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The Spider Queen's wrath, she'd been told, felt like thousands of venomous spiders crawling across your spine. She let herself be known if she didn't like something.
The dark, pressing cloud touching her mind hours prior, however brief it was - the tinge of disapproval, the shortest flash of anger, before it withdrew as fast as a darting snake, was so much worse.
Not because it caused any harm, nor was it really dangerous to feel him looming and disapproving. To her god, blasphemous thoughts did not matter, and sometimes not even the actions - the only thing that mattered was the results. The outcome was that the trapped man had survived and was now out of the clutches of a dangerous cult, even if not any happier for it. But...
That little disappointed poke had Miya setting herself in front of a black marble bowl, quietly lighting a fire and then tossing in several items from defeated duergar as a sacrificial offering before kneeling in the shadow, bowing her head in prayer. It was the best spot she'd found in weeks, as well. The ruins by and around Grimforge used to be Sharran, which was confirmed by her newly acquired (half) elven friend, which was at least close enough, and the remnants of shadow weave hovered around the empty broken halls like a thin, cool mist. It was comforting, settling the unease, shame and guilt that had turned her stomach into a knotted mess.
"Lord of All Shadows, I offer these daggers in your name, to break the web of the Spider Queen. And..." She took a shuddering breath. "Beg your forgiveness for my tresspass."
The flame flared darker and hotter.
____________
The previous morning they had set out by borrowed ship, covered in mushroom spores after leaving their camp near the myconid colony. It was a good safe spot to sleep, but Miya suspected that they would be slightly less welcome the next night after their parting conversation with Sovereign Spaw.
Its voice echoed in all four of their heads, surprisingly serene and pleasant, like the echo of a song from a deep cavern. Perhaps that was exactly what it was.
((Before you go, I have another boon to ask of you. You have cut the duergar blight, but not its source...))
The drow's content smile fell when the trail of words was interrupted by a vision from the Sovereign, with its meaning attached to the very fabric of the image; 'enemy'. A drow, striding among myconid dead.
(( Nere, this one is called,)) the voice drifted back in. ((he hunted us; hunt him in turn. Bring me his head, and I will know my circle is safe.))
From behind her, Astarion chimed in before she could fully digest what it had just asked, in his usual matter-of-fact, cheerful way when it came to the topic of killing. "I'm more than happy to kill this- eh, whoever he is- but TELL me there's something in it for us?"
(( I ask a boon, again I will give one in return.))
Miya grabbed the rogue's own grabby hands and tugged him back before he could agree for them all.
"My, this sovereign really likes to delegate," Gale said, part amused, part frustrated.
"I mean, this Nere sounds like bad news. I guess we could lend a hand, right?" Karlach pondered out loud.
"NO," Miya snapped back, turning to glare at her gathered companions. "we are not going to hunt him and we are CERTAINLY not going to bring over his head. That is the most vile thing I have heard in a long time. Sovereign, we appreciate your hospitality, but I think our dealings are over. Have a good day."
While later their ship rocked on the black waters, steered by the tiefling (who was tremendously enjoying herself by making them swerve back and forth), Gale carefully sat next to the brooding drow cleric.
It took a minute of silence before Miya huffed and turned to him. "What? Is something on my face?"
"Well, nothing but a most sour expression, as far as I can see," he replied with a small smile. "But you did get a little riled up back there, so I thought to check in on you, just in case. Not that I'm for cutting off heads, even of villains," He leaned in to give a conspirational whisper, "- the crunch always makes me a little queasy."
Despite the earlier bad mood, she cracked a smile, even if it was accompanied by an eyeroll. "That is as good a reason as any."
"Not YOUR reason though, I presume?"
"...I just don't like killing my kin," the drow muttered. "there is enough enmity among us without me contributing to it."
There was a small sensation in the back of her mind, like a shadow putting its hand on her shoulder. She smiled.
Finally standing on the wet stones of the ruined Sharran outpost, Miya wringed the hem of her skirt dry when she caught the conversation of their welcome party and the corsair.
"... shithead! Time you showed up! We got trouble!"
"Sergeant finally choked on True Soul Nere's prick?"
"... Twat Soul caused a rockfall... trapped tighter than a ring on a fat- GAH!"
The female duergar was spun around, to her shock, as Miya glared down at her with an iron grip on her shoulder. "Trapped where? Is he alive?"
"Do we care?" Astarion called out. She ignored him.
Miya wrinkled her nose at them as instead of a response, the woman turned to Greymon and asked with a shiteating grin,
"Who's the hoon? Friend of Nere's? Or you ploughin' drow now?"
Immediately a dark red blush spread over the drow's face. Astarion cackled behind her, while Karlach pretended she hadn't.
"That is disgusting! I assure you, we are not 'ploughin'!"
"Pity for you. A good plough might dislodge that stick from your--"
One narrowly avoided fight later, the group marched up stairs and into the blast of hot, dry air wafting up from the lava surrounding the place, and to the sounds of ancient metal creaking above and below and the clanging of tools against stone. Occasionally, this was punctuated by the sharp whizz of leather, which to Underdark denizens was recognizable as a whip. Shouts became more distinct as they came in further, until a wall of crumbled stone came into view along with a small crowd.
"Look at her," Karlach pointed one of the duergar out immediately. "wanna bet that's the gal whose boots we found on the gnome?"
"I'd like to abstain from betting, on the off chance she just felt really, *really* warm here," Gale chuckled.
"Well, if you're gonna be a chicken about it..."
Their bickering faded out into the background as Miya focused on the rockfall, currently being excavated by a team of very sweaty and nervous gnomes. Caused a rockfall... Without looking, she clapped a hand on the wizard's shoulder before walking towards the scene.
"Gale, would you be so kind and handle the sergeant? I'm going..." She waved a hand towards the rubble. "to check the geology there."
_________________________
The gnomes cowered at the rustle of silk as the drow approached, and they scattered to the side like little fish fleeing from a shark. Miya eyed them, measuring, silently judging, and they shrunk away from her. Without needing to ask, a space got cleared in the front of the pile of boulders, and she placed a hand flat on one of the ones in the front, focusing.
As she neared the rubble, something brushed past her mind, connecting through the synapses to the tadpole nestled deep within. Immediately a fragmented, desperate presence clutched at her mind, pulling closer like it was the sole thing helping it stay on the edge of the abyss. “A… True So- Soul…?! Finally! You must clear… rubble! Filling with… poison!”
There was a distinct recognizable accent, sharp and clear, if muffled. Menzoberranzan.
She clutched the stone, focusing on the fragmented, high strung voice. Switching smoothly to High Drow, she responded, “Nere?? What is the situation there?”
“Corridor... triggered old trap... cave-in.. passage collapsed… gnome slaves digging- careful of mercs- GET ME OUT!” His voice was full of frustration and rage, pained and hazy. Ah yes, poison fumes…
She focused harder, frowning in concentration to deepen the bond.
The view through Nere’s eyes was a blur. Then, it resolved into an image. Two gnomes feverishly removing debris, with two others laying dead at his feet, their flesh scorched.
Then, nothing.
“Wha…” Disoriented and confused from suddenly getting pushed out into the present, Miya blinked repeatedly at the warm stone in front of her. “Ne… Nere?”
Silence.
“Shit. NERE?!”
There was no response, not at the moment, and neither when she reached out again for a connection intentionally this time and only found a vague presence.
Miya glanced down. The gnomes were trying hard to not stare or listen in, pausing the harder work for the moment as she listened and instead carefully removed the bits of rock already chipped off. No, that would not do. It would be disgraceful to lose her nerve in front of slaves, and especially show it openly.
Trying to breathe and calm her racing heart, she took a few steps backwards and away from the collapsed cliff.
“Resume,” she told the gnomes curtly, turning on her heel and walking back towards her little group. Had he passed out? Had he … no, if the tadpoles were anything, they were truthful. If he had died, it would die, having nowhere to go in the dense air and no host to jump to quickly enough, and it was there… for now.
At a brisk pace, she joined their wizard and barbarian, supporting him via menacing glares as he was caught in a passionate negotiation with what she recognized to be Sergeant Thrinn. Her shoes were returned, but her bad mood persisted. Astarion stood a little further afar, watching the conversation with a tongue-in-cheek smile. Miya joined him, looking between them in confusion. “What are they talking about?”
“So, Karlach wants the gnomes free. Thrinn doesn't want the little buggers free, because obviously she doesn't. Gale is trying to convince them to cooperate. “ He flashed his fangs in a big grin. ”I want to see who's going to throw a punch first.”
She laughed and tousled his hair (lightly, to not ruin the painstakingly perfected style), then joined the negotiations. Another tingle went through her tadpole.
“Ah! Another True Soul!” The Sergeant hummed, arms crossed. “Your company here could have said so. You here to take responsibility, I hope?”
“For him?” Miya pointed towards the rockfall. “Yes. For the gnomes, no.”
Through their connection, she felt a deep resentment and disapproval from Karlach, and a small one from Gale. Smug satisfaction from Astarion. She gave them a sideway glance and switched to Undercommon. “/I couldn't care less for the runts, but she's my best muscle and he's all of my offensive spells, and I don't wanna lose either of them for obvious reasons. Say I get Nere out all by myself; that count for a discount for your workers?/”
Thrinn raised an eyebrow with a bemused expression and crossed her arms. Continuing in the same language, she said, “/All of them? Now, where would that leave me? Of course I am willing to give a few to support the cause, but ya know- I need to support my own livelihood too, True Soul./”
“/Of course not./” The drow swept a hand around over the gnomes in a wide arc, and subtly nodded towards the tiefling. “/Only ones that they know are here./”
A grin split the duergar's face. “/Ah, the age old exact words./” Smoothly switching back to Common, she said, “Fine. I will be all too happy to part with a few slaves if that means the True Soul will be out with no further problems - him and the merc's money.” Karlach tangibly perked up. “What's your plan?”
“We have a couple barrels of smokepowder and firewine at camp,” Miya flipped back as well. “so YOU better start clearing the area out.”
_____________
With Astarion splitting up one barrel into several small packets of smokepowder, tying them with deft fingers tightly, and the rest unloading the other supplies they collected around the forge, Shadowheart sketched a quick but surprisingly accurate little map in ash, with Miya looking over her shoulder. “So, if the dig yielded nothing here… this and this spot ough to be the one where most weight presses… so where to put the powder for maximum safety. Most should be blown right into the lava.“
“So, we're saving this ‘Nere’ from suffocating, yes? Not trying to kill him,” Astarion piped up. “I'm fine with either, but with the latter we could save the powder and just leave him.”
“Of course! We can't leave him to die,” Miya replied, giving him a side eye. He burst out laughing, until he saw her murderous glare in response. “AHAH- Oh, you're serious. Uh, of course we can leave him, it's the easiest thing in the world. We just get up, and walk away.”
Shadowheart laughed. “Clearly she meant we shouldn't leave the drow to die, even if we technically don't need him. “
The rogue rolled his eyes. “If you insist on being a hero, I won't get in your way. Just don't expect me to help, either.“ He paused. “After this, I mean.”
“There's also the matter of the gnomes, “ Gale called out from afar, stocking up their new batch of scrolls into storage happily. “wouldn't do to stand by and keep them enslaved.”
“Yes!” Karlach called out. Her heat emanated to them even a few paces away for excitement. “We NEED to get him unstuck, or those gnomes are done for! C’mon, focus!“
Miya could feel irritation rising from the depths of her stomach, and stood to balance it out. The two sitting on rocks below looked up. “Would you believe I care more about the man who is trapped behind a wall with poisonous fumes than gnomes outside doing a LITTLE more work than usual?! For fuck's sake, get your priorities straight! They'll live! He might not!”
“Well, he's an Absolutist, though,” Karlach pointed out. “and they're innocent.”
“We would be the same if it wasn't for our Dream protection,” Miya snapped back. “you don't know how he joined. You could be the one in the rubble and he would standing out here BITCHING about it if the circumstances were even slightly different! What gives you the right to decide who is more-”
She felt a warm hand press on her shoulder from behind, gently squeezing, and the sentence trailed off on its own. A little dejected, she looked to the side, to be met with Wyll's sympathetic face. “Nobody is saying they are MORE important. But even so, no matter what everyone's motives, we still agree on the same course of action - that's what matters here.” He swiftly raised his other hand with a raised finger as Astarion opened his mouth. “He also has the moonlantern with him, so yes, we need to get him out.“
“We aaaare getting him out!” Karlach threw her arms up in frustration. “Pardon me for not getting excited about saving some Absolute bastard!”
“Me and him are the same,” Miya replied quietly.
_________
When they arrived back, the space around the cave-in was cleared of all of their equipment, and only gnomes remained, still working on getting out at least a few pieces of rock - at least until Astarion held up the small sacks of smokepowder up, waving them at Thrinn. Within a minute, they were gone, huddled as far away as physically possible while he stuffed the satchels into cracks in the stones. Miya stepped up close to one of the boulders once again and placed a hand on it. This time, she reached with her mind out intentionally, searching for the presence behind them somewhere. There was a pit of cold dread in her innards, half-expecting that there would be nothing this time- but he met her midway, their worms recognizing each other more readily now.
“Move further away,” she said quickly, thoughts shot like arrows into the dark. “we have smokepowder. Blowing you out soon. Careful.”
“Do it, now,” he replied, equally swift. A flash of lighting in the dark.
“What are you waiting for?!” one of the slave drivers yelled from afar. “Blast the thing to bits!”
A few minutes later, they stood there with ears popped, and finally able to see through the haze of dust and smoke, Karlach cussing up a storm. With cloak pulled over her nose and mouth, Miya strode forward to finally meet their gentleman in distress face to face.
“Finally,” a haughty, yet incredibly relieved voice came first, before he strode out, looking around the room with watering eyes and a scorched bottom of his robes.
The first thing that struck her was, even under the grime of the cave, how handsome his features were, and she paused to admire for a moment. The sharp features, ash colored skin, bright eyes, and lashes white as bleached bone. He was quite tall, and a cursory look showed a warrior's posture, but yet… such poise.
Focus. Focus.
He cleared his throat, turning to the gnomes. They immediately slunk away from his gaze, terrified, as a dark purple glow burned around his palms. “Worthless slaves! Your incompetence has been my ruin! Nere. Does. Not. FAIL.”
Miya squinted at him. His voice was hoarse and high strung, and underneath the anger, there was a tremor. Barely noticeable, barely there, and not to be seen.
He´d been terrified. And he was channeling that into utter fury to not show it - to not show weakness.
Quick as a darting snake, Miya grabbed onto his arm firmly from the side, pushing it low. When his incredulous, pissed off gaze met hers, she stared at him.
“How dare you stop a True Soul from punishing the failure of his servants?” He choked out.
In response, she wordlessly pointed towards Karlach, maintaining eye contact. “I am afraid that while you were trapped, these servants have exchanged hands. They are no longer your responsibility to punish, and…”
In the few seconds it took her to say it, the entire group had ran for their lives to stand behind the tiefling, who was glaring daggers at him, her arms crossed, and a dangerously hot glow in her chest. “Well. You should not exert yourself either way with such frivolous things.”
There was a drawn out moment of tense silence. The duergar watching with curiosity, waiting. Karlach was clearly ready to draw her axe if needed. The gnomes´ eyes darting between all of the parties, but now with dawning hope.
“... hmph. You can be assured, I am perfectly capable of still inflicting a lot of damage.”
“No doubt about it.”
The drow slowly lowered his arms, letting the magic fizzle out. Relief washed over her. Then glanced towards Thrinn. “Sold them, yet The Absolute demands that I cull them.”
“You can try, big boy,” Karlach grinned dangerously.
“You care for the weak, True Soul. Most curious.”
“Of course I care. I can´t let these gnomes suffer, you bastard.”
Miya glanced at her while still clutching onto Nere´s arm, trying to convey through facial expression alone, Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up!
“Speaking like that is most unwise when you stand alone,” he very nearly purred. He was glad for an opportunity to focus on a fight, something, anything, to distract from the dread still gripping him from the harrowing experience. A quite normal reaction, for someone of his background.
“Who says I stand alone?”
“Let´s not be hasty,” Gale joined in, palms upright, but took a few steps away from the brewing fight. “we have all had a long day. Why don´t we uh, go rest up, and see if we still feel like fighting in the morning? Or, whatever passes for morning down here…”
“Oh, procrastinating ANOTHER DAY for paying, huh?” a new voice joined in, a near growl. Both the drow looked his way in confusion. Thrinn looked like she´d rather be elsewhere as one of the duergar mercenaries stepped up, scowling.
“Pardon the intrusion, True Soul. Not everyone is dedicated to the Absolute, some are only here for the coin.”
“Yes, clearly,” Nere said dryly. “and how worth they were, weren´t they? Cleared out a few skeletons, and then lazed about. This entire operation would have gone much more smoothly WITHOUT them!”
“Not our problem if ya like us or not,” the duergar grinned. “we can leave immediately if you don´t want us here. Pay up and we´re leavin´. You owe my and my crew a tenday´s worth.”
“You sniveling little RAT-”
Miya clutched his arm for dear life, keeping him in place. “Fuck it. How much?”
“Well, the way we counted… everything he´s got stashed will MAYBE cover it. 2000 or leave it.”
“YOU ARE OUT OF YOUR MIND! You did NOTHING for days! Over my dead body-”
“500,” Miya shot back, expressionless.
“Very funny. Fine, 1900.”
“600.”
“1200.”
Miya wordlessly tossed a bag of coins to the man. “Leave.”
The duergar stared at her, then the bag, and back at her. He weighed it in his hand for a second. “... well then. Would you look at how reasonable we can be. And it didn´t even have to hurt.” Flashing a nasty grin, he beckoned towards the men behind him, and turned to leave.
Out the corner of her eye, Miya saw their rogue, sitting comfortably in a shadow of the metal construction on the other side of the room, and he cocked an eyebrow quizzically. In response, she gave him a wink. He smirked.
His eyes darting between then, Nere observed their little signal with a calculating look in his eye, and slowly, very slowly let his shoulders and arm relax. He looked towards the remaining duergar. The sergeant stood at attention. “... Thrinn, we resume the exploration tomorrow. As for these vermin…” He looked towards the gnomes, leaving just enough of a pause. A purposeful opening.
“True Soul,” Miya tapped his arm. “do you personally kill every rat that gnaws on your shoe? Do you rage at every lizard on your wall? It has been a long day. Leave them to her.”
A further burning feeling of disapproval. Gods above, Karlach, just don´t fucking say anything, please. Once. Just once in your life. We can avoid a fight, PLEASE. This time, the thought itself carried over, tadpole to tadpole, and just as the tiefling opened her mouth, she let it fall closed, and stopped to think. She slowly nodded, and then shrugged. “... I mean, yeah. Yeah. They are. I think I´ll just get ´em out of your sight, actually.”
Nere nodded curtly. That was as good of a confirmation as they were going to get.
The tension slowly dissipated as he sighed, visibly exhausted, and untangled his arm. Gale plopped down onto a flat rock in relief, while the gnomes gave a hoot, high fives, and hugs as Karlach shooed them down towards the waygate. “This was meant to be a simple operation. I arrive, those pack animals clear the debris, and I walk into the temple… Instead, I've been beset by incompetence, treachery, and now THIS. The Absolute's business remains unfinished-”
Miya pat his back, her hand fully sinking into the fur on his shoulders, but it still knocked his air out. “How about you come to our camp for dinner?”
_________
From the sidelines and below, with no small amount of suspicion, the rest of the party threw glances at the hidden enclave of a spot above their camp, where in privacy, food and drink were spread about on a flat rock, surrounded by the blue and deep orange light of mushrooms. One stalk of nightlight in particular cast its glow almost right onto their makeshift table and lit up Nere's face as he hungrily downed an almost entire bottle of wine by himself. Miya sat opposite with her elbows propped up on the rock, admiring the view. With the immediate threat of danger far off now, and concern for his health laid to rest, a familiar pang of heat and longing resonated in her stomach, now looking at her kin.
They'd been on the road for a while now, and ever since getting snatched up by the nautiloid weeks ago, they'd had practically no rest - and no relief, really. Their simple tents did not allow for much privacy when it came to sound, and she did not dare venture out too far on her own for the everpresent dangers of gnolls and goblins, and then that damnable bulette when back home underground.
And her companions were not someone to go to. Human, human, tiefling, half-elf (eugh!). Lae’zel sparked her interest, but the gith was not interested.
When she first met the vampire, there was attraction - but that very quickly died when she discovered just how similar he was to her own dear brother, and now the mere thought of being intimate in any way (save allowing him to feed) made her shudder in disgust. The large druid tagging along was far too invested in his mission to consider anything - yet. And very nearly all other drow they'd seen… were already dead. Burned in the sun, left without a second thought. Rotting in the myconid colony. Shattered bones under a cliff with illusory funghi. Utterly mad out among hook horrors.
The thought of the man in Nettie's lab still made her stomach twist into knots, even though the halfling had assured her it was NOT what it looked like.
Cleaned up, cleansed of poison and slightly rested, the male's good looks shone better, and the more relaxed expression made for an almost ethereal sight, setting the slicked back white hair alight and making his long fingers cast shadows like scuttering spiders. Beautiful.
He'd be a prize to be won, were he still at home, with matriarchs tearing each other's throats out to get at him, to catch his face in between their thighs.
At least until he opened his mouth.
“None of this was my fault,” he grumbled. “I am SURE the General will understand, because YOU will tell him.”
This is fucking Minthara all over again.
Miya rubbed her temples, feeling a throbbing headache coming on with every brain-controlled word he spilled. Nere pointed at her. “I can't go. I need you to deliver a message to him. Tell the General that I did what I could, but that the route through Grymforge is impassable.“
“Nere, I am not going to go pass along word your failures, and certainly not for anyone of the Absolute.”
“This is not a failure,” he immediately said defensively, setting his cup down. “it's only a setback. I have been entrusted with a sacred mission - I cannot fail.”
“Sacred mission?” She stood up, planting her hands onto the table to loom over him, scowling. “When was the last time you thought of anything but the mission? Ate? Slept? Talked… “ Even upon saying it, it dawned upon her that the words spilling forth weren't about him; but it was as if a dam broke and the river was now unstoppable. “been in the company of an equal? Enjoyed yourself?”
At that, she reached forward with one arm and tangled her fingers into the front of his robes. Nere's eyes flicked down to her hand, suspicious, then back up. But whatever he saw in her face, it made him stay put, not protesting.
“Being one of the Absolute's chosen few, hearing her voice, IS bliss by itself,” he murmured. ”the peace. The sureness of your life's trajectory. Her embrace of your mind. The enjoyment of being so close to a higher being- I would… “ His voice caught as, without realizing it, her fingers traveled up to sneak under the cloth, over the bare skin of his neck. Damp with sweat. “think… you would also know. Has She not graced you with her presence like so?”
“You would think so, wouldn't you?” Miya murmured, tracing her hand over his pulse. It jumped faster under her fingertips, like the beating wings of a trapped insect in a web. It was a wonder he hasn't run yet, or didn't spring up in outrage to start a fight. But he just stared, transfixed. “But have you heard her voice today at all? Not so ever present, is it?”
Nere's expression darkened. “The Absolute should be demanding I take your head for insolence like that, but I… “ He trailed off, blinking in confusion. “I really… cannot hear her voice. Wha- what's going on? What have you done?”
She smiled, wide like a cat that just found cream, and stood. The male looked startled, but didn't flinch away when she stood and slowly walked over. In a soft, soothing voice, she cooed, “When you were trapped in the cave… whose voice did you hear, reaching out to you?”
“Yours, of course.”
Miya sat herself on the edge of the table, and began carefully pushing away the plate, cup, and bottle that was previously set in front of him, enough to make space for herself and then some. “When you were warned about the explosives, whose voice did you hear?”
“... you. Again. I don't see how that is-”
“Do you still hear me now?”
With a little effort, she reached out for the connection again, and this time it was near instant. Senses melded, their respective tadpoles eagerly sharing their experiences as naturally as breathing. She saw through his eyes, and felt the apprehension and curiosity and dread at his own desire as she watched her own form seat herself comfortably on the table in front of him, skirt hiked up slightly, like an offering on an altar.
“Can you still hear me?” Miya asked, smiling and not saying a word but carrying the words over perfectly anyway. “I wonder, what has more importance in this moment, when you hear me, but not the Absolute?”
And he would feel in turn the dark, cold warning pressing on the back of her mind, her spine, the distant anger of a far different god who was all too aware what she was about to do, and the heat and trembling excitement in the pit of her stomach that was overshadowing it anyway, spurring her onwards recklessly.
“Not tempted to stray?” She asked, propping one leg up on his shoulder. “Not even a little, to return back to your old way of life?”
There was a stab of alarm through their connection, and he quickly withdrew.
“... you speak… you FEEL like a heretic-!”
Swift as a darting snake, she threw her other leg up, and locked around his neck. The momentum of the movement threw them both forward, and he scrambled for purchase, but in the brief time was too caught off guard to gain a hold on his seat. She pulled, yanking him off and lower, sliding with him down until he was forced to prop himself up on his knees, and she could feel the warmth of the seat where he was previously.
Fingers dug into her thighs, almost, almost on the verge of fighting, of shoving her off, until she shifted, and felt his nose press against her crotch. His grip tightened, and she could feel his breath coming in short bursts, tickling. She sighed and dug her fingers into his hair, pushing him towards her.
“You can escape if you really try,” Miya purred, rolling her hips enough to brush against him. “but… you won't, will you? You don't need a god. This is what you need.”
She could feel a vibration, and for a moment jolted until a warm, wet sensation joined it, sliding over her folds before dipping in, equally thirsty as he was for the wine. He had moaned.
Miya burst into laughter that immediately melted into a shaky moan of her own as he started licking, and tightened her legs around him. Oh yes, the guess was right. Others had thought about it before and he had definitely done this before- and even with great enthusiasm, as though either it was his favorite meal or his life depended on it. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps that sting of fear was what made it delectable.
“Oh- ohh, yes- That is- ngh- that's perfect- good boy-!!”
Coherent thoughts very quickly became impossible as he sucked, adjusting his grip to pull her thighs apart. Miya clutched his hair and the table with her other hand for dear life as suddenly her soul seemed to briefly leave her body, long built up tension suddenly exploding into climax, but he kept going, feasting. She threw her head back, whimpering, again tightening her legs - but he was much stronger than he seemed and kept them in place, leaving them only flexing in vain against his palms, too much, too soon.
“As if y-you were- ma-made for this!” She said, nearly crying in pleasure, and there was a dark storm cloud from beyond in the shape of a mask screeching at her in rage at her blasphemy and the dread and delight mixed made thought dissolve into nothing, melted into a peak of white hot pleasure.
Somewhere far away, she felt Lolth laughing.
_____________
She had left him sleeping back at camp, utterly spent, yet satisfied, and most importantly - protected, while she stumbled her way back towards the Sharran ruins, still with sweat dried on her back and some seed leftover in various places, and then knelt on the ground, bare knees intentionally scraped against harsh stone.
"I beg your forgiveness for my tresspass…" Her forehead touched the marble, shame now coloring every single moment. “I didn't… plan on it… I didn't mean to… I gave into temptation. But it… “ She took a shaky breath.
“But it worked, didn't it? And he, he is… freed.”
The shadows didn't close in and bite, and she bent down lower and cried in relief.