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The only place in the whole of the area for their group to camp unbothered by goblins, tieflings, and druids was ironically right smack dab in the middle of a hag’s territory. A swamp right on the coast, dripping with foul fae magic that had permeated so deeply due to her prolonged presence that Amara doubted that purging the evil of the place would cause any goodness to return. It would be better for the ocean to swallow the place whole than to leave it to blight the earth.
She felt like that about most places though.
Amara would have willingly walked into the ocean and let it claim her, yet something stayed her feet, kneeling in the muck of the destroyed shoreline. As a devoted disciple of the Wavemother, the ocean was all she could think about in the best of times. Yet the turn of events that led to the tadpole ensconced in her head meant she doubted the Wavemother would accept her in the safety of the ocean.
That–and the Wavemother had told her to sit her ass right on the shore and finish her journey. So. That’s what she was doing.
Sort of.
A figure took a seat next to her. Amara didn’t have to look to know it was her sister, Serana.
Her presence was as familiar to her as the ocean, and the tadpole in her sister’s head was constantly chattering at her own. She’d seen Serana’s approach in a strange double vision, both seeing herself sitting on the shore in her tadpole’s mind and also seeing the ocean from her own eyes. She supposed she was one of the lucky few to have seen herself in the eyes of another.
Dark hair, dark eyes, sun tanned skin, though the last feature was new. She’d never been one to be outside for long, preferring her walks about the wavemother temple to be at dawn or dusk, as regular as the tides. Serana’s eyes took in her sister’s slightly turned face, thinking idly about how Amara’s face paint was slightly uneven, but that was okay because it offset the unevenness of her brows, a thought that made Amara bristle. How was she to know her sister’s razor was that sharp? Hers in the temple had never been, but apparently the paladin-girl never left a blade to rot and Amara was to pay the price for it.
“Oh calm yourself, they’re growing back.” Serana rolled her eyes.
Amara wrinkled her nose. “Well, if you're going to comment on it every time you look at me, I’m going to be self conscious.”
“If I knew how to hide my thoughts from this tadpole, I would have by now. Unfortunately, we must both suffer from its inability to decipher between things to say and things to keep in my brain.” Serana flipped out a short handed dagger and stabbed the ground, churning up the mud as if she intended to make a mud pie.
Amara sighed deeply.
Serana copied her.
“This shit sucks.” Serana said at long last.
“You mean the civil war happening right in our very midst?”
“Oh, and the fact that if we don’t stick our nose into it nothing is going to get done AND no one is going to help us.”
“Such is the price for information, I suppose.” Amara said dryly. The waves far out beyond the stillness of the ponded shoreline cause a wave to push right up to the sisters kneeling in the mud. Amara stretched out her hand to touch it with her fingertips, wrinkling her nose at the foul taste that filled her mouth. She could taste the evil in the water. Yuck.
“Do you think Gale is single?” Serana asked suddenly.
Amara turned her head slightly side-eying her sister with intensity. “Are you fucking for real?” She couldn’t stop the smile from breaking out on her face. “If he wasn’t single, I’m sure he is now. The moon eyes he gives you is evidence enough.”
Serana drew a little heart in the sand with her blade. G+S 4 eva.
Amara felt her eyes roll into the back of her head. Wavemother have mercy on her. Allow me to take my place as foam on your shore right this instance.
The water visibly receded from her touch, a loud and very clear “No.” if she’d ever heard one.
“I can’t help it. It’s this damn tadpole. Everytime I look at him I feel like I’m going through that…that… what did he call it? Ceremorphosis? Is that right? A fever wracks my body– I can barely see straight–”
“I thought you resembled an animal in heat rather than an illithid.”
Serana tossed a handful of wet sand in her direction. “Shut up. I do not.”
“Ask anyone in the camp, I’m sure they’d say the same.”
Serana bared her teeth in her direction, a sign of annoyance rather than real anger. “They would not! I’ve been very discrete–”
Amara burst out laughing, hardly listening to her sister’s furious insistence. It was the kind of belly aching laugh, born of watching someone insist upon their innocence despite the very obvious discrepancy.
“Is that what you call it? Laying in his tent all night only to sneak back into your own bedroll in the morning?”
Serana huffed a scream of frustration, or perhaps mortification, and climbed to her feet. “ How dare you!”
“Did you think me deaf and blind?”
“Shut up, I do not!!!”
Amara only gifted her a silent, judgemental side-eye.
There was a tense silence, before Serana started to laugh. “I’m so glad you know because I have so much to tell you then. Gale? That man–”
“Ah!” Amara held up her hand, climbing to her own feet, “save it. Your silly little tadpole affair is not my business. It’s bad enough I already get so much beamed straight into my brain. You’ve got me half in love with him myself and I can’t stand him all that much.”
Serana laughed some more, pleased with the news only in a way a little sister would enjoy being gifted a means of annoying someone they love.
Amara dusted off the bottom of her apron, smiling at the ocean, and her sister, before picking up the abandoned basket that she should have been using to find herbs and the likes for her potions. They needed quite a few supplies before they were even going to be able to attempt to fight a whole army of goblins.
Serana did the same.
While normally they were both dressed for battle at all times, while they were out foraging, they donned more simple attire much more suited to the task. A pinafore apron over a soft linen skirt and a long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up over their elbows.
The only difference was that Serana was barefoot, mud caked up over her ankles while Amara could only stand being barefoot in the ocean.
“Did you find any balsam yet?” Amara asked, reaching across to poke directly into her sister’s basket.
“No, but I didn’t look all that much. I was daydreaming of Gale and that silly little beard of his. It’s growing so ragged and I wonder if he’ll let me tend to it…”
Amara gagged visibly. “You daydream of that? What’s next? Plucking his nose hairs? His unibrow? Spare me from those daydreams, please. I have no desire to get into the specifics of which hair needs to be pulled and when.”
Serana wrinkled her nose. “I told you it was awful. I can hardly think of anything else.”
“Clearly.”
Serana shoved her arm, and Amara stumbled backwards, only a little, but she laughed. It was easier to laugh about their lives being turned upside down because of these tadpoles than it was to spend all their time fretting about it.
Amara and Serana departed into the swamps, leaving the shores of the Sword Coast behind them. They would need salts… balsam if they could, anything to make greater healing potions to be used or thrown on the fly… rogue’s morsel was more likely though, given its tendency to grow in wet soils. Maybe they could buy what they needed.. But no.. potions were so expensive. Maybe Astarion would consent to stealing a few from the druid enclave..
These thoughts consumed her, stepping across stones, departing deep into the wilds of the swamp, avoiding getting her shoes wet as much as possible. Serana’s thoughts were steadily keeping in the same area, out of eyesight but never out of reach of their tadpoles. It was better for them, allowing them to scavenge more area between the two of them. Baskets of rotted apples, poisoned by Auntie Ethel dotted the land, and idly Amara wondered if she could reverse engineer an antidote, or keep the apples to turn into a weapon coating..
A splash into water stopped Amara, freezing her still like a rabbit hearing a predator coming their way. Except, if sneak was this predator’s motive, it surely would never catch a thing.
The creature stumbled through the water, sloshing through the knee deep slog like it was nothing. It certainly wasn’t the redcaps she’d seen wandering the forest, baaing as if they were sheep.
She straightened her back, pressed herself closer to her tree. The water shifted around her, gentle waves starting to form as if sensing her fear. They would undoubtedly become monstrous waves if she let it go on too long.
However, the creature appeared soon enough. It would have been impossible to miss him actually. He was massive.
A man. Or, maybe half giant given the sheer height and breadth of him. Amara felt her jaw drop.
Wavemother preserve her. A singular thigh of that man alone was thicker than her. She blinked, her mouth suddenly dry. Big man. Big big man. Would he fit… Amara stopped that thought in her tracks, blushing deeply.
The hulking beast of a man had yet to see her, and she intended to keep it that way, sensing trouble for her if she let him catch sight of her. Not the sort that would end up in death, but the sort of trouble a woman and a man might end up in. She wanted to avoid that, the Wavemother would hardly approve of this man (though Amara sincerely doubt the Wavemother would hold it against her, by the Gods he was so climbable the Wavermother might agree to send her waves against him too).
Serana’s thoughts immediately chimed with alarm. A wordless searching, wondering, rushing to Amara’s side. Where are you! What’s going on?? Serana’s thoughts flooded into Amara’s brain– a spell, she’s been charmed– a potion–that hag!
Amara wordlessly opened her own brain, allowing the visage of the man before her to send down their tadpole link to her sister. I would willingly allow my own waves to crash upon this cliff, would the Wavemother allow it.
Serana’s thoughts ceased, the line of connection between them going empty. Then, only a single Shout if you need help, I’ll be over here, minding my own business, trying not to listen in.
The link between them went silent again, Serana doing her best at giving her privacy as if she truly expected the outcome of her meeting a man in the swamps to end any other way.
Which, since the Wavemother wasn’t saying no….
Amara smoothed back her hair, ripping off her bandana holding back her dark wild curls, and tightened the strings of her pinafore, trying to make her bosom look as alluring as possible given her present attire. What she wouldn’t have given for some advance notice…
The hulking beast of a man continued past her position, his eyes trained on something else, rather than her own twisted and gnarled tree she hid behind. Ugh. That wouldn’t do.
Amara primly sat on her knees, fluffed her dress around her in the most appealing of ways and then proceeded to sigh very loudly, and begin to hum some tune or another.
The splashing of the water stopped, and a gruff “who goes there?” echoed in the words.
“Oh!” Amara popped up from her spot, peering out from behind her tree, fluttering her lashes at him as if she just noticed him. “A stranger!”
“A damsel? In this place of evil!” He sloshed through the water towards, his gaze set directly upon her. It was then that Amara realized simply that she hadn’t taken into account the distance between them. He was big before, but as he approached, she realized her musings of him being half giant must be true.
He towered over her, well over six of seven feet tall. His leather armor was stitched together in three pieces, no animal big enough to produce one hide to cover the sheer breadth of his chest and shoulders.
“Or perhaps you are the cause of this evil, hmm?” The man asked, half in a question, half not. She saw his hand twitch for a sword literally the size of her, and she hastily pushed back a strand of her hair, readying herself for whatever may come.
“Me? Evil? Hardly. I believe the one you’re searching for goes by the name of Auntie Ethel. This is her land.” Amara supplied hastily.
She backed up as the man continued his approach, awed by the sheer size of him. By the gods she should have stretched first. Would her legs fit around his waist? She would certainly try her best…
The man stuck his face down to her level and peered at her face. She merely blinked at him, for the first time herself allowing her vision to make it past his huge shoulders. She hadn’t even recognized he had a face in her first perusal of him, hell he could have been headless as far as she knew, concerned entirely with his size, stature, and whether she could tempt him enough to come back to camp with her, or at least be gentle enough against a tree.
He was bald, but of his own volition, she could see. The darkness of a faint stubble shadowed his jaw, as if he were due for another shave soon. A large and dark purple tattoo covered half of his bald head, swooping down to cover his right eye. His brow was deep, and shadowed his eyes, but she could see the depth of his smile lines as if he smiled and laughed often.
His eyes were considered brown, but unlike any other brown eyes she’d seen, his held the multitude of yellows and gold, honey and amber, chestnut and the deepest of umber. She blushed unexpectedly, finding his face to be as handsome as the rest of him. A first for her.
Rarely did she gaze upon anyone and find them to be appealing, yet this man? Both face and body could have been crafted by the gods, a perfect example of a hero of yore.
“Yes, I see. A damsel. Do you need rescuing, damsel?” He asked her so seriously, as if her indication of yes or no would change whether he would continue in her company or not.
“I suppose, of a sort.” She responded slowly. She clasped her hands in front of her, rocking back and forth on her heels, and staring up at him prettily through her eyelashes.
“Any evil that needs slaying will be slayed by me!” He nodded his head forcefully. A big hand reached for her and she found herself suddenly upended by the man, thrown over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. She squawked a noise of protest, and blushed deeply when a huge hand settled high against the back of her thighs, holding her in place though she struggled.
“But first, I have something to do, so you’ll have to come with me. Evil shall not touch you while I am here!”
Amara stalled for a moment. Was she being kidnapped by this man? Was she okay with that?
Serana echoed her thoughts questioningly. Amara could see the faint images in Serana’s eyes, the thought of crashing through the swamp to their camp, the sword that she cursed for being out of reach, a shudder of her sister’s oath echoing through the bond with a distinct scent of divinity.
If I’m not back by the morning, bring Karlach with you. This man is huge. Amara supplied. The Wavemother would stop this man if he did anything she didn’t want, and she was a sorceress in her own right. She’d call a comet down on this man if need be.
The needling anxiety from her sister eased with that thought. Yes that was right, Amara was a big girl and could handle herself—and this man’s waist between her legs because by the Wavemother—
Aye Aye captain. Good luck with that, maybe try a different position if you can’t get your legs–
Go away, right now.
Amara laughed, and propped her chin in her hand, satisfied with being carried on his back. He was broad enough that he was comfortable to be strewn across him, the muscle of his shoulders padding into her stomach. She might have been lying flat on her bed if she did not know better.
Besides, even if it was uncomfortable, watching him stride with ease through the terrain was most fascinating.
“Tell me hero, what is your name?” Amara asked.
“I am Minsc of Rasheman! Warrior of great justice!” He proclaimed. He noticeably did not ask her name.
“I’m Amara.” She offered.
He said nothing, only grunting in response.
“So… Rasheman huh?”
Serana barked a laugh down their link. This is embarrassing to watch. Just ask him to take his pants off.
Amara winced. Yeah, she didn’t know exactly how this was supposed to go, but her brain envisioned something… sexier. What part of “go away” aren’t you understanding?
His path took them back to the shoreline. She could hear the crashing of the waves, and when he turned to the East, walking along the dissipated and pockmarked shoreline, she could see the ocean positively boiling, crashing again and again against an invisible barrier, held back only by some unknown factor.
If at any moment Amara did not wish this man’s advances, it was clear he’d be swept into the sea. A comforting thought.
Minsc did not speak to her again, nor did his hand move from the back of her thighs holding her in place until he reached his destination. Then he knelt, and her feet found stability against the ground, and she was free of him. Except neither of them had realized she’d gone numb from the waist down, not in a pleasant way, and she ended up toppling right back into his chest.
“Ah!” Amara gripped the leather straps, actually fearing she’d tumble straight to the ground, not feeling at all in her feet, knees or legs. Except of course, the big man used two hands, and held her by her arms. With him standing straight up, and holding her, her feet dangled off the ground. It was a little foolish, truly, the fact he was large enough to treat her like a child.
“You can no longer walk! What has this evil done to you!” Minsc sounded outraged, his face fuming against this unknown evil that was in fact, just him being too big.
“I’ll be alright in a few minutes.” Amara offered with a smile. “It’s an affliction that will wear off.”
He seemed appeased with that. And they stood there. Him holding her aloft without even breaking a sweat. Amara thought he’d have put her down to recover, but he truly seemed like he intended to hold her the entire time.
“Uh.. I think I would recover best upon the ground.” She said at last.
Minsc nodded seriously. “I promise upon my life this Evil shall be purged from this land. You shall suffer no more.”
“Thanks.” Amara said a little helplessly.
Minsc plunked her back on the ground. And finding her weight to be holding in her legs, released her from his hold, as if he were balancing her upon a tower of rocks. “But first, Minsc must do this job. There are beasts here that need purging. Do not move, it will be only a minute.”
And then Minsc retreated from her.
They were at the long end of the coast, and on two sides the ocean beat against the shore. An island stood a little ways off, the stump of a once great tree its sole feature. Minsc did not even hesitate at the swamp water, striding through it as if he cared little for traps of underwater currents, or truly anything. The water only reached his waist as he thundered through it with little problem and then he was marching up to the tree stump.
Amara did not listen, of course, to his cajoling to stay where she was. She followed after him, her steps light across the top of the water. She was curious about this…job he spoke of.
Which actually turned into a battle against mud mephits and wood woads. She was content to sit and watch, truly not fearing for his life, given his size. She was right. His boots stomped into the mud mephits, hardly sparing them a glance as they burst from sheer pressure of his weight.
Minsc only truly gave attention to the wood woads, his giant Amara-long sword cleaving through the air as if he wielded a woodcutter’s axe. His rampage was wholly from this concept of evil that only he knew.
And why should she deny herself a show? He was perfectly capable. She was more interested in watching the way his weight shifted between his feet, the way his arms rippled with strength with each devastating slice through the air. He was practiced, and sure. And soon the battle was over. He was covered in mud, his face splashed with it, and his boots squelched unappealingly through the mess.
“You should not have followed. This is dangerous for a maiden fair,” he asserted gruffly. He stared down at her seated form with such mindless adrenaline in his eyes, she felt her own blood warm in response.
Amara shrugged, smiling up at him. “Didn’t you promise my safety some minutes ago? I am not worried.”
He blinked at her, then smiled brightly, if a little frenzied. “You speak truth! None but goodness shall be spared from Minsc’s sword!” She felt he would have patted her on the back if she’d been standing.
“Are you hurt?” She asked him.
It took a long while for her words to process, as if the great beast of a man before her had never been hurt before in his life, that the mere thought was something that had never crossed his mind.
Then, wordlessly he held forth his hand, shame upon his face. “I had thought I had concealed my pain from you, but you are mighty perceptive.”
Amara, concerned that he’d sustained an injury that she’d somehow missed in her scrutiny of the battle, stood and took his hand, peering into his palm for what it was that hurt him.
She saw nothing. She double checked.
“Uh, Minsc.. Where..?”
His face was positively miserable, red with embarrassment and shame as he pointed out the faint red mark upon his thumb. A splinter.
Amara concealed her smile, doing her best not to make the giant man feel worse about his battle “injury” and instead took that giant hand in her own, twisting it to catch the fading sunlight so she could see better. Her nails, though trimmed, were still long enough to prod at the splinter and set it free from the calluses of his giant thumb.
“There. Is that better?” She cooed at the big man. He looked at his thumb, and shook his head.
“It still hurts.” He insisted.
Amara sighed with sympathy. “Well, there’s no other option. We’ll have to amputate. The whole hand.”
Minsc’s face dropped, as if she spoke his worst fears. He looked as if he really believed her. “Really, is there nothing to be done to save it?”
Feeling guilty, for some reason, she hemmed and hawed, trying to decide if she’d tell him she was teasing or not before she decided to continue along in her little charade.
“I suppose there is one thing I could try. But you’ll have to be very brave.” She offered.
Minsc scoffed, as if she had told him something impossible, as if there was a time when he wasn’t brave. “Minsc is the hardiest of warriors!” He assured her seriously.
Amara smiled. What a silly man. She was beginning to enjoy leading him along, knowing he’d follow her anywhere, simply because he had no concept of a damsel being anything but truthful and good. “Well, I shall kiss it better then.” And so she did, taking his hand and pressing a chaste kiss to the pad of his thumb where the offending sliver had been removed. “There. All better?”
Minsc stared at her in wonder. His face completely awed as if she’d just performed some strange and dangerous magic, which she had certainly not done. “You are a witch! An enchantress!” He grasped hold of her own hand, his enveloping hers.
“I prefer the term sorceress.” Amara offered.
He nodded sagely. “I have known many mages, but none who could cure wounds with a kiss.”
Amara raised her eyebrows at him, before smiling and nodding her head. If he wanted to think of it that way, who was she to stop him?
“Have you slayed your evil then?” She asked him. His eyes darkened for a moment before he nodded. His gaze returned to the tree stump, one of his hands dropping to a pouch at his waist.
“Yes, but I’ve a message to leave here.” He departed for a moment, walking to a niche in the decaying wood of the tree stump that stretched well over his head. He leaned against it, his arm shoving deep into the recess with a scrap of paper. When he returned to her side, he seemed restless, like something was calling him away again, but he could not place his finger on what it was.
“Minsc must go. Will you come with him?” He asked suddenly. His eyes, which had been searching the swamp behind her, cut to her face suddenly, an alarming intensity behind them. Her tadpole stirred uncomfortably in her skull.
“I have a family waiting for me. You’ll have to go without me.” She finally said. “Or, you could stay with me. There’s room for you at my camp.” in my bed, even.
Minsc shook his head. “No, this evil… I must go. It will not wait, and it must be cleansed.”
Amara studied his face. She did not think he could name the evil, even if she asked him. Whatever it was that drew him away, it was not something he could place.
“May I grant you a boon then?” She offered. “Something to take with you, to remind you of me?”
Minsc blinked at her, his finger rubbing at his thumb where she kissed. Then he nodded.
“You’ll have to kneel, Minsc. You’re quite tall and I cannot reach you from here.” Amara patted his chest, with a smile. The big man complied, dropping to one knee before her. He was so tall, that put him in line with her sternum, though his eyes never dropped from her own.
Amara cupped his cheeks in her hand, stepped into the embrace of his body heat and bent to kiss him sweetly on the lips.
She’d intended it to be sweet, chaste even, seeing that he must have little experience with women flirting with him. And so the first one was just that. She pulled away, staring at his mouth for a moment more before meeting his eyes, which had darkened considerably in the few moments she’d kissed him.
The next few after that were decidedly anything but chaste and sweet. He was a big man with big hands, and he had no qualms about using a singular one to hold her to his chest, and another to destroy the curls on her head. He crushed her to him. Holding her mouth firmly against his own while he seemingly contemplated whether he was satisfied with just licking the seam of her lips, his choice became clear that he was not satisfied and wanted in her mouth.
She granted him access of course. Inwardly she crowed with delight, somehow getting her wish, even though by that point she’d given up on it. It was not in her nature to ask outright for what she wanted, but it seems he was.
The hand on her head massaged her curls, while he amused himself with kissing her again and again, stroking her tongue with his own. The hand against the flat of her back pulled at her insistently, as if he wanted her to crawl inside his skin with him, because surely there was no space between them, save for what little was taken up by their clothes.
He continued to kneel on one knee for her, kissing her with such wild abandon, until she realized she was just standing there dumbly, and had yet to get handfuls of what she had been waiting to touch this whole time.
Amara’s hands dropped from his cheeks, and she curled into his embrace, letting her fingers glide down his bare neck, before she squeezed his shoulder in her small hands, then groped the bare flesh of his giant arms. He grunted with her touches, though it was a wonder he felt anything at all, give their size difference.
The hand in her hair dropped to her skirts. He tugged at them, rubbing the cloth of her pinafore between thumb and forefinger before he simply decided to wrap her up in his arms, and stand, supporting her whole weight in his arms.
She squeaked into his mouth, lunging to wrap her arms around his neck before she toppled backwards.
“You must come with me.” He murmured against her mouth. He bit her bottom lip gently, as if that would convey his seriousness.
“Yes, somewhere else, to be laid down here would be very messy.” Amara agreed, before she returned the favor, choosing to suck on his bottom lip, and peer up at him from under her eyelashes. The shock on his face was worth it, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated. She did not think he had a single thought behind those empty eyes of his.
He did not move, though she could see him wanting to. But where? The sheer force of thought, want, and will, was causing smoke to billow from his ears. Too many thoughts were not good for this man, it seemed.
Amara gently turned his attention to the dry parts of the island. “There, perhaps?”
He went to where she pointed, deposited her on the ground, letting her stand on her own two feet while he loomed over her. His brain was still not working, she could tell because he was staring at her, willing her to speak again, tell him what to do. Head empty.
His eyes were focused on her mouth again.
“If you want a kiss, perhaps you ought to sit. I cannot reach you from here.” Amara pointed out. He went right to his knees, obediently, his hands reaching for her skirts, using them to pull her to him, though she came willingly to him, willingly let his hands pull her close so he could get another kiss as he so desired.
Her hands pushing his shoulders, dropped him entirely onto the ground, seated upright. He only watched with interest as she hiked up her skirts to straddle that monstrous waist, the stretch just as she imagined. She’d never be able to hold him as tightly as she wanted between her thighs, but it would just have to do.
Minsc’s hands followed the exposed skin happily, his huge palms grasping the fat of her thighs, kneading, kneading and tugging her more firmly to him, endlessly. He groaned happily as she kissed him, her short blunt nails scratching over his bald scalp while he shivered with pleasure.
“An enchantress.” Minsc said, burying his face into her neck, breathing her deeply.
“A sorceress.” She corrected.
He pulled away suddenly, staring at her, studying her face. “Have you spelled me?”
Amara smiled, scratching over his scalp with her nails again. His mouth dropped open slightly, his eyes losing their focus. He really liked that, she decided. She could feel his whole body jolt with the pleasure of it. “Not even a small one.” she said truthfully.
Minsc must not have cared whether she had actually put one on him or not.
“Would you take this armor off if I asked?” Amara questioned. She was asking because he’d gone from rubbing her legs to full on kneading her ass in one huge hand and gripping her waist, dragging her hips against the very obvious bulge in his pants.
Minsc blinked at her dumbly. Then he nodded. He moved to unseat her, to follow her orders obediently, but she stopped him.
“Maybe just your pants then.” Amara said, feeling quite flustered with the constant stimulation of his hands tugging and feeling her body as if he’d devour her with his hands alone, and the hungry and rather frantic dry humping they’d fallen into.
Minsc nodded dumbly, reaching between them, to yank his armor out of the way, to untie his breeches and belt just enough to drag his cock out its confines.
Amara’s mouth dropped open. Wavemother preserve her. Why was her mouth watering?
As a general rule, Amara did not find cocks pretty. They were tools. But Minsc’s… the fat purple head was weeping something awful, and the sheer size of it… she could practically see it heave with every beat of his heart. No wonder he appeared so brainless, all the blood in his body must have been pounding through that thing. Gods she wanted to taste it.
She stroked it first though, her fingers smoothing over the very angry bulbous head. Minsc shuddered underneath her, and the ripple of his body underneath her nearly unseated her. He made a noise like a wounded animal, half growl half whine. His hand closed around hers, guiding her to grip the entirety of him, to stroke the soft velvet skin over the thick rod of steel underneath.
“You have, this is a spell, you are a witch.” Minsc shook his head at her. Though it appeared he did not care at all, jerking and attempting to fuck the hold of her hand on his cock.
Amara probably could have watched him finish himself. It was enthralling, this big giant man undone by her touch alone. He would not relinquish the hand he’d trapped to that flaming flesh between them, and she watched stupefied as they smeared his length with his own precum, while he jerked and heaved deep breaths at the sensation.
When she tugged her hand gently against his hold, only then did he relinquish it with a wounded whine, his brows furrowing at her, his mouth unable to ask her why she’d stopped. She rose only slightly, just to tug her under garments off one leg, then repositioned herself, flesh against flesh.
Minsc dropped flat to his back, eyes wide, mouth open as if she’d actually put his cock in her. He stopped speaking in Commontongue then. Anything he said, she could not understand a single word.
Both of his hands grabbed hold of her waist, guiding her to rub her wetness up and down that huge length of his. Amara panted, gasping every time the tip of his cock touched either her clit or her weeping opening. Her hands grasped at his chest, scratching at his leather armor , looking for a hand hold.
“My Gods, Minsc.” She whined at him. He paused at her opening, the fat tip throbbing and throbbing . He stared at her, eyes imploring.
It took her a second to catch on, realizing he was waiting for permission. She shook her head.
“You’re too big, you’ll have to start with your fingers, please–”
He didn’t even blink, sitting up, before allowing her to drop onto her back gently, while he loomed over her on one arm.
He kissed her then, his whole body wrapped around her, his tongue in her mouth, his giant hands rubbing furiously at her wetness, before he did as she said and sunk a finger into her.
Her back arched. This man was THICK in the finger, just one felt like any other partner she’d been with. Minsc groaned into her mouth, before he dropped to kissing her neck, biting and gumming her flesh in his mouth while he pet her insides with a finger, exploring her until she tugged at his armor begging for another finger.
He followed without restraint, growing frantic with his finger fucking, stretching her between two fingers, petting that spot inside her until she nearly bent backwards with the force of an orgasm she’d not been anticipating. She panted and scratched at the armor on his back, her body instinctively trying to suck and milk the fingers still sliding in and out of her.
He cooed something foreign against her skin dropping his weight further into her as if he physically could not bear any distance between them.
She thought he’d finger fuck her right into another orgasm, when his thumb started petting her clit back and forth, teasing her softly, as if he could not trust himself to be anything but gentle with her.
She shook through her own aftershocks until it started to ache. Amara reached between them, grasping his wrist to stop his movements.
“Now. Please.” She gasped to the air above them. Minsc had moved from her neck to kissing and nuzzling the cut of her shirt, sucking marks into her cleavage like an animal, huffing groans into her skin as if her own pleasure was his.
He paused for a moment, his hand withdrawing from the junction between her thighs only to reappear at his mouth. She could only watch dumbfounded as he licked his own fingers clean, his eyes rolled back in his head in pure enjoyment. She yanked at her pinafore, pulling the sleeves down so she could unbutton her shirt for this man, because by the gods she’d have his mouth on every inch of skin he so wanted while they fucked.
“Minsc,” She ordered. His eyes found hers, dropped to her exposed breasts, and promptly forgot about tasting her on his fingers in favor and resuming his enjoyment of her skin.
But not, of course, before he lined himself up, and started the slow push into her.
Amara recognized only too late that she probably should have told him to use three fingers, because the very entrance of her opening stretched to even take the fat tip of him. Minsc’s mouth stopped moving, and he could only heave hot breaths against her wet breast while he shook through the effort of going slowly.
For his enjoyment or hers, she could not be certain only that it made her crazy with want. Her body suddenly gave way to the tip, and just the first inch of him was nestled inside her.
She could not even think through that agonizing push until he was touching her cervix. She also did not think the man over her was even breathing. Body shaking, arms shaking, he propped himself up on both elbows on either side of her head, and stared down at her face very very seriously.
“This will be very rough.” His accent had thickened considerably. He stared at her with almost an apology on his face.
Amara gulped, feeling that monstrous length nearly to her throat, and positioned her knees a little higher on either side of him, knowing that at this point, she was well and truly getting fucked. “Okay.” she nodded at him, a little breathlessly.
“Good.” He managed, sounding a little strangled, before his head dropped into her neck, one hand grabbing the back of her leg and pressing it up just a little further, while she heard his boots reposition themselves for something with a little more grip.
Oh Wavemother preserve me.
That first thrust was rough. Minsc pulled all the way back, and nailed her with the entirety of his length, hilting her in one hard thrust. She yelped, and he murmured his apologies into her neck, her breasts, anywhere his face pressed while he actually fucked her into the ground. It wouldn’t have been pleasurable—much anyway—if Minsc did not have this peculiar rolling motion of his hips that ground his pelvis into her clit with each thrust. And by the Gods it made her wetter each time he did it, the thrust of his hips, hilting her again and again with a precision that must have stemmed from his sword wielding because by the gods he seemed to know exactly the angle to hold himself in order to have that engorged head pounding against that spot inside her over and over and over until she was sobbing in his arms.
“Minsc!” she dug her nails into his armored shoulders, Her back arching into him with the white how searing of bliss that burned her from the inside out. He murmured his foreign words in her ear, cooing at her. Amara's whole body shook, her cunt clenched around him, desperately trying to stop him from pulling out accompanied with a strange relief when he pushed back in.
He kissed her cheek softly. “Just one more.”
And then he went right back to it, his violent thrusts, chasing her own pleasure again and again, his “one more” turning into two, then three, then numberless while he howled like a beast, finding his own pleasure in hers. There was not a spot on her bare chest he had not gummed, sucked, or bitten into a bruise. His tongue laved over her nipples like he found them sweet.
Each clench of her body, each pleasured tear from her eye, he was relentless in tasting it all, until at last he made that strange wounded noise again, and buried himself fully inside her. His hips jerked without their usual bruising rhythm, his hands and arms wrapped around her so he could bury himself face, and body so deeply into her while he came. She felt it, hot, splashing into her, before the sheer fact that there was no room in her cunt for him and his seed forced it from her body, dripping down her ass in a streaming trail.
She honestly couldn’t have cared less. She was boneless, eviscerated from the inside out, her nerves nothing but little zaps of lightning. She could see nothing but the white of pleasure.
How long they stayed there, wrapped in each other, Amara couldn’t guess, only that the sun was truly gone, and the ocean was calm and gentle around them.
Minsc did not seem inclined to release her from his clutches anytime soon either, pressing her body open, with his weight, keeping the softening rod of steel firmly deep inside her.
She’d have thought him asleep if he was not mindlessly nuzzling her breasts, rubbing his face in the valley of them.
“Minsc, you are crushing me open.” She finally managed, when her words returned.
He nodded, and gave her tender breast another kiss. “If I move, my seed will spill from you.”
Amara blinked dumbly at the sky and the stars above them. Oh right. How could she have not known? Her cunt clenched around him, as if in agreement.
Minsc huffed a satisfied noise against her skin.
The stars had moved quite a bit from their original position before Minsc groaned a noise of complete dissatisfaction and pulled from her. The loss of his body warmth left her shivering, but it wasn’t long before he was back, hoisting her into his arms, pulling her skirts down and around her before he held her as if she were truly a damsel he was protecting.
His cheek rested on the top of her head, holding her securely in his arms and lap. Minsc reclined against the stump of the tree, saying nothing, his breathing deep and even.
“You will come with me, no?” He asked. Amara reclined against his broad chest, hands tucked under her chin, half asleep, but grateful for the chance to close her legs again. That man was wide.
She thought she’d dreamt he’d said that, but he prodded her, asking again with a thick accent as if he were still struggling to remember to speak Commontongue.
Amara contemplated it deeply. Because honestly, she’d be dumb as the hells to leave a man who fucked her like that. She was ruined for any other man. None would be as big, or as…big… as him,
She would have murmured her consent to go with him if it hadn’t been the laughter of her sister ringing in her head.
Girl, don’t you dare run off with the first big dick you’ve had in a while. Serana chastised. Her voice was an unwelcome intrusion.
Go away. I’m basking.
You need to tell him no or he’ll start walking away with you right this instant. I don’t want to have to fight him, but I will if I gotta.
Amara rolled her eyes at the insistence of her sister’s voice. It was horrible that she was even there, but to ruin her whole life by sending off the one man with the biggest dick she’d ever seen? Ugh, her life was over.
Serana barked a laugh down the line. If you ever say anything about me and my pining for Gale, it’s over for you. I will be reminding you of this very moment.
Amara smiled wanly at her sister’s words before she turned her head further into Minsc’s chest. Then her head lolled back so she could look up at him.
“I can’t go with you.” She said simply.
Minsc stared down at her. “Why not.”
“I can’t walk. And if I go with you, we will do nothing but this all the time.”
Minsc nodded sagely, then used his hand to push her head back into his chest because the wavemother knows she couldn’t do it herself. “You are right. You are most.. Distracting. And justice cannot be distracted.”
“Mhm.” Amara confirmed, yawning into her tucked hands and closing her eyes. She perhaps would take a nap right here in his arms before he had to go.
“I will come see you as often as I am able.” Minsc affirmed to himself. “We will perform this lovemaking again, and again, and soon you will be swollen with my seed.”
Amara nodded her head. Yes, that was right. Again and again until she was swollen with his seed.
Serana was laughing in her head again, a cackling howl that would not stop.
She was asleep before she could tell Serana to fuck off.
Minsc was gone long before she had awakened. A thought which would have bothered her if she had not been wrapped in a giant purple cloak that smelled of him, and a very apologetic note, written in the worst handwriting she’d ever seen, telling her he had been called away, but that she was too precious to disturb and that she should not worry that he kissed her many times before he left, taking her “boon” with him.
The boon, she discovered, was her undergarments. Not some metaphorical thing, but truly this man had stolen her underwear.
She’d have been upset if it were anyone else, but she was actually strangely pleased that he’d done so. If she couldn’t be with him, at least her underwear was.
A laugh startled her out of her thoughts.
Serana was there, seated at a makeshift campfire as calm as the breeze. She sat cross legged, her braid draped over her shoulder to keep from trailing along the ground. She whittled something in her hands, trying to amuse herself, though her thoughts stirred continuously towards Gale and the camp they’d left.
“He stole your underwear?” Serana laughed to herself, the thought endlessly funny.
“And my ability to walk.” Amara grumbled fighting her way into a seated position.
“I saw him as he was leaving. I can’t imagine you’ll be riding your horse with fondness anytime soon.” Serana laughed again.
Amara said nothing, squinting at the harsh midmorning light, aching from the waist down, and feeling like her joints were mushy in ways they shouldn’t be. “I’m going to need a healing potion.”
Serana passed one her way, seemingly prepared. “I returned to camp for most of your ah… avid lovemaking. You have quite the tendency to shout through your tadpole.”
Amara’s face dropped. “No, don’t lie to me. Are you serious?”
Serana raised her brows at the coals of the fire. Then her eyes slid to her sister, a very judgemental side-eye. “Girl, I think the whole camp heard your consent to being bred like an animal by this beast.”
“NO. Stop! You’re lying.” Amara covered her face with that thick cloak that enveloped her.
“Yes, I am. The camp was too far to hear you, but I certainly heard it and I’m not at all pleased. You will shut your mouth any time I wish to write love sonnets about my wizard as payment for having to hear that.”
“This stays between us.” Amara choked out.
“Well duh.” Serana rolled her eyes. “It sounded hot as fuck, I’m not going to lie. I know what you mean now when you say you’re half in love with Gale because by golly I think I’m rather fond of that berserker myself.”
Amara laughed, choosing that moment to pop the cork on the healing potion and give it a swig, swashing it around her gums before swallowing. It certainly didn’t taste good, but the action seemed to allow the potion to permeate her body quicker, and she was aching something fierce. She would not be surprised if her skirts were stained with blood, given his size and roughness that seemed at both beyond his control and the only way he knew to pleasure a woman.
“Did he say where he was going in that letter of his?” Serana asked.
Amara shook her head. “No, only that he’d find me again.”
“Hmm.”
They sat for a long while in silence, their tadpoles disconnected and oddly quiet while they processed the morning and the long night.
“You know, I know you know this, but I’d better say it anyway. Now is really not the time for you to be having a child,” Serana said suddenly. “It’s one thing to daydream, but it’s quite another for the reality of it.”
Amara blinked, then remembered with startling clarity the way Minsc insistently kept her plugged up for as long as either of them could stand, the intent behind his words “swollen with his seed” suddenly clicking together in her sex-addled brain.
“Oh shit.” Amara sighed, rubbing her face in the worn fabric of that cloak again. It was ridiculous, the way her body whined at his loss, half besotted with him simply based on his size, and that accent of his alone. “I didn’t realize–”
“I know, your tadpole was very clear about your state of mind in the moment. Just thought I’d better tell you. I don’t have the ingredients with me, but you should drink something to stop that in its tracks.”
Amara silently agreed. Though with a weird amount of reluctance. Part of her wanted to chance it, it was just once! But another, serious part of her knew that Minsc of Rasheman was a fertile man, and that any coupling with him would leave a woman with child no matter her cycle. It was irrational, obviously, since that’s not how bodies worked and certainly not how an elf’s worked, but it was a little niggling belief that would stick with her always.
“I’ll make one when we get back to camp.”
“And some underwear, since he made off with your only pair.”
Amara winced visibly, shaking her head as if the thought was still too new to comprehend. “And a new pair of underwear, since he made off with my only pair.”
Serana laughed endlessly, much to Amara’s annoyance.