mickume/dnd_drow · Datasets at Hugging Face

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Aethelle leaned back up before angling her hips, guiding his length into her slit. She met Astarion's gaze as he looked at her, dazed in lust and astonishment. She sat herself down on top of him, eliciting soft moans from them both. As she wriggled her body to fit him even further inside her, she raised her hand up to her mouth and softly bit the joint of her index finger, stifling any more indecent noise from herself. She glanced up at Astarion again, his face stricken with pleasure.
Once she had collected herself, she placed her hands against his chest and began to move her hips. She bucked slowly at first, finding the proper angle for both of them. Once she heard Astarion's groans of approval, Aethelle quickened her pace. He raised one hand to her thigh and gripped it tightly, the other finding her clit and rubbing it in circles. She gasped at the feeling, and she felt her body squirm from his touch.
As she writhed from the pleasure, she felt him throb inside her in response, her every move enticing him. He looked at her hungrily, and leaned up to meet her, still sitting beneath her legs. He propped his hands behind himself for balance, and she replaced his hand on her clit with her own. Aethelle looked down at him, his face ever so close to hers, and kissed his forehead. He responded by taking her breast into his mouth, softly biting down on her soft skin.
Aethelle felt her body tighten from on top of him and moaned softly, the gentle shudders running down her body. Astarion groaned into her chest, feeling her constrict around him more and more. He brought one arm up around her back, pulling her closer to him, the pad of his tongue pressed against her nipple.
All at once, the feeling was too much, and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her moan. She felt the pleasure in waves across her body as her knees trembled. Astarion gripped her hips to balance her, groaning at the feeling constricting around his cock. She felt his girth twitch and release inside her as he groaned into her skin, trying to muffle himself. They both fell back down onto the bedrolls, exhausted and disconcerted, holding each other still.
Astarion finally broke their silence. "I thought of something I wanted to ask you."
Aethelle peered up, their faces inches apart. "What is it?"
"Do you have a favorite animal?"
She laughed softly. "I suppose owlbear is certainly making my way up on the list."
The two lay there, asking each other questions, until they once again rested in each other's arms.
He awakened next to her in the tent and rubbed his eyes. He had gotten too used to the light spilling in from the morning, as the Underdark's crushing darkness confused him for a moment. He was even more confused when he saw the sorceress laying there, breathing softly.
His mind raced, staring at the top of the tent. What was that, last night? He had been doing a good job sticking to his act, but in one single sentence she seemed to have thrown all his plans out the window. "I could never leave you", she had said to him. He was so confused at her words, because at first she seemed utterly terrified to be there with him, which only made himself feel more disgusted at his actions. Then out of nowhere, she turned his mind upside down with five seemingly innocuous words.
Not only that, he was planning on seducing her, but somehow he ended up the one utterly under her control. He turned to face her, the sorceress still meditating softly. Did she know what he had planned? No, she couldn't have. If she knew, she would never speak to him again. But, at this rate, he probably ought to tell her. He couldn't bear to never speak to her again. He couldn't bear it if she left.
Astarion’s eyes grew wide. No, it couldn't be. He felt his heart surge in his chest. Had he... did he truly feel something for Aethelle? Impossible. He was a vampire. A vampire wasn't supposed to feel anything. He wasn't supposed to feel anything. Yet he thought back on the time they spent together, his denial every time his heart fluttered in his chest, her gaze meeting his being enough of a reason for him to catch his breath. He thought of the way he laughed when she teased him, the way she asked him her silly little questions about him. He thought of the way she raged against their enemies when they grazed him in a fight. He thought of the way she didn't kill him when he told her he was a vampire, and instead Aethelle let him drink the blood from her very neck.
Astarion’s throat tightened and the shame washed over him. For someone who had lived for two centuries, how could he have been so stupid? He never needed to manipulate her. He never needed a plan. He was just acting as he always had, a slave to a master. But his master was not here, nor did he have any control of him. So why did he treat the one person who treated him kindly, so awfully? If there was ever a chance for him to be worthy of her love, it was certainly ruined now. He felt disgusting. How was he any different to the man who enslaved him?
"Astarion?" the sorceress said lazily.
"Y-yes, my dear?"
She immediately noticed his voice crack. "Are you alright?"
"Do you need to feed? You might feel better," she replied.
"You are too kind to me, my dear sorceress," he said softly.
"On the contrary, my dear rogue," she said playfully, brushing the hair from her neck. "I don't think I can be kind enough to you."
He leaned in, hesitantly breaking the skin with his fangs, drinking her blood. And for the first time since he had become a vampire all those years ago, it only made him feel worse.
"Do you have a moment?" Astarion said softly as Aethelle walked by. "I think we need to talk."
She was taken aback. Ever since they spent the night together for the second time, he had been kind to her, but seemingly avoided her in certain moments. She had assumed what she knew would happen had finally become true: that he didn't care for her and never would. She had hoped it wouldn't feel as terrible, since she was prepared for the inevitable outcome, but after a few nights into their trek into the Shadow-Cursed Lands, she had found a dark spot of the camp to sit alone and cry softly into her knees.
The sorceress collected herself, pushing down the flutter in her heart.
"Are you all right?"
"Oh yes, I'm fine. I just... feel awful." He exhaled, trying to calm the tightness in his throat.
"Look, I had a plan," he began, his eyes wide with sadness. "A nice, simple plan - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me." Astarion laughed nervously, trying to make the words that came from his mouth feel lighter than they were.
Every word he spoke was a dagger to her heart. This was somehow worse than him ignoring her. It must have been clear on her face, because he looked at her as if he had just dealt her a killing blow.
He averted his gaze from hers for a moment, trying to find the strength to continue.
"It was easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was not fall for it." He exhaled sharply, his eyes anguished.
"And all I had to do was not fall for you... Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart."
Her hazel eyes widened and her heart fluttered. Could this really be... real?
"You... you're incredible." His voice trembled as he continued. "You deserve something real. I want us to be something real."
Aethelle blinked. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and her heart soar, but her mind was raging at her. She loved Torriel once, only for him to manipulate her, too. But, this time it felt a bit different. Where Torriel chose to never confess the truth to her, and drive a dagger through the very heart that had loved him, Astarion was telling her the truth. At least, it felt like the truth. She needed to know more.
"Did the nights..." her breath hitched. "So the nights we spent together didn't mean anything to you?" She felt the tears well in her eyes as she held his gaze.
"Of course they did!" Astarion leaned in, panic in his voice. "That's the problem! Or part of it."
He sighed. "Being close to someone, any kind of intimacy, was something I performed to... lure people back for him." He looked down at the ground for a moment, before looking back up at her.
"Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels... tainted. Still brings up all those feelings of disgust and loathing." Each word was more difficult for him to speak, but he knew he had to tell her the truth of how he felt, no matter how badly it hurt.
"I don't know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I'd like to." He stared at the ground in his shame.
Every puzzle piece in Aethelle's mind now suddenly fit together.
"I care about you," she said gently. "Deeply."
Astarion’s eyes darted back up at her, his voice was hushed. "Really?"
Aethelle smiled and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his torso tightly. He stood there in shock. When was the last time someone had held him, with no expectations of him whatsoever?
He slowly wrapped his arms around her, the simple hug treading unknown waters for the vampire. He felt her breathing easily into his chest and her arms holding him firmly. After a moment, she stepped back once more.
"You... you are full of surprises, aren't you?" asked Astarion, bewildered.
Aethelle smiled warmly at him.
"Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing." Astarion grinned like a little kid as he spoke, the sweet relief pouring over him like the warmth of sunlight. "Or what comes next."
He held out his palm to her. She took his hand as he stepped forward, holding hers in both his hands.
"But I know that this? This is nice."
It was real. This was real. There was no deception in his voice. It was only the truth. And for the first time in so long, Aethelle felt like she could love again.
"Your dress looked so lovely, Shadowheart!" Aethelle smiled as she opened the door to her home. They each held a patterned box adorned with ribbon, their gowns for the next day inside. "Blue really is a nice color on you."
"Thank you," the cleric replied. "Yours will certainly turn some heads."
"Indeed," the sorceress smiled wickedly. "I want to see that vampire hit the ground in shock."
The two women's laughter echoed through the walls of the estate.
"Do you think they're back yet?" asked Shadowheart.
"Absolutely not. In fact, they probably died on the way there, and we should continue this plan without them." Their laughter filled the room.
The two of them walked back into the empty lounge. They sat down as they waited for the men to join them, the golden sunset spilling in from the windows against purple skies.
"Shadowheart, I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Always here to be your counsel. What do you need?" The cleric took a nearby bottle of wine to the table, pouring some of the red in her glass, then Aethelle's.
"I wanted to offer you... I don't know what your future plans are when we're done with our adventure," the sorceress said slowly. "But you always have a place in my home, Jenevelle."
Shadowheart looked at her friend with a mix of sadness and shock. She had hoped to have been going home with her parents when this was all over. Even that had been taken from her. She had decided not to make any more plans for the future, lest those be ripped from her as well.
"I want to..." the cleric paused, and stared into the chalice as she swirled the liquid inside. "When I look at you and Ryn... when I think on my parents..." The cleric's breath hitched. "It makes me wonder what having a family is really like. I was so close... only to have my parents taken from me, and it's thrown me back into this terrible world of wondering again."
Aethelle extended her palm to her from across the table. Shadowheart took her hand.
"What will I do, Aethelle, if you are taken from me, too?"
"Shadowheart, look at me."
The cleric looked up, meeting the sorceress's unrelenting gaze.
"We will get through this, I promise you that much," Aethelle squeezed her hand. "You are a sister to me, Shadowheart. You are as much family to me as Ryn. I won't let us fail. I can't allow it."
"You truly think so highly of me?" asked the cleric meekly.
"How could I not?" Aethelle smiled warmly at her.
The cleric felt the tears well in her eyes. All her life, she had never felt truly close to anyone, aside from what she could barely remember of Nocturne. But even she was gone. Shadowheart had lost so much more than she could have ever fathomed over the course of a few weeks. Her heart ached for her parents, but warmed at Aethelle’s words. The present wasn’t quite how she envisioned it, but perhaps her family had been with her all along on this journey, since she first laid eyes upon the raven-haired sorceress in the nautiloid.
"Then I would be a fool to not accept your offer," smiled Shadowheart, struggling not to cry.
"I've always wanted a sister. Come here, you damned cleric!" The sorceress laughed, getting up from her chair and pulling Shadowheart up as well. Aethelle embraced her, and the two friends held each other for a moment.
Shadowheart buried her face Aethelle's shoulder. "Thank you," she said weakly. Aethelle laid a hand on the cleric's head, holding her close, as she quietly wept.
After a few moments, the cleric pulled herself back and wiped her eyes.
"As long as I can have the room furthest from yours. I actually have to sleep, whereas you and Astarion rarely do."
The sorceress gasped. "Shadowheart!"
Shadowheart laughed until her ribs hurt, and Aethelle couldn't help but laugh too.
"One more question," Aethelle began, wiping the tear from her eye. "Can I do your hair for the ball tomorrow?" asked the sorceress, giving Shadowheart the biggest puppy eyes she could muster.
Shadowheart laughed. "I would love that."
Suddenly, the doors to the lounge burst open.
"I am NEVER doing that AGAIN!" Ryn yelled as he stomped in angrily, holding three wrapped boxes decorated similarly to their gown boxes.
"Oh, they're alive. Surprising," remarked Shadowheart, sitting back down with disinterest.
"Unfortunately, Ryn, as Baron, you most likely will have to get fitted until you die," replied Aethelle.
Ryn set the boxes on the ground before collapsing into a chair. In one swift motion, he pulled the sword from his back, and handed the hilt to the sorceress.
"Just kill me now."
Much to everyone's surprise, she raised up the sword, preparing to strike between his ribs.
"I was joking, Aethelflaed!" shouted Ryn. "Joking!"
Aethelle laughed out. "Oh come on, how could I not?" She handed the hilt back to him, before he returned it to its sheath.
"Gods, I love you." Astarion looked at Aethelle dreamily as he walked over to her.
"I love you, too." She took the vampire's hands in hers.
"Please be quiet, both of you," muttered Ryn, "Or I will drive the sword through my chest myself."
"I somehow don't think that's going to dissuade them," remarked Gale. "In fact, the opposite effect would probably occur," he said as he took a seat at the table.
"I would be more than happy to kill you, for you," Shadowheart said dryly, gesturing to Ryn.
"Only if you split my skull in two," replied the paladin.
"Of course. I'd twist my spear until the eyes rolled out of your head," added the cleric.
Aethelle leaned over to whisper in Astarion's ear. "Are they flirting?"
He leaned to her ear and whispered back. "By the gods, I think they are."
Gale turned to Aethelle indignantly. "You don't happen to have any other friends I don't know of, do you? Conveniently single, loves wizards, something like that?"
"Actually, I believe Ryn's sister—"

Aethelle leaned back up before angling her hips, guiding his length into her slit. She met Astarion's gaze as he looked at her, dazed in lust and astonishment. She sat herself down on top of him, eliciting soft moans from them both. As she wriggled her body to fit him even further inside her, she raised her hand up to her mouth and softly bit the joint of her index finger, stifling any more indecent noise from herself. She glanced up at Astarion again, his face stricken with pleasure.

Once she had collected herself, she placed her hands against his chest and began to move her hips. She bucked slowly at first, finding the proper angle for both of them. Once she heard Astarion's groans of approval, Aethelle quickened her pace. He raised one hand to her thigh and gripped it tightly, the other finding her clit and rubbing it in circles. She gasped at the feeling, and she felt her body squirm from his touch.

As she writhed from the pleasure, she felt him throb inside her in response, her every move enticing him. He looked at her hungrily, and leaned up to meet her, still sitting beneath her legs. He propped his hands behind himself for balance, and she replaced his hand on her clit with her own. Aethelle looked down at him, his face ever so close to hers, and kissed his forehead. He responded by taking her breast into his mouth, softly biting down on her soft skin.

Aethelle felt her body tighten from on top of him and moaned softly, the gentle shudders running down her body. Astarion groaned into her chest, feeling her constrict around him more and more. He brought one arm up around her back, pulling her closer to him, the pad of his tongue pressed against her nipple.

All at once, the feeling was too much, and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her moan. She felt the pleasure in waves across her body as her knees trembled. Astarion gripped her hips to balance her, groaning at the feeling constricting around his cock. She felt his girth twitch and release inside her as he groaned into her skin, trying to muffle himself. They both fell back down onto the bedrolls, exhausted and disconcerted, holding each other still.

Astarion finally broke their silence. "I thought of something I wanted to ask you."

Aethelle peered up, their faces inches apart. "What is it?"

"Do you have a favorite animal?"

She laughed softly. "I suppose owlbear is certainly making my way up on the list."

The two lay there, asking each other questions, until they once again rested in each other's arms.

He awakened next to her in the tent and rubbed his eyes. He had gotten too used to the light spilling in from the morning, as the Underdark's crushing darkness confused him for a moment. He was even more confused when he saw the sorceress laying there, breathing softly.

His mind raced, staring at the top of the tent. What was that, last night? He had been doing a good job sticking to his act, but in one single sentence she seemed to have thrown all his plans out the window. "I could never leave you", she had said to him. He was so confused at her words, because at first she seemed utterly terrified to be there with him, which only made himself feel more disgusted at his actions. Then out of nowhere, she turned his mind upside down with five seemingly innocuous words.

Not only that, he was planning on seducing her, but somehow he ended up the one utterly under her control. He turned to face her, the sorceress still meditating softly. Did she know what he had planned? No, she couldn't have. If she knew, she would never speak to him again. But, at this rate, he probably ought to tell her. He couldn't bear to never speak to her again. He couldn't bear it if she left.

Astarion’s eyes grew wide. No, it couldn't be. He felt his heart surge in his chest. Had he... did he truly feel something for Aethelle? Impossible. He was a vampire. A vampire wasn't supposed to feel anything. He wasn't supposed to feel anything. Yet he thought back on the time they spent together, his denial every time his heart fluttered in his chest, her gaze meeting his being enough of a reason for him to catch his breath. He thought of the way he laughed when she teased him, the way she asked him her silly little questions about him. He thought of the way she raged against their enemies when they grazed him in a fight. He thought of the way she didn't kill him when he told her he was a vampire, and instead Aethelle let him drink the blood from her very neck.

Astarion’s throat tightened and the shame washed over him. For someone who had lived for two centuries, how could he have been so stupid? He never needed to manipulate her. He never needed a plan. He was just acting as he always had, a slave to a master. But his master was not here, nor did he have any control of him. So why did he treat the one person who treated him kindly, so awfully? If there was ever a chance for him to be worthy of her love, it was certainly ruined now. He felt disgusting. How was he any different to the man who enslaved him?

"Astarion?" the sorceress said lazily.

"Y-yes, my dear?"

She immediately noticed his voice crack. "Are you alright?"

"Do you need to feed? You might feel better," she replied.

"You are too kind to me, my dear sorceress," he said softly.

"On the contrary, my dear rogue," she said playfully, brushing the hair from her neck. "I don't think I can be kind enough to you."

He leaned in, hesitantly breaking the skin with his fangs, drinking her blood. And for the first time since he had become a vampire all those years ago, it only made him feel worse.

"Do you have a moment?" Astarion said softly as Aethelle walked by. "I think we need to talk."

She was taken aback. Ever since they spent the night together for the second time, he had been kind to her, but seemingly avoided her in certain moments. She had assumed what she knew would happen had finally become true: that he didn't care for her and never would. She had hoped it wouldn't feel as terrible, since she was prepared for the inevitable outcome, but after a few nights into their trek into the Shadow-Cursed Lands, she had found a dark spot of the camp to sit alone and cry softly into her knees.

The sorceress collected herself, pushing down the flutter in her heart.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine. I just... feel awful." He exhaled, trying to calm the tightness in his throat.

"Look, I had a plan," he began, his eyes wide with sadness. "A nice, simple plan - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me." Astarion laughed nervously, trying to make the words that came from his mouth feel lighter than they were.

Every word he spoke was a dagger to her heart. This was somehow worse than him ignoring her. It must have been clear on her face, because he looked at her as if he had just dealt her a killing blow.

He averted his gaze from hers for a moment, trying to find the strength to continue.

"It was easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was not fall for it." He exhaled sharply, his eyes anguished.

"And all I had to do was not fall for you... Which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart."

Her hazel eyes widened and her heart fluttered. Could this really be... real?

"You... you're incredible." His voice trembled as he continued. "You deserve something real. I want us to be something real."

Aethelle blinked. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and her heart soar, but her mind was raging at her. She loved Torriel once, only for him to manipulate her, too. But, this time it felt a bit different. Where Torriel chose to never confess the truth to her, and drive a dagger through the very heart that had loved him, Astarion was telling her the truth. At least, it felt like the truth. She needed to know more.

"Did the nights..." her breath hitched. "So the nights we spent together didn't mean anything to you?" She felt the tears well in her eyes as she held his gaze.

"Of course they did!" Astarion leaned in, panic in his voice. "That's the problem! Or part of it."

He sighed. "Being close to someone, any kind of intimacy, was something I performed to... lure people back for him." He looked down at the ground for a moment, before looking back up at her.

"Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels... tainted. Still brings up all those feelings of disgust and loathing." Each word was more difficult for him to speak, but he knew he had to tell her the truth of how he felt, no matter how badly it hurt.

"I don't know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I'd like to." He stared at the ground in his shame.

Every puzzle piece in Aethelle's mind now suddenly fit together.

"I care about you," she said gently. "Deeply."

Astarion’s eyes darted back up at her, his voice was hushed. "Really?"

Aethelle smiled and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his torso tightly. He stood there in shock. When was the last time someone had held him, with no expectations of him whatsoever?

He slowly wrapped his arms around her, the simple hug treading unknown waters for the vampire. He felt her breathing easily into his chest and her arms holding him firmly. After a moment, she stepped back once more.

"You... you are full of surprises, aren't you?" asked Astarion, bewildered.

Aethelle smiled warmly at him.

"Honestly, I have no idea what we're doing." Astarion grinned like a little kid as he spoke, the sweet relief pouring over him like the warmth of sunlight. "Or what comes next."

He held out his palm to her. She took his hand as he stepped forward, holding hers in both his hands.

"But I know that this? This is nice."

It was real. This was real. There was no deception in his voice. It was only the truth. And for the first time in so long, Aethelle felt like she could love again.

"Your dress looked so lovely, Shadowheart!" Aethelle smiled as she opened the door to her home. They each held a patterned box adorned with ribbon, their gowns for the next day inside. "Blue really is a nice color on you."

"Thank you," the cleric replied. "Yours will certainly turn some heads."

"Indeed," the sorceress smiled wickedly. "I want to see that vampire hit the ground in shock."

The two women's laughter echoed through the walls of the estate.

"Do you think they're back yet?" asked Shadowheart.

"Absolutely not. In fact, they probably died on the way there, and we should continue this plan without them." Their laughter filled the room.

The two of them walked back into the empty lounge. They sat down as they waited for the men to join them, the golden sunset spilling in from the windows against purple skies.

"Shadowheart, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Always here to be your counsel. What do you need?" The cleric took a nearby bottle of wine to the table, pouring some of the red in her glass, then Aethelle's.

"I wanted to offer you... I don't know what your future plans are when we're done with our adventure," the sorceress said slowly. "But you always have a place in my home, Jenevelle."

Shadowheart looked at her friend with a mix of sadness and shock. She had hoped to have been going home with her parents when this was all over. Even that had been taken from her. She had decided not to make any more plans for the future, lest those be ripped from her as well.

"I want to..." the cleric paused, and stared into the chalice as she swirled the liquid inside. "When I look at you and Ryn... when I think on my parents..." The cleric's breath hitched. "It makes me wonder what having a family is really like. I was so close... only to have my parents taken from me, and it's thrown me back into this terrible world of wondering again."

Aethelle extended her palm to her from across the table. Shadowheart took her hand.

"What will I do, Aethelle, if you are taken from me, too?"

"Shadowheart, look at me."

The cleric looked up, meeting the sorceress's unrelenting gaze.

"We will get through this, I promise you that much," Aethelle squeezed her hand. "You are a sister to me, Shadowheart. You are as much family to me as Ryn. I won't let us fail. I can't allow it."

"You truly think so highly of me?" asked the cleric meekly.

"How could I not?" Aethelle smiled warmly at her.

The cleric felt the tears well in her eyes. All her life, she had never felt truly close to anyone, aside from what she could barely remember of Nocturne. But even she was gone. Shadowheart had lost so much more than she could have ever fathomed over the course of a few weeks. Her heart ached for her parents, but warmed at Aethelle’s words. The present wasn’t quite how she envisioned it, but perhaps her family had been with her all along on this journey, since she first laid eyes upon the raven-haired sorceress in the nautiloid.

"Then I would be a fool to not accept your offer," smiled Shadowheart, struggling not to cry.

"I've always wanted a sister. Come here, you damned cleric!" The sorceress laughed, getting up from her chair and pulling Shadowheart up as well. Aethelle embraced her, and the two friends held each other for a moment.

Shadowheart buried her face Aethelle's shoulder. "Thank you," she said weakly. Aethelle laid a hand on the cleric's head, holding her close, as she quietly wept.

After a few moments, the cleric pulled herself back and wiped her eyes.

"As long as I can have the room furthest from yours. I actually have to sleep, whereas you and Astarion rarely do."

The sorceress gasped. "Shadowheart!"

Shadowheart laughed until her ribs hurt, and Aethelle couldn't help but laugh too.

"One more question," Aethelle began, wiping the tear from her eye. "Can I do your hair for the ball tomorrow?" asked the sorceress, giving Shadowheart the biggest puppy eyes she could muster.

Shadowheart laughed. "I would love that."

Suddenly, the doors to the lounge burst open.

"I am NEVER doing that AGAIN!" Ryn yelled as he stomped in angrily, holding three wrapped boxes decorated similarly to their gown boxes.

"Oh, they're alive. Surprising," remarked Shadowheart, sitting back down with disinterest.

"Unfortunately, Ryn, as Baron, you most likely will have to get fitted until you die," replied Aethelle.

Ryn set the boxes on the ground before collapsing into a chair. In one swift motion, he pulled the sword from his back, and handed the hilt to the sorceress.

"Just kill me now."

Much to everyone's surprise, she raised up the sword, preparing to strike between his ribs.

"I was joking, Aethelflaed!" shouted Ryn. "Joking!"

Aethelle laughed out. "Oh come on, how could I not?" She handed the hilt back to him, before he returned it to its sheath.

"Gods, I love you." Astarion looked at Aethelle dreamily as he walked over to her.

"I love you, too." She took the vampire's hands in hers.

"Please be quiet, both of you," muttered Ryn, "Or I will drive the sword through my chest myself."

"I somehow don't think that's going to dissuade them," remarked Gale. "In fact, the opposite effect would probably occur," he said as he took a seat at the table.

"I would be more than happy to kill you, for you," Shadowheart said dryly, gesturing to Ryn.

"Only if you split my skull in two," replied the paladin.

"Of course. I'd twist my spear until the eyes rolled out of your head," added the cleric.

Aethelle leaned over to whisper in Astarion's ear. "Are they flirting?"

He leaned to her ear and whispered back. "By the gods, I think they are."

Gale turned to Aethelle indignantly. "You don't happen to have any other friends I don't know of, do you? Conveniently single, loves wizards, something like that?"

"Actually, I believe Ryn's sister—"