each word. “I…uh…” Her chest tightened, made even worse by the inflexibilty of the fabrics that she wore. Although she’d been presenting herself with humor and confidence all night, she felt so out of her element when so close to Gortash. “A spoon and your words– you’re two for two. Don’t go losing anything else or we may have to do some reputation management.” He winked, sending an electric shock through Tav’s entire body before placing the spoon into her waiting hand.
Their bare skin touched for the briefest of moments, and Tav sucked in air. It was such a tiny amount of contact, and yet it felt like a dam beginning to crack, no longer able to hold back angry floodwaters.
But then it was over. Gortash sat back up, followed a second later by Tav, who stashed the spoon in the folds of her dress before sitting back up. Something inexplicable had compelled her to keep it, and though it may not have been a logical action, she always trusted her instincts.
The staff betting pool remained open.
One of the core rules the staff had set when they started all this wagering was that no one involved in the bet could meddle. But not everyone was willing to put their money in, and those staffers were free to involve themselves as they saw fit. Most of them left it alone, finding the whole thing inane, but a small contingent decided to help things along.
The plan was simple: they would arrange an extra meeting between the Archduke and Tav. Gortash’s assistant would tell him Tav had requested it, while Tav’s assistant (tricked into participation,) would tell Tav that Gortash had made the request. Meanwhile, the palace chefs, sworn to secrecy, would be asked to prepare a romantic dinner for two in the meeting chamber. Then, it was just a matter of leaving the two of them alone for a while and hoping for the best.
Getting both parties to agree was easy enough; it seemed the two were eager to spend as much time together as possible. On the night, Tav’s ladies-in-waiting even managed to get her into a lovely dress, telling her that there had been an issue with the laundry that resulted in the dress being her only clean piece of clothing. While Tav had her suspicions (for example, she’d had several days’ worth of clean clothing in her closet only just the other day, all of which was now conveniently missing,) she went along with it without fuss, secretly liking the idea of wearing something so pretty in the presence of the Archduke.
Gortash, meanwhile, had already worked out what was going on. He was no fool– he’d noticed the way his assistant’s eyes had averted when he asked for more details about this meeting. And the way that, over the last several weeks, many of the palace’s staff members seemed tense with excitement whenever he and Tav had any sort of casual interaction. At first it had irritated him; who were they to assume anything about his relationship with his co-ruler, or to put them in such an awkward position? He should have them all fired and executed for good measure.
And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The idea of being alone with her– completely alone, was appealing. He’d noticed how he’d unwittingly started flirting with Tav, with the behavior coming to a head at their recent dinner party. He was an excellent flirt, and it was a skill that had helped him rise through the ranks of the nobility in order to achieve his current station. But it felt too forward with Tav, and it made him uncomfortable. There was something about Tav that made him want more than just flirting; she haunted his dreams at night. He even occasionally found himself sketching various aspects of her form when he was bored during meetings. But he couldn’t be sure she felt the same way, and he didn’t want to put her in an awkward position if it turned out that she didn’t. While manipulation and scheming were his stock in trade, he didn't want that to be part of his dynamic with Tav. He needed her to trust him if they were going to make this rulership work.
Of course, she seemed like an open book, especially with how flustered she’d gotten over something as small as a spoon. But she was also a bard, and he knew well they could be masters of manipulation. How could he be certain?
For all his skill at reading people, she was an enigma.
When Tav arrived at their ‘meeting’ that night, Enver was already in the room, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out the nearby window. The room itself made it clear what was going on almost immediately: a dozen candles bathed the space in warm, atmospheric light, and the typical large meeting table had been shoved aside, replaced by a small square table set for two, with a sparkling silver candelabra and flowers decorating the center. Chairs were placed on either side of the table, facing each other, and a bottle of wine rested in an ice bucket nearby.
Tav, clad in a pale yellow dress cut low across her bust, took in the scene in front of her and inhaled through her mouth. What was he trying to accomplish with this, she wondered to herself before letting out a low whistle, stepping towards the table and picking up the bottle of wine. “Am I so boring that you need to drink to get through our meetings now?”
Enver chuckled, turning away from the night sky to face her. What he saw held him fast where he stood: She looked stunning. Her luscious brown hair was pulled back into braided curls, and the dress she wore flattered every curve she had. He’d spent countless nights imagining those curves bouncing on his-
Gortash cleared his throat. “Your presence alone is more than enough to keep me engaged, I assure you.”
Tav closed the distance between them, bottle of wine in hand. “Is that so? What's all this, then? Some sort of power play? Wine and dine me to trick me into agreeing to whatever atrocity you're about to propose?” She looked up at him, matching his arrogance with her own. At least momentarily, until she realized that his chest, fully visible through his mislaced shirt, was staring her right in the face. Being several inches shorter than he was, she only reached the bottom of his nose when standing next to him. The moment suddenly felt very intimate.
Luckily, Enver broke the silence.
“It seems we've been had. The staff are trying to play matchmaker.”
“ What ?”
Tav brought a hand to her mouth in shock, but the pieces started to put themselves together in her mind. The laundry. The sudden evening meeting. The giggles and knowing looks.
Stalking back over to the table, she dropped into one of the chairs, bottle of wine still in hand.
“Gods. Of course.”
Gortash followed her over to the table, but didn't sit, instead choosing to pace nearby. “I'm surprised you didn't work it out. Finally prove you have something to back up all that confidence of yours.”
Tav glowered up at him. “Me? Aren't you the one always claiming to be the smartest man in Baldur's Gate? Bane's chosen? It seems a scheme like this would be child’s play for you to ferret out.”
Tav's face burned red hot. She couldn't believe this was happening. It was humiliating. Not only was she alone with Archduke Enver Gortash, but apparently the entire palace knew that she'd be longing for exactly this. Had she really been so obvious?
Enver ignored the question, grabbing the bottle of wine from Tav's hand and pulling the cork out. “Perhaps we should play along. Give them a show. Plus, why let an exquisite meal go to waste?”
Red liquid filled the two glasses on the table, and after pouring a generous amount, Gortash handed one over to Tav, who took it without complaint. “To forging new alliances,” the Archduke raised his glass as he sat down, tilting his chin toward Tav with a cocky smirk before taking a sip.
Dinner proceeded mostly uneventfully, with Tav and Gortash drinking and exchanging barbs throughout. The staff made themselves scarce, only entering the room to deliver the next course and removing the previous, though they always seemed to linger, trying to listen in on what was going on. By the time dessert arrived, sheathed under a singular opaque silver dome, the conversation had taken on a decidedly more flirtatious tone. The wine was doing its job.
“...I will have to ensure you visit the botanical gardens one of these days, it truly is one of the Gate's finest attractions. Perhaps it will inspire you to write songs about something other than your adventures. You can't ride that wave forever, you know.”
Tav was increasingly confused. The Archduke had a way of spinning compliments and insults into a singular fabric of words, and while her mind knew she should be offended, her heart found it compelling. Why was he so gods damned attractive? All she could do was strike back. Unfortunately the buzzing warmth from the wine made her words twist in ways she didn't intend.
“Bold of you to say considering you're riding me to keep your title.”
Enver raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I'm riding you? And here I thought it would be the other way around.”
Mouth dropping open, the warmth under Tav's skin turned to fire, reaching the tips of her ears. “I meant that…I mean.” She sighed, lowering her face until her forehead was pressing against the table, which blessedly cooled her skin. She had no comeback this time. “Let's just get dessert over with so we can both leave.”
What Tav found under that dome shouldn't have surprised her. And yet, the sorbet staring back at her still managed exactly that.
But the thing that made Tav gasp wasn't the sorbet. It was the singular tiny spoon resting next to the dish, the same tiny spoon she'd spirited away from that dinner party weeks ago, no doubt swiped from the jewelry box where she'd been keeping it safe. Rendered momentarily speechless, she rose, backing away from the table. She felt suddenly naked, and the humiliation was too much to bear.
“I can't do this.” The need to get out of this situation carried her towards the door in a staggering drunken panic. But just as she reached for the brassy knob, a large, firm hand closed around her upper arm, stopping her. Enver.
“You forgot something.” His voice was low. Turning to face Gortash, her eyes wandered to the object he held in his other hand. Shining in the candlelight was the spoon. Tav considered whether to reach for it or just leave. But with the Archduke still holding her bare arm, her heart was racing. Her thoughts were muddled. This was the most physical contact they'd had. And though she was embarrassed and uncomfortable, she couldn't deny she wanted more.
Still, the presence of the spoon was humiliating enough that she reached out to snatch it from him, if only to eliminate the reminder of how poorly she'd apparently hidden her feelings.
But he wouldn't let her have it, instead holding it away from her when she reached out. While he was now sure of her feelings, it didn't mean he didn't want to have his fun with her. Bringing his eyes to meet hers intensely, he dropped the spoon, which landed on the rug silently.
The seconds ticked by after the spoon hit the floor. Tav made no motion to collect it, too lost in her own head, whether she should or shouldn't take advantage of this opportunity. Was this seriously happening? What if she was reading this all wrong? Was this really a chance worth taking?
Fate intervened as a staff member, oblivious to the orchestrated scheme, sought the Archduke in the midst of a minor emergency. The door swung open abruptly, propelling Tav directly into Gortash's waiting embrace. In that moment of unexpected closeness, their eyes locked, and the world faded away, leaving only the anticipation of a passionate first kiss.
As their eyes met in the aftermath of the door's impromptu intervention, an electric spark ignited between Tav and Gortash. Slowly, as if drawn by an invisible force, they closed the gap between them. The world hushed, and time seemed to linger as their lips met in a tender yet fiery kiss—a collision of longing and shared desire that spoke volumes, sealing the unspoken connection that had silently blossomed between them ever since the moment they met.
In the midst of their passionate embrace, the fervor of their kiss drowned out the celebratory shout of “YES!” that echoed through the corridors. The bet was won. And so were their respective hearts.
