mickume/dnd_drow · Datasets at Hugging Face

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Astarion cleared his throat. "I believe it is my turn to ask you a question?"
"Ah, yes. Go on, then."
"Do you prefer a sunny day, or a rainy one?"
Aethelle looked at him blankly.
"Do tell me what magic is my specialty."
He blinked, looked down, and laughed at himself, realizing the question he had just asked the storm sorceress. She laughed and laughed, holding him all the while. They asked their mundane questions to each other all night, until it was time for them to finally rest, where they held together still. Astarion did not think upon his original plan again that night. He simply had no time to. He was too busy being happy.
"What did I tell you, my dear?" said Astarion huskily. "Did I not tell you I would make you beg?"
The sorceress moaned in response, trying her best not to give in to the rogue's dominance. He gripped her thighs tightly, his face ever so close to her sheath. Feeling his warm breath upon her, but nothing else, was agony.
"That did not sound like a "please', my dear," Astarion replied smugly. He slowly led his fingers closer to her clit, but never quite all the way.
There was nothing the sorceress loathed more than giving the vampire exactly what he wanted. She was determined to hold out and make him crumble first.
"Surely you are getting bored down there, my love," replied Aethelle.
"Oh, not at all, my dear. Not at all." He traced a finger down her slit, spreading her slightly, before moving his hand away once again. She quivered but resisted it as best she could, not wanting to give away her lust.
"Don't fight it, my sweet," he rested his head on her thigh, whispering softly to her. "All you have to do is utter one simple word."
"No? So naughty today indeed. What am I going to have to do with you?" He dragged his tongue across her clit, sending another shiver down her body.
"Surely nothing in comparison to what I will eventually do to you," growled the sorceress.
"Such arrogant words for someone in such a compromising position as yourself," his voice was airy as he lazily toyed with her sheath.
"Must you always be so obstinate?" hissed Aethelle.
"I believe," he paused, slowly inserting a finger into her before pulling it back out, "you already know the answer to that question." She gasped quietly as he felt his touch leave her once more.
"How I do hate you, my love."
Astarion pretended to be shocked by her words. "What insolence you display today, my dear. I suppose I should try a bit harder." He climbed over her, and she looked up at him with her eyes wide. She felt him settle his length slightly into her warmth, causing her to squirm, but he moved no further. She looked up at him as he lay on top of her, still as stone, and he looked at her with a devil's smile incarnate.
She wriggled beneath him, only for him to place a hand firmly on her chest. "Ah, ah, ah, no cheating, my dear."
Aethelle pouted and looked away, feeling her face redden, trying to conceal it.
Astarion had one final card to play, knowing it would ultimately win him the tête-à-tête. He knew it would be absolutely agonizing for his lover, and he may indeed pay a price later for it, but at this point it was worth the risk.
He gently turned her face to his, tilting her chin up with his hand. He brought her lips just before his, enough to briefly brush against each other, but not quite enough to kiss her wholly.
She looked at him, her eyes wide, quickly darting from his eyes to his mouth. She furrowed her brow and hit her fists against his chest.
"Why, you absolute bastard!"
Astarion did not move. He simply snickered at her and smiled, inches from her face.
"Have you been planning that this whole time, you devil?"
Astarion laughed harder, his smile widening.
"You... you..." The sorceress's voice stammered as her eyes still darted from his eyes to his lips. She pouted, crossed her arms, and looked away. She glanced up at him once more, hoping he would stop this madness, but all he did was meet her gaze and smile at her ever so arrogantly.
She looked away once again and muttered under her breath. "Please."
"Did you say something, my dear?" asked Astarion. The sorceress scoffed indignantly.
"You bloody well heard me," she scowled.
"Oh I don't believe I did," his voice was positively wicked.
Aethelle sighed, her hands running up his arms before settling onto his back. She looked up at him sincerely from behind her lashes, meeting his steely gaze.
Aethelle let out a gasp as she suddenly felt Astarion’s length fully penetrate her. He slowly rocked back and forth on top of her, cupping her cheek, still looking at her with his smug face. He leaned down and finally kissed her, but left her lips once again to speak.
"Good girl," he murmured. "Now touch yourself."
Aethelle could not bear to hold out any longer. She bit her lip and nodded, her hand running down her body before settling on her clit. Astarion groaned and leaned down to kiss her again, before quickening his pace.
The sorceress closed her eyes, trying to regain any notion of self-preservation, but each of his thrusts rattled her mind. She was mad at how she had crumbled, but not too mad, as he simply felt too good. Everything Astarion did to her was devastatingly good.
She opened her eyes slightly, letting herself submit completely to him. She made no attempt to cull the noises from her lips. With her free hand she raised it to her breast, gently groping the stiffened peak.
Astarion bared his teeth at the sight as he felt the sorceress tighten around him. He couldn’t look away from the mess he had made of her.
"Would you like to cum, my dear?" the rogue asked huskily.
"I don’t think I need to repeat the rules, Aethelle."
He kissed her again as he forcefully bucked against her, her moans filling the room. Astarion felt himself writhe from inside her, as her body began to constrict further. Her face was melted with pleasure.
"Astarion..." her voice trailed off in between her panting. "You feel... you feel... I want to... I... I love you."
The two elves felt their bodies crumble from their orgasms, the waves of release ripping through them. Their bodies trembled against each other as Astarion collapsed on top of her, and the two held each other tightly. He tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear before leaning forwards to whisper gently into it.
The two elves lay in the bed together, cuddling and laughing, their arms and legs intertwined beneath the blankets.
"Okay, okay! Let me think of one," said the rogue.
"Think faster!" The sorceress giggled.
"What is your favorite book?" asked Astarion.
"Well, I certainly don’t enjoy dictionaries as much as Gale does." The two elves snorted. "I don’t know... hmm..." Aethelle’s voice trailed off as she thought, and suddenly her eyes went wide as she laughed. "I know what it is, but you’ll laugh at me!"
"Well now you simply must tell me," chuckled Astarion.
"Ugh..." she covered her face with her hands. "The Druid and his Belladonna."
Astarion gasped. "That smutty thing?" He howled with laughter. Aethelle buried her head into his chest to avoid his eyes.
"Leave me alone!" she whined.
"You must have been so excited when Halsin joined our camp."
The sorceress muffled her face into Astarion’s chest as she let out a mewl.
Astarion finally caught his breath from laughter. "Okay, okay. Your turn." He ran his hands through her hair, twirling a strand around his finger.
She leaned back up, her cheeks a deep red. "Fine," she muttered.
"Oh, my dear, you are so adorable when you’re flustered."
Aethelle blushed and pouted. "Be quiet. I’m thinking." Astarion laughed at her antics again. "Okay. I have one I’ve been wondering for awhile."
"Oh? Do tell, my dear."
"What does... what does my blood taste like?" Aethelle tilted her head. "And don’t just say it tastes like blood. I mean to a vampire like yourself."
Astarion exhaled and smiled sweetly. "Well, young noble is certainly a full-bodied red, if I’m comparing you to wine." He furrowed his brow in thought. "A dry red with a touch of dark chocolate. Not bitter, but a tad tannic, like I have to drink another drop." He rubbed his chin. "And it leaves my entire body warm, like I’m suddenly intoxicated."
The sorceress blushed. "When you put it like that, no wonder you nearly drained me the first time."
"Well, you do taste exquisite, but in hindsight I suppose there may have been other reasons as well," the rogue cleared his throat.
"I believe it is my turn to ask you a question, my dear."
"Oh fine," Aethelle crossed her arms. "Go ahead."
"You certainly have a collection of jewels. Is there one in particular that’s your favorite?" asked Astarion nonchalantly, trying not to arouse suspicion.
"Hmm.. Oh! Give me a moment." She hopped up from the bed and rushed into the closet. Astarion heard a drawer open and close, and the sorceress brought over a gold chain in her hands. She handed it to Astarion, who brushed Aethelle’s hair aside and clasped it behind her. She turned around, her eyes glittering along with the gold.
The necklace was quite dainty in comparison to the lady’s fine jewelry used for social events. In the center of the golden necklace were two tiny daggers than ran along the chain, the points of each directed inward towards her sternum. The hilts of the daggers held a small ruby each. Between the points of the blades was a black diamond slightly bigger than the rubies, sitting comfortably in the notch between her collarbones.
"Ryn was quite close with his mother. She was the only one who he told about me, when we were kids," the sorceress smiled softly. "Well, actually, she found out rather quickly he had been sneaking off and wanted to know why," Aethelle touched the necklace as she laughed. "He told her the truth, the damned paladin. But she gave him this, to give to me." She lowered her eyes. "I never got to meet her, to thank her. But it was nice knowing that someone else, who I had never even spoken to, cared for me."
"Could she not do anything more for you?" asked Astarion.
"The Baroness, though of a higher rank, really couldn’t meddle in the private affairs of another noble family publicly, lest their reputation come into question," she explained. "I think she did help me, though. She never told Ryn to stop coming over. She would send him with books, sometimes snacks..." her voice trailed off as she smiled to the ceiling.
"Wait! You’ve got me rambling now. I want my question from before answered." Aethelle pointed at him, locking her gaze with his. "Your other reasons for nearly killing me when you drank from me the first time." She poked his chest indignantly.
The vampire chuckled. "Is it not obvious, my dear?" He ran his hand through her hair once more before placing it around her waist, pulling them closer.
"My other reason, in hindsight, was that I didn't realize how badly I wanted you."
Aethelle stood in the library, looking through the shelves of books softly illuminated by the moonlight. She did not yet find the need to enter her trance that night, and so she lingered amongst the bookshelves, her mind a cacophony of thoughts. The day's events had left her rather rattled. She could have awakened Astarion, who would have been more than willing to lend an ear, but she wanted him to rest. After all, tomorrow there could be a battle awaiting them, and it would not do them well to have two exhausted elves in their party. At least, that was what she told herself, as her real reason was that she did not want to cause him anymore concern. As she finally pulled a maroon book down from the wall, she heard the door click. Surprised, she whipped around to see a familiar wizard.
"Ah, my similarly magical companion," smiled Gale.
"Couldn't sleep?" asked Aethelle.
"No, not quite. Not when you have such a grand private library. I would ask the same of you, if you slept," smirked Gale.
"Usually I would have entered my trance by now, but I could not, after today." The sorceress smiled weakly at the wizard. He looked back at her worriedly.
"Sit with me, won't you?" Gale pulled out a chair for her at a nearby table, before seating himself. "What's on your mind?"
"Do you need to ask? I think we've both reached our quota for too powerful ex-lovers," laughed the sorceress.
"Indeed," he smiled. "In that regard, I believe I do owe you an apology."
"Surely not. Unless you're finally apologizing for simply being a wizard."
"Afraid not," he smirked. "I owe you an apology for failing to see how much more there is to you, after all this time."
"Well, now I am intrigued. Go on."
"I penned you as a sorceress born to magical power without having so much as to lift a finger. Not only that, one born to nobility in Baldur's Gate." Gale furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin. "I assumed you would never know what it was like to struggle. I realized some time ago that I was wrong about you. But now, I realize just how off I was."
"You needn't apologize," Aethelle smiled. "I would have probably thought the same, had our roles been reversed."
"Oh, don't be so humble, damn you," smirked Gale. "You know I've spent many nights awake pondering what to do about this orb," he said as he tapped his chest. "You know I've spent many nights thinking about the power the Crown of Karsus could award me. And you know I've spent many nights thinking about what I would do to appease Mystra once more." He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs. "Yet through it all, you have guided me without a second thought. And I foolishly assumed you did so for none other than the goodness of your heart. So here I am, quite the idiotic wizard, to not realize you had seen firsthand what power does to the people around you. And what power can do to you."
The sorceress looked down at the table, her hands in her lap.
"You warned me about the Crown because you knew where it would lead," continued Gale. "You knew it would lead to me hurting the people I care for, to the point I would truly be alone, forever."
Aethelle met his gaze. "Apology accepted."
"You have given me much empathy regarding Mystra. So let me say, that I am sorry about Torriel."
The sorceress breathed deeply. "Sometimes, I find myself thinking on the happier times we had spent together."
"And then you feel ashamed for even reveling in it, right?" Gale asked softly.
Aethelle's eyes widened. "Yes. I do."
"It's the same for me. Sometimes I think about the days where I did nothing more than talk about the magical discoveries I had made, and how proud Mystra was of me," he murmured. "Or the day she made me her Chosen. It's ironic, isn't it? To still feel happiness in a memory, even when someone has wronged you so."
"The cruelest irony imaginable."

Astarion cleared his throat. "I believe it is my turn to ask you a question?"

"Ah, yes. Go on, then."

"Do you prefer a sunny day, or a rainy one?"

Aethelle looked at him blankly.

"Do tell me what magic is my specialty."

He blinked, looked down, and laughed at himself, realizing the question he had just asked the storm sorceress. She laughed and laughed, holding him all the while. They asked their mundane questions to each other all night, until it was time for them to finally rest, where they held together still. Astarion did not think upon his original plan again that night. He simply had no time to. He was too busy being happy.

"What did I tell you, my dear?" said Astarion huskily. "Did I not tell you I would make you beg?"

The sorceress moaned in response, trying her best not to give in to the rogue's dominance. He gripped her thighs tightly, his face ever so close to her sheath. Feeling his warm breath upon her, but nothing else, was agony.

"That did not sound like a "please', my dear," Astarion replied smugly. He slowly led his fingers closer to her clit, but never quite all the way.

There was nothing the sorceress loathed more than giving the vampire exactly what he wanted. She was determined to hold out and make him crumble first.

"Surely you are getting bored down there, my love," replied Aethelle.

"Oh, not at all, my dear. Not at all." He traced a finger down her slit, spreading her slightly, before moving his hand away once again. She quivered but resisted it as best she could, not wanting to give away her lust.

"Don't fight it, my sweet," he rested his head on her thigh, whispering softly to her. "All you have to do is utter one simple word."

"No? So naughty today indeed. What am I going to have to do with you?" He dragged his tongue across her clit, sending another shiver down her body.

"Surely nothing in comparison to what I will eventually do to you," growled the sorceress.

"Such arrogant words for someone in such a compromising position as yourself," his voice was airy as he lazily toyed with her sheath.

"Must you always be so obstinate?" hissed Aethelle.

"I believe," he paused, slowly inserting a finger into her before pulling it back out, "you already know the answer to that question." She gasped quietly as he felt his touch leave her once more.

"How I do hate you, my love."

Astarion pretended to be shocked by her words. "What insolence you display today, my dear. I suppose I should try a bit harder." He climbed over her, and she looked up at him with her eyes wide. She felt him settle his length slightly into her warmth, causing her to squirm, but he moved no further. She looked up at him as he lay on top of her, still as stone, and he looked at her with a devil's smile incarnate.

She wriggled beneath him, only for him to place a hand firmly on her chest. "Ah, ah, ah, no cheating, my dear."

Aethelle pouted and looked away, feeling her face redden, trying to conceal it.

Astarion had one final card to play, knowing it would ultimately win him the tête-à-tête. He knew it would be absolutely agonizing for his lover, and he may indeed pay a price later for it, but at this point it was worth the risk.

He gently turned her face to his, tilting her chin up with his hand. He brought her lips just before his, enough to briefly brush against each other, but not quite enough to kiss her wholly.

She looked at him, her eyes wide, quickly darting from his eyes to his mouth. She furrowed her brow and hit her fists against his chest.

"Why, you absolute bastard!"

Astarion did not move. He simply snickered at her and smiled, inches from her face.

"Have you been planning that this whole time, you devil?"

Astarion laughed harder, his smile widening.

"You... you..." The sorceress's voice stammered as her eyes still darted from his eyes to his lips. She pouted, crossed her arms, and looked away. She glanced up at him once more, hoping he would stop this madness, but all he did was meet her gaze and smile at her ever so arrogantly.

She looked away once again and muttered under her breath. "Please."

"Did you say something, my dear?" asked Astarion. The sorceress scoffed indignantly.

"You bloody well heard me," she scowled.

"Oh I don't believe I did," his voice was positively wicked.

Aethelle sighed, her hands running up his arms before settling onto his back. She looked up at him sincerely from behind her lashes, meeting his steely gaze.

Aethelle let out a gasp as she suddenly felt Astarion’s length fully penetrate her. He slowly rocked back and forth on top of her, cupping her cheek, still looking at her with his smug face. He leaned down and finally kissed her, but left her lips once again to speak.

"Good girl," he murmured. "Now touch yourself."

Aethelle could not bear to hold out any longer. She bit her lip and nodded, her hand running down her body before settling on her clit. Astarion groaned and leaned down to kiss her again, before quickening his pace.

The sorceress closed her eyes, trying to regain any notion of self-preservation, but each of his thrusts rattled her mind. She was mad at how she had crumbled, but not too mad, as he simply felt too good. Everything Astarion did to her was devastatingly good.

She opened her eyes slightly, letting herself submit completely to him. She made no attempt to cull the noises from her lips. With her free hand she raised it to her breast, gently groping the stiffened peak.

Astarion bared his teeth at the sight as he felt the sorceress tighten around him. He couldn’t look away from the mess he had made of her.

"Would you like to cum, my dear?" the rogue asked huskily.

"I don’t think I need to repeat the rules, Aethelle."

He kissed her again as he forcefully bucked against her, her moans filling the room. Astarion felt himself writhe from inside her, as her body began to constrict further. Her face was melted with pleasure.

"Astarion..." her voice trailed off in between her panting. "You feel... you feel... I want to... I... I love you."

The two elves felt their bodies crumble from their orgasms, the waves of release ripping through them. Their bodies trembled against each other as Astarion collapsed on top of her, and the two held each other tightly. He tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear before leaning forwards to whisper gently into it.

The two elves lay in the bed together, cuddling and laughing, their arms and legs intertwined beneath the blankets.

"Okay, okay! Let me think of one," said the rogue.

"Think faster!" The sorceress giggled.

"What is your favorite book?" asked Astarion.

"Well, I certainly don’t enjoy dictionaries as much as Gale does." The two elves snorted. "I don’t know... hmm..." Aethelle’s voice trailed off as she thought, and suddenly her eyes went wide as she laughed. "I know what it is, but you’ll laugh at me!"

"Well now you simply must tell me," chuckled Astarion.

"Ugh..." she covered her face with her hands. "The Druid and his Belladonna."

Astarion gasped. "That smutty thing?" He howled with laughter. Aethelle buried her head into his chest to avoid his eyes.

"Leave me alone!" she whined.

"You must have been so excited when Halsin joined our camp."

The sorceress muffled her face into Astarion’s chest as she let out a mewl.

Astarion finally caught his breath from laughter. "Okay, okay. Your turn." He ran his hands through her hair, twirling a strand around his finger.

She leaned back up, her cheeks a deep red. "Fine," she muttered.

"Oh, my dear, you are so adorable when you’re flustered."

Aethelle blushed and pouted. "Be quiet. I’m thinking." Astarion laughed at her antics again. "Okay. I have one I’ve been wondering for awhile."

"Oh? Do tell, my dear."

"What does... what does my blood taste like?" Aethelle tilted her head. "And don’t just say it tastes like blood. I mean to a vampire like yourself."

Astarion exhaled and smiled sweetly. "Well, young noble is certainly a full-bodied red, if I’m comparing you to wine." He furrowed his brow in thought. "A dry red with a touch of dark chocolate. Not bitter, but a tad tannic, like I have to drink another drop." He rubbed his chin. "And it leaves my entire body warm, like I’m suddenly intoxicated."

The sorceress blushed. "When you put it like that, no wonder you nearly drained me the first time."

"Well, you do taste exquisite, but in hindsight I suppose there may have been other reasons as well," the rogue cleared his throat.

"I believe it is my turn to ask you a question, my dear."

"Oh fine," Aethelle crossed her arms. "Go ahead."

"You certainly have a collection of jewels. Is there one in particular that’s your favorite?" asked Astarion nonchalantly, trying not to arouse suspicion.

"Hmm.. Oh! Give me a moment." She hopped up from the bed and rushed into the closet. Astarion heard a drawer open and close, and the sorceress brought over a gold chain in her hands. She handed it to Astarion, who brushed Aethelle’s hair aside and clasped it behind her. She turned around, her eyes glittering along with the gold.

The necklace was quite dainty in comparison to the lady’s fine jewelry used for social events. In the center of the golden necklace were two tiny daggers than ran along the chain, the points of each directed inward towards her sternum. The hilts of the daggers held a small ruby each. Between the points of the blades was a black diamond slightly bigger than the rubies, sitting comfortably in the notch between her collarbones.

"Ryn was quite close with his mother. She was the only one who he told about me, when we were kids," the sorceress smiled softly. "Well, actually, she found out rather quickly he had been sneaking off and wanted to know why," Aethelle touched the necklace as she laughed. "He told her the truth, the damned paladin. But she gave him this, to give to me." She lowered her eyes. "I never got to meet her, to thank her. But it was nice knowing that someone else, who I had never even spoken to, cared for me."

"Could she not do anything more for you?" asked Astarion.

"The Baroness, though of a higher rank, really couldn’t meddle in the private affairs of another noble family publicly, lest their reputation come into question," she explained. "I think she did help me, though. She never told Ryn to stop coming over. She would send him with books, sometimes snacks..." her voice trailed off as she smiled to the ceiling.

"Wait! You’ve got me rambling now. I want my question from before answered." Aethelle pointed at him, locking her gaze with his. "Your other reasons for nearly killing me when you drank from me the first time." She poked his chest indignantly.

The vampire chuckled. "Is it not obvious, my dear?" He ran his hand through her hair once more before placing it around her waist, pulling them closer.

"My other reason, in hindsight, was that I didn't realize how badly I wanted you."

Aethelle stood in the library, looking through the shelves of books softly illuminated by the moonlight. She did not yet find the need to enter her trance that night, and so she lingered amongst the bookshelves, her mind a cacophony of thoughts. The day's events had left her rather rattled. She could have awakened Astarion, who would have been more than willing to lend an ear, but she wanted him to rest. After all, tomorrow there could be a battle awaiting them, and it would not do them well to have two exhausted elves in their party. At least, that was what she told herself, as her real reason was that she did not want to cause him anymore concern. As she finally pulled a maroon book down from the wall, she heard the door click. Surprised, she whipped around to see a familiar wizard.

"Ah, my similarly magical companion," smiled Gale.

"Couldn't sleep?" asked Aethelle.

"No, not quite. Not when you have such a grand private library. I would ask the same of you, if you slept," smirked Gale.

"Usually I would have entered my trance by now, but I could not, after today." The sorceress smiled weakly at the wizard. He looked back at her worriedly.

"Sit with me, won't you?" Gale pulled out a chair for her at a nearby table, before seating himself. "What's on your mind?"

"Do you need to ask? I think we've both reached our quota for too powerful ex-lovers," laughed the sorceress.

"Indeed," he smiled. "In that regard, I believe I do owe you an apology."

"Surely not. Unless you're finally apologizing for simply being a wizard."

"Afraid not," he smirked. "I owe you an apology for failing to see how much more there is to you, after all this time."

"Well, now I am intrigued. Go on."

"I penned you as a sorceress born to magical power without having so much as to lift a finger. Not only that, one born to nobility in Baldur's Gate." Gale furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin. "I assumed you would never know what it was like to struggle. I realized some time ago that I was wrong about you. But now, I realize just how off I was."

"You needn't apologize," Aethelle smiled. "I would have probably thought the same, had our roles been reversed."

"Oh, don't be so humble, damn you," smirked Gale. "You know I've spent many nights awake pondering what to do about this orb," he said as he tapped his chest. "You know I've spent many nights thinking about the power the Crown of Karsus could award me. And you know I've spent many nights thinking about what I would do to appease Mystra once more." He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs. "Yet through it all, you have guided me without a second thought. And I foolishly assumed you did so for none other than the goodness of your heart. So here I am, quite the idiotic wizard, to not realize you had seen firsthand what power does to the people around you. And what power can do to you."

The sorceress looked down at the table, her hands in her lap.

"You warned me about the Crown because you knew where it would lead," continued Gale. "You knew it would lead to me hurting the people I care for, to the point I would truly be alone, forever."

Aethelle met his gaze. "Apology accepted."

"You have given me much empathy regarding Mystra. So let me say, that I am sorry about Torriel."

The sorceress breathed deeply. "Sometimes, I find myself thinking on the happier times we had spent together."

"And then you feel ashamed for even reveling in it, right?" Gale asked softly.

Aethelle's eyes widened. "Yes. I do."

"It's the same for me. Sometimes I think about the days where I did nothing more than talk about the magical discoveries I had made, and how proud Mystra was of me," he murmured. "Or the day she made me her Chosen. It's ironic, isn't it? To still feel happiness in a memory, even when someone has wronged you so."

"The cruelest irony imaginable."