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“What’s all this?” Halsin asks warmly, stepping out of the trees.
Amisar feels a familiar excited shiver rush through her at hearing his deep steady voice. “I’d wondered where you were,” she says, smiling up at him. Shit. You’re coming on strong again. One mug of ale and you’re like a tropical bird doing one of those crazy dances. But. Well. Maybe he likes birds. I wonder if he knows about those birds.... Idiot. He’s a DRUID, of course he does, and you’re just a girl who can swing a glaive.
Halsin shows no sign of noticing her inner battle with herself. “I was foraging, and the time got away from me.” He smiles, catching a glimpse of Karlach attempting to teach Shadowheart to dance around the campfire. “A party, is it? What are we celebrating?”
That “we” should not do such things to her. “Karlach. She—well, you know the news she received. We wanted to do...something nice for her. To take her mind off things.”
Halsin’s face falls slightly, like a field of wildflowers suddenly shadowed by a passing cloud. “That I can understand,” he says softly.
Amisar’s stomach starts to feel molten. Is this—is he...? She leans into the tingling fearlessness of the ale. “Are you saying you’d like to take your mind off things as well?”
Halsin turns slowly, looking down at her. She becomes suddenly aware of their difference in height, her eyes level with his chest. She’s looking up at him, meeting his gaze, which has a heat in it she has been dying to see for a long time.
“Yes.”
It’s easy enough to slip away from camp, back through the trees. Amisar swears the plants are helping Halsin move through them with grace. He steps like a deer on a well-worn trail, even with his broad shoulders, and she is crashing behind like a dwarf in plate-mail.
He doesn’t comment on it, thank the gods, and leads her easily to a spot she can tell he’s come to a few times before. There are slight hollows in the moss from someone sitting, and the remains of a candle sitting on the ledge of a dried mushroom.
Halsin puts out his hands over the moss, spreading his tanned fingers wide. A soft musical word whispers in the air, and the moss suddenly grows vibrant and plush, an inviting bed upon the earth.
Stars and moons.... “That’s amazing,” Amisar blurts out.
Halsin blinks. “What is? Oh!” He looks down at the now emerald green moss and smiles. “I forget you didn’t grow up surrounded by druids. I have been showing off more than I think.”
You could do well to show off MORE. Amisar fears for a moment she’s spoken this aloud, because Halsin’s gaze is suddenly heavy upon her as she looks him over, trying in vain to wish away his clothes, as handsome as he looks in them.
A sudden want strikes her, distracting her from even this. “Can you make a snapdragon?”
He cocks his head at her, but does swirl his hand through the air, tracing shapes she can’t discern, and a buttery yellow snapdragon races out of the ground between her feet, growth magically sped up. “Oh,” she bleats in delight, reaching down to cradle one of the velvety blooms in her hand. Oh, it’s real, it’s really real.
“What did you want it for?” Halsin asks softly.
Amisar stands up straight again, heart pounding. “I just wanted to see one again.”
Something shifts in the air between them. She doesn’t know what. Doesn’t know if such a thing has a name.
Lust and admiration in his voice, Halsin says, “Come here.”
She’ll tell herself afterwards she didn’t throw herself at him, but that description isn’t far off. Halsin holds her face in his broad hands, firmly yet tenderly, tilting her mouth up to his. He’s playful in his kisses, exploring over her lips, her cheeks, her neck. He lingers for a long while under her jaw, nuzzling and nipping, as she strains on tiptoe to stay within reach.
“You smell wonderful,” he murmurs.
Amisar curls her toes in her boots and blushes. So do you. With graceful ease, he lifts her up, hands under her hips, and she eagerly wraps her legs around his waist—as much as she can at least. She threads her hands into his hair, clinging tight, chasing off the disbelief that this is finally happening. She feels Halsin hum happily at the strength of her whole body’s grip onto him.
As he presses his face into her hair next to her temple, inhaling deep, Halsin sits down, still holding her tight. He leans back against the tree and settles Amisar onto his lap. “I could spend all night just like this,” he sighs, running his hands down her neck to graze across the laces of her shirt. “But I do wonder...if there was more you wanted as well?”
He presses upwards with his thick thigh that Amisar is straddling, and an unrestrained moan falls out of her mouth. “Gods, yes,” she groans, pressing forward to kiss him again, more frantic now, hands slipping into his own shirt. She feels like she could get lost in the lovely, hairy expanse of his chest.
He responds in kind, teeth and tongues starting to touch between them as his hands deftly untie the front of her shirt. Amisar has a sudden flash of remembering their first meeting: Halsin as an enraged bear, roaring at the goblins with a maw full of sharp teeth. She shivers, and grinds down again onto his leg, enjoying the pleased groan Halsin lets out from the pressure.
She hears something on her shirt rip as Halsin throws it open. She doesn’t care in the slightest.
“Flaming hells,” he half-growls. Reverent want darkens his eyes as his large hands trace over her chest. “You’re lovely.”
His mouth falls onto hers again, breath speeding up, as his thumbs tease over her nipples. Amisar finds herself grinding down again and again into his thigh, and gleefully feels Halsin’s cock hardening against her beneath his trousers.
“Fuck!” She moans into the quiet glade when Halsin’s mouth roams down her neck and affixes onto her nipple. She sees his bright eyes flicker up to her face, which she has no time to compose, so she knows he sees it flushed and slack-jawed with pleasure.
His smirk makes her stomach flip.
When his mouth wetly releases, he gives her nipple a single soft, teasing lick and says, “I’ve been imagining how you’d look in your pleasure. It’s even better than I thought.”
This implication that he’s been thinking about her like this—like she’s been thinking about him!—knocks her momentarily speechless. And here I worried he only thought of me as some dull-headed soldier....
He, too, is more handsome like this than she could have imagined, with his scarred face ruddy and his chestnut hair tousled by her eager hands. As his teeth graze across her other nipple, she wonders if he, too, has furtively touched himself during lonely starlit nights, to thoughts of moments like the one between them now.
She never thought she would enjoy feeling small, but in his hands, the experience thrills her. His grip nearly spans her waist. She wants to climb all over the bulk of his shoulders, wants to fall asleep on his warm chest after all of this.
Unbidden, visions of his bear form strike her again. That bloody fight, barely won by the skin of all of their teeth. That bear, stepping between her and the warg, slashing the fowl beast with its claws before it could strike at her.
For the briefest moment, she imagines it’s not Halsin’s chest she’s stroking over, but that bear’s, and she’s tiny beneath it and it’s growling—he’s growling, and his sharp teeth are—
She’s yanked back to the present when Halsin’s mouth kisses lower and lower down her belly, at the same moment that he lifts her and lays her back. The moss is more comfortable than her bedroll, and its better too, being with such exquisite company, than alone under a thin blanket.
“I have also been thinking....,” Halsin says, fingers tracing the waistband of her pants, “of what you must taste like.”
Thank the bloody Oakfather for this man. Amisar props up on her elbows enough to meet Halsin’s eyes. “Find out then.”
Halsin’s eyes flash with the challenge, and for a moment Amisar thinks he’s about to tear off her pants with his teeth. Go ahead.
But instead he only grins and easily lifts up her hips to shimmy down her pants and smallclothes. “I plan to.” He lays her now-bare legs back down upon the moss with care, before running his hands up her inner thighs. Amisar arches and inhales shakily. She feels especially naked next to him, with her wearing only a shirt that’s practically falling off of her, and him still in his trousers and half-undone shirt. She feels a bit like a fresh fawn, pale limbs akimbo against this unearthly green bed of moss.
She shivers from Halsin’s sighing breath breezing over her mons as he kneels down and lowers his head between her spread legs. “I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.”
Amisar steadies her breathing best she can. “Really?”
“Mmhm. Ever since you helped free me from that awful cage.” He trails his fingers through the soft white curls of her pubic hair. Amisar feels her cunt twitch. Fingers. Inside me. Come on. Oh please. “Perhaps it’s strange, but there was something especially...beautiful about you that day. The way you fought.”
You were a bear that day. “That was actually...the first time I’d taken an Elixir of Bloodlust.”
Halsin raises an eyebrow, then chuckles, before brushing his thumb over her heated clit. “Lust looks good on you, Amisar.”
His tongue replaces his thumb, and she gets lost for a long while in the feeling of his warm mouth on her. His movements are that of a man completely content. His hands roam over her hips and thighs, tracing the lines of muscle that flex and relax in time with the flicks of his tongue. Before long his tongue dips lower, dragging long licks up her labia. His hands never stop moving: squeezing her ass, reaching up to pinch at her nipples, stroking down her belly. When her head isn’t thrown back, Amisar can see his mouth and chin starting to glisten with her slick.
“Well?” she gasps out, when she has enough of her wits to speak.
“Well what?” he replies, and her cunt tingles with the vibrations of his voice.
“How do I taste?”
He lets out a low, hungry sigh. “Delicious.” His first two fingers press into her cunt as his mouth affixes onto her clit, sucking hard.
“Halsin!” she whimpers out, grabbing the back of his head and pushing him even harder against where he is lighting her aflame. His fingers feel divine filling her: warm and calloused and pressing upward just enough to make her toes curl.
Perhaps it’s because of this maddening pleasure that she decides to say something wild. “Can I tell you what I’ve been thinking about?”
He gives her throbbing clit a gentle lick before answering. “Absolutely.”
“You can turn into a bear.”
He nuzzles into the warm crevice where her mound meets her thigh, clearly not fully listening. “Yes. I can.”
I’m really going to have to spell this out, sweet and suffering devils.... “You could turn into a bear right now.”
His fingers inside her go still, as he glances up at her, his expression unreadable. She cannot tell if she has made a wonderful bet or a grievous error.
“...You want me to fuck you while in my wildshape?” His voice is low, but not angry. Careful. Intrigued.
Amisar swallows hard. Gods, why does it sound even hotter when he says it? “Yes.” She presses on. “I mean, as you said, I didn’t grow up surrounded by druids. So—is that truly such a...strange request?”
Slowly Halsin slips his fingers out of her and moves to hold himself over her. His breathing has changed, his broad chest rising and falling rapidly. She never wants to leave this shelter of his thick arms. “No, it’s not. I haven’t...for many years. But I have before.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “You don’t know what you’re suggesting.”
This makes Amisar’s hackles rise. “Reconsider that perhaps I know exactly what I’m suggesting.”
“You saw me as a bear. I’m three times your size.”
Oh, I know you are. “Yes.”
“I have fur. And claws.”
Good. “Yes.”
“I can’t speak.”
“Yes—well. It’s—that’s not one of the reasons.”
He laughs, a beautiful sound, like the fluttering of many joyful wings. It makes Amisar’s heart glow. The growing tension evaporates as he leans down and kisses her. It would have been a light, innocent thing, if he didn’t taste so thoroughly of her slick. “Are you that eager to shut me up?”
“No! No. And I thought...well....” She reaches into her pouch beside her discarded pants and retrieves a Potion of Mind Reading.
Halsin raises an eyebrow. “That would give you quite the advantage.”
Amisar shakes the bottle playfully under his nose. “Which would even the playing field, don’t you think?”
He is quiet for a few moments, but Amisar can sense that she’s won. His eyes keep wandering all over her naked body beneath him, and she can hear the soft crumbling of earth from where his hands are gripping into the moss on either side of her head.
“That is—” she says, suddenly worried. “As long as it’s something you enjoy doing.”
That knee-weakening smirk lights up his face. Amisar gasps as he surges down to kiss her, all of his warm torso pressing down on hers. He lingers for a while, licking at her lips that he’s making messy with her own slick. Then his mouth is at her ear murmuring, “I very much enjoy it.” He nuzzles again at that favored spot under her chin before saying, in a voice that reminds her why this man was made First Druid: “Drink the potion.”
Stomach feeling full of dancing lights, Amisar pops off the cork and downs the maroon liquid. As soon as she sets the bottle aside, she locks eyes with Halsin. She nods.
With a tearing sound, his body ripples, grows, transforms, in the space of a blink, into the familiar yet terrifying bear, its bulk blocking out the moon as it stands over her prone form.
Amisar freezes, breath shallow. She swears her heart stops for a moment before picking up again twice as rapidly, as if it were a Potion of Speed she downed instead.
Still sure, little fighter?
The voice in her head is Halsin’s, low and familiar, but swathed in a crackling alien weight that makes Amisar gasp. It’s not at all like the crawling feeling of the Illithid connections, but rather as if his mind picks up a bit of the spirit of his fearsome animal body on its way from his brain to hers.
The bear sniffs down her quivering torso, large red tongue licking once over its gleaming teeth. You certainly smell sure.
That she cannot deny. Her cunt is a throbbing, overwhelming distraction, even now, pinned beneath this beast that smells of earth and blood and danger. She stares hard into the black glassy eyes of the bear as she lifts a hand to drag it through the fur of his neck. It earns her a pleased purring sound. His fur is coarse and warm and the touch leaves her hand ever so slightly oiled. Amisar feels a thrill race through her as she realizes she is going to smell like him, like a bear, after this.
Oil. In my bag.
Amisar hurries to reach over for it, and pours some out into her hand. Nearly frantic now with lust, she slides herself along the moss beneath the bear’s crouched huffing form, until her wet hand can reach up and grasp the thick reddened cock emerging from dark fur.
Her first touch elicits a roar that makes her jump and pull her hand away. Before she can say a thing, Halsin’s voice rattles her skull. Keep going.
Fear keeps her frozen a moment longer. Everywhere is muscle covered in dark fur, everywhere is the dank smell of animal and want.
The bear tilts its head down to look at her. Have I scared you, little fighter? You smell frightened.
She is. She is.
And she loves it. She wants this. She wants him. She wants him to take her, with her blood singing and screaming all the while.
With both hands now, she takes the bear’s cock in her grip again. She is ready for the rumbling growl this time, for the shaking of the limbs around her. His cock isn’t long for his relative size, but massively thick, more than her hand can meet fingers and thumb around. Its head is especially engorged, and already leaking a fluid whose scent drives her wild.
Fully devoted to the task at hand, she moves lower and licks her tiny pink tongue across the slit of Halsin’s heavy beastial cock.
She almost loses a tooth as the bear thrusts. Amisar....
Her name from his mind is less of a word and more of a swirl of sensations. She sees sunlight glinting off her white hair, smells a scent that is so familiar and indistinct that it can only be herself. Feels a thrilling flip in her stomach, of pride and attraction and curiosity. She realizes she is seeing herself, in the span of a second, through Halsin’s eyes.
And surging beneath it all, like a ice-topped river racing with the hidden rush of snowmelt, is wild, single-minded lust.
She meets again the bear’s black, bottomless eyes, both of them breathing hard: her on her back in the moss, breasts heaving. Him with his huffing breath a warm cloud into the now-cooling night air. Not looking away, she licks her lips, tasting again the drips from his cock, musk and salt filling her mouth.
The bear growls as Halsin’s voice booms in her head. Turn over.
Amisar flips onto her knees and elbows, blushing blooming down her neck as she raises her hips up towards the radiating heat of the bear. His massive front paws press down in the moss on either side of her elbows, long dark claws glinting in the moonlight.
She gasps indignantly as the bear’s large warm tongue licks up the entire cleft of her ass. It licks again and again, as if she’s a piece of honeycomb to feast on.
Delicious.... Halsin’s voice rings in her head even as the wet sounds of the bear’s tongue fill her ears. Oakfather preserve me...you taste so good.
Its tongue is wider than any man’s she’s had on her before, and textured just enough to make her shiver. She thinks for a moment of the Harper druid who turned into a panther, thinks of the intriguing sandpaper texture of a cat’s tongue. Surely Halsin’s seen a panther before.... Godsdamnit, woman, one thing at a time.
The bear’s teeth press against the sweat-damp divot of Amisar’s lower back as its tongue continues to lick up her vulva, spreading saliva and slick. She whimpers, pressing her forehead down against the moss. Her thighs are shaking with the tangled impulses of wanting to jump up and flee as fast as her legs can carry her—and wanting to spread those same legs wide to offer up whatever the beast might want a bite of.
She’s disappointed to feel his tongue leave her, but her heart speeds up when he crouches low over her, warm furred belly pressing down her on her back. His paws press down on her elbows with inexorable weight, pinning her down.
The burning heat of the bear’s cockhead presses against her cunt. Amisar clings to the moss and moans. Oh no, oh gods, please, fuck, yes.
Ready, little mate?
“Please,” is the word that slips out, and then his cock is breaching her, and he’s enormous, and she doesn’t even have enough breath to scream—
The bear thrusts and thrusts, splitting her open, mounting her. Her whole body rocks with the pounding, but she doesn’t slip away from him, pinned as she is under his rough-padded paws. She feels the bear’s furred thighs slam into the back of her legs again and again, rattling her in time with its deep and greedy growls. Threatening all the while are his claws, curled into the earth next to where her face is pressed desperately into the moss.
You’re being such a good mate for me. So small and tight.... Halsin purrs into her mind as the bear’s hot breath coats the back of her neck, dribbles of saliva splattering onto her skin. Yes. Mine. Yes, let me take you.
“Yes, Halsin....” Amisar manages to moan. Her voice is stuttered and low, as if his wide burning cock is truly pressing into her throat like it feels, when he hits the depths of her cunt.
The bear snarls at her whimpered reply, and Amisar shrieks as its teeth bite into her shoulder, sharp pain flashing across her skin. That jaw could tear her arm from its socket, and even Halsin might not have a spell for fixing that, and then she won’t even be a girl who can swing a glaive—
She wails, as all this terror only makes her cunt spasm harder. The bear doesn’t bite down, doesn’t dismember her, but only holds tight as it speeds up its fucking, further trapping her onto its cock.
You’re close. I can feel you. I can smell it on you. The bear’s saliva runs down her neck, mixing with her blood. Amisar thinks her dizzying pleasure is the only thing keeping her conscious. She feels thoroughly spread out on his thick cock. Feels like prey here under his paws and teeth. Feels like she’s bathing in pure sunlight from the thrilling pleasure of it all. For a shivering, deliciously humiliating moment, she imagines one of her companions coming to find them and arriving to see her like this: mounted and bred by a beast, ass arched eagerly upward for it, face pressed against the ground and flushed as red as the meaty cock that’s splitting her in half.
“Yes, Halsin,” she groans, eyes fluttering, body shaking. “Fucking mount me, yes.”
Bloody hells—!
The bear’s teeth release and a low heavy howl tears out of its throat. Amisar feels the sound crash through her at the same moment the bear pounds into her, and suddenly her cunt feels overheated with the gush of cum from its cock. Yes! Oh gods yes, fill me!
With wet, stuttering thrusts, the bear rides out its expulsion. Through the Mind Reading, Amisar hears only bright, wordless sensations: relief, ecstasy, lush green things, and again the all-encompassing scent of her own skin.
When it at last slides free of her cunt, globs of spend and oil splatter onto the moss between her spread knees. Her cunt feels used up—and agonizingly empty. She doesn’t move at first, trying to catch her breath.
Let me help you come. Halsin’s mental voice sounds out of breath, but still eager. The bear looms over her, framing her trembling body beneath its strong steady one. What do you want, little fighter?
She tries not to think about it. Opens her mouth for the first thing to fall out. “Tongue....”
Yes. Yes! Like this, or as myself?
Like this. Hells, she’s nervous to ask, but she wants....
“Halsin,” she gasps, as the bear’s warm nose nudges at her butt and playfully licks up her asscheek.
Either way is alright by me, if that helps.
“Like this,” she says quickly, grateful for his grace.
His pleased chuckle is like a caressing hand across her mind. The bear’s snout nudges harder. On your back. I want to see you.
Amisar rolls over, elbows and knees relieved. She swallows heavily, staring up once again at the dark furred bear who she has just asked to lick her cunt to completion. Through the Mind Reading, she feels vague glowing shapes that, put together, whisper mine: her asleep in Halsin’s tent. His lips on hers. His hand in her hair. A soft tinge of regret: the wound on her shoulder, which still mildly stings.
“You have much more important things to worry about right now,” she teases, reaching up to flick one of his tufted ears. “I’m fine.”
The bear’s ear twitches, affronted, and Amisar can’t help but grin. The movement is so similar to Halsin’s own pointed ears twitching when he’s annoyed.
Later then. The bear settles onto its belly and places one heavy paw onto Amisar’s stomach. She bites her lip as its claws rest against her skin: dark blades on white flesh. Let’s see what we can do with you, hm?
The first lick of the bear’s broad tongue across her clit makes her tremble. She can see his work clearly now, can stare down at herself, at the paw pinning her down, at the pointed teeth, stained with her blood, that are brushing against her mons with every hungry lick. The sight makes her start to moan, wordless and warbling.
And with every stroke, Halsin’s words tumble through her mind, overlapping and awestruck, unfettered by the task thoroughly occupying the bear’s mouth. That’s a good girl. Come for me. Gods, you taste incredible. I could spend all night licking every inch of you. Go ahead and come. I want to smell you gushing for me. Let me taste it. Come on, little fighter, you greedy wild thing....
A squeaked-out fuck is all she manages before she’s flying over the edge, cunt pulsing and pulsing and pulsing. Her breath comes in messy gasps as she clings to the warm fur of the bear’s leg across her, bucking upwards into its eager, tireless tongue.
Far off, an owl hoots, and the wind picks up high in the canopy. Amisar blinks, and it’s once again Halsin’s broad hands holding her hips, Halsin’s soft pink mouth laying kisses all over her quivering thighs. Still apparently featherlight for him, Amisar feels herself be gently lifted and resettled, nestled into his arms with them both lying on their sides. Her head is pillowed on his bicep, and all around her is the lovely, warm scent of his sweat.
With a soft kiss and a whispered word, Halsin pours a healing spell into the wound on her shoulder, and Amisar sighs in relief. That was about to start actually hurting. The spell also takes the sharp edge off the growing ache between her legs, leaving only the soft afterglow of being wrung out of pleasure.
“I have some water around here somewhere to clean up the rest of you,” Halsin murmurs, but Amisar grabs ahold of his wandering hand and holds it to her chest.
“Worry ’bout it’n a minute,” she says. “’M too comfortable....”
Halsin picks the yellow snapdragon and tucks the bloom behind her ear. As you say, little fighter, she hears just before the Potion fades.
She shouldn’t fall asleep here. Their companions really might come looking for them. These are too dangerous of times to go missing and not be noticed after long. But for now she lets herself be content in warm arms, with Halsin’s nose happily breathing in the scent of her hair.