bakerstreet | Sweeter the fruits

[He smiles again, and this time there's a spark of amusement there. It could be taken in a backhanded way, her not blaming him for being hard on himself. Instead, he finds it refreshing.] How old were you? I was thirteen when I joined the Hellriders, and one of the youngest ever to take the Oath.

[Maybe youth is an excuse for the way he was drawn in. A child may give themselves wholeheartedly to a cause they don't fully understand. But he thought he did.

He reaches out to her, a little hesitant, but if allowed, he'll take her hand and thread his fingers through hers.] Maybe it isn't us at all, then. Maybe it's just the timing. The world around us in flux, flinging one disaster after another into our faces. How can we know what we are in the midst of all this?

What can we do but cling together and hope?

[ Allowing it is easy when she happens to seek out that warmth, with the same flutter in her stomach as the first time. She hasn't had another heat since, but her body still remembers - and maybe her heart remembers, too.

She takes his hand and squeezes. ] Maybe eight, maybe nine. I've had twenty-five years' worth of time to atone, or change my sneaky ways, and instead I just...leaned in.

[ Her gaze drops to their hands, following the path of her thumb caressing down his thumb, one knuckle at a time. She glances up at him from under pale eyelashes, quickly. ] Are you sure, Zevlor? You're a virtuous - well, I mean, you have more virtues than me, for sure, and I... [ A soft breath. ] I've been hungry for something soft, and for hope, for longer than this journey, for longer than the tadpole and the illithids and the Absolute shit. If you tell me to cling, I might never let go.

There are so many things in this world worse than being a thief. [He brings her hand to his lips, kissing the back lightly.] Even if I were in a place to judge, and I'm not, I would tell you the same.

[The Hellriders were called to keep the peace, and sometimes that meant imprisoning thieves and breaking up guild activities, even using violence when other means failed. But there were always monstrosities and fiends to fight at the same time. Assassins, cultists, political violence...

And that was before the horrors of Avernus.] You leaned in, you say. But when presented with other tieflings in danger, you risked your life for them. You didn't have to. It might have been easier to use the goblin hordes to achieve your goals, but I don't think the thought ever seriously crossed your mind.

[He blinks at her, mildly confused by her assessment of him. Virtuous? That is, he supposes, a term often associated with a paladin. It's just not the word he would have expected, somehow, even at his best.] Virtue is a funny thing, isn't it? People invoke it to describe someone or something as...exalted. Purer than what surrounds them. But thinking of oneself like that is a short road to becoming an utter asshole.

The greatest virtue, I think, is the drive to reach out to the people around you, and help them open the door to their better selves. With you, I feel worthy.

[Soft. Such a simple wish shouldn't feel like an arrow through his heart. The flicker of his eyes brightens, though uncertainty is written all over his face again.] Do you really see that in me? Something soft? Hope?

[ She leans backwards, her free hand on the ground behind her, the hand he has kisses still in his larger hand, stretched out. It's very romantic.

So of course she breaks the romanticism with a low chuckle. ] I mean - don't misunderstand, I know you're capable of being hard. [Pause for eyebrow raise. Pun intended.] And rough around the edges.

[ Her hand squeezes his again, and she pushes herself to sit up straight again, and leans in a bit. ] But I also ... I know what I feel, around you. You ground me, somehow, and I - don't want to let that go. It's strong stuff, finding hope for the future in the middle of all this.

[He was being so very sincere, and her tease takes him by surprise as a consequence. He snorts with amusement and rolls his eyes good-naturedly.] I think of myself--thought of myself--as a soldier. For life, no less. There is no such thing as retirement as a Hellrider.

[They were, in fact, expected to accept a final mission as they aged out of usefulness. Go out in a blaze of glory. He wasn't worried. He had a few decades in him before it became an issue. Still, knowing you'll die violently makes you a poor choice for family life.

Which is why he's looking at her the way he is. For the first time it's occurred to him that in rebuilding his identity, he has the opportunity to include things that were denied to him before. No, he doesn't want to retire now, not while there's still work, but the option exists.

A paradigm shift.] Hells. I wasn't even looking for hope for the future. Not this kind, anyway.

[He's aware he's staring at her a little now, with something like wonderment. After a moment he gives himself a little shake and clears his throat, sheepish.]

Well. There's no question we're sexually compatible. It's a wonder we didn't burn the whole Grove down together. On top of that, you did save my life, in case you'd forgotten.

[That's more than enough for something serious. The only question is what happens when they're no longer fighting for their lives and the lives of those around them.] I don't know what I'm like when I'm not the Hellrider Commander. When the battle is over. But...if you're willing to take a chance and stay with me while I work that out...

[ She would be lying if she said sexual compatibility is truly all she cares about. It isn't. But maybe, hells below, maybe she wants the chance to be soft and hopeful as well.

Either when the dust settles, or before.

Which is why, blurted out is, ] Come with me. Into the city. I - unless you're pleased here.

[ But - could he be? The other refugees are barred access (another thing she'll try to fix) and there's a contingent of them who believes that Zevlor was a coward in Reithwin. ]

Or at least think about it. You don't - you don't need to come on the little quests with me, but there's a shapeshifting murderess out and about turning into people I love and kidnapping them to twist my arm into fighting her to the death or something and I'm - I'm -

[ She's admitting, implicitly, that's he's one of those people.

She takes her arm away and wrings both hands in her lap, unsure what else to say. ]

Ah - you could. It's your choice.

[Gods help them both if they weren't more than the sum of their pheromones. There had to have been underlying attraction when they met, else they wouldn't have fallen into bed so hard. (Bed, loosely speaking. It was a table, as he recalls, and a great deal of recovery time on the floor.) He is certain he sees courage in her, fire, and enough kindness underlying that to cut through the cynicism her early life could have left her.

Truthfully neither of them knows much about the other, but--what they do know, they like. If it were a normal situation, it would be enough for a tentative courtship, perhaps. Since it's not a normal situation, since they're facing enslavement and death, they should probably take what comfort they can, and run.

He glances down at his own lap, taking a breath.] There is less I can do here than I hoped. I can try to make sure they're fed, leave them gold, but most of them have no desire to see me. Insisting they hear me out would only hurt them.

Can't wait to hear what Rolan has to say, if anything. His tongue has always had a razor's edge. [It can't be helped. Zevlor failed them, the consequences are his alone to suffer. Suffice to say he is neither pleased nor comfortable here.

However, this is also the point at which Ea may get to learn that despite his general intelligence, Zevlor is an idiot about things on occasion. When she says her bit about people she loves at risk, what he hears is not I care about you and I want you close to keep you safe. He hears: I'm in constant danger and I could use the backup. For good or for ill, just that's enough to win him over.] I still fear what happens if the Absolute gets Her claws into me again. I hesitate to let you rely on me. But, close as She is, that's like to be a risk you encounter with everyone in this city, save perhaps your companions.

I need to know you can handle yourself if I turn on you. Give me that assurance, and I'm yours.

[ There is no way in the world that she'd do what he's insinuating - if he turned on her, brain invaded by the Absolute, Ea would absolutely not put him down. She'd sooner cut off a hand, and then where would they both be without her hands to guide them there?

No, if the Absolute were to control any of her ragtag group of friends and found family, Zevlor included, they'd all be remarkably fucked. Screwed. End of the world.

But that's the reason she keeps the Emperor under the impression that they're allied. That's why she relies on the protection the Astral Prism offers her, and those around her. And that's why he should come with.

Zevlor's intelligence might be high, but she's hoping he's not insightful enough to pick up on this lie: ] I can handle myself against anything that bitch brain throws at me.

[In fairness, he didn't say to kill him, per se. Just to handle him, which could mean incapacitating him in some other way. Still, he is exactly the sort of self-sacrificing lunatic who would insist on being killed rather than allowed to wander around being danger to others, so her conclusion with respect to his meaning is completely warranted. Is that hypocritical of him? He certainly wasn't about to insist on her or her companions dying simply because they have a tadpole in their heads. He has double standards, and usually he puts himself on the wrong end of them.

He has some inkling of the Astral Prism's existence, though no idea why it protects them. He hasn't asked. He assumes if he needs to know, she'll tell him. He also assumes its protection won't extend to him even if he's in her company, but if it does, that's a pleasant surprise and his concerns assuaged.

There's a lot of nuance here, and for once in his life he opts to take what she says at face value, rather than wading through it to look for the little glimmers of fear he carries within himself. He smiles at her response, then laughs, pleased by the tough talk. It's very much the sort of thing his Hellrider companions would have said once upon a time, and that puts him at ease.]

I can't argue that point. You've clearly got it on the run. And I'd hate to miss all the fun and excitement you're about to have.

All right. I'm with you, Ea, whatever happens from here.

[ There is a swell of relief and bright happiness that he's said yes. Was she expecting him to say a respectful no? Maybe.

He'll come to understand, in time, that Ea never expects people to want to follow her, or stick around. That she's grown so used to them leaving in the three plus decades she's been alive that she contents herself with crumbs of affection when and where she gets them.

It's never a demand.

Even when she turns to face his side, drawing one foot under her to perch up on it like a bird, even when she grins and says, ]

I'm going to kiss you now.

[ It's not a demand. ] Alright.

[There is a point at which refusing to associate with people for their own good becomes performative, a matter of penance, and while Zevlor is open to as much penance as he needs to perform, now isn't the time. There is a battle ongoing, and he can't sit it out. She knows him, knows the risks. At the moment, there may be no one else in the city who knows him as well as her, and maybe that's a sad thought, because while they certainly established a passionate bond, they haven't been close for long.

If they win this one, maybe they'll get a chance to remedy that.

She says she's going to kiss him, and he smiles, warm despite the prickling of misgiving that has nothing to do with her or him and everything to do with the cult and the Elder Brain looming in the distance. His arms slip around her waist, a firm, affectionate embrace.]

Not if I kiss you first. [And surely, the gods can forgive him for taking this one little moment of comfort and affection for himself. Or maybe it's none of the gods' fucking business, actually, if she is giving it so freely. It's her mouth, after all.

He seals his lips over hers, soft and sweet, a contrast to their heavy, hungry kisses during her heat, but he lingers.]

[ A lingering is all she needs. The weeks between her heat and this have been many, maybe as far as to call them months would be fair, and for a second she wonders if she will still like it without the haze.

It's instant and electric. As sweet as he makes that kiss, it gets its hooks into her and she tingles everywhere.

It's a good thing he's seated. It's easy to deepen the kiss of her own will, her teeth catching his lower lip at the same time as she moves. She pushes him back, enough so she can slip into his lap, her knees on the grass on each side of his hips now. Her hands cup his face, she lets his lower lip go and soothes it with her tongue, before resting her forehead against his. ]

[He had no doubt that it would be good, even without the flush of her heat drawing them together, but then he has the benefit of having been a little clearer in the head when they first made love. He kisses her now, gentle and unafraid, and he finds the taste of candied plums lingers. Fainter, but still there, still sweet. Something soft.

He wasn't expecting her to slide into his lap, but as she moves to straddle him, he finds no reason to object. He makes an mmph? into the kiss and puts his hands on her hips to steady her, unnecessarily.

His eyes are closed, forehead nestled against hers, but he murmurs:] Careful, now. We've been known to start getting intimate even without a soft surface to stretch out on.

...gods, but you smell sweet.

[ She can stay close and breathe him in, and there's no signs of the frenzied heat from before, but the bond lingers. The wanting lingers, and it's being given an outlet now, and honestly it takes a lot of will power to not rub herself against him where she is.

Maybe he'll feel it, in the tension in her legs, the corded muscles of her thighs where she sits in his lap, as if she's restraining herself from grinding down, rolling her hips, getting into trouble. The tremor is more pronounced as soon as he murmurs, careful, now, a low laugh escaping her. Her breath fanned across his lips, her tongue darting out to flick at the bow of his upper lip just a little. ]

You should see how sweet I taste.

[ That is to say. She had wanted to say something less unhinged, but now she has the mental image of Zevlor going down on her and holding her hips down and it's igniting a fire in the pit of her belly. ]

I'm sure there's somewhere we could rent out rooms from - Elfsong's Tavern has them cheap, there was a whole murder scene they've just managed to clear out and all. I know, that's so romantic, you better stop me from talking now before I send us both into some horned up frenzy.

Edited 2024-09-10 15:41 (UTC)

[Gods. The feel of her thighs clasping him is too reminiscent of their heat-fueled coupling to ignore. He shivers, placing his hands on her knees and sliding them up her thighs, admiring the strength there.]

Oh, rest assured, I remember exactly how sweet you taste. [Which is not to say he'd refuse another try.

He blinks at the suggestion of the tavern, eyebrows going up as she continues to reference a murder scene.] The handiwork of the shapeshifting killer who's got you concerned? Is that where Stelmane died? I heard the news. It's...concerning.

[The fall of Elturel sent ripples through Baldur's Gate, as well, from what he's heard. The collapse of one leader after another, until the people have no choice but to embrace the strongman that remains.

His hands remain on her body, stroking over her hips and around the small of her back, but she may regret telling him about the Elfsong at this rate. He's thinking.]

[ She had to open her mouth about Stelmane's former rooms, didn't she? She'd thought she'd lure him in with a private room, a bed for a change, a chance at seeing what else this could be and how it could work outside of the heat, but he's a clever one - her paladin.

She can't even stay mad, because she is like that too, for the most part. Capable of changing the subject to business even while sitting in a man's lap after trying to seduce him.

(Some habits are hard to shake off. The impression that she is mostly just fun for a while, for most of her lovers, is one of those habits. He's got some work ahead.) ]

The work of a different killer, I think. There are rumours - and so far only just - of a sort of tribunal for the Lord of Murder going on in the underbelly of the city. I'm on their track - I think it's connected with that shapeshifter that keeps following us around. A way to get to her, maybe.

[She may find in the long term the easiest way to talk Zevlor into something is to give him some indication he can be helpful. Useful. For most of his life, his job was to serve and defend. A mystery to unravel, vulnerable people to protect, and her work to support...he'll happily follow those opportunities anywhere, as long as he won't be a liability.

If it takes more coaxing to get him to relax with her, it's not because of her. It's because he's not good at relaxing, and he's going to be self-flagellating for a long while yet.]

Bhaalists, then. Baldur's Gate has had a problem with them for a many years. Sometimes they flooded over into Elturel, as well, though not for long. I remember a number of the symbols.

[His hands move again, cradling her face for a moment before he kisses her forehead.] You're definitely stuck with me now. The hell if I'll leave you to face an entire Bhaalist tribunal alone.

[Not that she would actually be alone. She does have her other companions, who may technically have proved themselves more reliable than he has so far.]

[ Oh, that's - really nice actually. It has her tail swaying gently because he's kissed her forehead and it has settled her. Ridiculous, really, but very nice even so.

For all she said she wasn't sure how to act around being cherished, she still gulps it all down.

Ah, but his mind at work is a great thing. She lets out a low laugh, under her breath. ]

Oh good, my dastardly plan to keep you worked. Come on, let's get you into the city proper before you go about sniffing out Bhaalists.

[She gets a brief, tight hug for her trouble. His arms are still strong, even when his hands tremble, and his body is no less warm than in the grove. They are both signing up for what could be a very dark business, with several grim endings in sight.

Maybe she's right, and they should grab what joy they can get while it's there in front of them.] As you wish, my dear. I'll follow you.

[The moment she leaves his lap he misses her, of course, but he stands and slips his hand into hers, a gesture that may surprise her but which feels perfectly natural to him at the moment.] You know, back at the Grove, while we were rolling around in the tree roots, I told myself I'd make a point of getting you a room when we got to the city. A clean bed and a hot bath, and do things properly.

Presumptuous of me, really, to think you'd want another round, but here we are, and you're the one trying to get me into a nice hotel instead.

[ It shouldn't, but it does surprise her, and it also feels so natural that she softens to it immediately, a warmth expanding in her chest even as she squeezes his hand.

She'll guide them towards that back-alley shortcut to the city, now that she's found him and he's agreed to follow her into whatever wilderness and adventure they find here. World-saving stuff, probably.

But she does pause, enough to turn and face him all serious, her free hand over his heart. ] Oh no, I definitely want another round. Many of them. And I like you presumptuous, for the record, almost as much as I like that bossy tone you get when you guide me like it's a battle strategy.

[He knows enough to be aware they'll have to sneak into the city or face the Steel Watch, but he trusts her to know how to get them there. One doesn't become a rogue and not know how to dodge the erstwhile police. Would she have been able to slip past his old unit, he wonders, if they had ever had reason to be at odds? He's just as glad they never had to find out.

He pauses when she does, mildly surprised by the way she looks at him, places her hand on his chest. After a moment, he smiles.] I can't pretend it wasn't a wonderful boost to my ego to have a woman like you choose me for your heat. If I get too bossy, I trust you'll let me know.

I suppose it's instinctive for me to approach lovemaking strategically. The goal is to conquer and thoroughly satisfy, after all.

[ She might've been able to - definitely if she'd slipped past his old unit at the level of skills she's acquired so far. Maybe even before the Nautiloid caught her. Maybe not before her escape from the Blackbirds Guild and arrival in Baldur's Gate, since she'd been very green in her twenties.

Maybe something to put aside and play with another time. When things are not as fraught, she can play the rogue trying to sneak behind Commander Zevlor, and he can take her over his knees for discipline.

Not to get distracted or anything. Not to give him bedroom eyes in broad daylight, in the city. ]

Thoroughly's the right word for it... [ Her voice is low and a little breathy, because Ea can't keep it in her pants apparently. It's definitely a good thing that none of the others came with her today, when she told them she'd had word of Zevlor being spotted outside of the city and wanted to go have a word with him.

They probably didn't want to want to witness her mooning over the man. (Tough titties, she's bringing him home with her so she can moon over him at all times.) ]

Uhm - yes. I'll tell you, if you get too bossy. Don't you worry, I've been to the clubs, I know all about the safewords and so on.

[He wasn't thinking specifically of role play scenarios, but if she suggests it some day after the Gate is safe and he feels like himself again, he will likely be very into that. He's not sure what her bedroom eyes are apropos of at the moment, but it makes him purr a little, inwardly, in spite of himself, in spite of the grief and insecurity haunting him. So she boosts his morale, what can he say?

At the mention of clubs, he gives a faint, sharp laugh. Aha!] Clubs are a bit more daring than my usual, actually. I prefer not to play in a public setting. We're on the same page where safety is concerned, though. I'll trust you to say when to stop, and you'll trust me to listen to you.

[A thoughtful pause, then:] And vice versa, if that's something you'd enjoy. Not that anyone has to be in charge, ever, but I'm willing to take the reins or to give them up for the right person.

[ Ea Lowkey: notorious morale booster. It is known, especially when she uses that dry sarcasm to point out how stupid someone is being.

Sincerity aside, she would boost his morale any day. But for now, perhaps best to focus on leading him down to the side cliffs that lead towards the hole in the wall where Wulbren and his people have set up shop. A short climb up the rafters from there, and they'll be at Sharess' Caress, from where there is a shortcut (that glowy ancient sigil that keeps popping up, and who is she to reject it?) to the city. And once in the city, well... the Fists have a way of ignoring anyone who's a tiefling already in the city, because Baldur's Gate is not without their own. (Case in point: Ea.) ]

It is - it would be. I've never not enjoyed everything you've had to give me so far, and if you choose to give me the reigns, well.

[ A smirk here, over her shoulder at him, while they're climbing a ladder. Flirting while infiltrating a city? Of course they can. ] It'll be my honour.

[Certain tactics work well with certain people. Zevlor would worry if he were being coddled, or even counseled, because he's used to being on the giving end of that sort of care. Flirting, distraction, and work to do are doing wonders, though, and sex will certainly not be turned down at this point.

Her glancing back and smirking at him while climbing a ladder above him is certainly a compelling visual. She's fully dressed, of course, but even at a respectful distance he's got a good view of her rear, her legs, the curve of her tail, and it's certainly reminiscent of possibilities they could explore in the bedroom.]

Well. [He smiles up at her, following.] What are the chances of a hot bath together, then, when we get to the Elfsong?

wdym u started it

/face in hands

/pets

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thanks for letting zevlor join the party, larian

the companion we didn't know we needed

(/i/ knew)

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im going to tag this spontaneous psl until the end of time fair warning

that's good because so am I

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