#tavtash

Nothing could have prepared Tav for what she felt the next day, waking up alone. A bottomless pit in her stomach, making her wonder if she made a terrible mistake. Regret, constricting her throat. And, worst of all: longing.  

As soon as she woke up, before even opening her eyes, she saw him. Saw him with his stupid mask, smirking at her. Heard him speak to her in that annoying voice, nasal and arrogant. Felt him, not even his cock, but his lips on her neck and his tongue on her skin. She desperately sat up, looked around and tried to focus on anything but the memory of that damn encounter, but found that she couldn’t. Like a vortex, the thought of him kept pulling her back. It took everything in her not to simply get up and walk back to that estate, trying to find him. 

I probably don’t even have to try. He acted like he owned the place. Wait… FUCK.

That realization was sobering enough. It had to be Gortash. Had to be. Not that the description of “charming” and “handsome” was particularly fitting, at least not for that man that had fucked her against the wall as if his life depended on it. He wasn’t exactly beautiful by Sword Coast standards, but she found his dark hair and grueling eyes captivating. Besides … those lips. Those hands. 

Groaning, Tav shook her head trying to clear it. Maybe there was a way to use what happened to her advantage? Then again, he’d called for the guards. Had looked her in the eyes, had felt what she felt, and then … 

What did I feel, exactly?

It was disturbing. Never before had she felt such a pull towards a complete stranger. Of course she’d found herself intrigued by people before, but Tav wasn’t one to bend over and let a random man fuck her in the middle of his house, all while his guests were present. Guests that could have recognized her as the daughter of – 

“Tav darling, are you joining us for breakfast? We’re terribly curious to hear news of Lord Gortash’s masquerade.” 

Speak of the devil. 

“I’ll be right there”, Tav called back to her mother. 

But first, she needed to take a bath. Remnants of that … gods, that grifter and slaver and potentially even murderer were probably still smeared between her legs. Washing him off of her would be almost as important as trying to figure out how to tell her mother that she couldn’t get any intel last night because she’d been too busy getting fucked. 

************

“So she lives”, Jaheira said from behind a cup of tea as soon as Tav appeared in the dining room. 

“I do indeed”, Tav replied, now freshly bathed, hair still damp and pulled back into a bun, wearing a pair of soft cotton pants and a double-woven linen shirt. She walked around the table and took a seat to her mother’s left, offering the two older women a small smile. “Apologies. It got late last night.”

“We can see that.” Her mother, ever the cheerful schemer, chuckled lightly. “Combining business with pleasure then?”

Tav tried to hide the confusion on her face, but before she could ask whatever her parent meant by that, Jaheira cleared her throat and spoke.

“She means to ask where you got that hickey on your neck, child.”

All color drained from Tav’s face. Awkwardly, and completely unbecoming of her third decade of living, she brought up her hands as if she could feel the mark Gortash left on her. 

“I had this before last night”, she quickly clarified, annoyed that she was such a bad liar. Maybe that was why Gortash had seduced her. Lured her in after immediately identifying her for the snooping intruder she was, rather than a guest. 

“And I’m the Empress of Amn”, Jaheira said sternly, corners of her mouth twitching. “Nevermind that. Did you find the documents?”

Tav tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I found my way around the estate and confirmed the escape route through the basement. Beyond that I couldn’t get the plan in motion. Gortash spotted me snooping around and called for the guards.”

All technically true. 

The Harper cursed out quietly, earning her a disapproving look from Tav’s mother. 

“I don’t think he recognized me”, she quickly added. “So I could make contact again.”

“Are you quite sure?” Her mother’s soft eyes fixated on her. 

“Yes.” 

There was no way he would know who she was. She had only recognized him from the context clues he’d left her, and even during their time together, most of it she’d spent facing the wall. 

“Well, good”, her mother nodded. “Because your father and I talked. We’re going to officially petition for you to take our family’s seat in the Parliament. It should be a formality. As a newcomer your onboarding will be done by the rule of last.”

The rule of last was an informality that ran through most of the Sword Coast’s politics and economies: Last person to join trains the newest member. 

Gortash.

Tav felt a small flutter in her chest, sighing at the blatant display of nerves. 

“I won’t screw this up”, she replied quickly. “Though I have to wonder why you didn’t send me to the masquerade to secure an introduction instead. I could have had him wrapped around–“

Jaheira snorted. “That man has been seducing half the city. You think he wouldn’t recognize his favorite game when a new round starts?”

“I’m not some older woman with no prospec-“

“Exactly. You’re the shiny new toy, exactly the kind of honeypot we’d use on a man like him. Except we won’t. We want him to think he’s seducing you. We want him to feel in control. Until you’re in so deep you’ll drag him down with you, should he attempt to get rid of you.”

“A double agent, so to say”, her mother smiled.

Oh. So all of this was just a test.

One she had spectacularly failed. 

“Fine”, Tav replied. “I’ll just act like I hate him. Shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

None. At all.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Wet sounds … a mouth around his cock. Teeth grazing his skin, a hand wrapped around his base, squeezing. 

Fuck.

Gortash wasn’t questioning where that stranger had come back from. How she’d found his room, entered, and then slipped into his bed to suck him off. All that mattered as he slowly came to was that warm, wet feeling. 

“Gods”, he groaned, still groggy, hands slipping underneath the blanket to reach her. Maybe the guards got to her after all. Maybe she wanted to make it up to him. “I’ll come all over your face and then I’ll let you sit there, unable to clean yourself off”, he sighed, his fingers tangling in her hair. “No mask? Good … I can’t wait to see that face soiled …”

One hand in her hair, he pulled on her head, hard, while the other threw back the blanket. 

Oh.

Red eyes stared back at him. Silver hair. The features of his favorite assassin. There was a moment of silence as he watched Daria with his cock in her mouth, eyes sparkling, her mouth twisted into a smirk. 

“What are you doing?”, Gortash asked, a bit more annoyed than he wanted to let on. 

The Dark Urge pulled back, sitting up with a mischievous grin. “She tastes good. Didn’t even clean her off, hm? Want to taste her? Say please like the pathetic dog that you are and maybe I’ll give you a kiss.”

He rolled his eyes and straightened up, moving away from his partner. “How did you get in?”, he demanded to know instead, now more level-headed than in his half-asleep state. 

“No ‘Lovely to see you my dear’ or ‘please Daria, get me off so I can moan another woman’s name’? Not even a ‘Good morning how are you’?” 

Gortash paused. “Fine. Good morning, dear. How are you?”

“Fucking fantastic. Found these sweethearts down by the harbor. Romantic picnic. Ate her heart first and made him watch, than ate his for dessert.”

He’d learned not to question her too deeply about what she was up to on her own whenever she was serving Bhaal. In fact, he’d asked her many times before not to complicate matters by leaving evidence or risking people finding out about anything that could be traced back to him. He found her particular need for violence and debauchery … unbecoming. Still, he enjoyed her. Maybe even her company. 

“So you’re mad”, he gathered, swinging his legs over to the side of his bed. “There is no need for that, dear. Our shared plan is still my first priority.”

Daria threw her head back and laughed, loudly, her grey-blue skin glowing in the soft morning light. “I’m not mad about some random cunt you got to fuck”, she giggled. “I’m mad because we should be moving towards the next phase of our plan, not dilly dally around at a masquerade.”

“I’m not in the mood to continue our prolonged arguments, dear”, Gortash declared, standing up. “The party already happened. We’ll be testing the modified tadpoles soon. I can assume you’re still with me, yes?”

Back when they started out as partners, they’d settled on a very simple rule: They would be honest with each other in their alliance. And he was. But lately Daria had been distracted, her attention fractured by an ongoing fight with her own sister, Orin. Daria showing up here was a display of power. She never showed up uninvited. Had never dared to simply break into his bedroom. And while she’d woken him up with his cock in her throat before, that had always happened after they’d fallen asleep together. 

Daria now climbed down from the bed as well and crossed her arms in front of her. “I will not honor such a lousy question with a reply. What I want are your assurances that we will, in fact, move on with the plan. This week.”

“We are not misaligned, Daria.”

She had her knife at his throat before he could even move. 

“You’re starting to piss me off with your evasion and arrogance”, she hissed, grinding her knee between his legs where it found his still half-hard cock. Gortash winced from the pain. 

“We shall move on this week”, he growled, now equally as angry. 

“Good boy.” Daria dragged the knife down towards his cock and smiled, far more forgiving than before. “I have some time if you’d like to play.”

“I do. But I have too much work today. Especially with that commitment I just made.” 

She rolled her eyes again. “Have it your way.”

Just before she turned to leave, he grabbed her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss. There was no trace of that woman left, only Daria’s own saliva, somehow always tasting like flesh and blood. Disappointed, he let her go. 

“I lied”, she smiled sweetly. “No taste of wherever your cock was last night left.” Then, with an intent stare, she bit her lip. “But good to know someone got you all fluttery and excited. About time the grand Enver Gortash showed some weakness.”

Damned bitch.

He chuckled, trying to let the remarks wash over him. Fluttery? Him? Ridiculous.

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Just like he’d been unable to stop himself since he first laid eyes on her five minutes ago: Stalking through the halls in a tight dress, with her hair flowing down past her shoulders like waves in a thunderstorm, giggling like he wouldn’t know she was just pretending to be lost. Batting her eyelashes up at him as if he was some pathetically weak man falling for a pretty face. 

Not that it particularly mattered to him. He’d let her play her little game, let her think she’d won. Gortash already had a plan in mind, he always did; and having her backed against a wall right now proved him right. He was about to get what he wanted, what he deserved, what he had a right to. 

Her. 

Spotting that stranger from across the hall had changed something within him, made him shift his priorities for the night. A price dangling in front of him too good to be passed over. And so he’d decided to pursue her, or at least he believed he decided it, the way an animal decided to extend its claws in the face of prey. His entire body was lit on fire, pulling him towards her, making him say things that he did not necessarily regret but was surprised to hear come out of his mouth. 

That he was going to fuck her, for example. 

And instead of slapping him the way that brashness deserved, she stared up at him, mouth agape, breath coming heavy from that gorgeous chest, like she wanted him – no, needed him to do just that. 

Yes, Lord Enver Gortash chose to believe he had planned this in the split second he waited for her to react.

“Well”, she whispered back, “This better be good.”

Her defiance was entirely expected and yet so surprising Gortash started to smirk. The idea of her enjoying herself... Precome leaked from his tip, leaving a moist spot in his pants. He hadn’t even noticed how hard he’d become, but now? In a rare loss of self-control, a low growl came out of his throat as he spun her around. Gortash took a second to admire the bare skin on her back where her dress fell down in a low cut, freckled and smooth with a couple of small moles adorning her lower back.

His flat palm crashed against her ass before he could stop himself, then pushed up her skirt while freeing his straining cock with the other hand. Her cheeks were full and so delicious, a faint reddish tint tracing where he just slapped her. PerfectI, he thought. Fucking perfect. There was no time to dwell on that display however. None. He needed to fuck her. Now. 

His mouth landed on the nape of her neck, biting down through her hair as he moved her panties aside. She whimpered, whimpered, pushing back her hips straight into his groin. Gortash moved his fingers through her folds, checking if he needed to prep her more, but she was wet already, so fucking wet. 

“Just for me, hm?”, he chuckled more to himself than her, then lined his cock up against her entrance and slipped right in. A small gasp escaped the stranger’s throat, turning into a sob as he slowly worked his entire length into her cunt, groaning the entire way in. His grunts mingled with her sweet sounds, sharply inhaling as he pulled out again, then slammed into her the way she seemed to demand with her slutty fucking hips and her pathetic moaning. 

“Gods”, the stranger cursed out, bracing herself against the wall with her forearms. “More –”

“Shut up”, he hissed, lifting up her right leg to get better access. Deeper. He needed to be deeper. Filling her up, stretching her out, feeling like her tightness was about to suffocate him. And so he switched up his angle, pushing in slowly and deeply, then switching it up to a punishing slam as soon as he felt the walls of her cunt twitch around him. She mewled out something nonsensical in response, but Gortash laughed. “What’s that? You need me to–”

Her elbow hit him right in the ribs. A half-turned head and a choked up protest: “You shut up.” 

There was little he could do against his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the pain from her backwards punch went straight from his ribcage to his cock. It was ridiculous how tight she felt around him, how well he fit into her perfectly warm and wet cunt, and now she hit him and told him to shut up and he fucking loved it. 

By Bane, she’s clenching around me. 

“Whore”, he whispered in return, half an endearment, half an insult. And then he picked up the pace. 

If Gortash had any reason left in him, it might have concerned him how loud they both were. How her moans echoed through the hallway and the sounds of his body slamming against her bare ass cheeks bounced off the walls. But there was no rationality, no awareness. Only primal, feral need. 

“I – need –” 

She choked out her plea and he knew immediately what she wanted. 

It better be good, she’d said, and by the way she was helplessly moaning each time he bottomed out or clawed his fingers deeper into her flesh to hold onto her, he could tell she was close, but not close enough. 

Gortash moved his left hand between her legs, finding her clit to torment. Her body responded with an involuntary shudder and a high-pitched sob. 

By the gods …

He never understood the utter laziness of men who didn't care to pay attention to their female partners in that way. A few circular motions while his tongue licked a spot behind her ear, and she was practically melting in his embrace; all the while moaning like the neediest cunt on this realm of existence.

“That’s it”, he groaned into her ear, feeling her clamp down hard on his cock. “Come for – FUCKING WH–”

The pressure around him was unbearable. The control he so desperately clung to, that last little piece, completely slipped away when she started coming undone. Clenching one, two, three times before her juices dripped down between her thighs, splashing onto his balls, coating him in her desire. Gortash gasped, choked, and slammed into her matching the rhythm of her pulsating cunt, then spilled himself inside of her with a raspy moan. 

For a moment, all he could hear were her breaths. 

“Good gods”, she whispered hoarsely, her body still twitching in waves while he pulled out and let go of her leg.

They were a mess. 

Everything was a mess. 

But it didn’t matter, because he had never wanted someone, something, anything as much in his life as he had wanted this. Her.

Hold on– That’s not … that cannot be true–

“Fuck!” He pushed himself away from her, uncaring whether his cum left a mess on the floor or on her clothes; ignoring her shaking legs and his own fast-paced breathing. His pants had dropped down to his feet, and so he hastily pulled them up, his face twisted in anger.

Someone must have put a spell on him. Someone must have slipped something into his drink. Now that his mind started to clear, he became more and more agitated the longer he thought about what just happened. How little sense any of it made. 

He, Lord Enver Gortash, fucking a stranger in a hallway during the masquerade he so painstakingly arranged over the past weeks and months? The masquerade he’d set up so he could get a seat on the council?

The stranger turned around, her dark hair messy from where he’d grabbed it, her mask hanging halfway down her face, her dress soiled, but she was still so beautiful, so perfect, it took his breath away and–

No. NO.

There was no way he’d let someone else control him. Play tricks with his mind, lure him in until he forgot himself. Make him lose control so he’d give them something to blackmail him with. 

Not a chance. It was bad enough that damned Bhaalite seemed to think she owned him. He couldn’t now lose himself to … this woman–

“GUARDS!” 

Gortash managed to pull himself together, not necessarily caring about the way he might look in the middle of his own estate if someone were to find them now. So what, he’d fucked the most gorgeous person in all of Baldur’s Gate, maybe the Sword Coast? Let them see. Let them all see what power he had over that slut, needy and messy and gorge-

No, wrong, that story was all wrong. He was a victim, an unsuspecting man lured in by a perfec— … whatever the fuck she was … 

“GUARDS!!!”, he repeated once more, louder and more agitated.

The stranger scoffed, shaking her head at him before she looked around in disbelief. The gall of her: First she used magic or something even more sinister to seduce him, and then, when her little jig was up, she pretended to be shocked? Pathetic. Weak.

Still… When one of the nightshift’s watch rotation showed up at the other end of the hallway, her eyes went wide in disappointment. And Gortash felt a small pang.

“W-what?” She sounded actually earnestly shocked. 

He took a step towards her, feeling that insatiable pull again, but this time he ignored it and tried to grab her wrist. He couldn’t let a weapon as dangerous as her escape. Not before he knew exactly how she’d managed to seduce and overpower him, not before he knew how to use those powers for his own. 

“In your dreams!” She moved before he could reach her, effortlessly slipping away from his grasp. She glanced to the other side, towards the shadows and down the hall, taking it all in before making a decision. Another glance at the guard that had almost caught up with them. Gortash made another move towards her … And then she bolted. 

The Banite knew she was gone as soon as she made for a door to the stairway that led down to the basement. Down there were two passages that would take her straight out of the estate, one of them even out of the Upper City, usually used by servants for deliveries. But really it was more the way she held herself. Confident, with ease, looking like she’d done this a thousand times before. Probably had. 

Damned fool. 

Groaning, he let the guard run past him towards the door, disappearing, then turned the other direction himself. Why bother chasing her? Why bother waiting for some useless guard running after her like a fool? Somehow Gortash already knew it was pointless.

Instead he turned away, annoyed enough by the whole event to call it a night. But the further he walked away, the stronger his chest started burning with that insatiable ache again. He forced himself further and further away from where he’d just lost it, or maybe himself, who was to say at this point. Forced himself to go on, bearing the pain that grew and grew, more and more and more, until finally, as if a rope straining under tension, something deep within him snapped and the aching stopped. Shocked and more than annoyed he stood there, gasping for air in the middle of his stairwell.

Damned spell work, Gortash thought, cursing out softly under his breath. At least that should be that.

He took note to call upon the healer tomorrow, just to be sure, and locked himself in his room. It was late. He didn’t care about the masquerade anymore, didn’t care whether the nobles had fallen into his carefully laid traps or if they maybe talked about his escapade with the stranger. There’d be a way to spin this; one way or the other. There always was. But for now all he wanted was the comfort of his privacy, the soft silken sheets in his bed, and some peace and quiet. 

And maybe, if he was really honest with himself, a few more moments to get himself off to the way that whore had felt around his cock. 

But that was for later. For when he was sure he was all on his own again – in his head, heart and… well. Mostly his head. 

Sinking down onto his bed, Gortash threw his mask off to the side and sighed. Slowly, in the back of his mind, there was something gnawing at him in a gruesome and steady pace. A feeling like he was forgetting something. Like something important was going on. Almost … as if he was missing something.