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Miri was up late, restless after coming back to camp from her watch duty patrol. She would still be up for a few hours - but this part of the woods on their path to Baldur’s Gate was quiet. Tame. And something about having a safe campsite after those weeks in the Shadow Curse left one feeling…unsettled at sudden quiet and peace.
All of her companions were tucked away in their tents for the night - and if sound was a fair indicator, all quite asleep.
Needing to keep herself busy, but quiet, Miri sits near the campfire, whittling a blade handle from fresh antler. It was meditative work - slow, practiced slides of an obsidian knife over the rough material as she slowly worked it to a polished smoothness. Pausing every so often to test the shape in her grip.
As Miri worked, a faint scent of magic - ozone and something floral- drifted closer to the fire. A moment more, and the source of the scent became apparent as the vibrant blue glow of a familiar mage’s hand came creeping into her personal space.
The hand touches lightly at her back before it slides around her waist, fingers pawing over her stomach.
"Tch-" Miri clicks her tongue, hardly looking up from her focused task as she shoos the spectral hand with a dismissive wave. “Not now.”
It - or its owner- is undeterred, dodging the brushoff to grasp at her pant leg and tug insistently. Miri growls and grabs from it, but the maddening blue thing evades her quickly. Promptly finding a new spot to resume its persistent tugging.
“I am trying to finish this-” Miri grouses, glaring at the offending summon.
Miri tries to deter it, but much the same happens. Numerous times.
When she huffs a growl and decides instead to pointedly ignore it, a second mage hand joins the efforts. When she doesn't respond to their efforts to redirect her, they change tactics too.
The first hand begins moving up from her pant leg, tracing over her knee to slowly slide up her thigh, squeezing appreciatively.
The second slides up her back, starting near her tailbone and tracing up her spine before lightly stroking between her shoulders.
"Ah- fenedhis-" Miri swears, her back arching reflexively. Both gestures she’s intimately familiar with.
Gale watches from his tent, biting his lip in contemplation as he observes her resistance. Stubborn tonight - despite the obvious flush of her cheeks and the tips of her ears.
The initial request had been to encourage her to come to bed. But when she was so resistant - growling and threatening in that maddening mix of fierce and adorable- Gale couldn’t resist escalating. Especially not when she reacts like that.
And as she keeps reacting… well, his spectral hands keep responding.
Miri swipes at them occasionally. But the mage hands move slowly over her body, undeterred. Alternating squeezes and soft caresses.
Finding sensitive spots in a way only Gale knows how - though of course she knew these were his conjuring to begin with.
Miri had intended to finish this haft before retiring for bed. And it was close to done, dammit.
But it feels utterly futile when one mage hand is sliding up the inside of her thigh, another is teasing her breast through her shirt and an unexpected third slides up her throat. Her breath catches and she only just bites back a soft moan.
Gale’s eyes darken as he he watches the way she reacts to his touch. Gods knowing how hard she’s already working to keep from making a sound has him biting his lip in kind. He can almost feel her soft body beneath his palms as he watches her.
He shifts in his bedroll, growing more and more aroused at the sight of her trembling beneath the ministrations of the spectral mimics of his fingers.
"Oh, my love..." Gale whispers, low and reverent, his hand dipping beneath his bedding.
Miri's ears twitch at the soft sound of his voice. She looks up to see him across the campfire, watching her through the gap in his tent door.
"Cheeky..." she gasps breathlessly. Miri starts to squirm under the assault of his magic - knowing how closely he's watching makes every touch feel even hotter.
Gale's eyes gleam with excitement and hunger as he watches Miri submit to the ministrations of his magic. He can't help but grin, shifting in his seat in an attempt to relieve the growing strain of his pants.
Miri gasps as the spectral hands grow bolder, more insistent. The hand at her throat continues upward, tracing a path around the sensitive shell of her ear before pinching the tip.
“Gale-” Miri gasps the involuntary moan - and one of the mage hands seizes the opportunity greedily. Sliding down her cheek to grip her chin and hold her lip open to tease fingers along her tongue.
"Perhaps I should lend a few more hands tonight..." the wizard’s voice dips into something rougher as he continues watching.
A simple gesture from him and still more materialize. Grasping at her wrists to pry her project and knife from her hands and keep her from swatting their attention away. Two more wrap around her ankles to pull them apart.
Hands held behind her back and knees held apart, Miri can do little but submit to his playful attention and magical touches. Not that she’s interested in resisting at this stage.
"That's it, just let go... let me take care of you, Miri," Gale pleads, watching intently as more hands materialize around her. He knows she can hear him from this distance - and he knows how she feels about him begging to please her.
And while he can’t hear her (much) from this distance - he can see the way she shivers and gasps as his conjured appendages roamed her body more than clearly enough.
Hands paw over Miri’s clothes before finally dipping beneath - preternaturally cool fingers exploring the smooth, tan flesh beneath with the wizard’s usual patient, gentle, thorough touch.
Gale works attentively - one hand conjuring and directing, the other orchestrating his own pleasure as he palms his aching hardness.
"You have no idea how delectable you look right now, my love.” His voice sounds rough even to his own ears.
A pair of those blue-purple hands lift her loose camp shirt over her bare breasts, exposing soft skin to the cool night air. Miri swears softly as they promptly cup and knead before teasing the sensitive peaks between spectral fingers.
Miri gasps, gaze flitting up to Gale with steepled brows as the laces of her pants are tugged open, parting the material. A hand promptly slides under her smalls to tease at her slick core.
Miri whines, before biting her lip to try and keep quiet. She can hear the others sleeping - but she's so exposed like this, in the middle of camp and less and less dressed every moment.
Gale lets out a soft groan of his own as he watches Miri writhe under the sensations, her arousal undeniable. His fingers dance through the air and the hands became more precise - circling her nipples, teasing the tips of her ears before to tugging gently.
And most importantly, beneath her smalls, fingers stroke along slick folds with calculated precision.
"Oh, my love...how wonderfully you respond." Gale’s breath is heavy, pushing his breeches down to finally palm himself directly and give himself relief.
Gale’s magic touch grows focused - teasing her folds apart and circling just right at a maddeningly slow pace. Miri's head tips back with a rough, shuddering exhale. Her head spins with the combination of sensations.
Gods, his hands are everywhere...
"Look at you..." he murmurs, voice thick with desire as he stares, rapt. "So beautiful when you unravel like this."
A hand finally dips lower, slipping inside her wet heat as the others continue their attentions elsewhere. His hand strokes his length in time with the ethereal fingers sliding in and out of her core.
Gale's driving her mad - touching her everywhere she's sensitive. All at once. All while she can see him in his tent, stroking himself greedily. She struggles against the noises that his touch pulls from her as the heat in her builds ever high.
When a second hand joins the first inside her smalls it holds her open and teases her clit while the other continues thrusting into her aching core. She only just bites back a loud cry of pleasure - squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip hard.
Gale lets out a breathy chuckle, watching her struggle.
"Oh, love... I know you want to be good and not wake anyone," he teases in a husky whisper, "But the way you're clenching around my fingers-" His own hand moves faster at the thought, "-it's getting harder for me to stay quiet too."
The hands inside her smalls quicken their pace as if in response. He couldn't wait much longer... but he needs her to cave first.
Miri's back arches as she barely holds back her cries, whining through her nose in frantic exhales. She would be falling backwards off the log she sits on if there wasn't a steady mage hand there to brace her.
Gale groans a ragged sound, watching Miri's body tremble with pleasure as he works her relentlessly with those spectral digits. Her hips buck with spasms of pleasure and Gale thinks he might lose his mind completly. His own hand moves frantically, spurred on by the sight.
"I love seeing you like this..." Gale breathes in a ragged whisper. And he knows what it does to her when he talks like that - know it works now when she whines loud enough for him to hear.
The frantic spasms of her hips as his mage hands work her over is evidence enough how close she is. And he won’t stop until she’s spent.
"Come for me, sweet Miri," he pleas through gritted teeth, his own release imminent as he watches her teeter on the edge. "I want to feel it."
Miri's eyes squeeze shut and her mouth opens in a silent scream, her body spasming and twitching as much as the many hands upon her allow. She soaks through the fabric of smalls and trousers as she climaxes hard.
Gale's own body shudders uncontrollably as he watches Miri fall apart beneath his magic. He follows shortly after, spilling himself with a stifled gasp.
The spectral hands vanish one by one. All except the last, which lingers just long enough to pull Miri's shirt back into place with a playful pat before disappearing as well.
His eyes remain fixed on her trembling form as they both try to catch their breath.
"Gods, my love..." he pants, fingers still twitching from release. Gale gives her a lazy, sated smirk from his tent. "Perhaps next time you'll come join me before I resort to such... persuasive measures."
Miri sags to the ground, leaning heavily against the log as she tries to catch her breath.
"Menace," she complains half-heartedly. Not loud enough for him to hear at this distance. But the gesture she makes with one trembling hand is enough to convey her point.
He chuckles at her weary insult. It was a delectably erotic sight, with her thighs slick and trembling.
"Come on, my love. Stop pouting and come to bed," he calls out in a hushed, tone full of eager promise. "I'm not through with you yet."