Work Text:
The meat crackled on the spit, fat dripping into the fire, flames rising up to meet it and lick the pork. Gale had a summoned, translucent, blue hand grasp the handle, turning it autonomously. Merlyn felt a bit jealous of the wizard’s skill at cooking, but Gale couldn’t stab enemies, with either magic and steel, half as well as the drow could. Though Gale did still get on his nerves, with his whole ‘do you practice magic?’ shtick.
His pale eyes, one prosthetic and one flesh, watched his friends and comrades relax around the fire. Karlach stretched out wide, letting the heat of the fire wash over her. Wyll was next to her, his horns festooned with ribbons, just like his carefully maintained dreadlocks. The two were animatedly talking about Baldur’s Gate and what they’d do once they arrived. Karlach always wore her emotions on her sleeve, but nonetheless it was amusing to watch her flames turn blue whenever Wyll and her locked eyes. It buoyed Merlyn’s heart to see his adoptive big sister find happiness after being enslaved for so long.
But when he laid eyes on Shadowheart, his spirits fell slightly. The woman who stole his heart was sitting near Halsin and Astarion, but not talking with either of them. Instead, she was pouting slightly, an expression of hers synonymous with deep thought. Her beautiful green eyes were unfocused, seeing but not registering the joviality around her. He’d felt something similar recently; consumed in his thoughts after seeing his older sister holding Bhaal’s sacred dagger.
Deep below Moonrise Towers, in the bowels of the mind flayer colony, he shook with rage, his bhaalspawn blood boiling. His brother, the pale dragonborn that was the perfect scion of Bhaal, was dead! Slain by this wretched woman, as undeserving of Bhaal’s favour as he was. He’d shut himself off from his friends, drowning in hatred for Orin and desire for Enver, unable to focus. Thankfully, Karlach had figuratively slapped Merlyn until he had regained himself enough to at least talk to her. His useless guts still churned with fear at the thought of arriving at Baldur’s Gate and confronting both his sister and the man who had used him as a plaything. But he knew he could rely on his new family.
And Shadowheart could rely on him. Something was clearly on her mind, and Merlyn wouldn’t let it fester until it began to eat at her from the inside-out.
As if in-sync with his observation, Shadowheart rose from the log next to the fire, murmuring her apologies and excusing herself. She walked away from the fire, towards Merlyn’s and her tent. The former Sharran shivered and held her arms close as the warmth gave way to the cool night air.
Halsin looked from Shadowheart to Merlyn. A kind smile stretched across his broad face and his grey-hazel eyes twinkled. “You should go after her. I think she needs you right now.”
Upon hearing that, Minthara chuckled, dark and rich. “A soft touch? If there ever was a use for you, iblith, now would be the time.” Her words were venomous and cruel, but her tone was lighter than it would have once been.
Merlyn nodded; the older elves were right. He couldn’t be paralysed by indecision; his love needed him! He got up and dusted off his brown trousers.
“Thanks Halsin,” Merlyn smiled, his scaled cheeks wrinkling. He glanced at the drow woman and inclined his head. “Minthara.”
As he followed Shadowheart, he overheard Gale quip “But Minthara, you love my soft touches.” Her response was drowned in the laughter of the others.
Merlyn and Shadowheart’s tent was made of a rich purple canvas, adorned with Sharran iconography. Though Shadowheart had walked away from the dark goddess, the tent was too useful to be thrown away. Who knew when they might find another shelter that was so sturdy and yet so spacious?
“Shadowheart?” Merlyn asked, as he poked his head into the tent. “Are you alright?”
She knelt in the corner of the tent, over a small basin of water and with a cloth in hand. Water dripped off the tip of her very cute nose. A small ball of magical light, yellow and warm like the Sun, floated in the centre of the tent. Shadowheart dried her face off and stood, turning and taking Merlyn’s hands in her own. She exhaled a shaky breath and her lip quivered.
Merlyn brought her in close, wrapping his arms around Shadowheart in a warm embrace. She relaxed and leaned her head against his shoulder, forehead warm against his scales.
“It’s alright, I’m here.” Merlyn reassured her. “I’m never going to leave you.”
Shadowheart squeezed him tighter and looked into his eyes; green into white. “Even if you go mad and try to bite me again?”
A shy, slightly-shamed smile flitted across Merlyn’s lips. “I’ll be a rabid dog, but I’ll be your rabid guard dog.”
Shadowheart chuckled and kissed him, her lips softer and kinder than anything Merlyn had known. She broke away and leaned against him once more.
“I suppose you want to know why I didn’t stay with the group.” She said.
“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to, my love.” Merlyn replied.
“It’s… fine.” Shadowheart said. “Well, it’s not fine, but I’m fine with telling you about this. It’s the Shadowfell. I can still feel it all over me; still feel Shar’s words in my ear. I feel… unclean.”
Merlyn’s heart ached and his ire rose. Shar’s petty vindictiveness angered him; at least in the temple of Bhaal disputes were solved directly and without figurative backstabbing. It was literal backstabbing; much more respectable.
“I’m sorry,” murmured Merlyn. “Is there anything you want to do about it?”
“I want to wash it away,” sighed Shadowheart. “All of it.”
“That cloth-and-basin will take a while. Did you have another idea?”
“In fact; yes I did, Merlyn.” Shadowheart glared at him, but she couldn’t repress a grin from spreading across her lips. “While the others are gallivanting around the fire, come with me. There’s a place we can go, down the coast a little.”
“The coast? I thought you couldn’t swim?” Teased Merlyn.
Shadowheart playfully shoved him away, then bent down to pack things into a bag. Two thick sheets of linen, used for drying after a bath, and a bottle of wine, which clinked against something else as she placed it in the bag.
“Wyll’s been teaching me. He’s much more patient than you are.”
The trek southward towards the cove Shadowheart had spied earlier was pleasant; the cool night air rustling Merlyn’s white hair, the smell of salt rolling off the ocean, and sight of Shadowheart leading him through moonlit forest. He felt like he could watch her for the rest of his long life, losing himself in the softness of her skin, her scent, the lustre and feel of her hair, the vibrant green of her eyes. The scar on her face added some lovely texture to her otherwise flawless complexion. The way that her whole face and neck and ears went pink when she blushed was just as sublime as every other part of her.
Of course, there were more carnal thoughts; Merlyn was as mortal as any other. He couldn’t deny that walking behind Shadowheart left a lot to stare at. But it felt… wrong, somehow, to think that at this moment. This was vulnerability; two damaged hearts touching and repairing one-another, one step at a time. Not empty lust.
The gentle crash of waves upon sand and rocks was heard before Merlyn spotted the sand. Cliffs, topped with hardy vegetation, gave way to the gently rolling ocean. Before his forced insertion into a nautilloid, the only ocean Merlyn had known were the grimy, smelly waters soaking Baldur’s Gate. His time in the wilderness, and now here, had shown him that the waters could be pleasant, beautiful even. Though not as beautiful as Shadowheart. She stopped and placed the bag on the sand, nodding contently to herself.
“This is the spot,” she said. “Take off your clothes.”
Merlyn’s white eyebrows shot up and his purple cheeks darkened. “W-what? Are we-?”
“We’re going swimming, Merlyn. I don’t exactly intend to get my clothes soaked. Some other things though, they may get wet, who knows.” A cheeky smirk graced her visage.
“Oh, right.” Merlyn covered his eyes with a hand, shaking his head. “As you command, my lady.”
He undid the laces of his leather boots and slipped them off, before his socks followed suit, stuffed into the necks of the hardy footwear. The laces of his trousers were next, then his underwear. He’d always felt a strange sense of embarrassment about his genitals; having a penis covered in scales and a vagina was not exactly common amongst drow, even those made from the offal of Bhaal’s flesh. But around Shadowheart, he felt none of that. It was part of how the two had bonded as their relationship had deepened; Shadowheart’s dysphoria about her penis was a reassuring mirror to his own feelings about his body. But she’d made him feel handsome and desired; worthy of love! , despite what he thought, and he’d tried his best to return the favour. She was beautiful, and deserved to feel as such.
He pulled his shirt over his torso, folding it before placing it on his trousers. He turned around to face Shadowheart. He couldn’t help himself from a small gasp, stunned at what was before him.
Shadowheart was like she had stepped from a dream; naked before him. Her moon-white hair was loose, cascading around her shoulders in soft waves, some small strands gently moving in the wind. Merlyn couldn’t help but stare, and judging by the way her eyes roamed up and down, she couldn’t stop herself from doing the same. Her nipples, atop small breasts and exposed to the sea air, had stiffened. Somewhat shamefully, Merlyn felt himself hardening as blood rushed to his groin. His cheeks flushed.
“Sorry,” apologised Merlyn, and made to cover himself.
“Why are you doing that?” Shadowheart asked, walking towards him. “If I didn’t want to see you, and have you see me, I wouldn’t have asked you to strip.”
He kissed her. She moaned into his lips before, reluctantly, slowly, pulling away.
“As much as I want to enjoy every inch of you, you did promise to help me get clean, my love.”
“You’re beautiful Shadowheart,” whispered Merlyn. “Can you blame me?”
“Of course not.” She kissed him once more, gently. Then took his hand and led him towards the water.
As the water lapped at her toes, she wiggled them and inhaled sharply. She stopped in her tracks, fear blooming in her eyes.
“I don’t know that I can do this, now that we’re here. The sea’s so… big. And so cold.” Shadowheart confessed.
Merlyn squeezed her hand reassuringly, but couldn’t resist teasing her. “After everything we’ve been through, I didn’t think you’d be afraid of getting wet.”
“More the drowning. And the things that could be hiding underwater, and the drowning, and the cold!” Shadowheart said, her speech hastening. “Did I mention the drowning?”
Merlyn said nothing but looked at her, hand-in-hand. He could see, in the subtle pull of delicious muscles beneath flesh, Shadowheart’s jaw set.
“Let’s… get on with it,” she resolved. “Before I lose my nerve.”
The two stepped into the ocean. Merlyn was surprisingly good with the cold, but the chill of the salt water still made him inhale sharply. It wasn’t painful or unpleasant, just… bracing. Merlyn frowned. Maybe Gale’s verbosity was rubbing off on him, as annoying as that idea may be.
Eventually, the sandy seafloor gave way beneath their feet, leaving them bobbing in the waves. Merlyn heard Shadowheart titter next to him, fear creeping into her voice.
“You’re fine Shadowheart; the shore’s right there.” Merlyn assured her as he tread water. “Remember what Wyll taught you, and our magic can keep each other safe.”
“You’re right,” nodded Shadowheart, though the fear was still in her eyes. “It’s still freezing! How do people do this?!”
“Uh, with difficulty at first, I guess?” Merlyn said. “It gets easier the more you do it.”
Shadowheart chuckled, then she began to laugh so hard she snorted. There was no sweeter melody to Merlyn’s ears. Merlyn’s smile was so wide his cheeks hurt, but the pain was so good.
Shadowheart’s pale hand flashed, and water splashed towards Merlyn’s face. Instinctively, he flinched, his eyes closing as the cold water soaked his white hair and ran down his skin. When he opened his eyes, Shadowheart was staring at him, giggling. Her wet hair clung to her skin and haloed her in the water, like radiance around a shining light.
He grinned back at her and threw some water at her, flicking his fingers and letting his magic do the rest. The water dropped on top of her head and she gasped as the cold water hit her scalp. Merlyn couldn’t help but laugh at his payback, and swam towards her. As she flicked her hair out of her eyes, Merlyn kissed her on the cheek.
“So cruel; bullying a mere beginner so!” Tutted Shadowheart, faux-scandalised.
“If you can’t take it, don’t give it,” quipped Merlyn.
Shadowheart kissed him, and whispered in his ear. “Wouldn’t you like to know how good I am at taking it?”
Merlyn grinned and kissed her back. Deeper, hungrier.
When the two lovers felt the sea’s chill in their bones, they swam back to the beach, wading up the shoreline to dry off and enjoy each other more. Merlyn’s blood sang with arousal, heat pooling in his groin. His gaze hungrily ran over Shadowheart’s body; her skin, her breasts, her lips, her arse, her cock. Every part was perfect, and he needed to show her his devotion. But he restrained himself. He’d only take the next step if Shadowheart wanted it too; he wanted to love her with everything he had, and that would only happen if she felt the same.
Merlyn was yanked out of his thoughts by a startled yelp, followed by a splash. Shadowheart was on her hands and knees before him, lower limbs submerged in water. Merlyn knelt beside her and offered her his hand.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“A rock, beneath the water,” groaned Shadowheart. “Nearly stubbed my toe.”
“Good thing we have a cleric who’s particularly adept with healing magic,” said Merlyn as he helped Shadowheart to her feet.
“Kiss-arse,” she smiled, before draping her arms around his neck and drawing him in for a kiss. Merlyn’s hunger flared, his folds grew wet, and his length stiffened, pushing against Shadowheart’s thigh. She moaned and kissed him deeper, her tongue pushing into his mouth. His breath hitched for a moment, then he began to move his forked tongue in tandem, the two muscles dancing.
Shadowheart’s hands roamed Merlyn’s body, touching every part she could with insatiable lust: hands running along his thighs, caressing his jaw and ears; fingers running through his hair, digging deep into his arse.
“Gods, I wanted to do that for a while.” Shadowheart husked. “You have the best arse, you know that?”
Merlyn was shocked; had Shadowheart seen her own? He moved his hands down, cupping her plush cheeks. The slightest movement set them bouncing. He stared, transfixed, and so hard it almost hurt. He looked into her eyes, brows raising and drawing together in exaggerated disbelief.
“Point taken.” Shadowheart noted, and moved her left hand to grasp Merlyn’s right. She moved it towards her groin. “You remember how you said that you didn’t think I was afraid of getting wet?”
She placed his hand upon the tip of her penis, his fingers instinctively caressing the sensitive head. Her cock was soaked with precum; even wetter than he was.
“Let me assure you: I’m not,” moaned Shadowheart.
He rubbed his thumb against her tip, squeezing her soft arse as he pulled her close. His own cock was hard as steel, smearing his own precum across her length, lubricating it as he slowly moved his hand down her shaft, teasing every moan out of her. Shadowheart moaned, her hips bucking into his hand. As his hand moved back up, he stopped halfway, earning him an angry glare, before his thumb reached up and caressed her slit. Her eyes widened and breath hitched, her arousal throbbing in his hand.
“Wait, wait,” she gasped. Merlyn stopped, a pinprick of doubt in his heart. Was he not good enough?
“I want to try something else.” Shadowheart said. She moved his hand away, then her own hand curled around both their erections, rubbing them against each other. A shiver of pleasure ran along Merlyn’s spine, like lightning through water. He gasped and inhaled a shaky breath, staring deep into Shadowheart’s eyes.
“I need you, Shadowheart.” He moaned, his pale eyes burning with desire. He felt her throb against him as her hand came up to caress his scaly shaft. She looked at him, face fully flush with lust. Unable to resist, he leaned in to kiss her, lips locking in a hungry embrace. She responded in kind, pushing against him as their cocks rubbed together; scales on soft skin, precum covering both lengths and Shadowheart’s hand.
Merlyn brought a hand up to caress Shadowheart’s breast, squeezing the soft flesh; first gently, then hard. Still kissing him, Shadowheart keened with pleasure, a new surge of wet arousal coming from her slit. Her nipple was as hard as diamond, and would taste far sweeter, if he were to worship it. Any part of her would be the finest ambrosia to him.
Her quaking legs and frantic panting told him she was close, and he couldn’t hold back either. Some part of him was vaguely aware that they still stood in the shallow water of the shore, that his feet were going numb, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was her.
The oh-so-pleasurable tension of approaching his apex gripped his body, and his back arched, pushing his hips towards Shadowheart, thrusting into her hand. He broke the kiss, if only to voice his ecstasy.
“Fuck, Shadowheart,” he said needily. “Please, I want to cum with you.”
“Not yet,” moaned Shadowheart, slowing, then stopping her strokes. In her eyes, Merlyn saw two competing lusts. “I want our first time together to be special. I want you inside me.”
A shudder ran through Merlyn’s body, hot and nearly overwhelming; the thought alone nearly forcing him to climax. Shadowheart walked up the beach, finally leaving the water. Merlyn watched her go, entranced in the sway of her hips, the bounce of her arse, everything. He followed her up, feeling slowly returning to his feet.
Shadowheart laid one of the linen sheets on the sand, then pulled out a bottle and sat down. At first, Merlyn was confused as to why Shadowheart would need wine. But then he looked: it was oil. Lubricant.
His love lay back on the sheet and dipped her fingers into the bottle before placing it next to her. Her fingers, long and dexterous, reached between her spread legs, coating her entrance before she pushed inside with a moan and a shiver. Merlyn’s length, slowly flagging from a lack of attention, had new life breathed back into it.
Shadowheart’s eyes were locked on Merlyn as her fingers worked within herself, preparing and pleasuring herself. She bit her lip and her legs shook for a moment, then she pulled her fingers out.
“I still need to warm up some more, but I’d much rather that you do it than I,” Shadowheart said, pink spreading across her face, ears, and neck. “If… you’d like to do that.”
“I’d love to,” murmured Merlyn. He poured the oil over his own fingers and knelt down over Shadowheart.
Her cock, now semi-flaccid, still twitched and spread arousal all over her abs, while her entrance quivered. He pushed one finger through that ring of muscle, greedily drinking down Shadowheart’s moans. Merlyn moved the finger in-and-out, then pushed another in. Pushing further in, he felt a slightly rougher spot. When his fingers curled, Shadowheart cried out and her legs twitched, as pleasure jolted her brain.
“Fuck!” Shadowheart bit back a moan. “Yes, Merlyn. Keep going, please.”
How could he say no?
When he pushed a third finger in, he felt her walls cling to them, eager to pull him deeper and all-too-reluctant to let him leave. Her dick twitched with every forward thrust of his digits, soaking her thighs and stomach in precum.
“Please please please please, Merlyn.” Shadowheart begged. “I need you right now, please.”
“Gods above, you’re so beautiful Shadowheart,” said Merlyn, as he pulled his fingers out of his love, his everything. “I will give you anything you need.”
“What I need is you, inside me!” Shadowheart laughed breathlessly, though her wiggling hips betrayed her desperation.
Merlyn coat his length in the oil, scales shining in the moonlight. He leaned over her, hips pushing forward until the head of his cock pressed against her entrance. He guided it in, pushing into her. A moan of ecstasy filled the air, but he couldn’t tell who it was from. Maybe their minds were melding after all.
She was so hot, burning with arousal all around his shaft, squeezing it as if he were being milked.
“Oh fuck, ah-!” Shadowheart’s lips, wet and full, parted as she cried out. Her legs tightened and shook and her abdomen clenched as the waves of an orgasm ripped through her. Clear girlcum shot from her cock onto her stomach, pooling around her navel. Her arse, tight before, gripped Merlyn so firmly some distant part of his mind though he’d be trapped inside her.
As the throes of her climax left her, Shadowheart shakily inhaled and exhaled, her mind returning to her body. Something behind her eyes clicked, and she realised that Merlyn had yet to cum.
“Shit, I’m sorry Merlyn. I just… I couldn’t hold back.”
“Don’t worry my love, I’m sure we can figure something out,” Merlyn smirked, then thrust deeper into Shadowheart.
Her eyes widened and her body, nerves still afire from cumming, shivered as overstimulation whited out her mind for a moment.
“M-m-Merlyn, I just came, I’m so sensi-ahh!” Shadowheart’s shaky protestations were cut off as Merlyn pushed deeper into her, his tip pushing against her prostate.
Shadowheart’s breath hitched as she moaned wordlessly, hips bucking, trying to pull Merlyn deeper into her. Her legs wrapped around the small of his back, locking him in place. With one final, slow thrust, Merlyn bottomed-out inside her, his groin pressed against her cheeks. Then, slowly, almost cruelly so, he drew back until only the head of his cock was inside her, before pushing back into her, grinding his scales against her pleasure spot. He hissed at her tightness, shaking with ecstasy.
He leaned over her, arms planted either side of her head. His white hair hung down, her matching locks spread around her head. Green eyes, half-lidded with overstimulation and mind-melting pleasure, stared up at him from a flushed, love-drunk face.
“N-need you,” babbled Shadowheart, nearly drowning in her arousal. “F-faster, Merlyn, fuck me faster.”
Merlyn said nothing, but kissed her gently, then moved his kisses down her jaw, to her neck. He kissed her there, then bit and sucked at her skin, drawing forth incoherent moans; protestations against blemishes, begging for more, pleading for Merlyn to fill her. His hips moved back-and-forward, pounding her into the sand, the clap of flesh-on-flesh echoing across the cove and its surrounds. There was no way someone wouldn’t hear them, but Merlyn didn’t care, couldn’t care.
He sucked and kissed the soft skin of her neck, thrusting his hips back and forth. His mind was consumed by the desire, the need to fill Shadowheart; to make her cum over and over until she couldn’t walk. He could feel her shudder and cry out, reaching her peak time and time again, her brain melting under ectasy. Merlyn was nothing but an instrument of her pleasure and he was all-too-wiling to be just that.
As he hilted himself in Shadowheart, again and again, Merlyn felt his peak coming on, his body twitching. Beneath him, Shadowheart was lost in pleasure; eyes rolled back, orgasming over and over, coating the couple’s abdomens with her cum. He pulled back, looking at the beautiful woman below him; the perfect woman.
“I’m gonna cum,” Merlyn panted, just barely holding himself back from the edge. “I’m going to fill you up.”
Suddenly, unexpectedly, Shadowheart’s hands shot up and grasped Merlyn’s head, pulling him down into a desperate, needy kiss. She kissed him drunkenly, her teeth scraping his lip, moaning into his mouth. That was enough.
With a groan, Merlyn thrust one last time into Shadowheart as his vision went white and every inch of his being was seized with lightning. His blood roared in his ears as his dick pulsed, pumping his cum deep inside her. Her walls convulsed around him as she reached her own climax, the final of many tonight. Shadowheart’s legs squeezed him so tight he felt as if he’d snap in two, holding him close as if she could keep him inside her forever.
When his vision returned to him, though his head was still swimming, Merlyn basked in the afterglow. Every muscle ached and he panted, chest heaved. Was there any sweeter sight?
Shadowheart was similarly dishevelled, staring up at him, infatuation in her half-lidded, green eyes. Her legs still trembled with aftershocks, and Merlyn could feel her twitch around his length. Their stomachs were sticky from Shadowheart’s innumerable climaxes. Gently, slowly, Merlyn pulled out of her. Electricity ran up from his groin, through his spine, to his brain; eliciting a gasp and shudder. Shadowheart cooed and bit her lip, eyes still fixated on him. The gentle murmur of the sea was only punctuated by their gasps and and breaths.
Overcome by a sudden urge, Merlyn kissed Shadowheart on the stomach. Her nectar was sticky and sweet. Kiss by kiss, he made his way up her wondrous body till he lay over her, face to face.
“I love you,” confessed Shadowheart.
Merlyn smiled and leaned down to kiss her.
“I love you too.”
The next morning, the camp of adventurers readied themselves for another day as the Sun rose higher and higher in the sky. Some of them would seek out Gortash, apparently in nearby Rivington for the coronation of a new Archduke, likely himself. Others had heard tell of a strange, magical circus. Not a vital priority, but levity was always welcome in the life of an adventurer.
Merlyn was lacing up his boots when a hand firmly grasped his shoulder, so tight that it hurt.
“Merlyn!” Shadowheart hissed. Merlyn turned to her, afraid that she was in danger. Thankfully, she was fine, though the frustration on her face said otherwise. She glared at him and pointed sharply at the purple bruise on her neck, plainly visible and too high up to be hidden beneath her maille.
“Oh, right.” Merlyn grimaced. “Sorry. We could blame it on Astarion?”
“Blame what on me?” Asked the elven vampire, who just so happened to be wandering past. He glimpsed Shadowheart’s bruise, her furrowed brow, and Merlyn’s shock. “Oh.”
He laughed, full-throated yet somehow light and airy. His grin, with those prominent, predatory fangs of his, was almost theatrical. He almost seemed to enjoy holding Merlyn’s hope in his undead hands. Before dropping it to shatter on the ground.
“No.”