Chapter Text
Rolan was fed up with her antics, but he still agreed. A ghostly hope of getting something still loomed on the horizon. He'd already invested so much in this sordid endeavour... It was foolish to back out.
”Is it just me, or is there a mutual dislike between you and Astarion?”
”Gods, why should I!” - Rolan instantly caught the direction of her thoughts. Well why didn't she just ask to fuck her, maybe that's what she should have done without any conversation.
Tav continued without waiting for his response: ”Anyway, as you've already guessed, that's your next assignment. I thought it would be great if you wrote him a friendly letter and invited him to dinner, say, next week. Oh! And let's invite Alfira and everyone we know to the tower, and after dinner we'll organise a big party?! That would be real fun, wouldn't it?”
He was ready to fall into the Ever-Changing Chaos Of Limbo. It would be calmer there... Fun? For anyone but him. He'd rather be lost somewhere in Elturhel, never to meet that infernal beast named Tav, again. But despite his inner resistance, his lips were dry, and deep inside, an unbearable itch was growing that demanded satisfaction.
With a doomed sigh, he sank into the chair next to Tav. She dictated names enthusiastically, and Rolan wrote them down, sending the invitations one by one:
Not-so esteemed Astarion Ancunín,
I cannot (to my deepest regret) avoid inviting you to an event I am hosting at my tower.
Despite your attempts to destroy everything I hold dear, I sincerely hope this won’t turn into a complete disaster.
Given your tendency toward extravagant amusements, I strongly urge you to refrain from making our gathering too… bloodthirsty intense.
The evening will include food and drinks, but I would like to remind you that this time, it would be wise to refrain from turning the guests into your appetizers. Let’s try to make the celebration at least somewhat civilized.
I understand your eagerness to flaunt your immortal “charm,” but please try to maintain a shred of dignity so as not to ruin the evening for me everyone else.
Tav asks me to pass along that she awaits the celebration — and your pale face — with great anticipation.
With best regards (read with irony),
Rolan
Archmage and Master of Ramazith’s Tower
“Well? Are you satisfied now? Has the lady finally appeased her hunger?”
“There’s still room for improvement, Rolan,” she said, turning the letter over in her hands. It was written in a messy scrawl instead of the usual flawless handwriting of the Archmage. “But if this is the best you can manage right now, I suppose it’s… acceptable. Oh, and one more thing — this time, you’ll arrange a magical fireworks show for everyone, not just for Cal and Lia. I assure you, the audience’s enthusiastic applause is guaranteed.”
Her dutiful functionary nodded, resigned. Tav noticed how the twinkles of sunlight in the night — his eyes — had dimmed. He looked as if he were staring into a void, as if his edges were beginning to blur. Tav had hoped for a bit of fun, not to turn the Archmage into a shell of himself. So she decided to show mercy and reward his loyalty.
“All right, Rolan, come here,” she beckoned him. Tav was about to wet her finger and tease him with it again. But something went wrong. Her usual finesse and precision failed her, and there it was — a complete fumble.
The candy slipped from her mouth and dropped straight into her corset’s neckline. A wild scream burst from Rolan, and he instantly transformed into a feral creature. In one leap, he was upon Tav, pinning her to the floor and clutching at her chest like a starving infant. He had been wound up for too long. She had kept him on edge for far too long. Every fiber of his being was as taut as a bowstring.
“Well, where did your manners go, Rolan?” Tav kicked and struggled as best she could, but she didn’t have the strength to push the heavy Archmage off her — she was, after all, smaller than him.
He didn’t listen and continued tearing at her clothes in a frenzy. When Rolan finally reached what he desired, he eagerly grabbed the candy with his lips, licking every drop of its juice from her skin. Burying his face between her breasts, he completely lost himself. He couldn’t control his baser urges now. The candy’s intoxicating effects clouded his mind. Sweet, dizzying webs seemed to spread beneath his skin, thick as resin, flooding his veins. His body was covered in goosebumps as euphoria overtook his senses.
As his mind gradually returned, the Archmage found himself gripping her nipples tightly.
“Damn. I… lost control, Tav, I…” He loosened his grip and climbed off her.
“Get out, Rolan. You disgust me. What have you even turned into… Gods!” She rubbed the bruises on her leg where he’d crushed her with his tail without even noticing.
Realizing what he’d done, he coughed, as if he wanted to spit out the whole ordeal and scrub himself clean of it.
The tiefling threw the first rag he could find at her so she could cover herself, then hurried out. All he wanted now was to jump from the highest point of the tower.
“Filthy, disgusting, wretched addict — that’s what you are,” Rolan thought to himself as he locked himself in his room. He tried to sleep, but it was no use. His mind felt like jelly, drifting with jellyfish. His thoughts wandered and kept snagging on only one thing — Tav and her ridiculous demands.
What was wrong with him? Why was he even thinking about this? Could anyone else in the world get under his skin like this? The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and… And now this!?
At that moment, something happened that the Archmage had not anticipated at all — his body reacted. His entire being ached for more. He didn’t want to admit it to himself. No, he couldn’t! But his body signaled otherwise: he had enjoyed serving her. He had liked being on his knees, pleading for her forgiveness, and everything else.
He covered his arousal with a pillow and hit it with his hand, though it was a useless effort.
“Zurgan! What have I gotten myself into?”
In despair, Rolan threw the pillow to the floor and kicked it aside. He wrapped himself in his robe and headed straight to her. He’d gotten his enchanted candy, yet he still felt unsatisfied. And that terrified him.
The Archmage sensed this was bound to end in disaster, but he didn’t care. Tav had spent the entire day using him for her trivial whims. So why couldn’t he do the same with her?
When Rolan realized he’d been standing at her door for some time, holding his breath, he exhaled, exhausted and vulnerable.
“Get it together, you pathetic mess. A helpless slug, a snail without a shell.”
Three loud, hurried knocks. Tav opened the door and stared at him in surprise.
“My lady…”
“Are you drunk now? Or still high?” she asked warily, rubbing her eyes.
“No, no. Just… order me to do something, please.”
“That’s easy. I order you to get the hell out and stop banging on my door in the middle of the night!” she snapped venomously, slamming the door shut.
The Archmage knocked insistently again. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Damn, he would sacrifice his horns for this. His ego was utterly crushed, and yet he was only getting more worked up. How had she done this to him when he had managed to hate her in just half a day? It was unlikely he would ever find an answer to that question. No amount of knowledge in magic would help him here.
Almost sobbing, Rolan repeated his plea, and the door swung open.
“Anything I wish? Okay, puppy, get on your knees. Now you’re going to learn about my dirty little thoughts. And you still owe me for this,” Tav pointed out the bruises she had received because of him.
When Rolan fell to his knees before her, she leaned in and whispered in his ear, her eyes filled with smug mischief.
“Well, let’s see if you can do anything right.”
Tav made him worship every inch of her, and then she had Rolan read aloud silly poems about love.