Part 2 because image limit I just wanna say even though I hate the Masters, I love their markings on their robes so much! Again these all belong to Sega and their respective artists on the team (I wish I knew who the artists were behind these though)
Rolan sitting in that book throne and Tav is riding him. Hard.
Let me tell you Anon: the second I laid eyes on that book throne it has been my number one thought, nay, goal for a Rolan x Tav relationship.
Especially, my Sorcerer Coren. I have all the dirty book throne thoughts. In fact, alot of my story thoughts revolve around getting them around that chair to fuck.
In my long fic I'm writing for Coren & Rolan, after the Lorroakan battle, their relationship hits a point where they either have to admit they have feelings for each other and actually verbalize whether that's something they want to pursue or let their chance slip away.
I literally can not wait to show y'all the Darcy-est fucking confession I could come up with from Rolan. Which leads to them making out on the throne with Coren grinding/dry humping the life out of that man.
Also, a while back someone posted a headcanon where they thought Rolan could not stand for the way Lorroakan basically wasted books by making them into a throne. Which I absolutely agree too. But the only way that thing is coming down for Coren is when she gets too enthusiastic riding the fuck out of Rolan like her life depended on it on the book throne that it collapses under them.
I think for Coren, the Book Throne is her version of a sex chair. It turns her on so much seeing Rolan sit in it.
The Book Throne is the altar at which Coren comes to worship Rolan's body. Which Rolan honestly deserves in her mind.
He has enormous self doubt and feels both unworthy & undeserving of the things he has at that point. So when Coren catches him around the throne she tries to get him on it. He's such a good Master of Ramazith's Tower, isn't he? Such an intelligent, powerful wizard. He deserves to relax, have a break after all he's been through? All he's accomplished? Doesn't he? She associates it solely with being intimate with Rolan. That's probably where she gives him head for the first time. She loves having the powerful Master of Ramazith's Tower needy and wanting under her on his book throne. It's the closest thing to getting freaky in public he'll allow. And while he is itching to dismantle the damn thing so he can finally organize all those tomes, every time he approaches it with the intent to tear it down a memory of him & his lover pops into his head and he suddenly decides he has better things to do and the throne can wait for another day.
Is Rolan jealous of Coren (my Tiefling Sorc) he could be.
“Oh, I’m adopted,” Coren clarified, taking another drink. She was sitting on the log where Cal and Lia had been as the camp bustled with revelry. Rolan stiffened standing a little straighter. He crossed his arms resting his hand with the goblet on his elbow. He didn’t expect that from her. Maybe the wine was getting to her, making her want to over share.
“When I was only a few years old, my parents–a drow and a half-elf–found me running away from an orphanage.” She chuckled, “My mom gave them such a talking to before they took me home!” Coren turned the goblet in her hand remembering the story the way her parents liked to tell it. “If you think Cal and Lia are a handful I have five younger siblings! It would have been four if Mama had a say, but twins run in both families…so..”
Rolan gripped his drink tightly as Coren spoke, in a way he imagined as bragging. He didn’t realize they had so much in common. How similar their situations had been, but how different their outcomes. His drink felt rancid in his gut. He was an orphan, only to be taken in and orphaned again. But not her. He had to struggle and study and earn his magic. Her’s came naturally to her and appeared effortless. She had a home. She had a family. That appeared to be alive and well. Both were born with nothing, but the world just seemed to give her everything, and he resented her for it. Rolan did not wear jealousy well and the fact that she evoked that feeling in him infuriated him further.
“So, do you know it? Rolan? Are you listening?” Coren’s face looked at him rather glumly. He had missed something.
“Sorry,” he drawled, shaking himself out of his head,“you were saying?”
“I was hoping someone that studies magic as well as you might know the Sending spell?”
This was based off the original post I made where I thought Coren would ask Rolan to send a message to her parents and what it might say. i posted that below the cut.
Rolan threw back the rest of his drink as the blue tiefling walked away, tail dragging behind her. He gripped his tankard in frustration. He didn't know Sending. As he bent to grab the bottle from the ground, Rolan noticed a folded bit of parchment. It would be an invasion of privacy to read it. He knew this. Even as he watched his fingers carefully unfold the note. Even as his eyes gently glanced over the practiced script and read the twenty-five words he couldn't help her voice.
Coren: abducted by Mindflayers. Infected with parasite. Somewhere between Baldur's Gate and Elturel. Heading to the Shadowcursed lands. Miss you. I want to go home.
A/n: I wrote this for Kimerbohwrites by request based on this headcanon of mine.
Rolan x Coren (my tiefling Storm Sorc F!Tav)
Wc: 3,600
It's stupid in love fluff, so no warning I think. well except bad grammar
⚠️NOW ON A03⚠️
Rubbing the back of his neck Dammon hummed, considering everything he could have at his disposal. Dammon mentally listed every artisan and guild trader he'd met in the Gate. His eyes roamed his shop interior and landed on a canvas covering an old bucket. He had never found a use for the material inside, but maybe…
"I have this," he said, ripping back the canvas and disturbing the dust. Both tiefling men shooed the dust from their face. Rolan waved hishand, magically cleansed the air so as not to cough. He peered down into the pail. There was some arcane essence emitting from the dark, speckled ore before him.
"And this is?" Rolan asked, arching a brow, not entirely sure what he was looking at.
"Currently? Junk. These pieces are too small to forge into any worthwhile weapon or armor." Dammon held up his hand as Rolan's face began to sneer at the word junk. "But, it is Adamantine and I think it could serve our purpose. She traded this to me and I just never had the heart to get rid of it."
Rolan regarded the chunks of highly rare, highly enchantable ore. Of course she’d somehow managed to come across such rare material. He considered everything he knew of Adamantine, its history, and innate properties. His head nodded as the possibilities revealed themselves, it wouldn't be easy, and would require their highest skills, but they could do it.
"This could work," Rolan said, more as encouragement to himself than anything else. The tieflings shared a grin. Dammon couldn't contain his excitement at the challenge before him and it manifested in a subtle wag of his tail. It was going to be perfect.
A Few Months Later
Coren nuzzled her cheek into Rolan's arm with a delightful sigh. The sun was low. Offshore a dark storm threatened to overtake the sunset. The breeze carried a chill signifying the changing of the season. The cobblestone streets heading towards Sorcerous Sundries were emptying for the day as they strolled leisurely back home. Coren looked back up at Rolan with another contented sigh. Home. Something, someone, she'd never had before. She couldn't help but squeeze his arm.
"Thank you for today. That place was delicious." Soft adoration plastered her face while she spoke to the man she loved.
"I'm glad you liked it." Rolan replied with an equally smitten smile. "Getting on the guest list was nearly impossible. I hear it's currently a three ten-day waitlist." A meager hint of smugness to his tone. He readjusted the garment bag in his arm so that he could bring his hand up to place on hers.
Coren paused with a giggle, "Oh, love, did you pull the 'Master of Ramazith's Tower' card? For me?" Her voice was riddled with teasing affection and a fiendly smile.
"I did no such thing." Rolan drawled. "I didn't need to,” he admitted. “When asked what names to put down, the moment your name left my lips, suddenly a spot at the very top of the list became available. Apparently," he continued raising a brow, "you saved the owner's niece from absconding with a vampire in the sewers, the chef's brother from a cultist, and it seems the kitchen fire elemental is very close with a mud mephit and earth elemental couple you once met at a circus." He stopped to spin the woman on his arm to face him. "Tell me, how is it you're not exhausted from being so phenomenal constantly?" He questioned bluffing exasperation. "Also, you must share your secrets for accomplishing so many miraculous feats in such little time." Gentler than his playful tone, he used the back of his hand to push one of her white streaks of her hair back behind her ear tip. She shivered, leaning into his touch, with a contented hug. Enjoying his warmth and the warmth that seemed to spread through her very being when he was near.
The blue sorceress stepped onto the air, using it to raise up until she floated to meet his eye level. Coren slid her hands up Rolan's jaw with a hum, "I suppose at the time, my two main motivations were ridding my brain of the Illithid tadpole trying to consume it and," Her blue eyes flitted to his lips, "getting my favorite wizard to admit he wanted kiss me." She smiled, "It makes it easier to push through a difficult time with a reward oriented goal in mind." Her nose crinkled playfully.
"Well," Rolan's breath ghosted her lips, "you always were an overachiever." He slid his arms around the small of her back, drawing her close. Locking his gentle, yellow starburst eyes with her icy ones he smirked "And greedy. You never seem to have enough, but it is a price I am most enthusiastic to pay-" he leaned his forehead to hers, "even if it didn't secure the safety of the Sword Coast."
Their lips met. Smiles pressed warmly. A soft gentle kiss. Heart fluttering so. If he weren't holding her, she felt as if she could float away. Very reluctantly, Coren pulled back first. Her instinct ever to seek more passion, to press forward with an inherent need to physically show the love that bubbled within her. To reassure him of her steadfast feelings. Still, she withdrew while she had the remaining wherewithal to remember they were in a public street and Rolan was publicly shy about intimacy. Though she did enjoy the little chase his lips gave hers seeking more.
As if to prove her point, the bell of a shop door opened then closed, and hasty boot steps grew closer. Coren lowered herself back to the ground and Rolan pulled back straightening his shoulders then drew his hands to smooth out his coat. Respectable in appearance once again. He looked so handsome with his longer hair pulled back. It would almost be a shame to dishevel him later.
The approaching footsteps finally drew the lover's attention away from each other long enough for Coren to immediately recognize her favorite tangerine tiefling blacksmith rushing in their direction, donning a coat.
"Dammon!" She waved. The three tieflings greeted each other. It was odd to see the blacksmith out at this hour. He was usually still wielding his hammer at his forge into the early evening. Instead his hands held a fine looking wooden box. "Did you close the forge early?" Coren asked, tilting her head inspecting the box.
Turning to look over his shoulder, almost like Dammon was checking that he did indeed close the forge properly. Satisfied that it didn't slip his mind, he turned back to the mages before him. "Oh, yeah. I'm trying to catch Lakrissa at the Elfsong." He lifted the box at the other woman's name. It was a simple rectangular box, but expertly crafted to showcase the red wood's natural beauty.
Coren's eyes went wide, "Is that for tomorrow?!" Her tail flitted around in excitement.
"Sure is," Dammon smiled sheepishly. He leaned in as if he were about to whisper a delicate secret. "Would you like a peek?"
She almost missed it. The way Dammon's blue hazel gold eyes flicked back over her shoulder up to Rolan. That was- odd. Something had just been shared between them that she was not privy to. She turned up to Rolan. His face gave nothing away. He just gently looked at her and nodded encouragingly toward Dammon's box. Coren nodded, the curiosity overwhelming her moment of suspicion.
The lid creaked open. Two daintily crafted rings of golden rose metal and pink gems lay on a bed of velvet. A pair of larger, finely detailed companion horn bands, completed the set perfectly. Gazing at them felt like hearing a love song. Coren could almost hear Alfira's singing dancing around her heart. These were perfect, like the love they represented.
"You made these, Dammon?" Coren gasped, hovering a hand over the rings as if to touch them, but worrying they were so delicate that she might break them.
Dammon cringed, "Ouch. You don't have to act so surprised."
"That's not what I meant and you know it." Coren pouted, narrowing her eyes. Behind her she could hear Rolan stifle a chuckle in his throat and batted his calf with her tail. He immediately caught her tail with his own and the two intertwined like a tether.
Distantly thunder boomed and Dammon snapped the box shut. "I'd better get going. Lakrissa will kill me if this box gets ruined." He nervously slid the box inside his coat.
Coren giggled, "We wouldn't want that."
Rolan re-laced his arm through Coren's, "We'd better be going, too. Good day, Dammon."
"See you at the wedding tomorrow. Tell Lakrissa I'll make sure this storm's past. She can expect gorgeous weather for two gorgeous brides!" Coren said, waving her friend off as he sprinted down the street.
Sorcerous Sundries was still more than a block away. And with the sky darkening quickly, they knew they'd need to use the portals there as they'd never make it to the tower on foot.
Coren's smile, however, could not have been brighter as she returned home with Rolan. He looked down at Coren, a wealth of warmth spreading through his chest. "What's got you all smiles?"
"I'm just so happy. For us. For everyone. Everything is perfect. Everyone is safe. We're together. Cal and Lia are doing great. You're the most admired wizard south of Waterdeep." Rolan scoffed at her playful jab, as she continued, "Dammon's smithing is doing well. Bex and Danis just had a baby, not to mention the success of their bakery. And Alfria and Lakrissa are finally getting married. When we all met our lives were kinda, well, shit shows. But look how far we've come," Coren was beaming, truly proud of them all. "Even Mattis and Mirkon are keeping out of trouble. I can't believe how good this feels. To have friends. To be with you." She glided up to place a kiss on Rolan's cheek. Thunder clapped over head.
"Do you think we'll make it?" Rolan peered up assessing the sky.
"No. I can feel it under my skin. It's too close." Coren tugged herself closer. "You're not afraid of a little rain now are you?"
Rolan huffed playfully. "Of course not. I just don't want to get our nice clothes wet. Or ruin your dress for tomorrow." He said lifting the bag in his other hand.
Coren produced a pout. "I'm not sure if I should take offense to that or not. You know I wouldn't let you get wet if you don't want to. I'll always be here to protect you, my love, especially from the Big Bad Evil Rain Storm."
"As it should be, my dear," he smiled warmly, pressing his lips softly to her forehead between her horns. "But that's not the point and you know it." He held out his hand. "Let me Dimension Door us to the Tower."
"Fine." She exaggerated a sigh, but tangled her fingers with his all the same. "But you know how much I like the rain. That first wave always makes me feel so powerful," she pouted over exaggerating her pillowy bottom lip.
Rolan pulled her close, resting his forehead on her's and wrapping his other arm around her back. A mischievous grin pulled at his mouth as he whispered, "In that case, my dear, let me see what I can do." He lifted her up into a kiss, but this time she pulled herself closer deepening the kiss as they disappeared from the street in an arcane flash.
Rain softly pelted the tower windows. Coren lightly skipped over the sopping wet clothes passionately thrown across the bedroom floor after being ripped from heated bodies. That was future Coren's problem. She slid into bed, handing Rolan a fresh glass of water, and seated herself beside him. Coren took a bite of leftover strawberry lemon cake she'd gathered as Rolan gulped down his drink.
"So," she continued, dusting the crumbs off Rolan's shirt that hung loosely over her smaller frame. "What was that weird look between you and Dammon earlier?" she asked, chewing another bite of sour sweet cake.
"What look?" Rolan asked, not hiding the small awkward cough of water as well as he thought.
Swallowing her snack, Coren continued, "Dammon gave you a look when we met up earlier. Like you knew something I didn't. So, 'fess up."
"As I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, there is nothing to ‘fess up.’"
She studied him for a moment. He held her gaze with his sunny sunflower eyes, but Coren sensed he was holding something back.
"No, there was definitely something weird between you two when Dammon wanted to show me the wedding rings." Rolan readjusted himself, placing his glass on his nightstand. “And since we’ve been together over a year, I think I know when you’re trying to hide something from me.”
“Oh, do you now?”
“Yes, so what has you all cagey about Alfira’s rings? Why would you and Dammon- '' A thought struck her at that moment. “Unless,” she started, more to herself than him. A flutter of excitement stirred in her stomach. “Unless there are other rings you two talk about. Are you going to ask Dammon to make rings?” Her tail curled behind her and she threw her weight forward on her arms invading his space.
Rolan’s neck tensed, he averted his gaze, and scoffed. “I don’t need to ask him to make anything. It’s already made.”
Coren bounced back on her thighs, “You had rings made for us?! Let me see!” Her tail thumped behind her and her voice burst little too loud.
“No. I had a ring made. Your ring. One. And I know the second you see it you’re going to put it on.” Coren shook her head in agreement. That’s exactly what she would do. Without a doubt. Rolan sighed, “I just haven’t found the right time to ask. I wanted the moment to be as perfect as you are.”
Coren almost groaned, “If that’s what you’re waiting for, then I’ll never see it. Just a little peek. Please.” She purred, leaning forward, “You know I never beg. Pretty please.” Her tail swished behind her.
Pinching the bridge of his nose Rolan relented. “Fine. No use keeping it from you now. But, just one look.”
Coren was vibrating with her giddiness. He knew now that she was aware of its existence, Coren would certainly spend every unsupervised moment tearing the tower apart in search of it. Might as well save himself the trouble of cleaning up the destruction in her wake. Rolan leaned over, opened the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out nothing. Clutching an empty hand he muttered a dispelling incantation. A beautiful purpleheart wooden box was revealed in his hand.
Coren gaped, “It was there the whole time!?”
“Easily concealed from the wandering eyes of a sorceress by a simple Invisibility charm.” Rolan bragged as Coren pouted, protruding her plush bottom lip, and grumbling about wishing she’d taken Volo’s eye. She thumped her tail behind her. Rolan eased the box open, revealing a single stone dark metal band.
Springing forward, Coren snatched the ring from its box and held it up to her face closely examining it. It was a simple ring, but Coren didn't mind. There was something familiar about the cold dark blue-grey metal that she couldn't quite place. The band itself was almost plain looking except for a few faint runes Coren could feel, but not really make out. She'd never seen anything like the dark center stone before, but she could sense it tugging at the magic within her.
Drawn in by the stone, Coren hadn't realized she had lined it up with her finger ready to slip it on until Rolan grabbed her hand.
“Wait,” he paused, sliding the ring out her hand. "You must be sure before you put it on."
"Why? Is it cursed?” Coren smirked. “Did you make me a cursed ring I could never take off?" she quipped.
Immediately Rolan rebutted, "Of course not. But you would be the one to wear a cursed item without a second thought."
Coren leaned in to tease. "Did you curse it so that I would never leave you? Because you were already cursed with that the moment I survived the Absolute."
"Is that so?" Rolan chuckled, a soft grin pulling up to one side. "No, it's not cursed, but it is heavily enchanted,” he stated. “Everything from the Adamantine metal to the gems, Astral Shard, and engravings were all meticulously selected for their specific arcane properties,” he explained, turning the ring over in his fingers as he did. “I wanted something that would not only look beautiful, but enhance the natural abilities of its talented wearer.” He looked at her with a cheeky smile before his brows knit together. “It will immediately attune to you once you put it on, so you must be sure.” With a wistful sigh he continued, “I only wish I could have come up with a worthy way to ask you to wear it.”
Coren arched her brow and smiled softly trying to lighten the mood, “Like, what, getting down one knee in front of the Baulderan fountain? That guy’s an asshole.”
“Ha, it had been a thought.” Rolan admitted. “I wasn't sure if it would be better to ask in the traditional Baulderian manner, or if one of the many tiefling customs would have been more appropriate. I-"
Coren slid her hand over Rolan's, "Darling, you're overthinking this. My answer would be the same regardless of the way it's done. Do what feels right for you. Don't hold yourself to the standards of others- we know they fall short of your greatness anyway.” She smirked trying to boost his ego a little before continuing, “Alfria proposed to Lakrissa in song because that's what bards do. Do what feels comfortable to you. I can't answer a question I'm never asked, but don’t doubt yourself. Because- I hope you know- there’s no doubt about my answer.” Coren's words were earnest before she looked down in his hand, “I am still going to put the ring on though."
"Wait!" Rolan said, adjusting to his knees. "One moment." His eyes frantically darted around nothing as he worked through a thought in his head. Rolan lifted his hands drawing purple arcane sigils, whispering an incantation under his breath.
The bedroom around them slowly disappeared into darkness. A deep, unnatural, pitch-filled darkness. It almost reminded Coren of the imposed darkness of the Shadows Curse, but there was no impression of evil. A sense of ease fell as Rolan's magic settled through the room like a warm blanket. The arcane nature of the spell almost made it difficult to see even as Coren strained her dark vision to make out the outline of the man in front of her. There was stillness for a moment while she felt the arcane energy in the room shift as another spell was cast in the darkness.
"Coren," Rolan breathed gently, grazing his fingers along her own until he held her hand in his. The moment he spoke movement in her peripheral drew her attention away from the direction of his voice.
Across the room deep in the darkness, a tiny mote of golden light flickered like a firefly.
"My beautiful storm. My peaceful center." Another slightly bigger green light appeared. Then a blue, and a purple. A colorful assortment of lights began to spark into life around them as Rolan spoke. "Since the moment I met you, I have called you many things. There were a few I– admittedly–regret, but the rest, you, have brought me so much joy."
The chromatic oscillation surrounding them was memorizing. Like standing in a field of dancing technicolor fireflies. Try as she might to focus on Rolan, Coren couldn't help but look around in wonder. The stars themselves didn't sparkle as bright. She recalled this enchanting feeling forming in her chest. The way her heart skipped a beat in her camp by the Grove while she watched Rolan perform for his siblings. A precursor to the magnificence engulfing her now. The longing for people that cared for her like this little family clearly cared for each other. It was breathtaking.
With a gentle squeeze to her hand, Rolan brought her back to him, he held the dark metal band over her finger. "Would you please allow me the long overdue honor of calling you my wife?" He whispered, sliding the ring onto her finger.
Bright, electric blue light crackled around the metal of the band, followed by a softer icey blue feathering. The interior of the center gem whirled like a galaxy and flickered like a storm. A warm sensation crept from Coren's finger up her arm, through her very veins, through the threads of Weave inside her. Small jagged crystals in shades of white & blue jetted up around the center shard.
The warm sensation spread through her chest like a deep, calm breath. It rippled through her body like a beating heart and the primordial elemental magic inside her beat with it. Tears silently slid down her cheek. Where once she felt the constant clawing to contain it, now she felt like it lay in the palm of her hand. Ready to wield. The magic enveloped her like a familiar embrace. It felt like power. It felt like love. Like Rolan.
“Coren,” Rolan whispered, touching his horned forehead to her’s, “are you going to give me my answer?”
If she wasn’t so damn enthralled by him right now, she knew there was a joke to make there. Stupid wizard and his enchanting displays of affection. She nodded her head and cupped his cheek in her hand.
Both?
It's Act 2 y'all. Coren did not have a good time.
“Thank you,” Cal’s gentle voice once again interjected his siblings arguing. “For saving me. And these two idiots.”
Coren turned to him. Trying to give him a side smile even though her every muscle screamed. They were safe in Last Light. And that’s all that mattered. “There's no need to thank me, Cal. It was the least I could do after–”
“And humble, too?” Lia interrupted. Coren hugged her arms tighter around her shoulders. No. She was glad they seemed to be in such high spirits after just being released from the Moonrise dungeon. But she couldn’t say her mood reflected theirs. Her head pounded. Feeling light-headed and nauseous. And her neck…
“She has no cause to be humble,” Rolan announced. The sound of his voice cut through her making her recoil. They hadn’t spoken to each other since her party stumbled upon him in the midst of the Shadow Cursed Lands. “She’s brought us back together,” Rolan professed, “a task I failed miserably at.” Coren sunk into herself more, guilt sitting uneasy in her stomach. “You went out of your way to help us, it’s only right you get something in return.” Rolan reached into his side pouch. When Coren dared to look up, to her utter disgust, saw a coin purse in Rolan’s hand. “Here,” he said thankfully, “I hope it helps.”
Bile churned within Coren. “I don't want your coin, Rolan,” she sighed. Her voice raspy and with no energy to argue with Rolan anymore. “You'll need it in Baldur's Gate anyway. Good luck with your apprenticeship. Sorry for all the trouble,” she added, turning away defeated.
“Hey, soldier,” Karlach called. As Coren’s head turned back to look over her shoulder, her hair slipped back revealing an angry purple bruise in the perfect shape of a hand around her throat. Rolan's jaw clenched. “I’ve got Halsin,” Karlach continued, “let him take a look at you.”
Coren turned to face her two approaching companions fully, leaving the siblings to stare at her back and exchange worried glances. “I'm fine, really, Karlach. There's no need to waste your spells on me, Halsin. I'll just sleep it off.”
Halsin’s brow knit with concern. “No doubt you know how to weather the worst storms, little Lightning Bug, but you are looking worse for wear. If you don’t mind my saying.” Coren nodded, she knew she looked like shit. “I think we would all feel a little better if you allowed someone to assess your injuries. At least allow me to alleviate the pain.” His large hand tenderly swept back more of her navy hair further revealing the deep bruise on her throat. Even Halsin's gentlest touch made Coren hiss in pain.
Rolan was struck with guilt, but something else knotted inside him when the large druid ran his thumb along the sorceress’ jaw.
“Serves me right for picking a fight with the Warden in her office. Turns out, I've been letting myself get rusty at close quarters combat.” Coren shrugged, waving Halsin off dismissively. “Lesson learned. Next time I feel like being choked out and tossed around by a big, angry tiefling woman, I'll ask Karlach to do it,” she forced a laugh looking up at her fiery friend. “Can I go sleep off my shame now?”
Karlach shuffled closer, “Come on, soldier, don't be like. She cracked your head on the dungeon wall. I’m surprised you're not down to one horn like me. Come on, let Halsin make sure you aren't any more scrambled than the worm has us.”
Beside Rolan, both Cal and Lia tensed. Cal leaned over to Lia, “I thought that sound was the gnome’s hammer.”
“Astarion gave me a potion. I'll live. It's fine,” Coren said flippantly, “I just really want a bath and some sleep now.”
“As you wish,” Halsin lamented. “But I would prefer you spend the night here. In one of the room’s Jahira offered while I tend to Art’s wounds.”
Coren sighed. “Fine.” She pushed past her companions as the two of them and the tiefling siblings watched her ascend to the second floor of the inn.
There was almost no wind here. No comforting up draft. Only darkness and despair. The wood of the railing of Last Light Inn’s balcony creaked beneath Coren’s feet. A second healing potion and bath had helped her body feel better, but sleep still eluded her.
Rolan was right. All of this was her fault. If she hadn’t said anything. If she had traveled with the refugees. Her people. If she hadn’t gone to the creche. If she had been with them instead of cowering away from the Shadow Curse by playing around in the Underdark. How many lives would have been spared? This was all her fault. Their deaths. Their blood, was on her hands. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Coren might have saved the few from Moonrise, but that would never–
“Zurgan!”
A hand warm gripped Coren’s wrist, jerking her off the balcony. She couldn’t catch herself and landed face first in someone’s chest wrapped in their arms.
“What in the damned Hells do you think you're doing?” Rolan gripped her shoulder’s angrily, shaking her.
Coren hissed in pain causing Rolan to release her, but not drop the accusing glare from his face.
“Nothing!” she bit.
“That didn’t look like nothing! People do not stand on balconies to do nothing!”
Coren stood there flabbergasted. “What? Did you think I would jump? Seriously? I’m not sure if I’m more offended that you thought I would jump off a shitty two story balcony or that I would be injured from a fall from a shitty two story balcony! I can Fly you dumbass,” she spat.
“Well-I,” he stammered.
Coren realized her hands were still supporting her on his chest and quickly shoved herself off him. “What the fuck do you even care? You hate me.” That probably wasn’t true and she knew it But she was so angry. And so hurt. And she could never hate him. But maybe her heart would hurt less he hated her.
“What?! No- I,” Rolan started.
“What? Like it isn’t true?” she scoffed.
“It’s not!” Rolan shot.
“Yeah, okay. You don’t have to pretend-”
Rolan growled, then threw his hands up in frustration. “You infuriating little witch! Would you just allow me to speak?”
“Why!?” Coren snapped. “What more could you possibly have to say to me, Rolan? You were right. This is all my fault. Cal and Lia were captured because of me! The other’s died! Because of ME!” She exploded. Distant sounds of thunder echoed overhead. “So you don’t have to say anything. I-” her eyes stung as she tried to hold back the tears.
For a moment, neither said anything. Rolan closed the gap between them again, slowly reaching to take her hand in his.
“But I do have something to say,” he said gently, “Something very important, you need to hear. Coren, please look at me,” Rolan tugged her hand up so she turned. “Firstly, I’m sorry. So sorry. I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise, and you helped us anyway. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Rolan,” Coren began to protest.
“No, you went out of your way to help us. I have Cal and Lia back because of you, Coren. For that, I am truly grateful.” He cupped her smaller hand in both of his. “And if my attempt at monetary thanks offended you, I meant no disrespect,” Rolan insisted. “Please forgive my earlier behavior. It -uh- it seems to have given you the impression that I hate you, and that is not the case. You are, however, insufferable.”
Coren rolled her eyes. “Well, when you put it that way,” she teased. “How could I refuse your apology?”
I haven't posted anything fic-like lately bc I'm working on some stuff. So I just want to leave this little morsel of my long boi I'm working on here:
“Wait,” Rolan gasped, abruptly pulling away from Coren's mouth as he pushed himself up from the study floor. “I wanted it to be better than this.” He spoke between breaths. “You deserve more than this. More than being made love to on the floor.”
“Oh, okay.” Coren swallowed, trying to catch her breath and clear her head enough to form words. Hoping he didn't want to stop she continued, “Do, do you not have a bed here? Would that make you feel more comfortable?” She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek.
He sighed, “Actually, there's so much work to be done that I've been sleeping in the Study. We haven't finished redecorating Lorroakan’s chambers and I can't bring myself to sleep on the bastard’s bed.”
“Ah, I see.” Swiping at the hair in her face, Coren asked desperately, “Could you maybe bring yourself to fuck his murderer through his mattress and cum all over his sheets?”
