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It was a beautiful thing, really, to have a god on his knees.
Minthara walked in a slow circle around the wizard, letting a single fingernail drag along his bare shoulder and relishing the way he shuddered under her touch. His robes were tenting suspiciously, the outline of his cock just visible as he shifted imperceptibly.
“Still,” she hissed, her voice more venom than not.
He froze, eyes closing as his head tilted back ever so slightly.
“Good boy,” she acknowledged, and this time he couldn’t contain the shiver that ran through him.
She knew he wouldn’t be able to. For all of his hubris, for all of his newfound power, there was nothing more Gale Dekarios wanted than to be good for someone.
And right now, Minthara was that someone.
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What in the hells am I doing?
Gale had asked himself that question many, many times over the years, but it had never seemed as relevant as it did right then.
He was a god, for crying out loud.
And yet.
He was on his knees in front of Minthara, of all people. He wasn’t even sure how this had happened exactly. One minute they’d been at the reunion, chatting and conversing with their old friends, and the next Minthara had been leaning in, purring in his ear.
“Power suits you, Dekarios,” she’d whispered, her breath hot against his skin. “This glow…” She ran a hand across the exposed portion of his chest. “Beautiful.”
Gale had done a double-take at that; he’d been called quite a few things by Minthara in their time together. Mostly insults - “you have the aura of a third child” tended to repeat in his head late at night when he couldn’t sleep - and smaller digs about him being a ridiculous wizard. Overly fussy. A gods-damned prude - that had been the night he’d complained about the sounds of Minthara giving Karlach a proper send-off before she had to return to the hells.
Then again, he supposed he couldn’t fault her for that one. If anyone deserved to come until she blacked out, it was Karlach.
But, back to the party and how he’d managed to get himself in this situation.
Minthara had been looking devastatingly beautiful, as always; she had a dangerous kind of beauty to her. The sort he wanted to keep looking at, but kept pulling his eyes away, lest it destroy him.
Most of his other companions had spoken to him briefly, several of them ending the conversation abruptly once Gale started explaining his future plans.
Mortals. They didn’t understand. He was the God of Ambition - of course he had Plans. Things he wanted to do. He would be unforgettable. Untouchable.
But Minthara - there was something different about her that night. Not in her appearance - she was just as viciously beautiful as always, what with her dusky skin, silky white-blonde hair, and gleaming red eyes that he would swear could see straight through him. She was dressed in leather and spidersilk, no doubt the finest drow accoutrements she could find; they clung to her like a second skin where it mattered, and fluttered in her wake where it didn’t.
Gale had never thought someone could be as beautiful as Astarion, but Minthara was coming close. Possibly surpassing him, considering the fact that the Vampire Ascendent had made a perfunctory appearance before shifting into a bat and tearing off into the night. A shame, really; Gale had been prepared to discuss the ways they could become even more legendary. To hells with being the Heroes of the Gate; the God of Ambition and the Vampire Ascendent together would have been an unholy, unstoppable force.
But Astarion was gone. And Minthara was there, eying him in a way she never had before.
Gale considered her; as the daughter of House Baenre, she would hold considerable power in the Underdark. She was a fellow Hero of the Gate, and that title alone opened doors, even to a drow. She was brilliant; he knew that - but more importantly, she was brilliant in areas he was not. She was a tactician, a leader, a politician. A drow through and through, cruelty was second nature to her.
All of this came together to form one very important fact: by the time Minthara approached him, he’d already made up his mind.
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Minthara had never really considered the wizard in any ways that mattered. Wizards, in general, were useless to her; most of them died before they had a chance to do anything worthwhile.
Gale, however, had somehow managed to live long enough to become a god.
She hadn’t thought he had it in him. But there he was, months after they had disposed of the Netherbrain, glowing and shimmering in an unnatural way. His skin almost had a dusky appearance, much like her own, and his eyes - which had been one of the few things she’d liked about him - were no longer the warm chestnut brown she remembered. Now, they crackled with power, glowing a pale, inhuman icy blue. He was wearing deep blue robes with a hint of purple to them, formed into a toga of sorts, complete with excessive amounts of gold accents.
Fucking wizards. It was pitiful, the ostentatious way he was dressed. He’d always had delusions of grandeur as far as she was concerned, and now that he actually had some power, he was even more insufferable.
But there was one thing about this new version of Gale that was appealing to Minthara in a way she’d never considered. And that was the sheer, unrelenting power that seemed to ripple off him in waves.
Minthara leaned back against the table, a glass of wine in her hand as she contemplated him. He was speaking to Shadowheart, who was looking less than impressed with whatever he was telling her. She tapped her nails against her glass, her mind racing.
Her time since the fall of the Netherbrain had been marked with madness; she’d returned to the Underdark as an outcast, at war with the Spider Queen herself. Her House - once respected and feared - was lost, and Menzoberranzan felt like a distant dream most days.
Hells. If only that ridiculous leader of theirs had seized control of the brain, she too could have been a god, ready to rule the realm. She would have been dripping with power, with venom, with blood.
But - there was Gale. The self-proclaimed Wizard of Waterdeep, the God of Ambition, glowing with an unnatural aura that barely contained his ego.
Minthara was no fool. She knew the wizard’s type. She knew what he was, deep in his core. Powerful, greedy, lustful - and more than anything, a soul-burning need for acceptance. To be wanted. Needed.
She drained the rest of her glass, thumping the empty stem down on the table before she approached him. For one long moment, they just looked at each other, and then Minthara moved into his space, almost too close, before she whispered, “Power suits you, Dekarios.” She ran her hand across his exposed chest, taking care to let her nails flick his nipple on the way.
Gale was looking at her somewhat warily; she supposed she couldn’t blame him, considering their lack of prior relationship. She ducked her head, letting her breath ghost over his ear as she said, “We could rule the realm, you and I.”
Gale swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “What, exactly, do you want?” he asked. She could feel the shiver that went through him, anticipation and desire all in one quaking motion.
“I would think it would be obvious to a man as smart as you,” she murmured. “You know what I do with men with power.”
Gale visibly shuddered, a shaky breath escaping him. “I do,” he said, his voice pitched low. “You use them.”
Minthara waited, staring straight into those unnatural glowing eyes. “We could use each other,” she stated. “I know things. I know how to rule. How to plan. How to seize.” At that, she grabbed his wrist, nails digging into the faintly glowing skin.
Gale was watching her closely, looking down at where she was gripping his wrist as if he couldn’t quite believe she was touching him.
She waited one more moment before she went in for the kill, years of pent-up rage heating her voice as she said, “And you will be mine.”
“I am a god,” he growled. “What are you? A fallen daughter from a shattered house?”
Minthara sucked in her breath, eyes flashing. “You may be a god, wizard, but I do not worship you.”
Something flared in Gale’s eyes at that, his brows narrowing. “We rule together,” he hissed. “You need me as much as I need you.”
“You can tell yourself that, wizard,” she replied, amusement coloring her voice. She spun around, stalking away from him without another word.
“God,” he snapped, indignation sharp in his tone.
Regardless, his footsteps followed a moment later and Minthara let a smile creep across her face. He’d fallen right into her web.
She’d known he would.
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This was a mistake.
It had to be a mistake.
But if it wasn’t….well. He was a god. Surely it would be okay. Fine, even.
Gale followed Minthara, who was striding swiftly away from the party, her spidersilk cloak fluttering delicately behind her.
The fact that he was already painfully hard beneath his toga was a bit of a problem; he took a moment to surreptitiously adjust himself. He’d started aching the moment Minthara said she needed him.
Gods-damn it all.
Because if there was one thing Gale knew about himself, it was the fact that being needed was nearly a primal thing in his brain. Someone wanting him, needing him - it was a heady, uncontrollable surge of adrenaline in his blood. And for someone like Minthara - a woman who oozed the confidence of someone who needed no one - to say she needed him?
It was better than any drug, any spell, anything else Gale could even conceive. Hells, floating in the astral planes having sex with a goddess seemed to pale in comparison.
He’d been following Minthara for nearly ten minutes when she made a sharp turn, pushing her way into ruins he recognized. He’d seen these before, months ago; it had originally been some sort of temple or church. The roof was mostly gone, but the stone walls were still intact - and, more importantly, the altar was still standing. It was dirty and crumbling from disuse, but it was there.
Moonlight streamed into the remains of the building, making abstract patterns on Minthara’s skin as she spun around to face him. The smile on her face was a wicked thing, all teeth and edges. She held a hand out, gesturing for him to stop, and he complied, stopping several feet away from her.
“We may need each other, wizard, but have no delusions about who is in charge here,” Minthara said, her voice sharp and echoing against the stone walls.
“I’d like to remind you that while I am a wizard of considerable acclaim, I am also the newly minted God of Ambition -”
Minthara raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. The hand she’d been holding out twisted, one single finger pointing at him before she tapped it downwards.
Once.
Twice.
She never made it to three; Gale had dropped to his knees, one of them giving an alarming crack as he hit the floor.
Minthara nodded in approval, moving closer and threading her fingers through his hair before wrenching his head back, forcing him to look at her.
“You may be a wizard of considerable acclaim, Gale Dekarios,” she said, her voice low and thrumming with heat. “But here, your power is mine. Do you understand me?”
And gods help him - he nodded, his breath coming in sharp gasps as she brought her other hand down to stroke along his jaw before pushing her thumb into his mouth. He accepted it immediately, lavishing the rough pad of her thumb with his tongue, bobbing his head slightly as he worked.
“Oh, so you can be a good boy when you want to be,” she murmured.
Unable to speak around the digit in his mouth, he nodded vigorously. There was a heat in Minthara’s eyes, a need; whether it was for power or something more, he was unsure. All he knew was that he would provide.
She needed him, and that was enough.
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Minthara yanked her thumb out of Gale’s mouth, circling him slowly, fingernails tracing along the bare skin of his shoulder. He was fidgeting - no doubt the erection she could see pushing out against the thin fabric of his toga was getting uncomfortable.
“Still,” she snapped, and he ceased his wiggling at once, gazing up at her with eyes that burned in the darkness. She’d thought she missed the brown from before, but now, seeing these new ones in the dark - she understood. The power glimmering in them, the untapped potential - gods, it was truly a sight to behold.
“If this is going to work,” she continued, scraping her nails down the length of his arm and making him tremble, “You’re going to have to be a very good boy for me. Do you understand me?”
He nodded once, sharp and jerky, a hand twitching up as if to touch her before he thought better of it. She moved in front of him, resting one boot-clad foot between his knees, the curve of her knee pressing against the hard line of his erection. He whined, a pitiful noise drifting away in the night, and she gripped his hair again, pulling his head back before leaning down to kiss him. Hard, claiming - she made sure to nip his lower lip, drawing blood, tasting the faint hum of magic, of godliness that burned beneath the iron flavor. Her tongue drove into his mouth, mapping every inch of it, learning every bit of him.
The wizard was already looking wrecked; his hair was a mess from her grabbing it, his lip was bleeding, and he was rocking his hips forward ever so slightly, grinding himself against her leg.
“Did I tell you you could do that?” she all but growled, pressing her leg against him with a sharp jerk, making him suck in his breath and wince.
“No,” he choked out. “I - sorry.”
She gave him an appraising look, pondering all the ways she could have fun with him; there were few things that aroused her as much as being fully in control of someone. Especially when that someone was oozing raw power. Minthara shifted slightly, feeling her folds slide together; she was already soaked.
Minthara backed away from Gale, his hips thrusting forward desperately at the loss of contact before he remembered himself, holding as still as he could.
For her.
She slowly peeled off the delicate spider silk cloak floating down her back, folding it carefully and setting it on the altar. Her halter top followed, the intricately embroidered leather getting the same treatment. She bent down to unlace her boots, and stopped when Gale spoke.
“Please,” he said, his voice ragged. “Can I -” He gestured at her foot, looking so gods-damned pitiful that she had to laugh.
“My boots are not for eating, wizard,” she snapped. “But I suppose I could let you do the work for me.”
He nodded eagerly, scooting closer and unlacing her boots slowly and carefully before tugging the first one off. Much to her surprise, he gently massaged her foot after he’d removed it, thumbs pressing into the arch, pulling a noise of unexpected pleasure out of her.
“Look at you,” she said, shaking her head. “The God of Ambition, relegated to giving foot massages like a common whore.”
Gale sucked in his breath, glaring up at her. “I am no whore.”
“No,” she mused. “Just a power-hungry, lost little boy.”
For one moment, she was sure he was going to cast something - gods only know what, he certainly had an entire repertoire of danger in his head - and blast her straight out of the building. But he took a slow, shaking breath before he tugged at the other boot, repeating the process, thumbs digging along the aching ball of her foot.
She nodded in approval before unlacing her trousers, peeling the tight leather down her legs. Gale was watching her every move intently, almost as if he was trying to memorize each motion. Bare except for her underwear - a thin, black silky garment - she rested her hands on the altar behind her before lifting herself up, sitting on the edge before spreading her legs. The coolness of the night air against the heated skin of her inner thighs was invigorating - but not as much so as the way Gale was looking at her.
Like she was the only thing he could see. The only thing that mattered to him right now.
Perfect.
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Minthara had propped herself up on the altar, looking every inch like something to be worshiped. Gale’s head was full of static; he, the one who always had something to say about any and everything, had been rendered mute by this woman. This drow. She was unpredictable and volatile, one of the most unpleasant people he’d ever met - and right now, he would start a gods-damned war for her, and they both knew it.
“Wizard,” she snapped, the command in her voice pulling him forward like some sort of invisible leash. “Use that tongue of yours for something besides prattling endlessly about pointless drivel.”
He took a moment to murmur under his breath, conjuring a pillow for his aching knees before he knelt down at the altar to worship his new goddess. Minthara loomed over him, her white-blonde hair nearly glowing in the moonlight, one of her hands coming to rest lightly on the back of his head. He let his hands smooth up her legs, feeling the lean muscles in her calves before giving way to the sharp bones of her knee, the silky-smooth skin of her upper thighs.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in to press kisses along her inner thigh. At the crease where her thigh met her hip, he nosed along it, inhaling deeply and humming in pleasure at the scent of her. Lilacs. Sugar. Resin. Something darker that he couldn’t define, something that was just Minthara. He mouthed along the crotch of her underwear, moaning quietly when he realized just how soaked they already were.
Gale used the tip of his finger to push the offending piece of cloth out of the way, taking a moment to just admire the sight before him. Soft, nearly-white hair dusted down Minthara’s labia, and he could see her arousal glistening along her slit, just waiting for him. If he’d thought she’d smelled delectable before, it was completely surpassed by the nectar dripping from her.
Minthara’s fingers tightened in his hair, and that was all the warning he got before she pulled him in, pressing his face into her cunt.
Gale could take a hint; he got to work immediately, running his tongue along the inner crease of her labia, stroking along the outer edge of her clit and causing her breath to catch slightly. Down the other side, taking a moment to delve deeper, pressing his tongue into her and moaning at the heady taste of her. He worked his way back up, flicking his tongue over her clit ever so lightly, then circling it slowly.
“Did I tell you to toy with me like some inexperienced virgin?” she asked, hooking a leg around him, her bare heel pressing into his back.
“No,” he replied, sliding two fingers in her without warning, crooking them slightly and stroking along the sweet spot inside her. “Fret not, I have something of a practiced tongue.”
“Best that you use it for something besides speaking, then.”
“Of course.” He wasted no time in locking his lips over her clit and sucking, ripping a startled yelp of pleasure out of Minthara, her back arching up and away from the altar. Her other foot was drawn up next to her, while the other continued to dig into his back, spurring him on.
She was close already, he could tell; she was clenching fiercely around his fingers, her breathing coming hard and fast as she ground down against his face. He kept it up, fingers thrusting in and out of her vigorously, alternating between flicking his tongue over her clit and pulling it into his lips and sucking - and then she was yanking his hair, sweet-sharp spikes of pleasure rippling down his spine as she came, wetness flooding over his fingers.
He licked as much of it up as he could, whining desperately at the taste, his neglected cock leaking and soaking through his robes. He wanted, wanted her badly, wanted to be good for her -
Minthara was still bucking against his face, whimpering. Gods, he hadn’t done this in the physical realm in - well, longer than he cared to admit. There was something to be said for how real it all was; the scent of her skin, the slipperiness coating his fingers, the breathy moans escaping her lips. He’d thought floating in the astral sea, becoming one with his goddess was as good as it could possibly get.
It turned out, he hadn’t been worshipping the right goddess.
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Minthara was shaking through her second orgasm, one hand clawing desperately at the stone surface of the altar as the wizard knelt before her, that gods-damned tongue of his doing things that she had never imagined he could be capable of.
She took a moment to consider that she might, in fact, be in trouble; after all, she was the one who was supposed to have the upper hand. And there she was, coming apart repeatedly under the expert manipulation of the most ridiculous, annoying wizard she’d ever met.
“Fuck,” she yelped as Gale added another finger, pressing insistantly against her walls and making her arch up sharply. When he slowed down and glanced up at her with something like concern in his eyes, she snapped, “Don’t stop.”
He sped back up, and then she was shaking apart yet again, finally gasping “Stop.”
Gale - the good boy that he was - stopped immediately, sitting back on his haunches and gazing up at her in a way that could only be described as worshipping. He was resting his hands lightly on her thighs, rubbing gently, soothing her as she tried to come back to herself.
The wizard was an absolute mess; his face was flushed, his beard absolutely soaked, his eyes glazed over in a way that told her he was somewhere else completely. She leaned forward, stroking his hair back off his face with delicate fingers. He let out a pitiful whine, nuzzling into her hand, glowing eyes falling shut.
“Wizard,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “Stand up.”
Gale stood, moving like he was underwater. He swayed slightly in front of her, and she reached out to grip his hip firmly, holding him steady. Like this, she could see how much he’d been leaking into his robes; there was a wet patch all around his crotch, the material clinging to what looked to be a generously sized cock in an obscene fashion.
She slid off the altar, taking a moment to flick the clasp of the robe, causing the filmy white material to drop to the ground, leaving Gale naked in front of her. Much to her surprise, he wasn’t as soft as she’d expected him to be; his chest and arms were well-defined, covered with a plush layer of dark hair. Hair trailed down the softness of his stomach, leading to his swollen cock, which was rock hard, the deep red of the head peeking out of the foreskin and weeping precum steadily.
Minthara nodded towards the altar, giving an expectant tilt of her chin. “Lay down,” she said, her voice rough.
“I - what?” Gale was swaying again, a curiously blank expression on his face.
“Lay. Down.”
“Of course,” he murmured, stumbling past her to the altar and lifting himself up to sit on it. He pivoted, pulling his legs up as he did, and finally lowered himself cautiously onto his back, eyes closed.
She hummed in approval, pulling herself up on the altar next to him before swinging a leg across his hips, slowly grinding the ample amount of wetness between her legs against the thick cock waiting for her. Gale’s hips jerked upwards at her touch, and she planted a hand on his chest, pressing him down into the cold stone beneath him.
“Wizard.”
“Ah - yes?”
“Don’t you dare come until I say you can.”
Gale nodded eagerly, a tentative hand gripping one of her thighs as she shifted above him, pressing the blunt head of his cock against her entrance. He sucked his breath in sharply - and then moaned, full-throated and ragged as she sank down on him in one decisive movement.
“Oh,” she gasped, the hand on his chest gripping the hair there sharply. She’d underestimated the wizard, it seemed; his cock was pleasantly thick, stretching her in a delicious fashion. She rocked her hips experimentally, making a garbled noise of pleasure as he slid even deeper. It had been some time since she’d bothered to lay with a man - they were usually more trouble than they were worth - and she tended to forget how good it could feel. To be filled so perfectly, to feel her partner trembling beneath her; it was a beautiful thing, making her head swim as she rocked her hips again, groaning as the head of his cock stroked along the sensitive spots deep inside her.
Perhaps he’d been a good choice after all.
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Gale wasn’t sure if he was in the hells or in Elysium.
Minthara was on top of him, riding his cock like she’d been waiting her whole life to do so. Strands of hair were slipping loose from the messy knot she had her hair pulled back in, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on her skin, making her gleam slightly in the moonlight.
And gods, she felt delicious. Hot and tight around him, perfectly wet and clenching down on him as she moved. He was doing his damndest to keep his head, to stay in control, but Minthara was not making it easy.
He couldn’t come. Wouldn’t. He wouldn’t fail her.
Minthara was grinding down against him, watching him intently with those dark red eyes. She had a hand planted on his chest, her nails digging into the skin and sending sweet spikes of pain down his spine. The stone of the altar was rough against his back, scraping him raw as she rocked back and forth, jostling him as she did.
“I always knew you’d be good for something, wizard,” she panted. “I did not expect it to be this.”
“You’ll find that I’m full of surprises,” he countered, daring to reach up and cup her breasts, smoothing his thumbs over the hardened nubs of her nipples. When she didn’t slap his hands away, he squeezed a bit more, feeling greedy.
Minthara clamped her thighs around his, knees digging into his hips unpleasantly.
He loved it.
“Gods -” he gasped, as Minthara swirled her hips the next time she lifted up before slamming back down against him, the noises between them absolutely obscene. He wanted to kiss her again, even if she kissed him bloody, but he didn’t dare pull her down.
“You can do better,” Minthara hissed, nails gouging into his chest, skating up across his shoulders. “Fuck me.”
Gale took a deep breath, gathering all of his willpower before he reluctantly took his hands off her breasts to grip her hips. He thrust up to meet her movement, the slapping of skin echoing in the deserted temple like an unholy hymn.
He was dangerously close to tipping over the edge, and while everything in him ached to come, he was not sure he wanted to find out what would happen if he did before he’d been given permission. Gale slammed his hips up, his cock buried deep inside Minthara, who was clenching fiercely around him, panting as another peak loomed.
“Gelir enau dakk,” Minthara rasped, her back arching as her thighs trembled around him. He could feel her clenching down on his cock, wetness spreading between them as she shook against him.
Gale whimpered desperately, the thread of self control he had left nearly fraying apart at the sound of Minthara’s native tongue slipping out as she came. He managed, somehow, to keep it together, gripping the base of his cock in an attempt to stave off the orgasm that wanted to rip through him.
Minthara was breathing heavily, leaning down against him for a moment before she pushed herself upright, swinging a leg over him to sit on the edge of the altar. Gale gave her an incredulous look; his cock was soaked with her fluids, rock hard and painful.
“What?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
“I - can I -” He waved a hand at his cock, aching so badly that he wasn’t even sure what to do with himself.
She shrugged carelessly, sliding off the altar and picking up her clothes before starting to dress. “Did I say you could?”
“No,” he admitted, defeat seeping through his veins. “You didn’t.”
“We have much work to be done,” she said, gesturing for him to sit up. She scooped his robe off the dirty stone floor, giving it a considerate shake before she threw it at him. “We shall go to the Underdark first,” she ordered, brow furrowing as she considered their plans. “The battle will be even now.”
Gale’s head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton; his lower abdomen ached as he slowly sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. “What do you mean?” he finally asked, trying to get his thoughts back in order as he realized he was going to be left wanting.
She was pulling her cloak back on before pulling her hair loose, shaking it out in a cloud of white-blonde waves; Gale was momentarily mesmerized by the sight. He’d never seen her with her hair down, and getting a glimpse felt like a gift from his goddess. She smoothed her hair back, pinning it back in place before she picked up her boots, holding them up without a word.
Gale knelt in front of her obediently, helping her slide them back on, letting her rest a careless hand on top of his head for balance as she did. Fully dressed, she stepped away from him, letting her eyes skim over his naked form.
“Get dressed,” she ordered.
He slowly pulled his robe on, trying to tug everything into place before running his fingers through his hair, untangling it as best he could. “I was thinking we could go to Neverwinter,” he said, adjusting the clasp on his shoulder. “There are many followers I could acquire there -”
Minthara slapped him, the palm of her hand cracking across his cheek sharply. Gale gasped, stumbling back in shock.
“The Underdark will be a fortuitous place to start,” he finally said.
The smile that spread across Minthara’s face was all venom and teeth, a terrifying visage. One that sent a shiver down his spine and anticipation curling through his veins.
“Menzoberranzan,” he declared.
“Good boy.”