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"I do not understand the purpose of this." Lae'zel crossed her arms across her chest. "There are many other things we could spend our time on."
Tav shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun and quirked a brow at the githyanki woman. "Astarion is dealing with the Baldur's Mouth… matter. And Figaro Pennygood is on the murder targets list. We're simply handling two things at once. Unless you'd like to go back and wait with Shadowheart in case Astarion gets in over his head?"
"A clothier." Lae'zel's lips pulled down in a frown; the bridge of her snubbed nose drew up with equal displeasure. "I do not understand even remotely why you bother with such intricacies. Clothing should be adequate armor to keep you protected from weather and should be armor otherwise." Her mouth tipped downward further, proving such a thing was possible. She shook her head, beads clicking in her braids. "If we must."
Tav made a soft sound of laughter, quickly smothered by her hand and a feigned cough. Even Karlach would have lunged at the opportunity to find something fun, even if it wouldn't be strictly pretty; the tiefling had a hidden softer side at odds with her fierce barbarian attitude. Lae'zel, on the other hand…
"It won't be that bad. If it will make you feel better," Tav said, meeting the githyanki's golden eyes, "I'll even do a little shopping. Spending a little coin seems to make them feel better about us asking them to take precautions."
Lae'zel rolled her eyes and muttered something in Gith that Tav was thankful not to understand, but she motioned for Tav to precede her along the cobbled streets. The chatter of the city flowed over them and around them as they wove their way through the crowds towards Facemaker's Boutique.
Tav knew she couldn't balk; the minute she slowed her pace, Lae'zel would take it as an opportunity to find something, anything, that would be more pressing. She might even take it upon herself to go find another one of the Bhaalist targets. Lae'zel's eyes darted around the city as though seeking the best escape route.
Lacing her fingers together with the fighter's in what felt like a death-grip but should look to anyone else like merely affectionate handholding between friends or lovers, Tav gently steered Lae'zel on. The githyanki woman's nails dug into Tav's hand, bright dots of pain that retreated quickly.
"What is the meaning of this?" Lae'zel hissed, not quite under her breath as she adjusted her grip—not letting go, no, but allowing Tav to grip her and guide her on. "Do you really believe I would avoid this? It is our duty to deal with him."
Tav's eyes skimmed the plaques as they approached the gardens, wove around the outside. "I'm just making sure nothing distracts you. On mission." She pointed with her chin towards one house. "There. Facemaker's Boutique."
The shop was glorious—mostly empty, which made Tav frown, but not entirely. Staff behind the counter and bustling between the fitting rooms, but no clients. Apparently, the restlessness of the city had sent the usual patrons staying home rather than risk being caught out in one of the quakes. Tav set her shoulders; she was here with a job to do, and an ulterior motive along with it.
The dwarven clothier was not particularly pleased with their announcement, brushing the concern off more flippantly than Tav or Lae'zel would have liked. Lae'zel's lips curled back in a snarl, stilled by a shake of Tav's head.
"We'll make it worth your time, Master Pennygood." Tav pulled out several gleaming coins. "I'd like to do some shopping of my own. If you wouldn't mind?"
The man made the coins vanish into a belt pouch. "It can be done. But if you tear it, if you ruin it, you buy it."
Tav moved into the back room, motioning for Lae'zel to follow her. "I think we can arrange that."
The room was luxurious, the parquet wooden floor with red and gold embroidery, a scattering of screens for people to change behind, fabrics stacked in shelves along one wall. Gowns and robes draped over statues set in other niches. Tav tugged the thick double doors shut and strode to the other side of the room and pulled the curtains closed. It was a beautiful room in a beautiful shop.
Lae'zel crossed her arms over her chest, armor clinking softly. "What are you planning, Tav?" Her eyes skittered over the fabrics, the mannequins and dress forms. "This is beyond warning Pennygood."
Tav met Lae'zel's eyes and tried very hard not to freeze. There was something strange in the githyanki's gaze that Tav had rarely seen, and she could not name it. "Putting my life at risk," she said dryly. She walked to one shelf and lifted something up—a pair of men's smallclothes, red and gold fabric with gold lacing at the front. A pile beside that held what she wanted. She collected a few pairs of women's underthings, underwear with several patterns and designs, and matching breastbands and bras. Tav pivoted around to face Lae'zel's perpetually disapproving gaze.
"Here," Tav said, handing Lae'zel a rainbow of cloth. The afternoon sunlight shimmered on the smooth fabrics, pink and blue and black and red. "Try these."
Lae'zel's face pulled back in another expression of dismay. "Are you truly serious?"
Tav tried to mute her smile. "I am. What you have now is—functional, Lae'zel. And I think you would find that these are not such a dreadful alternative."
"Tsk'va," Lae'zel muttered, plucking at the fabric. "They are so thin. How do they protect against the chafing of armor, add another layer against the blows of your enemies?"
Chuckling, Tav pointed towards a fabric-shrouded alcove. "Try them on. One, at least. I think you won't find it quite as awful as you expected."
With a narrowed, disbelieving gaze, Lae'zel took the pile of fabric and disappeared behind the screen. Lae'zel had already proven she could strip off her armor with speed and skill, and re-arm herself as rapidly when needed; now, she was doing it a snail's pace.
But she hadn't refused, not yet. It gave Tav hope as she dropped into a chair in the corner of the room and resigned herself to waiting.
Minutes later, Lae'zel stepped out, and for once—she was not as utterly confident in her attire as she seemed to be so often. Tav was used to the confidence she exuded in her camp clothes, even in her nudity when the women went to bathe on the road or in camp, away from the eyes of the men in their party. Lae'zel was always comfortable on the battlefield.
But now—in the delicate near-nothing she wore, Lae'zel looked worried.
And she looked spectacular.
Tav exhaled and pressed her thighs together. It wouldn't be obvious in her sorceress' robes. If Lae'zel didn't like them, Tav would buy them on principle just because of how good she thought the githyanki looked in them. None of her straps of black leather here; no, this was soft, smooth dark blue fabric crossed with bands of ribbon that might, if one squinted carefully, bear a resemblance to her former underwear. The breast band was almost precisely that, braided black ribbon and more of the dark blue material. It alluded to what lay beneath more than it actually hid it, cupping and accenting the githyanki's breasts. Both garments clung to Lae'zel's slim frame as though they had been designed for her—or been enchanted to fit the wearer. Given the variety of people in Baldur's Gate, all the possible patrons, Tav wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter.
"This," Lae'zel said, touching one of the bra cups with a finger as though it might bite her, "is… not as terrible as I had believed it would be."
Tav coughed several times. Lae'zel looked amazing in the blue and black, the hues a perfect accent to the yellow-green of her skin, picking up the spots along her hips and shoulders. Tav wanted to stand up and circle Lae'zel, stare at her from all sides, run her hands along the other woman's body, memorize the way the brutal, function-over-form warrior looked in this delicate gossamer confection. Desire washed through Tav again, a slow flush she could feel from her chest to her cheeks, with the echoing twinge in her core.
With another press of her thighs together, Tav tried not to whimper as Lae'zel blatantly ran her hands over her own body, fingers stroking the fabric over her breasts. Tav wished it was her hands doing that, or her breasts being stroked. Or both. Both would be good. Instead, she swallowed thickly and motioned to a beam of the afternoon sunlight pouring liquid gold in through the windowpanes. It ended in a warm gold glow on the floor in front of the couch Tav sat upon.
"Come stand here, would you? In the light?"
"Is not the entire room light?" Lae'zel shook her head, braids shifting and the beads within them clinking. But she approached, standing not quite an arm's length away. "It barely feels as if I am wearing anything at all. Here." She took one of Tav's hands and placed it on her chest, just below her ribs.
The githyanki was warm to the touch, her skin smooth here, where she was usually protected by layers of armor. Tav had often thought of this, running her hands along Lae'zel's skin, counting her spots with lips and tongue. It had filled more of her dreams—and her waking thoughts—than she wanted to acknowledge. And if Lae'zel had even entertained the idea of using the tadpole mind-link to investigate Tav's thoughts…
No. Lae'zel was as subtle as a fireball. Tav would know.
Wouldn't she?
"And then here." And without hesitation, Lae'zel lifted Tav's hand again and placed it square on one of her breasts. "I can barely feel a difference between my skin with and without this. Can you?"
Subtle as a fireball.
Maybe it was worth being just as subtle back.
Tav ghosted her fingertips along the fabric—silk, maybe, or satin?—and watched Lae'zel's eyes. The thin slit pupils seemed to widen in surprise, but her long fingers remained curled around Tav's wrist. Slowly, Tav drew her other hand up and rested it on Lae'zel's hip, fingers curling into the bare skin above the waistband of the delicate underwear.
"I can feel a difference here," Tav said as she caressed the underside of Lae'zel's breast. "It's just different enough. And it looks very, very good on you." Her hand on Lae'zel's hip dug in a little, thumb dipping into the waistband. Did she imagine that ripple of skin under her hand, a little gasp? She pressed her advantage, dragging her fingers back along the soft fabric, careful not to touch Lae'zel's nipple. Tav wanted to save that, maybe find out if Lae'zel could say please, or would just demand it.
The idea of her demanding it sent a wash of heat through Tav as though she'd stood too close to the campfire, embers sparking in her core. It was unlikely she'd ever bring the githyanki to her knees, to see her submit, to beg, but—gods, the thought was pretty. She looked up into Lae'zel's eyes; they were definitely darker now, the bright gaze going a little glassy.
Abruptly the door rattled, Pennygood's voice calling out. "How much longer will you be? I have patrons!"
Tav snapped her head up and strode towards the door. She flipped the latch and cracked it open. "How much for three sets of the ladies' underwear, that cream robe, the blue one, and—" She leaned back into the room, watched as Lae'zel sat on the couch, spreading her legs wide in challenge, turned back to Pennygood, "about one hour of uninterrupted time?"
"We are not a house of—"
"Someone wants to kill you," Tav half-snarled, the words coming out sharper than she'd intended. Her breath hitched in her chest. "Think about this as us paying for lost time so you can avoid dying. And to design more clothing." She fumbled in her belt pouch, pulling out a fistful of gold coins and a pair of gems Gale had identified as sapphires. "This should more than cover potential lost sales."
Pennygood looked at the coins thrust into his hand, his eyes narrowing with renewed consideration. "On second thought, it might be a good time to close up shop for the day. Perhaps I'll go bother Carmen and see if she's actually managed to do anything with that so-called shop of hers."
Tav retreated behind the door, flipping down a bar to lock it, before she turned back to Lae'zel.
The githyanki woman was cupping one of her own breasts, a thumb idly flicking over her nipple beneath the fabric, the blue panties going dark in the front before Tav's very eyes.
"Are you finished, or are you going to continue to find some excuse not to do what we both want?" Lae'zel canted her head to one side, her other hand curling over the edge of the plush couch. "You want me. I can taste it on you, smell it on you. Why do you deny what you wish to take?"
"I don't want to," Tav said, striding back towards Lae'zel. She was wet beneath her robes, body clenching and hungry. "You look very good in those. And we are buying them—if only because no one could sell them, now." She dropped to her knees between Lae'zel's legs, pressing her mouth to the githyanki's mound. The lithe, lethal figure decorated in scraps of satin and gossamer-thin silk turned Tav's blood to fire. Lae'zel smelled like arousal, sweat and the peculiar odor unique to githyanki that defied description, like lightning and rain and the tang of metal.
Lae'zel moaned, not bothering to stifle the sound. She fisted her hand in Tav's hair, nails grazing her scalp with a delicious scratch. Tav bit back her own moan, muffling it against Lae'zel's cleft. Convinced she could feel blood-swollen folds against her face, Tav dragged her teeth gently down the damp blue satin and was rewarded again with a rough sound of pleasure.
The minute addition of the fabric, the way it darkened beneath her mouth and from Lae'zel's own evident desire, did things to Tav she hadn't expected. It had been a hope—a moment to see Lae'zel find that, just perhaps, she liked pretty things. That she might have a weakness for them. Instead, it was Tav herself come undone at the sight of them, worshiping at Lae'zel's own altar.
Tav adjusted her position, sliding one of her hands between her own thighs. She stroked her clit, jolts of pleasure slamming through her system as she rubbed and stroked, teased and pressed. Her nose, her mouth, was full of satin and arousal and Lae'zel, need keening its way through her system. Her fingers moved along her slick folds, driving herself higher and higher into the throes of pleasure. She slid two fingers into herself, fastening her lips around Lae'zel's clit and sucking hard. Tav flicked her tongue to the rhythm of her fingers thrusting inside herself, bringing herself closer and closer to her peak.
For all her composure on the battlefield, Lae'zel had none of it when it came to bedsport. She growled low in her throat, rolled her hips against Tav's face, traced the shell of Tav's ear in a way that implied it should be a far more erogenous zone than Tav usually found it. Lae'zel dug a hand into Tav's hair to keep her still as Lae'zel rode her face to a muscle-clenching orgasm accompanied by a torrent of Gith. Tav's ears rang, though from Lae'zel's cries or her thighs, she was not sure.
"Enough," the warrior rasped an eternity later, tugging Tav's head away from her with surprising gentleness. She lifted her hips, peeling off the sodden smallclothes and dropping them on the floor. "I begin to understand why you enjoy these things so much. They are perhaps not so bad as I expected. They might even be considered tools, weapons in their own right. I should like to find other times to wear them. Perhaps your istik foolishness is not so purposeless after all, if it can bring one like you to her knees." Lae'zel hummed softly to herself in thought, the consideration sparking something in her face. "Three pairs may not be quite enough for what I have in mind."