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Now that Karlach’s engine had received a second upgrade from Dammon, the tiefling was finally cool enough that physical contact would no longer cause severe injury. Thanks to his breakthrough, her infernal engine was now at least a low enough temperature that Safyre could perform routine maintenance on it from the comfort of camp, rather than having to seek him out across town. Karlach was grateful to no longer have to limp through the crowded city streets of Baldur’s Gate every time she had chest pain or her engine was making an odd noise. Having a Blacksmith right at her fingertips in camp was infinitely more convenient.
“Give it to me straight doc, what is it this time?” Karlach joked, glancing down at the dwarf who had her ear firmly pressed to the barbarian’s chest.
“Can’t tell if you keep asking me. Now hush.” Safyre whispered, playfully elbowing her friend in the rib. After giving the machinery a good listen, she sat back on her haunches and rubbed her jaw contemplatively. “Damn piston ring’s loose again. Easy fix.”
“Ugh, you’re such a lifesaver, Saf.” Karlach grinned, resting back on her palms as the dwarf diligently got to work on the repairs.
From across the room, Lae’zel paced grumpily. Irritation bubbled in her stomach as the minutes ticked by. Before Safyre, she’d never envisioned herself to be the jealous type. But something about the dwarf made her aggressively territorial. Though she wanted to believe rationally that her partner would never cheat on her, it still didn’t stop the fleeting jealousy from cropping up when she’d watch her and the tiefling engage that much… touching. Unable to still her mind, she decided to lay down and see if a brief sleep would help quell her foul mood.
It did not. A dream plagued her nap that was far too vivid for comfort. Nightmarish visions of the pair skin to skin, Karlach leaning down to kiss those lips that were supposed to be only hers. Finally jostling herself awake with a startled gasp, Lae’zel turned to see her beloved standing over her with a concerned furrow in her brow.
“Woah! Y’alright there, love? You’re sweatin’ bullets. Havin’ another tadpole dream are we?” she asked worriedly, cradling the gith’s hands in her own in an attempt to soothe her. But Lae’zel rejected her affection, snatching her hands away and clutching them close to her chest.
“It is nothing. Don’t worry about it.” she said curtly, standing up to leave.
“Hold on now… What’s with the attitude?” Safyre tried to gently grab her by the elbow but missed, instead snagging her wrist in the palm of her hand.
“Chk. I said it is nothing! Leave it be.”
Finally she yanked herself free from Safyre’s grip on her wrist and stormed away, leaving the smith kneeling beside the bed in utter confusion.
Walking back over to Karlach, the tiefling only had an equally confused shrug to offer.
“Think Lae’s pissed at me fer somethin’. She just yelled at me. And not in the hot way.” Safyre sighed exasperatedly.
Karlach snorted, stifling a laugh at the dwarf’s remark. “Maybe all the time you’ve been spending working on that part for my engine is getting to her.”
“Fair point. I have had my nose buried in my anvil all week, so I can’t blame her for feeling a wee bit neglected… Either that or she’s still a touch mad about the other day. Told her she was as beautiful as a mighty mountain and she just threw an apple at me. Tried to explain it was a compliment but she wasn’t having it.”
“A mountain? Is that a… dwarf thing? I mean, I kinda get where you were going but I can’t say most women would take well to being compared to a massive landform.”
“Hmph…” Safyre tapped her chin, deep in thought trying to wrap her brain around what her girlfriend was so prickly about. “I gotta drink about this.”
“Uh.. Don’t you mean think?”
“No, you heard me.” the dwarf reasserted firmly. “Stiff drink’ll fix this. The all-mighty pint never led me astray before.”
Karlach shook her head as she watched the stout smith hobble down out the door and down the tavern steps.
***
Later that night, Safyre returned to the top floor of the elfsong, staggering in through the double doors and nearly falling over in the process. Her scent preceded her, the smell of ale wafting two paces ahead of her as she made her way back to her bunk. The inebriated dwarf stopped dead in her tracks the moment her gaze snagged on Lae’zel. The gith was too engrossed in a conversation with Halsin to notice that her girlfriend had returned home. Safyre charged in their direction, tripping over one of Halsin’s potted plants and landing face first between them. Before either of them could react Safyre picked herself back upright and pointed an accusatory finger at the elf towering over her.
“Aye! Big man!” she slurred. “Quit *hic* flirtin’ with my lady!”
Halsin, not at all threatened by the fired-up dwarf picking a fight with his ankles, effortlessly sidestepped her weak attempt at a punch. Their team was more than familiar with her drunken antics and her proclivity to pick bar fights, so he was entirely unphased by her outburst. The druid bid Lae’zel a good evening and flashed her a sympathetic smile as she hoisted her girlfriend over her shoulder like a thrashing sack of kittens.
“Are you quite finished or is there anywhere else you’d like to cause a scene?” Lae’zel grumbled in a hushed tone.
“Dunno… was thinkin’ of tellin’ that green lady she’s got a great arse. What was ‘er name again?” Safyre retorted sarcastically, staring down at the githyanki’s backside from where she was perched on her shoulder. Though she could not see Lae’zel’s face from her current position she could practically feel her eyes rolling.
Lae’zel lazily dumped her onto her bed and she flopped onto her back with a nauseated groan.
“It’s your turn now…” Safyre groaned as she willed herself upright. “Are you quite finished or are ya gonna finally tell me what that outburst earlier was about?”
Guilt pooled inside the pit of Lae’zel’s stomach. She had been hoping to stave off the conversation at least until morning, or ideally forever.
“Karlach thinks it’s ‘cause of her. Is she right?”
Safyre took Lae’zel by the hand and gently tugged her down so she was sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.
“I hope you can forgive me.. for being so foolish. To waste my time being angry over something that did not even occur was unfair of me.”
“C’mon Lae’zel… y’know you’re my lady. My only lady. And we’re each others’... uh….” she scratched the side of her scalp trying to recall the words. "Jack von fondue?”
“Zhak vo’n’fynh duj.” she corrected, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Lae’zel pulled her into a kiss. “My joy.”
“Come, I wanna show you something. I got a present for ya. Spent all day working on it.”
“No, I couldn’t possibly… I do not deserve it after the way I treated you.”
“Too bad. Mandatory gift.” Safyre chuckled, hopping down and taking Lae’zel by the hand. She led her partner out into the hallway and over to the door which was previously Stelmane’s private suite. With the investigation concluded, the Fist had actually done a pretty solid job at scrubbing it clean. It’s like you couldn’t even tell anymore that there’d been a grisly murder in there! Safyre eagerly turned the knob and threw the door open, giving the gith a gentle nudge at the small of her back to encourage her to take a step inside.
Lae’zel gasped softly as she surveyed the interior. The entire room was dimly lit by the flickering of at least two dozen candles. On the desk was a half-empty bottle of whiskey and a basket of pears fresh from the market. Lae’zel had never tasted one before but since coming to Faerun they had quickly become her favorite snack. Safyre had always gone out of her way to snag the fruit for her whenever she encountered some.
In the center of the room, the bed sheets were sprinkled with several flower petals and amongst them laid a singular wrapped box.
“Look.. I know you’re not a big romantic gesture type of lass, but I got to looking at the calendar the other day and it struck me that we’ve been… y’know.. together.. for some time now. And that’s not even mentioning how you’ve been a proper mother hen to our little egg all this time waiting for it to hatch. So at the very least consider this my push present.”
“But I did not even lay the eg-”
“Shh just open the damn box. Before I say anything else stupid.”
Lae’zel grunted softly and slipped the knot open, loosening her grip on the ribbon until it trickled onto the floor. Wiggling off the lid, a nearly inaudible gasp escaped her lips and her amber eyes grew wide as they stared down at the box’s contents. She gently lifted the metal object to eye level and sat the container aside so she could properly admire the temper.
“A silver scabbard?” she gasped in disbelief.
Safyre chuckled, grinning proudly as Lae’zel hopped up to retrieve her weapon. After their last rendezvous with Voss, Lae’zel had been bestowed her very own silver sword, one of the highest honors among her people. As proud as she was to wield it, none of the sheaths in their supply were large enough to contain such a massive weapon, so Safyre had already had it on her to-do list to forge one for her.
Back during their brief time in the creche, Safyre had secretly purloined a book from their library on gith culture and customs. In her mind, she figured that if she was going to be outnumbered by them 2 to 1 in her own household, that it maybe wouldn’t hurt to at least brush up on a little on their people’s history.
Though the githyanki didn’t really do love, they did have an old tradition that Safyre found particularly romantic. Gith consider their swords an extension of themselves, many even referring to their sword as their heart considering the Tir’su symbols for “heart” and “sword” were almost identical. For someone you really cared about, gifting someone a sheath was considered symbolic of wishing to keep their heart safe and protected.
“A perfect fit.” Lae’zel nodded approvingly as the sword snugly slotted right in. “How incredibly thoughtful.”
“Tla’kith vo’narsh ikith glora iyani’karai.” Safyre attempted to say in a heavily accented gith.
Despite her piss-poor istik pronunciation, Lae’zel took her meaning all the same. If we are drawn to distant battles, may your heart never falter.
“How.. How do you know that…??”
“Dunno. Think I read it in a book somewhere.” Safyre shrugged, jokingly playing dumb. Hearty, booming laughter erupted from her belly as Lae’zel shoved her onto her back, her head hitting the duvet with a soft poof.
“I really did, honest!” the dwarf grinned. Her joints creaked as she propped herself back upright on the bed. “Granted, that’s literally the only thing I know how to say. Well… that and those few curse words you taught me.”
Lae’zel laughed through her nose and perched herself beside her lover on the side of the bed. Taking her by the hand, the gith steeled herself and turned her head to meet her at eye-level.
“I… should apologize for my outburst earlier. You were undeserving of my ire, and in this moment I feel undeserving of you. I am sorry.”
“Consider the sentiment appreciated, but I assure you there’s no need. I haven’t been the best partner lately either. Got so wrapped up in my craft that our relationship nearly risked falling to the wayside… I promise I’ll do better. However, I do also just want to make it perfectly clear that I don’t share what’s mine, and I know you don’t either. It shames me to think you would ever think my eyes would wander. You’re the only woman this old boulder could ever need. I love you, Lae’zel.”
Lae’zel’s face burned even hotter and a complicated concoction of emotions swirled in her gut. It was nowhere near the first time she’d heard her partner say those words but after all this time it still never failed to fluster her all the same.
“I… I love you as well.”
The hesitation in her voice did not reflect a lack of devotion to her partner, but rather the overall foreignness of the word on her tongue. There could be no doubt anymore that her time in Faerun had indeed softened her, but never would she have ever dreamed of experiencing the tender affections of romance, much less demonstrating them herself.
“My joy, may I ask you something?”
“No.” Safyre joked. Though her sarcasm spoiled the serious moment they were having, it was done both intentionally and from a place of love. Safyre, ever the attentive partner, could always tell when her girlfriend had reached her limit of sappy vulnerability for the day. The moment she started picking up on those plain as day help me eyes and telltale subtle shifts in her body language, she’d make her laugh to break the tension and put her lover back at ease as soon as possible.
On the outside, Lae’zel was rolling her eyes but deep down they both knew how grateful she was to have a partner who knew her so well.
“Well I am going to ask anyway. I have been thinking more lately.. about that ritual you were speaking of before. The bonding ceremony your people do with their mates.”
“Ha! That wasn’t even a question, idio-”
Safyre was mid-swig when she made the realization and nearly choked on the burning whiskey in her throat. After a minor coughing fit, her eyes shot up at the gith in disbelief.
“Wait… Fuckin’ hells, woman! You’re talking about marriage??”
“Yes.. that. You presented the idea to me before and I dismissed you outright. But after mulling it over some more I have… reconsidered my position.”
“Now hold on. I’d never make you commit to something like that if you’re only doing it to appease me. Like we discussed before, as nice as it’d be to put a big old rock on that pretty finger of yours, it’s not a requirement. My vow I made to you that night in Reithwin is already real, and I’ve already promised you the whole of me. Anything else would just be for show.”
“And if that is what I desire? To be shown? I did not understand before how a simple piece of jewelry could mean so much, but after giving it some thought, the idea of a symbol that lets everyone know you’re mine and that I am yours… certainly has an appeal.”
“Are you fuckin’ proposing to me? Like right now?” Safyre smirked. “Well shit, if I knew it was gonna happen like this I wouldn’t have drank so much. Maybe even slapped on some perfume under my pits.”
“Bah. Don’t be absurd.” Lae’zel scoffed, a flustered blush slowly blooming on her cheeks. “It was merely a suggestion. I’ve come to understand this marital bond is quite revered among your people, and after all the effort you’ve taken to honor my heritage, returning the favor just seemed the proper thing to do.”
“Is that your roundabout way of saying you want me to do it then?” the dwarf teased.
“Chk. Well, obviously.” Lae’zel smirked suggestively. “But I am certain you don’t have an objection... You almost never hesitate to get on your knees for me, surely one additional instance will be of no consequence to you.”
“Spoiled fuckin’ princess.” Safyre grumbled under her breath. “But y’know I love that about ya. Hmm…… you got a deal, lass. Once all this brain shit is settled, I swear I’m gonna make us the finest damn pair of rocks you’ve ever seen.”
Holy shit. The dwarf let out a dreamy sigh, her eyes longingly scanning across her beloved’s sharp features. When she left home to pursue her career, love had been the furthest thing from her mind. But now that it was sitting right here in her lap, it was hard to believe a foul-mouthed, stubborn old drunkard like herself actually landed herself a wife. And a terrifyingly hot one at that.
The couple spent a long while after that vulnerable conversation just laying around on the bed, their limbs and hands intertwined, silently enjoying each other's warm embrace. Safyre habitually stole a glance down at Lae’zel’s chest, and after getting an eyeful of tit, realized she was still in partial armor.
“Ah, you want me to go grab you something more cozy to sleep in or is this your way of communicating to me that you wanna try that kith’rak and ghaik roleplay again?” she winked, flirtatiously tracing a finger along the gith’s metal breastplate.
“No.. another night for that. My usual sleeping clothes will be sufficient. The green one.”
Safyre hopped down from the bed and made her way back into the main room. Karlach was standing by the door pouring herself a glass of water.
“Saf! Wasn’t expecting to see you back tonight. Everything go well with your talk?” the tiefling grinned before lifting the cup to her lips.
“Oh yeah, we’re good…. More than good.” she smiled fondly. “But I don’t got time to chat, just here to pick up a change of clothes for her.”
She made her way over to their bed and as she knelt down, out of the corner or her sight she spotted their resident rogue slinking up behind her. The dwarf rolled her eyes, ignoring the nosy vampire and rummaging in Lae’zel’s trunk until she found the lingerie she was looking for.
“Ooooh, looks like somebody’s got big plans, tonight… Saw you and your.. paramour… rented out that private room down the hall…” Astarion drawled, pausing dramatically to get under the dwarf’s skin who was clearly in a hurry to get back. Not in the mood to deal with her frenemy’s prying, Safyre turned and shot him an unamused stare.
“If you must know, elf, I’m gonna go have me a stiff drink, stick my tongue in my girlfriend, have another stiff drink, then pass out face down on her chest. There. Satisfied?”
Astarion let out a disgusted groan and visibly recoiled, realizing his playful prodding got him way more than he bargained for.
“Ugh, gods! That is far too much bloody information, dwarf! I was only coming over here to begrudge you to try and keep the noise to a minimum. I know that’s a lot to ask of you two but I just don’t think it's fair I have to give up my beauty sleep so you two can.. do whatever it is you do to each other…” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“HA. Beauty sleep, eh? Whatever you say, pretty boy. But I ain’t making any promises. You try tellin’ a githyanki to shut up and see how many limbs you walk away with.” Safyre chuckled, turning on her heel and returning to their suite.
Once she approached the bed, Lae’zel eagerly snatched the silk slip, throwing it over her head and smoothing out the fabric as it cascaded down her lithe figure. Lifting her head, she realized her girlfriend was still standing there, burly arms crossed as if waiting for something.
“What? Are you expecting payment?” Lae’zel scoffed sarcastically. Hopping up onto the bed, Safyre flashed a big grin as she crawled over. She pressed her large palm to the gith’s shoulder and guided her onto her back before climbing on top to pin her down. Just before their lips could meet, Safyre paused to answer her.
“You know what I’m waiting for, woman. We’ve been over this. What are the magic words? Please aaaaand Th….”
“Shka’keth.”
“That’s my girl.”