Work Text:
"Rolan! You have to get married!" — Lia blurted this out right at breakfast.
Rolan froze with his glass in hand, then sharply turned to his sister, staring intently at her tired, yet extremely serious face.
"I have to... what?" — he asked, not believing his ears.
"Get married! You're an archmage now. You have status, and you're in the public eye. Damn journalists found out you're single and wrote that ridiculous article, and..."
Rolan frowned and took a sip of wine.
"What article?" — he asked cautiously.
A laugh came from the other side of the table. His brother, Cal, quoted from memory:
"'The new Archmage has been named the sexiest bachelor of Baldur's Gate.'"
Rolan choked.
"Zurgan!" — he gasped, coughing. "Maybe you both could finally start reading something more respectable than tabloid trash? Just think about it! You live in a tower with one of the rarest libraries, have access to any books, and instead…"
Lia interrupted his tirade, gesturing irritably with her hands: "It's not about that! The problem is your new admirers, who are becoming more and more persistent every day! Hundreds of letters, all smelling of perfume, and often cheap ones at that... I have to manually sift through the important correspondence, and yesterday I spent an entire hour explaining to one pushy woman that you don’t see visitors without an appointment!”
She shook her head and, crossing her arms over her chest, stared at him intently:
“Rolan, you're a grown man. You have a huge tower, a position, work... It’s really time for you to settle down."
Rolan sighed in resignation:
"Fine, I'll think about it, but only if it makes you shut up."
"Think about it? As if we don’t all know who 'exactly' will be your sweet little wife," - Cal chimed in, and he and Lia both started giggling.
"What?!"
"Oh, come on," - Cal smirked. - "You're too obvious. Even if you think you're hiding it well."
"What. Do. You. Mean?" - Rolan narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping dangerously low, and why did these troglodytes always manage to get under his skin...
"What do I mean?" — Cal chuckled, making faces and mimicking his brother. — "Tav, shall I pour you some wine? Tav, want to read together? Tav, will you have dinner with us? Tav..."
"Hush you!" — Rolan barked, feeling the heat rush to his face. — "She’s my friend, not my damn girlfriend!"
Cal just smirked and shook his head.
Of course, Rolan felt a whole spectrum of emotions toward Tav. How could he not? She saved his red hide from certain death, she saved his family, she helped him become an archmage, and even saved this damned world.
And she was damned beautiful. But did he have the right to want more? To demand her — all of her, without reservation?
"Well, it's your call, but decide soon before your fans start storming the tower or slipping love potions into your food."
Lia cast a glance at his plate.
"By the way... where did that pastry come from?"
Rolan froze. Then, slowly, he lowered his gaze to the dessert in his hands. The next second, he violently shoved it aside, desperately spitting out the remains.
***
Tav stepped into the Archmage's tower and found Lia, deeply focused as she sorted through some papers. Over the past few months, Rolan’s sister had essentially become his personal secretary, keeping order in the endless stream of work.
Tav’s attention was drawn to a tall stack of letters, many of them pink.
She frowned, grabbed one of the letters, and flipped it over in her hands. On the envelope, oh gods, there were... little hearts?! And in the recipient field, none other than Archmage Rolan was listed.
"What... is this?" — Tav asked, concern evident in her voice as she shook the letter in her hand.
"Oh, these?" Lia replied, not looking up. "Love letters. From women... and not just them. They all dream of being the companion of a man of status..."
"Oh? Ooo... Oh." — Tav could barely manage to squeeze out, her mind racing.
Almost with disgust, she shoved the letter back into the pile, her eyes darting nervously.
"Tav? Are you okay?"
"Me? Uh... yeah... no..." — she swallowed nervously. — "I think I’m a little... sick."
Lia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Tav looked the same as always, no signs of illness. Shrugging, Lia sighed and returned to her work.
Tav, not saying another word, stretched out her hand. One quick incantation — and from her finger erupted a narrow pillar of flame, instantly turning the letters into a handful of ashes.
Lia swore, jumping back:
"What the hell are you doing!?"
"Oh, that was totally an accident! I don’t know..." — Tav desperately tried to put on an innocent face.
Lia raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp with suspicion.
"Really? You don’t know? One of the most powerful sorceresses in the city ‘accidentally’ casts a spell?" — She wasn’t buying this nonsense.
“When I’m sick, I… I’m not myself!” — Tav blurted out, taking a step back.
Lia opened her mouth to respond, but just then, the door slammed open, and a stranger burst into the room.
A young woman, dressed in tight clothing that emphasized her very noticeable curves, smiled as she entered:
"Hi! I want to become the Archmage’s apprentice... I want to learn magic from him."
Tav slowly shifted her gaze to Lia.
Lia slowly shifted her gaze to Tav.
Tav narrowed her eyes, giving the young woman a thorough once-over. Before Lia had a chance to respond, Tav stepped forward and calmly said:
"Really? Then show me the simplest spells you already know. Please."
"Show you? Oh. Well, I need to get in the right mindset..." — The stranger blinked in confusion, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.
There’s no magic in her at all, Tav realized, and continued:
"You know what?" — she suggested with a tight smile. — "It would be best if you wrote a letter to the Archmage."
"Really?" — The girl brightened, her eyes sparkling with hope.
"Really," Tav confirmed, barely holding back a sly smirk. — "He will definitely respond."
Satisfied, the girl nodded, apologized, and quickly hurried off.
Lia watched the girl leave, then slowly turned to Tav, her mouth slightly open, clearly about to ask a million questions.
But as soon as their eyes met, all the words got stuck in her throat. Tav's gaze clearly said: "Not a word more."
Lia sighed heavily and returned to her papers. Another day in the Archmage's tower was shaping up to be exceptionally long.
***
When Rolan entered the reception room, the first thing that caught his eye was the blackened scorch mark on the table.
"Zurgan! This is a red oak table! Who the hell did this?!" — He froze, then his tail flicked irritably.
"It was Tav," — Lia said flatly, not even bothering to look up from her papers.
Tav, standing off to the side, nervously cleared her throat.
Rolan blinked, finally noticing her:
"Oh, Tav? Hey... How are you? I mean... why my table?" — He ran a hand over his face, exhaling heavily. — "Alright, never mind."
The Archmage's anger noticeably subsided, and taking advantage of the moment, Lia lazily added:
"Oh, and she just kicked one of your potential apprentices out the door..."
Rolan slowly turned his head toward Tav.
Tav greeted him with a flawless, innocent smile.
Lia smirked and flipped the page of her papers.
Tav’s cheeks instantly turned crimson, and she hissed at Lia:
"Can you be quiet for just one second?!"
But it was too late.
Rolan crossed his arms over his chest, staring at her intently.
"You did what?"
Tav straightened up, trying to look confident.
"The cat at the fish stall has more magic flowing through it than that girl," — she countered. — "I just made your job easier."
"But you didn’t even let me take a look, you didn’t even tell me! Why?!"
Tav opened her mouth... and immediately realized she had no coherent explanation. She began stammering, stumbling over her words, cursing herself for not being able to just fall straight into hell right now.
Rolan, not waiting for an answer, let out a heavy sigh, grabbed her by the wrist, and decisively dragged her toward his office.
The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Lia alone.
She smirked, gave a satisfied hum, and walked off.
“Finally”.
***
"What the hell is going on, Tav?!" — Rolan stormed into the office, his voice echoing through the room. — "First you scorch my table, then you make decisions for me! Has a worm eaten your brain?"
Tav, without taking her eyes off his face, replied, trying not to let her irritation show:
"I told you, there’s no magic in that girl. She just came to show off in front of you. You wouldn’t have taught her anyway, so why waste time?"
"Really?" — His voice turned mockingly amused. — "Then why didn’t you even let me take a look? Why didn’t you let me make the decision myself? Do you think I can’t do anything right?!"
"Do you really have to talk to me like that? Did I step on your tail or something?" — Tav took a defensive stance.
Rolan froze, staring at her face… and suddenly his smirk became almost devilish:
“Wait, what? Are you jealous?”
Tav quickly turned away, pretending that something interesting was happening outside the window, but her flushed cheeks gave it all away.
“Oh, I always knew there had to be some special reason for you to save me and my family so many times…” — he continued, stepping closer — “But I never could have imagined…”
Tav had no time to answer. Driven by something inexplicable, the Archmage scooped her up in his arms, sat her down on the table almost effortlessly, and placed himself between her legs.
Tav gasped, but made no protest. On the contrary, she grabbed his collar and pulled him closer...
***
Cal, as usual, entered the Archmage’s office without knocking:
"Rolan, what do you want for dinner? Oh! Sorry... uh... I didn't see anything, go ahead."
He took a few steps back and slammed the door shut with a resounding thud. A moment of silence, as if he wanted to forget what he had just seen, and Cal was already on his way to his sister:
"Lia! You won’t believe it! I think we can start preparations for the wedding!"
Lia simply raised an eyebrow:
"Relax, I started a month ago."