“There are children here, you fool!”
The words were spit out before Zevlor’s brain could register just how mad he had gotten. He could practically hear the pressure of his blood pumping rapidly through his veins under the weight of his emotions. Likely, had he not already wore skin as red as a cherry, his face would surely be sporting the color.
In his defense, he was already having a dreadful day before Aradin decided to lead a horde of goblins to the Grove’s front door. Proceeded to get in his face and spout immature nonsense.
“What’s it going to take to shut you up, horns?”
He grit his teeth, both parties stepping even closer to one another. Bracing as they both stood straighter and squared their shoulders back. His tail swung wildly from side-to-side, like an agitated cat, as his fists automatically clenched.
“I love your horns.”
There she was. Her sparkling eyes trained up at him, her smile widening instantly as she placed her hand over his chest and willed him to back down.
Whether it was his head or his heart that still conjured the sight of her, he was not sure. Whether it was stress or old age that caused him to hear her voice still, he may never know. But one thing was certain, the days he felt her touch made him wonder if he was losing his mind altogether.
From the moment he had woke today, she had been there.
His hands gripped her hips, forever pulling her closer as she settled comfortably in his lap. Their chests pressed together as she leaned forward, resting against him for support. Next came the gentle brush of her fingers over his temple, his forehead, the base of his horns; applying just enough pressure to cause a groan to rumble from his chest.
It always sent a shiver up his spine. Goosebumps rippling over his heated skin. His tail would be twitching by the time he wrapped it around her waist, thigh, calf, wherever he could desperately cling to without hindering her movements.
Without failure she would soon be palming his horns with fervor and her breaths would grow shallow. Once she mewled it was over for them both.
Except that she was not here. She was not a comfortable weight against him, nor even a voice truly lifting into the air. It was the boy pup yapping away still, causing the ghost of her visage to fade.
“God forbid you risk your precious tail. But I shouldn’t be surprised. Foulbloods ain’t known for courage.”
“He is just a boy; he knows nothing of what it takes to be a leader. Of the hard decisions and impossible choices you have made. That you still have to make.”
Zevlor knew that. Truly he did.
That did not make his desire to knock Aradin’s teeth down his throat any less.
Though he did manage a chuckle. For as gentle, kind, and caring as she was, if she had heard anybody speak to him in such a way it would have been him holding her back instead. Lifting her tiny frame against his side almost like a mother carrying a child. Despite her likely continued protests.
So he pretended for a moment that it was so, and simply turned and walked away.
***
Sometimes Zevlor saw her when he was working. Rapidly flipping through books and pouring over maps, noting every detail. Trying to figure out every single channel and option he could take to assure his people made it safely to Baldurs Gate.
Of course, she had never left Eltureal.
Or rather, she had never left Avernus.
