Cauldron’s Embrace

The Grove lay hushed around us, the nervous chatter of druids and refugees finally gone. The stone paths glowed faint in the setting sunlight spilling through cracks overhead, and the air carried the damp scent of earth after a long day.

Karlach had caught my hand and tugged me toward the kettle, her grin widened the closer we got.

“Bath time, soldier.”

The iron cauldron I’d bargained off Ethel towered in front of us, filled with cold water. I raised a brow. “That's your surprise? We do this every night"

“No. Usually it’s just me, but tonight you'regetting in too.” She peeled off her top in one quick tug, more rough than delicate, like she was irritated at the leather straps. Her hands roamed over her chest, testing the weight of her new curves, not quite used to how much fuller they were. Her fingers twisted, pinched, squeezed, each with a surprised hum that slipped into a grin. “Still figuring these out,” she teased, giving one last squeeze before letting them drop with a sultry roll of her shoulders.

Her skirt dropped to the floor. She gave me a look that dared me to stare, then swung a leg over and stepped into the cauldron. The water hissed against her skin, steam curling up. She winced at the chill, shoulders stiffening. “Cold.” Then she grinned, flashing her sharp teeth. “But don’t worry. Give it a minute—I’ll warm it right up.”

I stripped down naked without ceremony, setting my clothes on a nearby rock. Karlach let out a whistle, eyes dragging over me slowly before meeting mine again. “Gods, yes please.”

I rolled my eyes but stepped in. Reflex had me braced for pain, but it wasn’t pain that met me—just heat, like a bath left running a little too long. Her fire still burned, but my body didn’t flinch anymore.

We settled shoulder to shoulder, knees brushing in the cramped space. Karlach pressed closer, chest flattening against me, heat pouring off her skin in waves. It was like leaning against a forge at full blaze—overwhelming at first, but tempered by the water into something I could withstand. She let out a long breath, eyes falling closed as she let herself sink, sliding lower with deliberate slowness, her breasts dragging across my lap. The movement wasn’t an accident and my body stirred under the pressure. Her eyes flicked down, then back up with a grin that was all hunger and mischief. “Well, aren’t you eager.”

A groan rumbled out of me. “Is this your plan? A boobjob for a boob job..”

“Don’t think I don’t want to,” she rasped, voice low. “But if I get hot and bothered, so does everything else.”

The water bubbled hotter, proof of her words, before she **** it down again with visible effort. Her cheeks flushed, part frustration, part arousal. “Not tonight. Not yet.”

I steadied myself. “Then we don’t.”

Her grin lingered, crooked and tempting. “Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.”

I let my hand trail down her back to the base of her tail and stroked lightly. She jolted, gasping, the sound torn between a laugh and a moan. “Hells, soldier, that’s—aaah!"

“Sensitive?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She bit her lip as I traced again, the shiver running through her impossible to hide. The noise she made was a raw, needy edge. She leaned against me, not chasing it further, just letting herself enjoy it.

We stayed close, hands wandering but never crossing the line. My fingers traced the curve of her spine, the shape of her hip, the twitch of her tail when I hovered too near. Her palms skimmed across my chest, thumbs searching for shy spots, her touch curious and careful. It wasn’t tenderness in the sweet sense—it was want, patient and simmering.

“Ten years,” she murmured after a while, voice rough. “Ten years without this. Just fire, pain, and laughing too loud so I wouldn’t break apart.”

I didn’t answer with anything flowery, just kept my arm firm around her waist. She knew what I meant. Her body relaxed slowly into mine

[Karlach: approves +2]

The water rocked around us, warmer than any natural spring but not dangerous to us. We could have stayed like that until dawn—touching, teasing, together.

Then shouting ripped through the quiet. From the far edge of camp, by Shadowheart’s tent—sharp, rising voices. Hers, edged with bite, and Lae’zel’s, sharp and fierce.

Karlach groaned and sank until the water lapped at her chin. “Of course.” She opened one eye and grinned at me, cheeky despite it all. “Goodnight, soldier. My shift’s done.”

I dragged myself out of the cauldron, water running down my body in rivulets. Clothes went back on fast, half-laced boots and damp shirt sticking to my skin. When I glanced back, Karlach had sunk lower, horn steaming faintly, a blissful grin stretched across her face. She looked utterly content, savoring the touch she’d been craving for years.

I headed toward the tents, the shouts carried clearly now, words biting and clipped, promising a fight if left alone. So much for a quiet night.