#rolan fluff

He watched you attentively as you drug your feet across the floor of your bedroom, getting ready for bed much more slowly than usual, a dejected look upon your face. As you began to approach the bed to lie down, Rolan asked, “What’s wrong, my love?”

In lieu of a proper response, you merely climbed into bed and laid right on top of him, and he was quick to wrap his arms around you. Rolan placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, then one hand began alternating between lightly trailing his nails all over your back, to rubbing soothing circles there. He was silent for several minutes, letting you relax against him for some time. Eventually, however, he repeated his question, in an even gentler tone than before.

“Just a bad day,” you mumbled against his chest, relishing in his warmth.

“How can I help?” Rolan asked softly.

“Would you rub my back for a bit?”

“Of course. Lay down on your front here beside me, darling.”

You did as he bade you, and although you loathed leaving the comfort of his chest, you were not absent from his warmth for long, as he made quick work of pushing your sleep shirt up and rubbing circles with his palms. Rolan then retrieved the massage oil from the nightstand and used that on you, focusing on your lower back, clearly remembering that your lower back usually gives you the most trouble.

After an unknown amount of time, you were on the verge of falling asleep, so you quietly let Rolan know that you wished to cuddle him again. Rolan then resumed his previous position of laying on his back and opening his arms to you. The massage oil had been used up, so his hands were clean when he wrapped his arms around you and began lightly scratching the bare skin of your back, extremely mindful of avoiding adding too much pressure, lest his nails harm you. His tail wrapped around your calf affectionately, and he occasionally pressed kisses to your forehead, temples, and the top of your head. The warmth of his abdomen against yours was doing wonders to soothe your cramps, and when you wrapped your arms around him, he – seemingly unknowingly – began to purr faintly. It made you smile, and you pressed a kiss to his bare chest.

“I love you.”

“And I love you. More than you will ever know,” Rolan vowed, placing a finger under your chin to tilt your head up so he could kiss you. “You are the most enchanting sight I have ever laid eyes on. Nothing could ever compare to you, both in beauty and in brains…. Well, except myself, of course.”

You snorted, and you could practically hear him smiling in response.

“I am endlessly grateful that you agreed to marry me – although I will never truly understand what I have done to deserve such good fortune.”

Smiling, you kissed him again, before laying your head back down on his chest. You were already on the cusp of sleep when you murmured, “I love you, you sap.”

“And I love you, darling.”

The blissful blackness of sleep encompassed you shortly after, and you fell asleep atop your husband, as comfortable and cozy as you could ever be.

----------

“I didn't know you were so skilled in illusionary magic, Rolan.” You remarked, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow.

“I can remember when he could hardly cast that, constantly having us sit around for a fireworks show.” Cal whispered to Lia but in his drunken state it was more of a whispered yell that you definitely heard. Rolan cringed and kept his eyes on you as the illusion faded.

“I thought I should diversify my portfolio before I got to Baldurs Gate. Might be a way to impress Lorroakan, well not impressed but at at least show I'm more than evocation spells.” He rubbed his hands together, the strange prickly feelings he got in his fingers after casting an illusion was still ever present.

“I can show you how to negate the horrible feeling you get after casting an illusion, if you'll accept some brief tutelage?” Your smile was mischievous but your tone was entirely sincere and his fingers did still feel odd. Maybe it wouldn't be so awful… he nodded and suddenly you took his hand and pulled him to the beach not far from the camp. Your hand felt oddly well suited to his. Rolan’s siblings’ giggles rang in his ears but he struggled to bring himself to care too much.

“Come on then, what am I missing?” Rolan asked, arms crossed as you let go of his hand and a cold feeling spread through him.

“You're concentrating too much.” You said simply as if it was the easiest thing possible.

“How is it possible to focus too much? On a bloody spell?” he breathed out a sigh of frustration but you just smiled and took his hands in yours.

“If you stop being so grumpy, I'll tell you.” raising an eyebrow at him you cast a quick illusion of a cat on the sand next to him, it purred and laced its way between both his legs before settling at your feet.

“And you don't get an odd feeling in your fingers when you do that?” He asked, overly eager to learn.

“No, because I'm not focussing on conjuring my cat like it's the last thing I'll ever do. The weave should flow through you without you thinking about it, it's hard to master in a sense. You're concentrating on a spell but it almost doesn't feel like it because you're so enraptured in it all that it comes naturally.” You knelt down, ghosting a stroke on the cat's back before it disappeared, you stood back up with a smile. You looked positively radiant under the moonlight, it bounced off the water behind you giving an angelic hue to your face. Rolan was beginning to get distracted and suddenly realised that he hadn't been listening to what you'd said…

“Rolan?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face and he was brought back to the present, your smile still ever present.

“Yes, apologies. I was lost in thought.” As he looked down slightly at your face he couldn't help but be filled with a sense of hopefulness. Your smile emanated joy that he hadn't felt in a while, he knew that behind the wide smiles of his siblings was a deep sense of anxiety at their uncertain future. But you didn't seem to be tainted by the cancer of hopelessness and loss.

“Give it a try, still your mind and just imagine what you want your magic to do. Focus on the feeling rather than the illusionary magic itself.” You placed a hand on his arm and turned to stand next to him.

How he was able to focus at all with your hand fixed to his bicep was beyond him but, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes imagining home. The small study he worked in back in Elturel, the deep purple of the fabric embroidered in his office chair, oak furniture and his prized precious gems and fossils.

“Rolan!” You exclaimed, and Rolan opened his eyes to look at you. You began twirling around, looking at every expanse of his illusion with a smile. Even he had to admit the detail was the best he had conjured. “You did it! I'm so proud of you.” Leaping forward you pulled him into a close hug. It caught him off guard and his illusion changed around him as he wrapped his arms around you. Deep lavender tones surrounded the two of you with bright sparkles of white and gold shining through it.

Deep inside of him a feeling began to spread through his body, annoyance and it turned into an anger he hadn't expected. You thought you were better than him, he could tell. Oh let me help you Rolan, you're clearly hopeless, a hellspawn with no magical talent. Was all he could hear in your last words regardless of the thoughts validity.

“Elementary, I assure you. A child could have conjured it.” He let go of you and the lights faded, his face steeled as he looked at you and your smile faded. It tugged at a muscle in his stomach as he saw your expression change but he ignored it.

“What do you mean? I thought you wanted help with your-” but he cut you off.

“Oh great angel thank you for bestowing your help unto me so that I may conjure a fucking illusion. I don't need your pity nor do I need your help. Do you enjoy poking your nose into everyone's business or is it just my family?” He yelled and you visibly shrunk backwards, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively.

“I wouldn't have done anything if you hadn't agreed to do it. You… I thought we were-”

“You thought that we were what? Having a fucking moment? What a nice naive thought that would be when you aren't homeless and have only one prospect that has been delayed by your sheer ability to insert yourself into everything!” His anger was deep and seething now, all he could see was your pity. But his subconscious could see the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes and the way you comforted yourself through his harsh words, urging him to reach out.

“I apologise, Rolan. Have a good rest of your night.” You didn't look at him as you walked away, going straight to Shadowheart’s tent and visibly crying. Rolan didn't sleep that night, whether it was due to his anger or his hatred for himself he wasn't sure. But he knew that seeing you upset had left a worse feeling in his stomach than anything before.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After Cal and Lia had been safely returned to the Last Light Inn, Rolan tried to mask his relief and genuine emotional response- convinced that if he cried they wouldn't be far behind him. Of course when he saw you and your band of companions stroll through the door after his siblings he wasn't surprised. Perhaps a bit perturbed by the sheer amount of blood you were covered in but nonetheless he was relieved that everyone was alive and kicking.

That evening had erupted into more merriment than he'd expected, a tad more alcohol and songs than he would have liked but it was nice to see Cal and Lia happy (even if it was mostly due to the Firewine). Finding it slightly overwhelming when he was only tipsy he secluded himself to the only other bedroom in this whole bloody place beside Isobel's, hoping for some respite. But he wouldn't be so lucky, turning and being surprised by your form sitting cross legged on the bed with an orb of light hovering in your palm.

“Zurgan! What are you doing up here?” He exclaimed and you looked at him with a perplexed expression before slowly sending the orb of light around the room, lighting up every candle with an enchanted flame.

“I didn't realise the room was taken.” You smirked and it infuriated Rolan.

“Shouldn't you be down there, celebrating how bloody amazing everyone thinks you are?” He responded with slightly more malice than he intended but you seemed completely unphased as you uncrossed your legs and lay back on your hands, looking up at him.

“And what do you think of me Rolan?” Your eyebrow raised and you cocked your head to the side.

“I think you enjoy meddling and playing the hero.” He glared down at you but you once again seemed unphased and it was growing more and more attractive by the minute.

“Oh, come now my fellow spellcaster. Why be so harsh? Are you frustrated I did it before you could?” You were teasing him and it sent a bolt of arousal through Rolan’s body. It was entirely too warm in this room, your focused gaze and the wine was not helping at all.

“I- no! I do not meddle the way that you do. You think too much of your skills if you think that will get a rise out of me.” Rolan was a few steps from you and it felt more and more like he wanted to be closer.

“I think I've already got one.” You stood up and closed the gap between the two of you, Rolan went to speak but couldn't find the words to respond. “If I'd known how handsome you looked when you were quiet I'd have teased you more a long time ago.”

“Gods, why are you so drunk on your own ego?” His gaze was fixed on your lips and you smiled.

“Only when I'm talking to you,” reaching up slightly, you kissed him on the cheek as Rolans eyes grew wide. “If you want me to stop you only have to say so.”

He said nothing and so you carried on kissing up and down his neck. Paying particular attention to his jaw before licking his ear. Rolan let out a moan he didn't know he'd been holding in and it annoyed him a great amount when he saw your smirk.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked and it took all of Rolans strength to not pin you to the bed and fuck you. But he nodded and you placed a hand on his cheek before kissing him softly. He had never kissed anyone that was as bound to magic as he was, it felt like a melding of two energy sources. Intertwining with one another as they amplified their power.

“Why don't you hate me?” Rolan asked breathlessly between kisses.

“Because I can't be bothered too anymore.” You replied, running a hand up his chest and then across his shoulder.

“Why not?” His voice was smaller than he intended it to be.

“Why do you care? Don't you just want to sleep with someone and move on? It would be one of the only good things happening in this forsaken place.” You stood back, exasperated and sat on the bed looking at the floor.

“I- I don't know why I care. But I do. Why are you throwing yourself at me like this?” He regretted the words he chose the moment his mouth was closed. Your gaze slowly rose up to meet his, eyes so tired and there was a new look behind your eyes. No longer pity, but an anger mixed with sadness he had been the cause of.

“If that's truly how you feel, Rolan. Then I'll stop bothering you I promise,” you stood up and reached the door hoping he would turn around and take you in his arms. But he didn't, you left the room and stood on the other side of the door.

Taking a deep breath you could only remember how deeply embarrassed you had felt after the party a few weeks ago. You didn't plan on crying to Shadowheart again but it was definitely a possibility, you thought that maybe if you acted more aloof or something that he would want you. Maybe changing yourself wasn't the right decision, but you thought he might like you. If he just got past his judgemental front then maybe he would allow you to see him. Not the mask of anger that he often worem But he still pushed you away as easily as the first time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dread rose through your stomach and into your mouth, an acidic taste of anxiety because you'd be seeing Rolan soon. Due to your previous transgressions- at least transgressions in Rolans opinion- you doubted that he would be happy to see you. Your last meeting was plagued with judgemental words from him and actions that weren't really in your nature. Regardless of your anxiety, you needed to visit Sorcerers and Sundries for Gale.

It was a beautiful day, sun streaming through the windows and the stained glass ceilings as Rolan stood at the entrance desk. He often thought as he started his shift that seeing an employee at the welcome desk with a face if bruises and burns would be moderately unsettling. But Lorroakan hardly seemed to care. Rolan supposed that humiliation must be one of his Master's great loves considering how this was a usual and common occurrence. As the bruises seemed to heal and hope would rise up inside that maybe this was the end of the test, that he had passed, the beatings started again. It was always nonsensical questions that Rolan had no way of knowing how to answer, knowledge he should have been taught by now but wasn't given the opportunity. The only saving grace for him was that no one be knew was ever in the shop, it was curious children or worldly Baldurians never someone that he- oh fuck.

When he saw you walking through the door, a backpack slung over your shoulder as you stood to the back of your group of companions. Gale strided forward to speak with him. Rolan wondered why you were hiding from him, but he supposed it wasn't so outlandish given the last time you spoke and maybe the state of his face.

“Rolan! It's nice to see you again, who should I talk to about rare tomes and spells?” Gale asked with a polite smile on his face as he attempted (badly) to hide that he was looking at the bruises.

“Welcome to Sorcerers Sundries, home to much magical information, items and spells. Tolna will be able to help you with any rare tomes, she's over there by the other counter. If you need any more help, be assured I will do my best to assist you.” Rolan's smile was so painfully emotionless that Gale sought only to smile and walk over to Tolna rather than stew in the awkward situation.

Gale was accompanied by Shadowheart and Astarion but you stayed, still looking slightly down and picking up a pamphlet on the front desk. The air felt thicker and not in awkwardness but with regret and a tugging feeling in his stomach that he once again needed to apologise. But you didn't look up and he wasn't sure whether to interrupt your thoughts or leave you to your reading about the Nightsong.

“How has your apprenticeship been?” You suddenly asked, your fingers grazing the top of the pamphlet delicately as you refused to reach his gaze.

“Most beneficial, Master Lorroakan is a wonderful tutor and I'm enjoying my time here as I said I would.” His lying was hardly with any effort, he didn't feel like he wanted to lie to you regardless of what you thought of him. He could only hope that you would want to speak to him more due to the very clear lie. It was after he said this that you looked up at him with a hard expression that immediately softened as you stood closer to the desk and lay your palms flat.

“Rolan…” you breathed before you hand gently reached up to cup his cheek. He wanted to shrink away, pretend that he didn't need help and that he didn't want your attention but he couldn't. He was so deeply starved of a kind touch or basic human decency that he leant into your hand. “What has he done to your beautiful face?”

“I-I assure you. This is the result of backfired spells of my own doing.” Rolan gently took your hand off his cheek and looked down, unable to meet your sympathetic gaze. Did you pity him once more?

“Rolan, we both know that you have never been that careless.” You stood firm and tilted his chin up gently so he looked at you, his eyes threatening to spill tears.

“Please, for once allow me to have my privacy!” He exclaimed suddenly and without warning. “Everytime you enter back into my life it's to butt your head into every aspect of it. My spellcasting, my family, my character, the autonomy of my own face! I can handle my own problems and I don't need your righteous help.”

Your face displayed the deep deep hurt that spread through your whole body. Tears pooling in your eyes as Rolan looked at you with misplaced anger and frustration. He couldn't take it back, once again he had ruined it all. You wanted to help him, everytime you showed up it had been his fortune and you were too sweet for him. Too kind to deserve a bastard such as he. Maybe it was for the best that he scared you away with his harsh words, it's not as if they would subside. He was a selfish, rotten man who couldn't accept kindness if it slapped him in the face.

“I'm sorry, Rolan. I didn't-.” You paused, seemingly considering your words carefully before sniffing. “I won't bother you again. I promise.” You'd said that before and he'd longed that you hadn't meant it, now he wasn't sure if you'd ever speak to him again. Slowly, you walked away with your head bowed over to your companions. Shadowheart hugged you extremely close whilst staring daggers at Rolan who just about shrunk in her accusatory gaze.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Lorroakan lay dead on the floor, Rolan had to take a moment and sit down near the body of his dead Master. It felt like his own body might collapse next to him if he stood up for too long. So mentally and physically exhausted but, with a stark realisation that his dream was over, he would never be a great wizard. Who else would take on a hellspawn with no formal magical education? He didn't mourn Lorroakan in any sense of the word but he mourned what could have been, his now forgotten future.

“You fought well, I'm sure you'll turn this place around soon enough.” Shadowheart stood over him with hands on her hips.

“What?” He asked with furrowed brows and she rolled her eyes.

“Don't tell me you're just going to give up and leave? You're the Master of the tower now so you better use that power well. Starting with apologies to people who deserve them, hmm?” She cocked her head towards you. You were standing in the corner, shoulders hunched and making yourself even smaller as you stood near La’zel. The Githyanki almost seemed to be standing protectively next to you.

Rolan nodded and Shadowheart offered him a hand to get up, that for once in his life he accepted and rose to his feet. Brushing off his robe he took note of the blood smatterings.

“Could I speak to you?” Rolan asked tentatively as he approached you, greeted by the accusatory glare of the Gith.

“Oh, me? Of course. Yes.” You walked next to Rolan and smiled to your companions as they exited through the portal with Aylin.

“Thank you. For what you did here today.” Rolan said so earnestly that you were taken back- no backhanded comment or snideness, just humility. “Without you all here today I… I don't know how long it would have all gone on.”

“Honesty, I thought you would scold me for being so meddlesome in your business.” You smiled to yourself, looking down at your muddy boots.

“Well, whilst that is true. It was only to my benefit in this case. As it has always been, no matter how cruel I have been, you have indiscriminately helped me and my siblings. There is no way to thank you that expresses my gratitude.” Rolan was looking at you now and you weren't sure whether to reach his gaze, too afraid he would say something like last time.

“I would have done it in every lifetime, I hope you know that.” You slowly looked at him, ready to wrap your arms around yourself protectively once again. But, he looked genuinely touched, tender even. It made you hope that you could really be friends even if it was never anything more.

“I know I've ruined things with you, I assume irrevocably given my behavior. But if you'll allow me, I would like to be your friend even if nothing more would come from it.” Now he was flicking his gaze from you to the floor and back again, anxiously fiddling with his fingers.

“If that's all that you want then who would I be to refuse,” you smiled sadly. “I think it's nice to imagine what could have happened between the two of us."

"What do you imagine?" Rolan asked, suddenly anxious but hopeful.

"Oh, I don't know. A date or two. Magic with one another and learning new techniques, spending time together etcetera etcetera." Your smile seemed to fade away as you looked into the distance.

"And that would be... favourable to you?" He asked cautiously and you weren't sure how to take it, was he horrified or curious?

"Very favourable. Regardless of everything my feelings towards you have remained constant and I think I would be remiss to act as if I only see you as a friend." You paused, "But that does not mean I don't want to be friends. I understand that my opinion doesn't necessarily line up with yours."

"I- I can't tell if you're joking? You have feelings towards me even when I've been such a cataclysmic fool?" Rolan scoffed with an expression of genuine bewilderment.

"Has that not been painfully obvious from the beginning." You stated wanting to run away to avoid the possibility of rejection but no, you needed this.

"You want me?" He was once again, bewildered.

"Gods, Rolan. Please listen, I've been thinking about you constantly since the moment we met. Ready to drop anything and everything to help you because it was the right thing to do but that didn't stop my real interest in you. That only grew and despite the fuck ups I knew you were in stressful situations and you can never predict how someone will react." You paused looking down at the floor.

"I tried to change how I acted around you whether it was being more flirty or more reserved and everytime I would feel the same afterwards. I wanted you as myself, maybe I'm too patient for my own good but I don't care. If you don't feel the same for me I would still love to be your friend and a friend of your family because you're good people and I adore being around you all." You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from word-vomiting any further.

"I- that is a great deal to take in." Rolan paused, pondering what to say next you assumed. "I can't believe that I'm not the fool who has fallen for someone who could never see me the same way." His smile began to grow and he slowly reached out his hand to brush against your fingers that dug into your arm. You looked into his eyes and struggled to find deception within them.

"I once asked you what you thought of me, what do you think of me now?" You asked, linking your fingers with his and letting your hands hang between the two of you.

"I still think you enjoy meddling and playing the hero but, you're considerate and kind, much too patient for a normal person to be. But more than anything when I think of you I want to be close to you." He squeezed your hand before laying his other hand on your cheek.

Hopefully, Rolan wouldn’t object to any of this. You hadn’t asked to come over, especially not this late in the evening. It had to be near midnight by now, if not after. But you had too much on your mind and your companions at the Elfsong were not exactly the company you were craving on this, what might be, your last night alive. They understood the experience better than anyone else in Faerun but you didn’t want to be around any of their solemn faces tonight. Not tonight of all nights. 

Walking through the portal, you extinguished the flame in your hand and looked around. The soft glow of candlelight surrounded Rolan at his desk. Even from a few yards away, you could see just how tired he was. His shoulders slumped and his head rested in his hand as he leaned over some ancient tome. His face looked completely drained. Perhaps this was a mistake. He must be exhausted. You shouldn’t have come. Before you can take a step back through the portal though, he leaned back to stretch and you caught his eye. 

“Who goes there?” he demanded. You pulled back your hood and smiled. 

“A friend.” You walked over to him. His expression softened and he sat up a little straighter. “A friend bearing gifts,” you added, reaching for the bag slung across your shoulder. When you pulled out a bottle of wine, a smile tugged at his lips.

“You broke in, I presume?” he asked, arching a brow. 

“Just a little,” you smiled. “You should really take better precautions. Anyone could just waltz right in.” 

“Hmph,” he scoffed and leaned back in his seat, hands folded in front of him. Not just anyone could get past the wards he’d put in place, but he knew the sort of skills you possessed. It wasn’t a terrible surprise that you’d walked in without touching a single one.

“Would you mind a little company tonight?” you asked.

“Are your companions too busy for you?” 

“No,” you replied. “I just wanted something different tonight.” He could hear the solemn tone hiding in your voice. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No.” You answered quickly, a little too quickly you noticed. “Other than the obvious. Impending doom and all that.” You swallowed and took a deep breath. “Besides, you look like you need a break too. Have a drink with me?” 

“Alright,” he agreed and stood. “But let’s go outside. I’ve been sitting at this desk for far too long.” The two of you walked out on the balcony that encircled the tower. A bench to the left of the doorway was your destination. A few cushions lined a stone bench built into the wall. 

“I’ve got a bottle of Arabellan Dry and a bottle of Baldur’s Grape. Your choice,” you said, pulling a second bottle from your bag before you sat down. He took the Arabellan as he settled beside you. The view from the tower was impressive in the daylight. You could see from one end of the Gate to the other from its highest floor. At night, the lights in the city below looked like stars mirroring the night sky above them. The two of you managed to uncork your bottles and clinked the necks of them before taking a sip.

“How is it being the master of Ramazith’s Tower?” you asked with a grin. 

“It’s–” he took a deep breath, “it’s damn overwhelming. Lorroakan didn’t know half of what he had and the cataloging of it all is a monstrous task. But, I’m managing.”

“How are Cal and Lia adjusting to life in the tower?” you asked. 

“Rather well, I think. They made themselves quite at home in just a few days after moving in. Lorroakan wouldn’t let them stay here and I couldn’t think of why at the time. There’s plenty of room but— Well, that doesn’t matter much now.” He finished somberly, taking a long swig from his bottle. 

“It’s good that they like it here,” you said. “That you can all be together. I’m glad.” 

“It wouldn’t have been possible if not for you,” he added, “however loath I am to admit it.” He flashed you a quick smile. “And it wouldn’t have been worth the effort to get here if you hadn’t saved Cal and Lia from those cultists.” You glanced over to him with a smile and found him staring back at you almost lovingly. You stayed like that for a moment, watching those warm, glowing eyes of his until his smile faltered. He cleared his throat and took another swig from his bottle. “Have you made much progress with the Absolute business?” he asked. 

You froze for just a second before slowly lowering your bottle to rest on your lap. You looked back out at the city over the balcony’s edge. Rolan could see the distress the question caused but he waited all the same. 

“Do you remember the stones I told you about?” you asked.

“Yes.” 

“I have all three now,” you said. “We decided that we’d take one more night to rest before–” You fiddled with the bottle in your hands. “ —before we go to face it.” He connected some of the dots himself. 

“The earthquakes,” he said, “They’ve grown more frequent.” You nodded before looking back at him again. 

“We know where it is, beneath the city,” you added plainly. “Gods only know how this will end, but tomorrow, we face it.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, the ones that you really needed to admit to someone, someone who would understand and hold you, someone who wouldn’t think any less of you for being scared out of your wits at the thought of facing this monstrosity that waited for you beneath your feet at this very moment. Your failure would mean the end of civilization on the Sword Coast and possibly the world should the Elder Brain continue to expand its new empire. You were terrified. 

“Then why did you come here tonight? Shouldn’t you be resting or preparing for what’s to come?” he asked, setting his bottle aside. Rolan leaned towards you a little, concern knitting his brows together as he stared back at you. 

“I didn’t want to sit around waiting for dawn to come with the others,” you answered. “I thought I wanted a distraction, so I stole a few bottles of wine and made my way here,” you smiled weakly before glancing away. “But I think I really just wanted to see you.” His lips parted slightly but otherwise his expression didn’t change. He stayed almost frozen sitting there with just inches between you on the bench. 

“Me?” he mumbled. You nodded though you didn’t meet his gaze. 

“Tonight might be my last night,” you said, looking up at the moon nestled among the stars. “It might be the last night for every soul in the city and I wanted to spend it with you, Rolan.” Smiling, you looked back at him again. 

“I–,” he started but stopped. His cheeks got somehow redder, or a darker red rather. It was an encouraging sight that only strengthened your smile. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” you added, watching him waffle for something to say. “We can just drink and enjoy the view. It’s okay.” 

You’d liked Rolan maybe from the night of the party you shared with the tiefling refugees. You’d both been through hell over the last weeks and you’d kept meeting. Each time he’d charmed you a little more. His love for his family. His stubbornness. His confidence, and at times arrogance. He could be quite pleasant and playful when he wanted to be. Whether he realized it or not, he had endeared himself to you and you’d grown to care for him quite a lot more than you ever anticipated. So much so that now, on what might be your last night alive, you sought him out. You’d rather spend it in his company than anyone else’s, even your companions who knew better than anyone else the dangers that await you and how that must feel.

Telling Rolan that you cared for him, in not quite so many words, made your heart pound and blood rush to your cheeks. You weren’t sure what you planned to do or say when you found him tonight but it wasn’t this. Tears pricked at your eyes as you looked back out at the city lights and took another sip of wine. You fought the urge for as long as you could but you sniffled just a little. 

He whispered your name and you turned to look at him again. 

“Why?” 

“Must I spell it out?” you asked. 

“I was awful to you. I know we’ve put it behind us but– Is that why you helped me?” 

“No,” you replied, “I helped you because it was the right thing to do. The same reason I convinced Cal and Lia to stay at the Grove. It was the right thing. And after that–” you trailed off a little. “It was still the right thing to help you and your family.” 

“You went out of your way, when you really didn’t have to risk your neck for any of us.”

“I did because I like you– and Cal and Lia. None of you deserved what happened. But two things can be true at once. I liked you, Rolan, and I wanted you to be happy and your family is a part of that,” you explained. 

“What are you saying?” he asked softly. 

“I think I love you,” you whispered back, tears in your eyes once more. 

“You think–” he started. 

“I love you,” you repeated, a little firmer, “Rolan. I'm in love with you.” Once more, he was at a loss for words and she could see him searching for a reaction within himself through his eyes as well as the end of his tail twitching animatedly at his side. “Again, you don't have to say anything. It’s okay. I won’t be hurt if you don’t feel the same.”

“Yes, you will,” he paused, “because I know I would be.”  

“I just mean, I could make my peace with it, if you didn’t like me that way, and I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured to say things that you don’t mean.” 

“I wouldn’t say something like that if I didn’t mean it,” he replied, almost harshly. You stared back at his hard expression for a moment or so before you looked away again, setting your bottle of Baldur’s Grape aside. You couldn’t look at him any longer if he was just going to stare at you like that and not say anything else. Why couldn’t he just put you out of your misery and say something? 

“You– I hated you once,” he said, “I blamed you for my fears. I blamed you for Cal and Lia being taken. I still wanted to hate you when you brought them back because– I couldn’t do that. I’ve protected them for years and I couldn’t save them. You did and you didn’t have to. You didn’t have to help with Lorroakan either. You didn’t have to talk with me at the party at the Grove or humor me with my little light show,” he said, waving his hand in the air. “I know it wasn’t very much but it was something I could do for them.” He shifted to face you on the bench. “I wanted to stay bitter with you but I couldn’t.” You looked up as he turned his head to look out at the city lights. “As vexingly self righteous as I wanted to characterize you, it isn’t entirely true,” he paused, and you could see him swallow and brace himself for the next words that fell from his lips. 

“You might be one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met.” He spoke with all the reverence of a prayer, “You have bewitched me completely. And I–” Rolan turned to face you again, tears welling in his eyes this time. “I love you too.” 

“Rolan.” His name tumbled from you in the faintest whisper as you reached out to touch his face. It occurred to you as your fingertips slid across his cheek that you hadn’t ever touched him before this moment, not even his hand. He brought a hand up to cover your own against his cheek and a smile graced his lips. You couldn’t stop yourself when you nearly leaped forward to kiss him. Pressing your lips to his in a feverish kiss, you nearly fell into his lap, your other hand bracing yourself against his shoulder.  Gripping his robes in one hand, you steadied yourself against him while his hands fell to your back and waist, pulling you into him. His lips tasted dry and sweet against your own until the two of you parted. 

Breathless, you stared back at each other for a second or two. You were practically sitting in his lap with his arms around you. His tail was draped over your leg, hesitantly wavering back and forth against your calf.

“I’ve thought of you endlessly for weeks now,” he said. “I didn’t dare to think that you might– that you’d think of me that way.” 

“Really?” you grinned. “But you’re the remarkable one, Rolan.”

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe,” he said. 

“It’s true. Lorroakan knew it too and it scared him. You had outgrown him already by the time you reached the city. He couldn’t teach you anything that you couldn’t teach yourself.” Your hands lingered on his shoulders as you watched his smile begin to fade. 

“And now?” he demanded. “Am I supposed to just send you off into the Absolute’s lair to save me and my family for a second time?” His jaw clenched as he stared back at you, expression hard with worry once again. 

“Yes,” you replied. “Because I need the master of Ramazith’s Tower ready to support me when this inevitably goes sideways. The tower has armaments, doesn’t it? Artillery?” 

“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “yes, it does.” He’d forgotten all about that. 

“We may need it and I need you here to man them,” you said. 

“It’s not because you want to keep me away from the fight?” he asked. You made a face. 

“It’s a little of that. But Ramazith’s Tower is a powerful asset that I wouldn’t trust in the hands of anyone but you,” you answered. “I need you here because I trust you,” you added, “and because I’d hate myself if something happened to you.” You brought a hand back up to rest against his cheek. “You have a family Rolan and you need each other. If I die, the world would keep turning and you would move on.” He scoffed at the suggestion. 

“The world might keep turning but I don’t think I could ever let you go, not after everything that’s happened.” 

“Gods willing, you won’t have to,” you smiled. 

“Gods willing.” He forced a smile onto his face and leaned his forehead against your own. The base of his horns pressing against your skin. 

“Can we set aside the talk of tomorrow now?” you asked softly. “I don’t want to think about it for a while.” 

“Of course.” He pushed his nose against yours, eyes closed and your lips nearly touching. “Will you stay? Here? With me?” 

“They’ll be expecting me back at the Elfsong,” you whispered against his lips, “but dawn is a while away yet.” You smiled before pushing forward to capture them in another kiss. 

“She’s right,” Sybil piped up, “we survived Elturel, surely a wizard as accomplished as yourself can help with the fight here.” her voice soothed Rolan’s ears, he had never heard such a wonderful voice before. 

“Thank you, it’s the right thing to do and you know it!” Lia says, her words aimed at her stubborn brother.

“She’s right Rolan, we're better than this.” Cal agrees.

Rolan rolled his eyes and sighed “Zurgan fine I’ll stay too lest you end up with your throats slit by a goblin blade.” 

“Thank you Rolan.” Lia sighs before walking away with Cal at her side.

Sybil approaches Rolan again, curious about the stubborn tiefling. 

“We should’ve left by now, damnation.” Rolan grumbles, “Instead we’re sitting here practically begging to be attacked, staying is a mistake.”

A slight frown finds its way onto the cleric’s light blue face, “You’re doing the right thing you know, the tieflings need help.” Sybil says calmly.

“And what about us? There’s every chance we’ve doomed ourselves by helping these people.” Rolan scoffs.

Before Sybil can even respond the grumpy wizard continues, “We will end up fodder for some goblin’s blade all because Lia insists on helping every wounded foal we see, our best chance to make it to Baldur’s Gate is on our own. This place is lost.” 

Sybil’s frown deepens her eye twitching in irritation as he once again mentions the illustrious city, “Why are you in such a rush to get to the city?” the cleric questioned crossing her arms over her chest. 

Rolan straightened himself up, puffing out his chest at the question, “Well you are currently looking at the newest apprentice of Lorroakan,” the red tiefling bragged, a smirk on his face. “Yes that Lorroakan, the greatest wizard in Baldur’s Gate.”

Sybil’s red eyes twitched even more at the mention of the ginger haired wizard, “You mean Lorroakan who lives in Ramazith tower in the Upper City? I’ve heard some pretty nasty things about that man.” the hero tells the shorter man, her irritation evident. 

The corner of Rolan’s lips twitched, “All rumors I can assure you, Master Lorroakan is the best of the best and I would study under nothing less.” the wizard huffs. 

Sybil nods in response not fully believing him but not wanting to argue. She turns to her companions and begins to chat with them, with her attention no longer on him Rolan takes time to fully take in the hero’s appearance. She stood more than a few inches taller than him. Her dark purple hair was pulled back into a tightly braided bun, strands of hair brushing against her face parting around her horns. Rolan watches as she laughs at something the wizard in purple robes says, her ruby red eyes crinkling up as she smiles, her tail flicks slightly as she laughs. He’s shook out of his daze when he feels an elbow jab into his side, his head whips to the left to see Lia has made her way back over to him, smirking at her brother with a knowing look on her face. Rolan scoffs and looks away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his embarrassment. 

After a moment Sybil and her group bid the siblings farewell, making their way down to the Druid’s Grove. Rolan watches the cleric as she leaves, Lia and Cal, who had rejoined his siblings, watch their brother with matching looks on their faces. Rolan sighs as she fades from view, thinking that he really messed up whatever chance of companionship that he had with the cleric.

Two

It had been weeks since the last time Rolan had seen or heard from Sybil, he and his siblings tried to make their way through the Shadow Cursed Lands but things went terribly wrong. Which is why Rolan now finds himself sitting at the bar in the Last Light Inn, drowning his sorrows in liquor. The wizard was so lost in his own misery, he failed to realize that a certain tiefling cleric had once again managed to find him. 

“There’s another bottle of Arabellan Dry over there, put it on the bar, then piss off and leave me alone.” The wizard snaps at the two children manning the bar.

“Jahiera said that we should serve drinks but that we shouldn’t serve drunks.” Ide tells the wizard, her eyes catching on the purple haired tiefling who had finally made it over to where Rolan was. 

“Jahiera didn’t save your ragged little tail from the cultists, I did.” Rolan quips, his words slurred. He was too far gone to notice the presence that had appeared behind him. 

“Do you want to talk about your sorrows instead of drowning them?” Sybil asks gently, resting her hand on the wizard’s shoulder.

“I’d rather drown than talk to a sanctimonious prick like you,” Rolan snaps at her before harshly shrugging her hand off his shoulder. Sybil flinches at his tone, completely taken aback. 

“If you’re here to save the day again you’re a little late this time.” The brown haired tiefling retorts, refusing to look at Sybil. 

“What’s wrong Rolan? Is there any way I can help?” Sybil asks carefully, trying her hardest not to upset the man further. 

“Oh sod off,” Rolan snarls, finally turning to face the taller woman “I’m only here because you helped me and my family. I was ready to cut and run back at the grove but you had other ideas.” 

The pure venom in his voice shocks Sybil, she had never heard him sound so angry before, not even back at the grove. 

“Cal and Lia were taken in by your crap,” Rolan snaps at the cleric once more, “You convinced them to play hero, and now they're gone.” 

Sybil gasps, her eyes watering at the thought of the twins being taken by the cult. The purple haired cleric clears her throat before responding to the angry wizard with, “Then it’s my responsibility to bring them back.”

This didn’t seem to be the correct response however all it did was make Rolan even angrier, he rounds on the taller woman before yelling, “They’re my responsibility, you go save the world, or your own arse, or whatever it is you do,” He glares at the taller woman, “I’ll fix this.” 

Rolan turns back to the bar refusing to look at her any longer, he briefly thinks to himself through his drunken haze that he’s definitely messed it up with her this time but he can’t find it in himself to care, too focused on the pain of losing his siblings.

Three

The darkness of the Shadow Cursed Lands is more intense than Rolan remembered, the light from the torch he carries barely cutting through it. He doesn’t let that deter him though, too focused on trying to get to Moonrise so he can rescue Lia and Cal. Faintly Rolan hears whooshing behind him, he ignores it and continues on his way. He makes it all of ten steps before he’s being surrounded by shadow fiends. Rolan desperately tries to fend them off but with only one hand being available to use it wasn’t much help. Just as he was beginning to accept his fate and let the fiends take him he hears shouting in the distance. 

“BY THE GODS ROLAN IS THAT YOU???” Sybil shouts running as fast as her legs can go, her companions following closely behind the purple haired tiefling.

Right as the cleric makes it to where Rolan stands a fight breaks out, Sybil and her companions fight valiantly against the fiends. The sight of it makes a bitter feeling settle in the wizard’s stomach. Before long the fight was won, the finishing blow being landed by Astarion’s arrow soaring straight into the final fiend. Sybil turns frantically towards Rolan already reaching in her pack for a healing potion to give to him, the sight of it only worsens the feeling in the pit of Rolan’s stomach.

“Gods damn it all, I can do nothing right- not a damn thing.” The man shouts, shocking everyone around him. 

“Rolan, please tell me you weren’t looking for Moonrise.” Sybil says, blood and dirt staining her face. Her eyes wide as she looks at the broken man before her. 

“So what if I was, Cal and Lia could be there,” the wizard snaps, “Instead I found myself cornered by shadow fiends and in need of rescue. From you of all bloody people.”

Sybil steps back a bit, the healing potion still clutched firmly in her hand.

“Rolan, Cal and Lia have already been rescued from Moonrise along with the other tieflings, they’re back at the Last Light waiting for you,” The purple haired cleric tells the man gently. “You were trying to help your family, you’re too hard on yourself.” Sybil holds out the hand that's holding the healing potion to the red tiefling.

“Or not hard enough, I’ve failed Cal and Lia again I should’ve been the one to rescue them not you.” Rolan growls, snatching the potion from Sybil’s hand and downs it. “Right then back to the Last Light, where I can tell my siblings how I’ve once again failed them.” 

Rolan doesn’t wait for anyone to answer before turning around and marching in the direction that they came from. On his way back Rolan thinks to himself that Sybil was only trying to help and that he shouldn’t have snapped at her. He once again has mucked things up with someone who was only trying to help.

Four

When they all make it back to the inn Rolan immediately hears his siblings calling for him and rushes over to them.

“Did you enjoy relaxing here while I battled that wretched darkness?” Rolan questions his siblings furiously, “What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry, we got captured by murderous lunatics!” Lia snaps back.

“I thought you were dead you ass. Both of you!” Rolan retorts.

“We’re all safe Rolan, that's what matters.” Cal replies, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Sybil makes her way over to the siblings relieved that they made it back safe, “Rolan was in a bad state without the two of you.” Sybil tells the twins gently.

"I was just - overwhelmed, it doesn't matter.” Rolan sighs trying his hardest to not concern his siblings about his well being. 

Lia and Cal finally fully take in Rolan’s appearance, his normally well done hair loose and almost completely undone, the bottom of his robes caked in mud, the tremble in his voice as he speaks to them.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve been here.” Lia says, feeling horrible for her brother.

“No - no it's not your fault, I shouldn’t have shouted - I’m sorry.” Rolan replies softly.

Cal turns to Sybil, who had been standing off to the side to give the siblings a moment to themselves. 

“Thank you for rescuing me, and the two idiots.” Cal tells the cleric. 

Sybil awws and pulls both Cal and Lia in for a hug, the cleric has grown quite fond of the twins over the time she has spent around them. After a brief moment she lets the two go and makes her way over to Rolan who is shifting on his feet clearly feeling awkward. 

“Anything to add Rolan?” Sybil asks the wizard who is currently refusing to meet her eyes. 

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise and you helped anyway,” Rolan sighs, “You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry and thank you.” 

Rolan finally looks up at the cleric and sees that her eyes have gone misty, his eyes widen in alarm but before he can say anything he too is pulled into a hug by the tiefling woman. The second he feels the warmth of her body against his own Rolan sighs wrapping his own arms around the taller woman. After a few moments Sybil releases the wizard, a small smile on her face.

“I’ve grown rather fond of you three and I always help the people I care about.” Sybil utters, her voice so soft Rolan could barely hear her. 

The wizard feels heat rush to his face, his heart practically beating out of its chest. All the poor man can say in response is mutter a small “Thanks.” causing the cleric to giggle. They stand there with each other for another moment before Sybil and her companions once again bid them farewell. That night as he tried to get some sleep all that Rolan could think of was Sybil, the way she helped him and his siblings without question, the way she brushes off praise for her heroic acts with a purple tinge to her cheeks, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, the way her voice sounds as she says his name. Staring up at the ceiling all the wizard can bring himself to say is “Shit.”

Five

Life as the apprentice of Lorroakan was not at all what Rolan thought it would be when he arrived in the city over a month ago. If anything it was far worse than anything he could’ve thought of. Not only was Lorroakan a massive prick who used the tiefling as his personal punching bag, but Rolan’s days have also become incredibly dull. He hadn’t heard from Sybil since the last night he saw her at the inn, not that he was expecting to hear from her at all but there was a small part of him who had hoped that one day he’d wake up to find that a letter from her mysteriously appeared on his nightstand. 

Standing behind the front desk at Sorcerous Sundries the wizard sifted through papers, waiting for a customer to approach. Rolan was growing tired of constantly explaining to people that no he couldn’t in fact tell them what The Nightsong is because he himself didn’t know. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the very cleric who had constantly been on his mind approach him. 

“Hells Rolan what happened to you?” Sybil asked, concern heavily lacing her voice.

The wizard jumps at hearing the very voice he’d been dreaming of for a month. He looks up to see Sybil standing in all of her beautiful glory, she seems to have collected some scars over the time they were apart, he takes notice of a particularly nasty one gracing her forearm. 

 “Nothing for you to worry about.” Rolan replies silently pleading for her to drop it. He didn’t want to explain that the wizard he had so arrogantly bragged to her about’s favorite way to pass time is to beat him.He should’ve known better however because by the looks of it Sybil didn't believe him, however before she could even try to question him further he changed the subject. 

“But nevermind that, what can I do for you?” The wizard asks, trying to keep this interaction as professional as possible.

Sybil frowns, sensing that she won’t get anything out of him about the bruises covering his face, “Do many people ask about The Nightsong?” the cleric asks, seemingly moving onto what she actually came here for.

“It’s all I deal with these days, people claiming their trinkets are the real nightsong, looking for the mountain of gold Lorroakan promised.” Rolan sighs, “There's even a pamphlet, take one they’re on the desk.”

A small smile flickers to Sybil’s face, finally getting a glimpse of the Rolan that she knows. “I have information on The Nightsong.” The purple haired cleric tells him. 

“Be very sure before you go to visit Lorroakan, he's got a beastly temper but if you really do know something he’ll want to see you. Head upstairs you can find a way to his tower up there.” The wizard replies, locking his eyes with Sybil’s.

The cleric nods in response before stepping forward, “Thanks Rolan it was wonderful to see you, I did miss you you know.” She whispers as if she didn’t want her companions to hear her. Before Rolan could respond Sybil pulled back and motioned for her group to follow her. Rolan only managed to catch one more glimpse of her as she walked up the stairs. For the rest of the shift all he could think about was what Sybil told him, he refused to believe she meant it in any way other than as friends. He had simply messed things up one too many times for her to ever think about him that way. Or so he thought

Plus one

Rolan’s entire body ached, the adrenaline that coursed his body through battle finally wearing off. Lorroakan had been defeated thanks to Sybil and the actual Nightsong or as she called herself Dame Aylin. Once he found out that the Nightsong was in fact a person and not an artifact Rolan felt not only disgusted but betrayed, he never would’ve worked for Lorroakan if he knew. A million thoughts flew through the red tielfing’s mind, he was so distracted that he once again didn’t notice Sybil approach him. He flinches as he feels hands rest on his shoulders. 

“I just wanted to check up on how you’re doing, you know now that Lorroakan is gone.” Sybil says, she rubs her thumbs back and forth across the shorter man’s shoulders. 

“Honestly I feel fine, all things considered.” Rolan replies looking up at the purple haired cleric who is crouched in front of him.

“That’s great to hear, I’m sure being the new master of the tower is going to take some getting used to. I’m here if you need anything.” The blue tiefling tells him gently, her thumbs still rubbing his shoulders. 

For some reason this seems to be Rolan’s final straw, he stands up forcing Sybil’s hands to leave his shoulders. “I just don’t get you, why are you still so kind to me even though I have been nothing but an arse to you since the day we met?” Rolan asks her, his voice heavy.

This caused Sybil to laugh, a fully body genuine laugh making Rolan’s face scrunch up in confusion. 

“Hells Rolan I really thought I was being obvious this whole time, I’m in love with you have been since the day I saved you in the Shadow Cursed Lands.” Sybil says between giggles. 

Whatever he was expecting her to say it sure as hell wasn’t that,  “Are you quite well? I don’t think you’re aware of what you just said.” Rolan tries to reason with the cleric. 

“Oh for the love of the gods yes Rolan I am aware of what I said and I meant every word, now if it’s okay with you I’d like to kiss you now.”  Sybil groans with a large grin plastering her face.

“Well go on then.” Rolan replies, still in shock. 

Before he could think of anything else he felt soft lips enveloping his own. It shocked him just how soft Sybil’s lips are even after months of adventuring. Rolan sighs as he relaxes into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Sybil’s waist and pulling her closer. Kissing Sybil felt like coming home, a warm tingly feeling flooded the wizard’s entire body. The pair kiss for a few more moments before they are interrupted by several wolf whistles coming from behind them causing the pair to break apart. Sybil groans as she sees the shit eating grins on every single one of her companion’s faces. 

“I’m so sorry about them Rolan, excuse me while I knock some sense into them.” Sybil whispers before giving him one more peck on the lips.

Rolan stands there for a moment watching the taller tiefling make her way over to Astarion and pick him up by the back of his armor causing him to yelp. The wizard laughs as he watches the woman that he loves joke around with her companions. The woman he thought not even 24 hours ago that he had zero chances with. For the first time in over a month his heart was completely full.

Beetle recalls not so very long ago, when they were living on the road instead of safe in their tower, Rolan's magic reflected nothing but pain, worry, loss and doubt.  Now, it seems like every time she gets to see them, they seem blissful, happy or playful.  While he slumbers beside her, Beetle gently caresses his horns, entranced by the shimmering halo of purple clouds above her lover's head. 

“Watching me while I sleep again?  What a creep.”  Rolan yawns, and just like that, the dream mist dissipates.  With a lazy smile on his face, he kisses Beetle's lips, wrapping his arms around her and laying his head on her chest.

“You were doing that thing again,” Beetle giggles softly, returning her hand to his head, running her claws through unruly hair and gently scratching his horns.

“What thing?” Rolan purrs, his tail twisting around Beetle’s until they make a tight helix together.  His own hands were busy kneading and groping at her thighs, her stomach, arms, breasts, anything he could squeeze with his claws to sample her flesh and assure himself he wasn't still dreaming. 

“That thing, you know, when you sleep so deeply that magic circles your horns?”  Beetle explains, tugging softly at his ear.  “Like a little ring of purple mist that moves with your thoughts?”

“Ah, that thing,” Rolan chuckles, lifting himself up on his elbows and looking her in the eyes.  “Dream Weave, I think Gale called it?”  He yawns again, a few tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  “You do enjoy staring at it don't you?”

“It's just another beautiful feature I adore about you, Rolo,” she sits up and kisses him deeply before stretching her arms to the ceiling.  As she begins to move to leave the bed, she tries to pull her tail from his but Rolan refuses to allow it. 

“Ah, I don't think so, darling bug,” says Rolan, with a sly grin.  “Tolna and Cal agreed to open the shop this morning and I refuse to let you leave this tower until the afternoon.”

“Ro, I've got to pee!!! Release my tail!!” Beetle laughs, crossing her legs and wiggling a little.

“Oh, fine!” He groans, still smiling as his tail relaxes and allows her to escape.  “But you better bring that tail straight back to me afterwards!”

“I can't even bring us snacks!?” She shouts as she walks away, swaying her rear end with enthusiasm.

“Alright!  Bring the snacks,” chuckles Rolan, as he watches the female tiefling's back side, ears twitching with every step she takes.  “But nothing that will leave excessive crumbs in the sheets!”