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Something changed there. Not a physical change, but a shift in the weave. Though they were not as innately tapped in as someone more magically adept, they could occasionally feel its ebb and flow in those quiet moments that sat between. This was one of those moments. A fragment of the weave siphoned into the handle Amaryllis touched. |
They turned the handle. |
A sputter of nothing as the handle and pipes lining the walls jolted to life. Hot water rushed out of the spout. Amaryllis laughed and held their hand under the stream. If Gale had been there, he would have complimented them for recalling their lessons without need of his aid. Quickly, they turned the handle again to stop the water and inspected the other handle. Draconic script. |
Frigid water flowed from the spout at the turn of the second handle. With a childlike wonderment, Amaryllis inspected the rest of the washroom. Words for light were inscribed on the frame of the mirror. When spoken, the molding lit up, brightening their reflection in a mirror. The chamberpot contained the incantation for prestidigitation carefully carved into the handles of the chair. When Gale had suggested they explore the tower, they had figured he meant to acquaint themself with the layout, not with the various enchantments imbued into the masonry. |
With the washroom thoroughly examined, Amaryllis headed down to the floor below to Gale's library and study. They did not dwell too long, having already been made familiar with the space the night he recreated it for him all those months ago. Besides, something was charming about asking him to give them the official tour to recreate that night. |
They soon found themselves in the kitchen, which put the kitchen at their family estate to shame. They knew Gale enjoyed cooking, though they imagined a cook pot over a campfire, and whatever provisions they could scrounge up on their travels did not feed his creativity the way a kitchen like the one they stood in did. There was the hearth, which was more like an elongated counter with a hatch for wood in the front. It was still warm from the breakfast he had made, a simple affair with what little food they had still from their travels but delicious all the same. The holes on the surface where a pot or pan might sit had the same |
inscription on it that Amaryllis was sure they could ignite just as they had the faucet. There was a chest too. Naturally, they opened it, only to find the insides cool to the touch like winter frost. |
. There, on the lid. |
Amaryllis rested their back against the long prep table and drank it all in. They had wished Gale had been there to show them the various enchantments, explain how to activate them, and what their intended use was. They loved the way he spoke of magic, loved hearing the joy seep into his tone, and watching as he became increasingly animated. Perhaps they could feign ignorance when he returned; it certainly wouldn't be the first time they had in an effort to spend time with him. |
Their tail in its idle undulations knocked something from its perch behind them. They hadn't felt it so much as they heard the hollow clunk as it hit the floor and rolled away. " |
." Amaryllis whipped around, tracked the position of their tail to a set of wooden cups turned upside-down next to a wash basin. Three cups when there should have been four. |
The runaway cup had made itself comfortable in the corner nearest a pantry most likely meant for storing grain and root long-keeping produce. It wasn’t the cup they noticed when they approached, but rather, the hatch hidden underneath a couple of empty crates that appeared expertly arranged to conceal something. They caught the taste of the weave as a dissolved on their tongue. A spell meant to conceal. "What are you hiding here, Gale Dekarios?" |
Curiosity picked at Amaryllis" seams. Moving the crates aside was quick work. The sort of work that came second nature and without a second thought. There was something Gale didn't want others to see. And that something brought that familiar old itch to their fingers. They tried the latch handle. It gave with hardly a tug. A glance over their shoulder confirmed he had yet to return from the market. But first, they headed upstairs for their backpack. They would need some supplies. |
Cold stone kissed their feet as they touched down from the ladder. A wine cellar. Dusty from lack of use during their travels, but mundane. The spark of curiosity in them wavered, the wick not catching in the way they had wanted. There they stood in the impressive tower of a powerful archwizard. They expected something in the way of secrets behind darkened doorways even if it wasn't Gale's way. Still, the itch for exploration was left unscratched, so they perused the wine racks, pulling bottles off shelves purely based on how pretty they found the glass and inspected the labels. A mental note was made for a few they were eager to try and would mention later. |
When they reached the southern wall the racks were more sparse both in quantity of bottles but also the sheer number of racks themselves. Enough space to accommodate a door in a space that felt otherwise too small to be the basement of the tower. |
The snuffed wick of curiosity caught like wildfire. |
Amaryllis" hands met cool stone as they began looking for a mechanism. Knowing Gale, this was an illusory wall of sorts. And, the moment that thought crossed their mind, the cool touch of stone melted into the warmth of wood. "Oh, you |
man." They purred, interest renewed. Their fingers circled the lock, then, remembering their tools, unfurled the pack. |
There was something incredibly sensual about lockpicking, in knowing how to manipulate the hammers and pins in just the right way to hope for release. Some locks were like familiar lovers for Amaryllis, easily pleased with a stroke of their pin against them before giving way to a familiar and comforting satisfaction. Others were exciting one-time encounters, challenging to glean the correct techniques, but the release of the last hammer and the lock proving itself pliant against their dexterous fingers was unlike any other. |
How would this lock open for them, they wondered as they applied force to the pin, felt it quiver from the strain and adjusted. Too hard. A softer touch was required. Something about the newness of this lock brought to mind the first times they had made love with Gale, the awkward trepidation. The tireless experimentation until they understood each other's bodies as surely as they understood their own. |
A heat caught in their core, a curiosity that intrigued them. Lockpicking |
inherently sensual for them, but never to the point of eliciting arousal. Interesting. It was something worth exploring later. |
The lock sighed and Amaryllis responded with their own breathy sigh as they jiggled the handle and it gave. |
Boldness took Amaryllis as they eased the door open and found no reaction. A step. Another. And a third. The fourth met them with the familiar ozone smell of magic as tendrils of weave snaked up their limbs and locked them into place. |
They willed their arm forward, but the thought never found the muscles. |
There was an audible |
as the space before them filled with the flickering image of Gale. "Greetings, wicked scoundrel! You are currently attempting to steal from Gale of Wat—" |
"—For fucks" sake. It's me. Amaryllis. Your fiancé?" |
"I do not recall an "Amaryllis'. Gale has been alerted of your attempted robbery and will arrive shortly. Good day!" |
"Waitwaitwaitwait—shit!" Before Amaryllis had a chance to fully get the words out, the image of Gale had disappeared. They tugged at their limbs again. No use, they wouldn't move. |
While they stood frozen, they scanned the room. Display cases, shelves, and racks sat before them, dimly lit with enchanted blue flames burning in palm-sized wall-mounted braziers. The blue glow cut a strange juxtaposition between the rest of the tower. Just barely, Amaryllis could see the makings of objects on each of the surfaces. Swords, helms, staves, wands. Everything. Anything. These were artifacts, though they had been certain Gale had said he consumed all he owned before their meeting. |
As if answering the question this posed, there was another |
and the burn of ozone in their air. Light burst before their eyes and stung them to the point of watering. Then, Gale. Not his mirror image, but him, complete with the basket and sack he had left with slung recklessly around his arm. |
A rare fury sat on his face initially before his gaze fell on them and it softened to concern. He dropped the shopping on the floor hastily and approached, hands finding their cheeks as his eyes flicked across them, assessing for injuries."I got here as fast as I could," he said, breathless, "when I was alerted of the intrusion, I feared the worst, but it seems it was merely my fiancé becoming restless in my absence." The playful smile that divided his face was a sweet one only made sweeter by the gentle peck of a kiss. |
"I'm glad to see you," they reciprocated, "but could you free me?" |
"Of course. One moment." Gale waved his hand in a practiced way that carried a certain elegance not lost on them. |
The bits of weave that chained them eased and a feeling of calm took them. No longer trapped. Amaryllis patted down their body and flicked their tail in an agitated effort to ensure they were free. "What is this place? I thought you consumed all your artifacts." |
"I had. The ones you see before you are ones I deemed too dangerous—too volatile—to consume. I feared consuming them would...agitate my condition to a catastrophic end, so I kept them here and out of the hands of someone who might use them for nefarious purposes." |
"Cursed objects." |
"The very same." |
"Are they all dangerous? There's so many." |
They were ambling between the various cases, taking the artifacts in. A meat cleaver atrophied with rust. It gleamed a blood crimson from certain angles. a circlet composed of barbed chains and a gem as dark as death suspended by them. A staff that flavored the air around it with the taste of rot. |
Gale was following behind two paces, watching as their fingers danced along the cases and surfaces. "A cleaver found somewhere in Icewind Dale. A single |
transfers some of the victim's vitality to the one wielding. There's also the cannibalism." In response to the circlet, "A vestige forged by an enterprising lich in a forgotten era. It grants the wearer the ability to harness dark magic. I suspect there is a companion to it that siphons life from the wearer of the circlet and transfers it to the matching artifact." The staff, "Oh, that one is particularly nasty. The soul of a hag was trapped within. She assails the one attuned to it mentally until they're completely corrupted by her influence." |
Amaryllis was only partially paying attention to Gale as he spoke. The objects on display held too much attention. Each exuded an ominous quality the way dark magic did, causing their stomach to churn uneasily. All except a simple wooden object. They had stopped before it, tail flicking left and right in curiosity as they looked at it. The shape was odd. Like a wand, but slightly too short and thick to be a wand, and with a curve that ended in a flat circular piece with four flat, rectangular loops. There were familiar bumps and ridges on the underside, with the tip coming to a tapered blunt head— |
"—I hadn't a chance to identify that one before our illithid assailants spiriting me away, but I believe it to be infernal in make. Here." He picked up the artifact and turned it to reveal the flat circular piece to them. "There are some infernal writings here. Activation words, I suspect, but I am shamefully rusty with my Infernal and cannot parse the text. I believe it |
be a horned inclusion on a helm—" |
"—It's a cock." |
Gale's face colored. "That's a rather...unconventional observation. I suppose it does indeed |
"No. It doesn't |
a cock. It is one. Let me show you." |
When Gale handed over the object, Amaryllis quickly turned it over and inspected the Infernal script. |
. And a second that read |
. "It just says "activate'," they poked the text for emphasis, "but these loops |
their finger circled each one deliberately, "are meant for a harness. Watch." |
Amaryllis set the object down and began undoing the knot of the sash. The robe fell open as they yanked it through the loops. |
"That's entirely unnec—ah..." Gale had gone from pink to red, arms flailing about until his eyes fell to their breasts. He slowed to a still position, fingers pressed against his lips, fixated. |
"See?" They grabbed the object and laced the sash through each loop until it created something similar to a traditional harness. Then, they stepped their legs through either side of their makeshift harness and hoisted it up until the flat piece was flush against their pelvis. Like that, it looked just like an erect cock. "It's a dildo." |
Gale's eyes shifted from their breasts to the dildo. "Indeed." His voice trailed off into a low whisper. |
The heat between Amaryllis" thighs intensified at the sound. |
"Do you want to see what it does?" |
The suggestion hung in the space between them, electrifying the moment. Gale rubbed his chin, considering. "I assume it's likely a vibration or temperature enchantment. Those tend to be the most common for this sort of...tool." |
Amaryllis shrugged. "Activus." |
A sudden shift happened in Amaryllis" body. New connections were formed between their pelvis and the dildo like their flesh sought to overtake its wooden form. Not |
, but a foreign sensation took them. Cool air brushed against an appendage they shouldn't have felt as the dildo slowly took on the same white hue of their skin and swung down between their legs, smacking their thigh with a wet |
"Incredible." Wonderment touched Gale's voice as he approached. His hand found the dildo—cock—dildo? |
Amaryllis felt the warmth and softness of his skin and gasped. "Gale..." They said, low and breathy when his hand shifted down to inspect the head. |
"Interesting. It has taken on the exact pallor of your skin, even down to the head taking on the purple tones around your appendages." |
He adjusted it again, his hand like wildfire. Their heart pounded against their ribcage like the beat of a hummingbird's wings. The cock—dildo—cock flushed to life in his grasp, though he didn't seem to notice. |
"It's taken on the feel and temperature of actual flesh as well. Tell me, Love, do you feel any different with it activated? Any increased sensation, or perhaps—" |
"—Gale. Look." |
Gale's hand slipped from the cock, which stood tall and erect. He fell back a step, fingers finding his lips again. His expression was one of concentration, curiosity, and a touch of arousal. " |
. And you feel it all?" |
Arousal overtook every emotion he was wearing. "Then perhaps we should take this upstairs so we can better understand the intricacies of this device?" His arms and lips were on them in an instant. The weave coalesced around them, enveloping their bodies in its warm embrace. When Amaryllis separated from the kiss, they were standing in the bedroom. |
Amaryllis was on him the moment their feet touched solid ground. His mouth was hot and wanting, seeking theirs as they drove the both of them back until he stopped abruptly, calves pressed against the bed. They only separated long enough for Amaryllis to press their hands to his chest, forcing him into a seated position. |
Gale's hands met their thighs, trailing up their sides until they settled on their hips. "No god could ever create something as beautiful as you." His words were a whisper punctuated by a kiss below their navel. A scar sat there, one he lovingly referred to as a sunburst. Gale kissed his way up their abdomen, stopping at the valley beneath their breasts where he gazed up at them. "So beautiful that I almost wish your trunks were lost on the voyage and you would have to remain nude." |
"Is that so?" They brushed his hair back, their fingers catching on strands of silver as they made their way to the nape of his neck. |
"Mm." Gale's hands trailed upwards, cupping their breasts. He used his thumbs to toy with their nipples. |
They responded with a quivering sigh when he rolled the piercings under the pads of his fingers. |
Amaryllis dropped to their knees, body slotting between his thighs like a key to a lock. Gale was breathtaking as he was, propped on his elbows, warm sunlight streamed across him and highlighted the flecks of gold in his eyes and the silver that ran through his hair. |
Worth more than all the silver and gold in Faerun. |
He watched as they worked on removing his clothes. Watched their deft fingers pick apart the various buttons, laces, and fastens that kept them on. At one point, his rapt attention would have left them feeling insecure, like he was studying them with a fascination he reserved for old texts and arcane concepts. And to some degree, they imagined he was, especially while they wore an artifact that demanded a certain level of intimate exploration to understand. But when they gazed into his warm brown eyes, they saw passion, desire, love. His hands twitched at his sides while they straddled him to pick apart the laces of his trousers, desperate to touch, but willing to delay gratification. |
"Feeling eager?" They asked as they tugged his remaining garments down his legs. |
" Gale angled his hips up, his cock hard against their thigh, "the lack of privacy on the voyage was |
." His hands were on them again, making courses up their thighs until the pads of his fingers danced along their spine. |
When Amaryllis slipped from Gale's lap, they were met with a look of confusion. His only protest was a breathy |
as they pushed his legs apart and took the head of his cock between their lips. |
There was always a satisfaction that came with Gale—usually so conversational and verbose—falling silent in the wake of pleasure. Their joy came in that silence, in knowing the only thoughts that sat inside him were ones of them, their bodies blessedly entwined in a manner that transcended language. It was like they reached into his mind and stole the very words forming in his mind before they could find his tongue. |
It seemed fitting, given how much he enjoyed |
tongue. Both of Gale's hands anchored around the curved parts of Amaryllis" horns, dragging their mouth down further onto his velvet-soft cock as he rolled his hips in lazy thrusts. When he suddenly stopped—the movement ending with him easing Amaryllis off him with an audible |
— they regarded him with their own look of confusion. |
"We're supposed to be testing that artifact, My Love." His words were honey-sweet and yet still not nearly as sweet as the kiss he punctuated them with. |
There was a fluidity in how Gale maneuvered the pair so that Amaryllis was on their back and he had pulled their legs over his shoulders. One of his hands found the artifact first, giving it a few experimental pumps. His fingers pressed into the ridges along the underside. Tendrils of pleasure coiled together in their core. Their insides clamped down in anticipation of entry but found only air. |
"Gale..." Their voice quivered, weakened by two of his fingers finding purchase when he slipped them inside. |
"You're already so aroused." Whether he meant it as an observation or teasing, Amaryllis didn't care. They eased back into the bed, attention slowly on Gale as both his hands found a rhythm in stroking the pseudo cock and thrusting his fingers deeper inside them. |
"Describe to me what it feels like." |
"Aah..." Words wouldn't come easily. They attempted to wrap their mind around the sensations. Around the warmth and pressure that was so different from being penetrated and yet so complementary. His hands were feathery and soft, unmarred by a lifetime of knowledge, and yet |
skilled. Not enough fingers inside. And yet when they tried to focus their tongue on the task, all that came out was a pathetic, "It's...ah...warm." |
Gale laughed, "Are you struggling to find the words necessary?" |
"Then would you allow me access to your thoughts?" His words came with a promise: Never malicious. Never deeper than they were inviting. |
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