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She pauses. Swallows hard, exhales a sharp breath through her nose. Then she smiles, plum-painted lips turning up and baring teeth, but her eyes remain cold. She wants to cut his lying tongue from his traitor’s mouth - but she refrains. He is her husband, after all. Her lord and master. She was sworn to unquestioning o... |
But she was protected, cherished by him as one adores a prized pet. Purebred, precious, and oh so pretty to look at . She wondered whether he saw her as such - a sweet, innocent pup, ready and eager to serve its master. Desperate to please and happy to follow wherever he went, to give anything he asked without an ounc... |
Magic sizzled and popped in the air around her, crackling like a fire as her emotions breathed life into it. The shadows in the room seemed to grow and seethe, smothering out the lights and snaking its tendrils of darkness to skim across her flesh. Long had she practiced the art of shadow magic, but it had always resis... |
"Certainly. Sleep well, Enver, darling." Her farewell is measured and confident, though beneath the surface poisoned by an undercurrent Enver doesn’t seem to notice. Anyone else would have been able to taste their venom. Perhaps the servants, standing rigidly still in the dark corners of the room, knew. She did not mee... |
She watches as his lips purse slightly before forming an old familiar word. |
"Goodnight, sweetling." |
She had not expected him to say anything in response, let alone that . Something she hadn’t heard in years - a relic of their early days, when he made an effort to warm what was between them. With his saccharine words he’d softened her heart, opened her to him and shown her what could be. What riches and treasures she... |
He was happy . She delved into his mind once more only to find that it had - however briefly - emptied of thoughts of Anathema. Instead, she saw her own face, youthful and rosy-cheeked, staring back at her. How utterly perfect she was on the day he wed her, draped in gossamer silks and silver, her brow wreathed in flo... |
How far they had come together, man and wife. And how far she had fallen in his esteem. To be second to another when once she’d been the only, to be put aside so easily. She almost wanted to cry. The urge quickly left her, though, and she stiffened her lip. It wouldn’t do to let her emotions rule her, and certainly not... |
She smiled once more, almost warmly this time, before sweeping out of the dining room and onto the streets of Baldur’s Gate. |
The Upper City was a lovely place to walk in the dead of night. The wide, empty streets were quiet as the grave as she ambled along towards Anathema’s apartments, flanked by Watchers which guarded her closely. The metallic clanging and whirring of their movements disturbed her peace, though she knew there was no other ... |
What if she got lost, he’d asked her, purring soft as silk and sweeter than sugar. What if she fell and hurt herself, his precious, sweet wife. What if someone hurt her, some cutthroat dragging her into an alley to rob her or worse. She’d objected at the beginning, sure of her ability to defend herself from lone thie... |
Ia tried not to think about it. She focused instead on the soft thump of her boots against the cobbled street, and the quiet cooing of the doves watching over her as she finally arrived at the woman’s doorstep. She dismissed the Watchers, commanding them to take their leave of her, and yet they remained - though they r... |
As she approached the threshold and laid a hand on its knocker, clacking it twice against the unyielding wood of the door, she was suddenly reminded of the first time she’d visited Anathema there. They’d played cards all night, shared drinks and enjoyed each other’s company. It had been the first time she’d been allowe... |
Ianira, perhaps, had been given no choice but to tolerate Anathema, as she did Ketheric and the countless other allies - and lackeys - her husband entertained. She was expected to present the illusion of a united front, of blind loyalty to Enver’s cause and ambitions. But she adored Anathema, even when she frustrated ... |
She heard stirring on the other side of the door, an unmistakable presence. She knew her so well now she could sense her without sight, would know her in pitch black by scent and sound alone. The woman quietly cracked the door, just enough to see who it was - unwisely disturbing her at such a late hour - before opening... |
"Anathema. I apologize for not sending word I’d be coming, but I thought I would... Pop in. If that’s alright?" Ia spoke softly so as not to alert the Watchers. She knew very well they could hear her, and knew even better where the information they gleaned went to. Who it went to. |
The tiefling studied her a moment, her eyes dark-ringed and tired. Her nightclothes were disheveled and spattered with old bloodstains, and Ia made a mental note to insist Enver furnish her with a fresh wardrobe more suitable for her station. She was Bhaal’s chosen, after all, she couldn’t be seen running around dresse... |
"It’s alright. Come in, please." Anathema’s voice was uncharacteristically cold, she noted, her tone betraying profound weariness. She wondered what it was that troubled her. It was abundantly obvious the woman hadn’t slept, maybe for days. |
The air within the house felt stale and thick, as though the windows had been shut on a hot summer’s day or the hearth had burned white-hot for hours. Except the night air was blissfully, comfortably cool, and there was no need to light a fire. The atmosphere was stifling, and Ianira’s breaths came shallow as Anathema ... |
"I wanted to see you," Needed , Ia mused, but kept that particular thought to herself. She crossed her legs, adjusting her delicate silk skirts to pool around her feet. "It feels like... I haven’t seen you since... I missed you. " |
Her words were unsteady, strange for a woman as poised and self-assured as Ianira. She stuttered through them, desperately racking her brain for a way to explain what she felt to Anathema without outright speaking the words. She couldn’t . It was not allowed. Her mouth would have rejected it, love and desire spat... |
Anathema studied her absently, her eyes settling on the elf’s fingers - adorned with silver rings inlaid with gems, which she twisted and turned as she wrung her hands together. Never before had she been uncomfortable in her home, and yet now she felt keenly that she was not entirely welcome. Something had changed. The... |
No. She knew why. What had been between them, their... Little diversion was surely the cause of this sudden coldness in Anathema. She should have known better. She should not have jeopardized their friendship the way she had, daring to want more. She should be punished for having the audacity to even consider it. S... |
The dark, ashen-grey expanse of Anathema’s chest, bared to her in stolen memories. The strong, rhythmic thumping of her heart beneath, the rushing of blood through her body that Ia could just almost hear even sitting as far away as she was. Her plush, soft lips, their taste flooding across her tongue as she bored furth... |
She remembered only too well what had transpired not a fortnight ago, on a night just as pleasant and balmy as this. The wounds Anathema had carved into her were tender still, but healing - knitting over with silvery-pink scar tissue. She treasured them, had been fussing over them so much Enver was beginning to grow an... |
But she also remembered the woman’s hands, delicate on her skin, her touch so gentle at first it shocked Ianira to the core of her being. She could still feel the brutal claws at the ends of her fingers, teasing and tearing her flesh in exquisite agony while she fought the urge to allow whines and mewls of satisfaction... |
Ianira’s eyes widened involuntarily and her pupils breached their confines, swallowing her irises in glittering, abyssal black. The room brightened then, the low, crackling fire in the hearth blazing with such an intensity it made her head ache. She cast her gaze to Anathema and found her watching intently. The tieflin... |
"Anathema?" The elf spoke, but this time her words were hesitant, desperate , the barest hint of pleading in her voice. She stirred uncomfortably in the chair, not quite able to settle. "Is... Is something wrong? Have I done... Did I..." |
Fear sliced through her stomach, a frozen knife digging deep into her flesh. Lady preserve her, if she’d done anything to displease Anathema she might as well throw herself from the highest tower she can find. It would be a shame unendurable, a failure beyond the forgivable. She would sooner flay herself raw than suf... |
"No. What made you think that?" The woman studied her, narrowing her eyes, before finally replying. Her words were cold , more clinical than Ia was used to hearing from her beloved companion. She wondered if she’d gone too long without indulging her Urges, whether Lord Bhaal had taken hold of her mind and set her to h... |
"Well, I... You seem different. Changed. Have you been sleeping?" Ia’s concern was evident on her face, her brows knitting tightly. "I hope Enver hasn’t kept you up raving about his plans. I thought he would be content with one captive audience." |
"N-no. It’s not... It isn’t that." The tiefling pursed her lips, no doubt causing her fangs to slice into the inside of her mouth. She looked uncomfortable, though the elf pressed onwards, determined to get to the root of the problem. |
"Then what is it? What’s happened to my dear friend? To-" My dearest love. My constant companion. My heart. Ia’s stomach flips, clenching as her eyes meet the Bhaalspawn’s. She finds them burning with yet-undecided emotion. "To the woman I know? Why do you hide yourself away?" |
"I’ve done something, I know it. I..." Ianira’s tone was not accusatory, in fact the opposite - thick with distress. "Tell me how to fix this, and it will be done. Anything you ask of me. Please ." |
"It isn’t your fault," Anathema breathed deeply, shakily, before continuing, "It’s mine. My transgression. You’ve done nothing wrong." |
Ia falls eerily silent. Within the space of a heartbeat, her own conflicting feelings flood back into her with such a force it chokes the air from her. |
"Is this about what happened? What we..." She wonders if she should continue, but finding Anathema’s gaze still solidly on her, she musters all of her courage and speaks the words. "What went on between us, it was... Improper , and yet I... I cannot find it in myself to feel guilty. Is that...?" |
She felt not a single ounce of guilt. All she could recognize was the hole in herself that Anathema’s absence had left, even as short as it had been, and the joy she felt at seeing her again. To be in her company, to feel her warmth, hear her voice. She yearned to reach out and touch her once more, to hold her close. S... |
"You’re married." The Bhaalspawn half-growls, a rumbling sound coming from deep within her chest. It might have been enough to strike fear into anyone but Ianira, but she knew the woman well enough. She was bluffing - trying to protect herself. "You’re married, Ia, and I’m supposed to be... Your husband-" |
"You are many things, Anathema: many wonderful, terrible, brilliant things. But blind is not one of them." Ia doubles down, seeking out the source and attacking. She saw no point in beating around the bush. She was the wife of Enver Gortash after all. Neither husband nor wife were given to evasion and mollycoddling, ev... |
Ianira stands, smoothing her skirts down and fussing anxiously with her hair, toying with a strand while she huffs - perhaps in frustration, perhaps because merely being in Anathema’s presence has left her breathless. |
"You have changed things. Changed everything . And I-I am not sorry. I am not sorry, for the moment we shared, nor should you be. For the first time in all my life I felt... I do not rightly know what I felt. But I know I want to feel it again." Her words were shaky but delivered with an air of surety, as though sh... |
"I-" Anathema starts, but whatever words she meant to say die on her tongue as Ianira cups her face in her small, soft hands. She strokes her cheek with a thumb, soothing her with the repetitive motion. |
"I will pray for enough forgiveness for the both of us." Her eyes flicker between Anathema’s own and her lips, plush and so inviting, begging to be kissed. A quiet whine escapes her before she speaks again. " Please , Anathema. I want this. Gods, I need you. Fuck the cost." |
It was barely a moment before Ianira could feel the heat of Anathema’s breath on her cheek, less than a second before the woman snaked an arm around her waist and slowly - oh so agonizingly slowly - leaned in to kiss her. It was as if the entire world had slowed to a crawl, every heartbeat stretching to its very limit ... |
But the Bhaalspawn was being intentionally over-tender. Gone was the intense, voracious desire she had displayed before. Now her passion was tempered, strangled. Chained. Ia refused to accept it. If she was not drowning in it - if her lungs were not burning from the pressure of hands at her throat, her flesh not bloody... |
Boldness was something she did not indulge in often. It was too close to insolence, prone to crossing the line of behavior Enver found acceptable in his wife. But today, with Anathema, she did eagerly and with reckless abandon. She had borne a lifetime of others doing whatever they pleased with her: dressing her how ... |
Nevertheless, she’d always felt she could test those boundaries with Anathema. Now was certainly no exception, she mused, as she lightly flicked the woman’s lips with her tongue, seeking permission to deepen the kiss. The tiefling granted her entry, and it was not long before her forked tongue met with Ianira’s own. It... |
For the first time in her life, she was absolutely, obsessively determined. She would sacrifice anything to please Anathema, degrade herself in any way the woman desired. Anything she asked, whatever she wanted, she would do without hesitation. She would carve her own heart out with a dinner knife and present it on a s... |
"Do you want this?" Ia spoke as she rolled Anathema’s skirts up, bunching them up around her thighs and trailing her hand down to tease over her cunt. They were the lightest of touches at first, barely brushing the skin, but gradually gained pressure and soon she had two fingers buried to the hilt inside her, focusing ... |
She would prove herself to Anathema, whatever it took. |
"Mmm..." Anathema whined, a lovely sound, head tilted back and mouth open in pleasure. All the Bhaalspawn could do was mewl under Ianira’s ministrations, worked slowly and gently open by her deft, loving fingers. She laid back to recline on the chaise, placing her feet on either side of the elf’s body, focused on littl... |
"Maiden, guide my hand... You’re perfect. So beautiful." There was reverence in the elf’s voice, deep and profound, almost religious . She thought to fall to her knees in worship, and so she did. Surrendering to her impulses, her own need, she knelt gracefully before the woman, hand still buried between her thighs and... |
"I... May I taste you?" She could practically feel herself beginning to drool at the prospect. So many times had Enver commanded her to her knees, fucking her throat at a brutal, unforgiving pace, seeking his own release and caring little for hers, leaving her with only the long wet ropes of saliva and floods of tears ... |
Ianira did not need to be told twice. She leaned in, delicately spreading Anathema’s thighs before she delved into her cunt, devouring her like a woman starved. As though it was her last night alive, and the woman’s slick was the famed ambrosia of the gods - the very nectar of immortality. She lapped it up greedily, pa... |
She fell over the edge in a writhing, whimpering mess, soft moans of Ia’s name sending jolts of electricity to her core. She was sure she’d have to burn the shift she was wearing, and perhaps her stockings too - her own arousal was dripping down her thighs and had reached past her knees, leaving a small puddle on the f... |
The Bhaalspawn smirked . Bared her teeth, flicked her forked tongue out against her lip before sitting up. She was still slightly woozy, though it seemed to matter little. She had recovered, and this time it was Ianira’s turn. By all the Gods dead and living, she wanted her too. And she would have her. |
Lady Gortash would not be sleeping tonight. |
It took about two weeks of trial and error before Blurg perfected it. Blurg, singular, only in the sense that this was his dedicated project, whereas his partner maintained focus on research for the Society of Brilliance. He hardly worked |
though. Omeluum was a willing test subject, and suggested a number of revisions to aid the process. They didn’t mind that Blurg had taken on this side research for a time. There were no pressing deadlines and besides, this would aid them both in the scheme of things. |
The dilemma was Omeluum’s health. Not in an urgent way, but in an inconvenient way. Their |
health, actually. |
Blurg had noticed them behaving differently a few weeks ago, displaying unusual signs of agitation. It was a rare phenomenon. Omeluum was extremely skilled at hiding physical discomforts, in the rare instances they had them. So, it came as a surprise when Blurg began to see them shuffling a bit in their robes, rubbing ... |
Blurg didn’t say anything at first. Omeluum was more than capable of recognizing their own needs and addressing them if necessary. But then Blurg began to notice the dullness of their skin, the way it lacked its usual sheen. In fact, when Blurg stood close enough, he noted that Omeluum’s tentacles and exposed hands loo... |
Their knuckles seemed raw and cracked, and the tips of their tentacles flaked. |
After some gentle and concerned prodding, Omeluum admitted that their lack of sustenance was having an effect on the mucous production in their skin. It couldn’t be helped. Viable brains came few and far between, and they had yet to develop a suitable substitute. |
Blurg couldn’t stand for that, though. Seeing his partner in discomfort was distressing. He didn’t like the way Omeluum often rubbed circles on their drying skin with their knuckles, as if they wanted to scratch but couldn’t risk their claws. Nor the way they shifted and rolled their shoulders and shrugged as if their ... |
He told them that it was only practical. That Omeluum would be able to focus better if they weren’t itchy and dry. He was worried this might offend them, the implication that their mental prowess was in some way dampened by the physical discomfort. Thankfully, they instead agreed that the sensitivity was becoming an in... |
Thus, Blurg devoted himself to developing some type of supplement or cream that might treat them. Supplements were ineffective. After all, the same nutrients that would likely produce mucus were the same missing from the lack of brains in their diet. Having not discovered a brain alternative, there was little to be don... |
He focused instead on developing a cream or ointment, with varied results. Some mixtures irritated their skin further. One, a poultice made with some darkpool moss and the crushed cap of a dweller mushroom, gave them an allergic reaction. Their skin reddened to a shade almost as dark as Blurg’s and they had to flush th... |
It took a while, but Blurg eventually found the ideal combination. Water, oil from crushed lanternbush nuts, an emulsifier they often used in elixirs, and some preservative gel they used for research specimens. The result was a gel-like lotion that neither irritated the skin, nor dried too quickly. In fact, it kept the... |
Blurg made sure to mix plenty of it. Several bottles to use as needed. He was positively |
when he heard Omeluum’s hum of approval and watched them scoop up a large dollop of the liquid with a tentacle to spread onto each dangling tendril. It was always a good feeling, knowing that he’d impressed them. Quite the rare achievement for someone dealing with a mind flayer. But Omeluum never held themself above Bl... |
"It’s to your liking, then?" Blurg couldn’t help but ask. |
"Yes," they answered telepathically. "It is not uncomfortable, and there is a certain warming effect that I find pleasant. Thank you, Blurg." |
"Any time," Blurg said, lips twitching in a smile. "I mean it, friend. You need not suffer silently. If there is anything I can do to lighten your load, then I’m apt to do it. I know you would do the same for me. We are partners, after all." |
He knew this to be true. Omeluum had already treated Blurg during illnesses and injury, and had modified many things around their camp for Blurg’s ease. A small example was their choice to begin writing notes on parchment for Blurg to access easily, even though, as an illithid, they had no need and could memorize infor... |
that perhaps it was also out of some sort of camaraderie with Blurg. |
No, he didn’t just |
this to be the case. They had spent two years in the underdark, working side by side. They shared anecdotes, musings, and silent stretches of time in each others’ company. They sometimes shared mental connections, too. Moments when Blurg allowed them to enter his mind, or when they opened themself to Blurg. It was ther... |
They were friends and partners, and Blurg felt it necessary to remind Omeluum that they could rely on him, even for seemingly inconsequential things. |
"That is much appreciated," Omeluum replied. There was a beat of hesitation after this as their eyes fixed down on the bottle of lotion for a moment, where a tentacle caressed the mouth of the bottle. "Actually," they said, lifting their gaze to Blurg now, "there is another task I would appreciate your help with, as it... |
"Ask, and I’m yours," Blurg said. He |
to say "ask and |
yours," but his bumbling mouth blurted out the wrong words. |
If Omeluum thought the sentence strange, they didn’t make any indication. Instead, they swept their hand, gathering psionic energy in a purple glow. It took a moment, with only the slightest adjustments with their hands and tentacles, mostly using telekinesis to strip their robes down to the waist. |
Although Blurg was rather accustomed to seeing them in all forms, clothed or otherwise, be it due to bathing or experiments, the suddenness of the action startled him. A flustering heat rose like steam up from his stomach, through his chest, and to his cheeks. He was quick to right himself, though, immediately switchin... |
"If you would be inclined," Omeluum said, "I would like this serum applied to my back." Their eyes squinted in the expression Blurg knew as them reevaluating something. "To clarify, I would appreciate it if you applied it to my back." |
Blurg was moving before the request even finished reaching his mind. "With pleasure," he said. |
Omeluum used a tentacle to hand him the bottle of lotion, then turned to give Blurg full access to the expanse of their back. He noted immediately how scratchy and inflamed the skin was. It made sense that the areas constantly rubbed by their clothes would be the driest and most irritated. He felt a pang of sympathy fo... |
He poured some lotion into his palm, then dipped his fingers into it. He held them up, about to apply it to their skin, but...he paused. |
This would be the first time...the |
time Blurg touched them like this. It wasn’t that they’d never touched at all. No, in fact, gentle touches had increased in frequency the longer they spent down here. The brush of hands while examining a specimen. The gentle weight of a tentacle on his shoulder when Omeluum peered over at Blurg’s notes. The occasional ... |
"Is something the matter?" Omeluum asked, as if they could detect Blurg’s hesitance. |
"Just worried about causing you more discomfort," Blurg answered casually. "Is there anywhere you don’t want to be touched?" |
"Anywhere is fine," they answered. |
Anywhere. Right. |
Blurg finally pressed his fingers against their back. Instantly, they released a clicking hiss of a sound that made Blurg quickly recoil. |
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