AN: yeah, my frickin PC's C Drive died on me and for 2 weeks, I was worried I'd lost everything and would have to start over all the notes/brainstorming I had for this story! Thankfully, I didn't, but it was a humbling experience lol oh, and on top of that (not even the half of it though) my entire family had covid, so there's that. But I am back, feeling much better and ready to keep writing/posting.

IMPORTANT: I'm changing her last name from Finchleywyn to Finchley. It no longer made sense for the storyline I had in mind and the more I looked at it the more I hated it. Please forgive me. Also, if anything stands out as inherently wrong or false when it comes to the lore of bg3 and stuff, please let me know. I would rather write something that makes sense and leans more toward canon rather than the opposite. It's my fault for not finishing the game but I just haven't been able to yet, but I have been doing a bit more research about wood elves and learned a lot. I hope if I make any mistakes that it doesn't take away from the story xx

The Fighter's Rogue Rose
Chapter Three: If You're Nice
-\-O-/-

How mad had it been that he'd just happened to get himself wedged directly between the little elf's parted legs? With a great discipline he wasn't used to having, Aradin had held back his arousal while perched on top of her for as long as he could. She'd smelled heavenly, like a bucketful of sweet flowers. He didn't know what kind. He'd never cared to go around smelling them nor giving them thought at all, but great hell's, Aradin couldn't get enough of whatever it was, whatever she was.

She had whimpered, flexing and shivering, a wanton ache and he'd instantly lost focus. As soon as he felt himself stiffening, he backed off. She hadn't seemed to notice though.

Lorraine seemed so innocent, naïve – untouched. He had to wonder…

And ever since the encounter, Aradin had been at a constant, painful half-mast. He watched attentively her curvaceous backside as he followed, studying the mouthwatering shape of her through the outlines of her formfitting trousers.

She was small and thin, but durable and nimble, like a cat. Her thighs, he'd felt them squeeze around his hips and he'd instantly felt willed to take her right there, goblins be damned.

Thank the gods he had even a little wits about him.

Aradin raged within. He felt like a savage, fingertips tingling, a dog with a one-track mind. He had a lot of pent up tension and nowhere to put it, blood rushing to all the wrong places. He genuinely hoped they could stumble upon a little trouble soon, for a battle to ensue, if only so he could blow off some of the steam.

-\-O-/-

Lorraine was a virgin, though she hardly knew how she'd made it this long without giving away her maidenhood. Perhaps it was just because it was how she'd been raised, her now dead, or estranged family members and advisors constantly judging her, breathing down her neck to make sure she never crossed over the wrong path, became a 'trollop', as they'd say.

Bristolwood Hall was a moderately large, heavily fortified castle well-secluded in the forests, far beyond Baldur's Gate. It was a beautifully designed estate, a thousand years old and had been the home of her family for eleven generations on her father's side.

Lenny never left court as a child, was not allowed to have too much fun, or any fun at all, really, having been mostly raised by her Aunt Olaer and Uncle Pierce. To make it all worse, Lenny hadn't met many boys her age during her youth, only family and much older Lords of the court. She never minded so much, not about remaining a maid until she was wed, never minded that she never got to meet boys or 'date around', and then she left home at eighteen.

She'd had many a protector, friends and companions from many different backgrounds she had met along the way who watched over. They had kept her out of any real trouble and were frequently the eyes at the back of her head guiding her safely.

After all that time, sex was not something she ever gave a great deal of thought to, something she considered a minor importance and more often than not, strayed away from. All Lenny had cared for was surviving day to day, turning a profit and becoming the best fighter, trader, thief, and assassin she could be.

That was until she began traveling with Astarion, Shadowheart and the others.

Just about every single one of her companions had come onto her, in one way or another, or at least, had fancied her from a distance.

She had found herself wrapped up in a few passionate cuddles with Astarion as she had allowed him to feed on her every so often. When the handsomely pale vampire had learned that Lenny had never shared a true kiss with someone before, he had offered himself up on a silver platter, which of course, she'd accepted.

Astarion taught her how to kiss, how to share a tender moment with someone, a lover, if she ever so desired. He had been very respectful and kind, and generous in his touch. Lenny cared for Astarion very much.

But throughout all her travels, she had never felt ready enough, nor felt something real enough with another person – that special someone – to warrant giving away her innocence.

Never.

Yet now…

Aradin was so, everything she had dreamed in a man, er, well, only if she were talking about his good looks anyway. If it weren't for his arrogance, the bossiness, his brash attitude and racist remarks, among a whole list of other downsides, Aradin could have been just the type of strapping young man to bring home to mum – if she still had a mother, that was.

Or maybe she was getting it all wrong. Maybe she was just a stupid little girl, like he said.

As Lenny slept that evening, vivid visions, flashes of a giant ruby. It was blood red but shined black and orange, the crystal she was searching for. It was surrounded by fire, a citrine sunburst, lightning waves of flames licking the sides of the granite pedestal in which the large gem lay perched on. Brief images of a fiery bird with beautiful, long feathers which mirrored the precise sheen of the lost ruby.

-\-O-/-

Aradin awoke out of the blue, sweaty and uncomfortable. It was still twilight, minutes before the break of day. He rolled himself until he was sitting up, pressing a palm to his temple, clammy and warm against the cool breeze. He ripped off his long-sleeved, white tunic and allowed the fresh air to saturate his skin. It was only a mild reprieve from the heat that evaded his suddenly alert body.

He stared around to make sure there wasn't a great reason for his heightened senses, looking for any animal intruders or others that meant harm. Yet Aradin saw nothing but the moonlight shining over the beckoning creek.

Lorraine remained dozing, though she seemed just as uncomfortable, the top of her brow too, beaded with perspiration. He wondered what nightmarish visions, if any, plagued her. Had the things she done haunted her the way his sins had him?

He wanted to know her.

Whatever happened to her parents? What was growing up for her like as a wood elf at a human run court? When she ran from home, had she ever lived with other elves like her, or druids even? She wasn't like any wood elf Aradin had ever met, not that he'd met a great many. Her background had vastly differed from theirs. Most of them were unsociable and took to the forests. They didn't much like the cities and found them to be little more than affronts to nature, but unlike her counterparts, Lorraine seemed more easily adapted to the urban – a wandering trader for hire.

Just then, she moaned lightly in her sleep and the deeply sensual sound of it broke him. Aradin jumped up, peeling down his trousers and waded into the creek until his whole body had fallen, submerged into the icy cool waters.

He sighed in relief, washing away yesterday's dirt and sheen of sweat.

-\-O-/-

The sunlight was just peeking over the horizon when Lenny opened her eyes, the faint glimmer of splashing water in the distance rousing her to awareness. Was someone in the river? Her senses were alerted, and Lorraine snapped up to see an unexpected but not completely unwelcome sight.

Aradin was shuffling through the creek as if he had just been about to emerge but stopped once he noticed she was awake. His chiseled physique invaded her gaze, rippling muscles under taut tanned skin. Her stare was instantly drawn to the fuzzy brown trail leading down the middle of his belly to below the water, his lower abdomen fully accentuated by a sharp prominent triangle.

Her eyes widened and she flushed embarrassingly, quickly looking away. Aradin grinned, totally unmortified. He continued his foray out of the creek and Lorraine clenched her jaw in agony, shielding her face. "What?" He questioned, all too smug. "I'm sure it's nothing you haven't seen before, though I'd wager nothing… quite like what I've got," he sniggered inwardly.

Lenny was grimacing in mild disgust. "Ugh! Please, no!" She couldn't believe the torture! "I have never – only ever on accident!"

Aradin momentarily ceased his walking, a light surprise taking over him, but deep down he'd known. It had been sort of obvious in a way. It was like he could smell it on her. "I fuckin' knew it." He smirked and as she fumed tempestuously, he picked up and redonned his trousers without caring to dry himself.

"Just shut up."

She wanted to scream. How was it that everybody she came across in her life cared so much about whether she'd done it? Everyone was always either looking out for her to make sure she didn't or asking her questions about herself or attempting to be the first one under her skirt. Why did everyone care about it so much? It was only sex, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

And yet, all the same, if it was just sex, then did it really matter if she just went and finally did it? She might as well have already, ten times over. She could have had any one of her companions, and a few past admirers before them too.

Was it really so bad to wish for something more… special? The incomparable rush of real love, she wanted that so direly, but what if there was no such thing? She'd always believed there was, after learning her parent's story and maybe it could be true for some people but what about her? When would she know if it was right?

"Let's get a move on," she grumbled, making sure to keep averting her gaze from his supremely attractive body as he lazily procrastinated, idling by the water without a shirt on.

"If you don't bathe, you're going to start stinking worse than the goblins,"

Lorraine glared at him haughtily, then feigned an overtly puzzled expression, her tone only somewhat flirtatious. "Hm. You seemed to like the way I stunk yesterday. Thought you were going to start groping me."

Aradin's brows rose, snorting derisively as if he found it very humorous. "I bet you bloody wish it, don't you? Trust me, lass, the last thing I'd want to be groping is you."

She rolled her eyes, and though his words slightly stung she did not quite believe them. "Are you trying to convince yourself that?"

"Pfft, pleeaase." He denied exaggeratedly and Lorraine shrugged.

"Whatever you say." She grabbed her things and hid behind a tree to change.

I'm not going to stink, arsehole, she seethed inwardly and after undressing, lathered herself with a fresh summer lilac and white peony butter of her own making. Lorraine was quite advanced at alchemy, often mixing up her own creations using all natural ingredients, many of which were hair and skincare products. It was one of her favorite pastimes and she made a lot of coin from doing so. Her products were fairly popular in several diverse villages across Faerun. The people who bought them had even given them a general nickname – the good stuff, and someday soon, when Lenny was free of her uncle, she wanted to open up her own apothecary of sorts.

So, smell bad, she would not.

Though some of her outfits needed washing, so she put on clean garments, doing some stretches and preparing mentally for the rest of the day. She remembered the visions of her dream, the jewel, the sunbursts of flames, and the fiery bird. It encouraged her, having little doubt that they would succeed in obtaining the ruby.

As long as they kept their pace, they should get to that old, ruined goblin encampment by sundown. They might've taken the long way 'round, but she had wanted to avoid the more populated regions. It was a relief the encampment was already entirely decimated, thanks to her and her friends, so she and Aradin should encounter no problems getting through and down into the passage to the Underdark.

-\-O-/-

"Which feckin' way are we even going?" Aradin asked, his brogue thick and bursting with annoyance.

"We're skirting past the wetlands under the side of the mountains." She answered matter of fact, not understanding why the man was so wound up. Lorraine thought it had been pretty obvious which path they'd be taking.

"'Got to take a piss," he mumbled and turned away from her, undoing the front of his pants and relieving himself over the cliff. "Ahhh…"

Lorraine kept on meandering ahead, unfazed. She was used to men and their ways by now, accustomed to surviving in the wilds side by side with others, though Aradin didn't have to announce it every time he needed to go.

To her sudden delight, she noticed a small patch of flora, two belladonna and several bunches of white peonies. "Ooo, yes!" It was like a jackpot. Lenny knelt by them, plucking them one by one and lodging them neatly into her alchemical pouch inside her rucksack. She held the last peony to her nose, the softness of the petals brushing her face as she inhaled the succulent sweet scent of the large and lovely, ivory blossom. "Mmm." It was one of her favorites.

As Aradin approached tentatively behind, the sweet divine smell of a luscious garden engulfed him. He stood close enough to tell that it wasn't just the flora that charmed and fogged his senses. It was almost precisely the same scent he'd indulged from her yesterday. "Is this how you smell so good?"

Lorraine lightly squeaked, shocked that for once she'd been snuck up on. Aradin's lips twitched but he held back the smirk. Her brows fused together, anxious by his close proximity. "I thought you said I didn't."

Aradin's face remained smooth and unchanged, his glittering eyes glued onto hers, making it very difficult for her to look away. "No. What I said was I didn't want to grope you."

Her face felt hot and there was a distracting lump caught in her throat. To make up for not knowing what to say or how to ease the tension, Lorraine held the flower underneath his face. Skeptical, Aradin stared at it for a second and then back at her before closing his eyes and reeling in the scent.

He allowed it to saturate his entire being and was surprised to feel bits of his inner worries collapse and melt away. Aradin had to admit, it'd calmed him down significantly, which said a lot for him. His aura had literally changed, and even she had noticed as his shoulders slumped slightly with relaxation.

"Hmm…" she began, feeling a pitch coming through. "You know, I could easily make for you some butter, or some easing oils. I really like easing oils. You just take a small amount, like a droplet or three, and rub them against your wrists, and your neck and such, around the sides of your face and collarbone. If you find yourself getting too, you know, a-angry or what have you, the oils will calm your senses."

Aradin seemed actually interested. A memory had struck him. He had forgotten… his mother had used something similar for both herself and him when he was a kid. Though whatever his mum used had always smelled more musky or minty, like either smoky frankincense, myrrh, or something like eucalyptus when he was ill.

"What, and you can make these oils?" he queried, taking the flower as she handed it to him.

"Yes, its one of my things I do."

"One of your things you do." He parroted, a thick brow arched, and she scoffed, a small smile, rolling her eyes.

She continued trekking and he followed, holding the flower as if it were his new life force. "Maybe I'll make you some, if you're nice to me."

"I'm… nice." He even said it unsurely, because he knew he could be rotten.

"Indeed."

"My…" Aradin stopped as soon as he'd began.

Lorraine turned around, brimming with anticipation. "Go on."

His gaze suddenly shone with a hint of sadness. "It's nothing."

"You can tell me." She encouraged warmly and after a moment, he proceeded to tell her about his mum and how she'd used those oils of her own.

"I remember liking those ones," he told her, the white peony still his main focus. "But I dunno, this one right here takes me to a different reality."

"It's called a white peony, if you didn't know. 'My favorite too, if you don't count summer lilacs. Both of them I use for my special butter."

"Special butter," he chuckled, stopping her before she went on walking. She peered up at him, confusion etching her features. He towered over her, gently pushing her hair behind her ear while attempting to press the large peony in place. It would not stay, because it was such a big bulky thing.

Aradin was about to feel disappointment when, with an air of pride, Lorraine retrieved from her bag, a crown of sorts, one that looked handmade with woven twigs and clover. Here or there on it, were tiny little white and pale pink flowers growing from within the twigs. "I fashioned this myself," she said as she pressed it over the top of her head. She took the peony and placed it properly into the crown. "See?"

"Clever," he replied, impressed by her innovation.

She grinned, having now undone her long braid and allowing her wavy tendrils to fall freely behind her. When she wore her hair down, Lorraine liked to wear the flower crown to keep the annoying bits out of her face. It did fall down past her hips, after all, and could be highly unmanageable, but she'd never lob it off. Her long locks were a part of her.

Seeing her beautiful, nougaty hair down like that for the first time, Aradin so close, had felt overcome. Her eyes grew as his hand rose up into her messy tendrils, shaking lightly with trepidation as he twirled a handful of it around his fingers and pressed ever nearer. He stared down with his hooded gaze, gait unhinged and indecisive.

"What are you – "

As soon as he'd been on her, he'd backed off, a question ringing from his tongue. "And what about your mother?"

"I – pardon?" She stuttered. His frequent forthrightness could be so jarring. "What about my mother?"

"Oh, I dunno. Never mind, actually," he said, seeing her face and realizing the mistake. "Forget I asked."

Lenny exhaled. It wasn't his fault. It's not like he knew, how could anyone know? "There's honestly not much to tell. My mother and father are both gone, a long time ago. Shipwreck, as it were. Or at least, that's what they told me… I was five."

"I'm… sorry." Aradin told her and Lorraine could tell that he actually meant it. "Do you think they were lying about the shipwreck?"

"I'm not sure," she said, pursing her lips. "Something about it all seemed… fishy. It happened right before my parents were going to move us away from court, to find our own piece of land just the three of us. I don't think my uncle wanted us to leave."

"I see. Well, it certainly does raise some questions."

"It does."

"If you ever want help, you know, finding out what really happened, maybe getting revenge, I could lend a hand for that."

Lorraine looked stunned. "Really?"

Aradin shrugged. "Yeah, why not?"

"Well, I – thank you, Aradin." There was a pregnant pause or two, more questions stirring in the air between them as they walked onward. "What about your parents?" She wondered aloud.

He kicked a small rock with his foot, sending it over the edge of the ravine. "Dead, same as you."

She'd had a feeling that might be the case. There were a lot of orphans littered about the continent. "What happened?"

"Father died in battle; I was ten. My mother, fever took her just before I turned fifteen. Been on my own ever since."

That explained a lot.

Perhaps that'd been why Aradin was so hotheaded and foolhardy. He didn't have a mother or father during those very formative teen years, and probably did not have many looking out for him. He'd likely been all alone.

Her heart pained for him. There had been times she'd been alone, but never for long. Lorraine had almost always had somebody around, somebody who usually cared too much about her. Aradin was rough, and not just around the edges, but maybe that was because he needed a little more help, more compassion.

She found she wanted to give that to him.

Maybe.

If he was nice.

-\-O-/-

AN: it's short, but I had covid until recently. I have a good excuse this time. Pretty please read my AN at the beginning if you haven't XD thank you so much for existing, cheers hennies xx