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Sandcastles and Fireworks	By : DarklingWillow & BronxWench Category: +M through R > Neverwinter Nights Views: 1524 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own Neverwinter Nights, nor the characters from it. We do not make any money from the writing of this story. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter List
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Bronwen opened the door to her personal suite with an old-fashioned brass key, having welcomed the last of the retreat’s guests. She had more than enough time for a relaxing shower before she dressed for drinks and dinner, although she would need to find her wandering elves before she went up to the roof. She had a rooftop terrace of her own, of course, but it was screened for privacy from the rest of the roof.
Vale looked up from where he sprawled across the enormous sofa in the living room, a tulip-shaped champagne flute with a generous amount of Armagnac in his hand. A book was tossed onto the floor, and the elf’s bright blond hair was spread out beneath his head as he regarded Bronwen with amusement.
“Has everyone arrived, my lady?” Vale swung his legs off the couch, sitting up with fluid grace. “Shall I scrub your back, or is it Sand’s turn?”
“Such a cheeky creature. Mind your manners.” Bronwen poured herself a glass of rich, dark wine from a decanter on the bar. It was a vintage no one on Earth would recognize, but one she had enjoyed for as long as she cared to remember. “Where is my darkling elf?”
Vale shrugged. “I have no idea. If I had to guess, I’d say he was in the spa. You know how he loves those massages, and the hot tubs. He’ll be back in time to change for your dinner. Are you really going to make us wear those skirt things?”
“Kilts, darling. They’re kilts, and yes, you are wearing them. You’ll both look utterly delicious in kilts. And before you say it, the green in the kilt flatters your eyes.” Bronwen picked up the phone on the desk, waiting only a moment before speaking. “Would you please call the spa, and see if Sand Iradil might be persuaded to come upstairs? Thank you, my dear.” She replaced the receiver. “Don’t be difficult, all right? You’re supposed to be my pets for the week. Try to act like it. You’re superb at pretending, and Sand, well, he’s been pretending for far too long as it is.”
Vale made a small noise of derision. “You’re not encouraging me at all, you know. I like to be difficult. There’s no fun in capitulating to your every whim.” He took a long drink from his glass of Armagnac, and purred a little. “There are some advantages to this plane of existence. We should bring some of this back with us.”
The door opened, and another elf strolled in, lithe and elegant. “Drinking without me, my sun? Did you at least save me a glass?” His raven hair was braided at the temples, the braids decorated with beads of lapis and silver, matching the silvery-grey spa robe trimmed in navy silk, which was apparently all he was wearing.
“Well, as long as I’m your sun, I suppose I can share.” Vale rose and poured another flute of Armagnac, offering it to Sand with a small bow. “For you, my moon.”
Bronwen shook her head. “You traipsed through the hotel in nothing more than a robe? What am I going to do with you?”
“For a start, you can go and shower, and leave me with my beautiful Vale for a few moments. We can have a quiet drink before you parade us about in your woolen skirts and linen shirts open to our navels. At least we will be allowed to wear proper boots, and not those ridiculous woolen leg things and ghillies, like strumpets.” Sand took the glass from Vale, pulling the blond elf close for a tender kiss.
“But no smallclothes,” Vale murmured, returning the kiss. His free hand slid around Sand’s waist, almost possessive. “Not that you seem to have a problem with that.”
“I will not consider that a complaint.” Sand slid his fingers into Vale’s wavy golden hair, equally possessive.
“You’ll both look wonderful in the kilts, like proper pets.” Bronwen’s voice held equal parts of amusement and affection as she looked at the elven couple. “It might even be fun. Some of the other writers might allow you to play with their pets, which could be amusing, don’t you think?” She laughed as Vale waved her off, his mouth captured in another kiss.

Of course the elves required showers after Bronwen was finished, and of course their shower took twice as long as hers, as they discovered the various body washes and shampoos supplied by the hotel. She was dressed, and her makeup done before they emerged, her simple black sheath and graceful black pumps accentuated by tasteful diamond earrings and a delicate pendant in the shape of a dragon, the scales picked out in rubies, and a yellow diamond for the eye.
“Pretty.” Vale flicked the pendant with a slim finger, and Bronwen’s hand shot out to wrap around his wrist.
“No rings, my sweet pets. You are not a bonded pair for this week.” Bronwen arched a brow and released Vale, holding out her hand for the pair of gold rings the elves wore on their forefingers. She ignored Sand’s frown, putting the rings into her dresser. “You’ll get them back when we’re leaving, I promise. You’ve been through enough, and I won’t be that horrid to you.”
“How do you manage this mass of wool?” Sand demanded, holding up the kilt. “Is this even the correct way? Do I wrap it and attempt to belt it into submission?”
“I’ve never heard you grumble about clothing before, my wizard,” Vale said, sounding gleeful. He picked up his own kilt, looking it over before wrapping it around his slim waist. “See? There are straps, and they fit through the side of the kilt here. The pleats are in the back, like this.” Vale fastened the straps on either side of his kilt, smoothing the front carefully.
Sand arched a brow. “That is lovely, my sorcerer, but you have forgotten your shirt. You will need to tuck that in, lest you look unseemly.” He buttoned his linen shirt as far as was possible, a generous amount of his pale chest showing. “Is it really necessary to expose so much of me? Are we on offer, Bronwen?”
“Only if you want to be.” Bronwen watched Sand wrap his kilt, admiring the way it sat on his slim waist, and accentuated his legs. “Are you going to glamour your scars?”
“I should, do you not agree?” Sand peered down the front of his shirt, as if he were looking for scars. “If we are expected to be decorative ornaments, perhaps I should not flaunt the evidence of my less than decorative past.”
Vale tucked his shirt into his kilt. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to let people know how poorly you duck when you meet a dragon.”
“There was no opportunity to duck,” Sand retorted, but he sounded more amused than irritated. “She was rather faster than I expected, although I was still casting as she brought her foot down onto me. I have always been grateful for the rock which prevented her from flattening me completely.”
The raven-haired elf tilted his head. “Which leads me to a question. Should I use my name, or should I use something more elven, at least for this week?”
“I like Sand,” Bronwen said firmly. “We can call you Fred if it’s too much for you to manage, though.” She did laugh when she saw the elf’s expression. “Find your boots, you gorgeous things, and we’ll go up to the roof for drinks.”

“You’re strangling me,” Kansas squeaked in a funny voice, giggling sweetly when Satoshi shot him a glare over Yuji’s shoulder.
“Stop encouraging him, Sweets,” Satoshi ordered, and Yuji groaned as Satoshi tightened the tie around Yuji’s neck.
Kansas made a comical gagging sound, then grabbed his own throat and fell backwards on the couch, making dramatic choking sounds, then squeaked again, “You’re strangling me, I’m dying, I can’t breathe.”
“I am not that bad,” Yuji cried out, and turned on his heel to swat at the young man pretending to die on their couch, but his other hand shot up to tug on the perfect knot.
Satoshi gasped and swatted at Yuji’s hand, hard enough to make a loud smack. “Don’t you dare, you… you… imbecile. That took me fucking ages,” he growled, and Yuji gave him a hard glare.
“I’m still going to choke to death, it’s so tight,” Yuji grumbled, and tugged a little on the tie, making Satoshi frown hard.
“You’re not going to choke to death,” Willow said as she came sashaying out of the bedroom, her auburn hair falling in thick waves down her back, her dark crimson swing dress flattering her in all the right ways. She stuck one finger into the collar of Yuji’s shirt and slid her finger back and forth to demonstrate. “As long as you can do that, you will not choke, no matter how hard you try to. Now you, Sweets,” she continued and turned to the giggling youngster, and grabbed his foot to tickle the sole. “Put on your damned socks and shoes. You’re not going to the dinner barefoot.”
“But shoes make me trip over my feet,” Kansas objected, putting on a cute face to see if he could not make Willow feel sorry for him.
“They do not,” Willow said as she lowered his foot down on the couch, and leaned closer to flick his nose lightly. “You prance around in platform boots heavier than you yourself are, or heels so high that I don’t even dare to wear them without risking breaking my neck. So, you will not trip and fall over your own two feet if you wear regular Oxfords. We spent a lot of money getting you those shoes, so you better wear them. I had to get another advance to get you all dressed up.”
Kansas sat up and wrapped his arms around Willow’s neck, giving her a light squeeze and his voice was back to his usual husky voice when he whispered in her ear. “Thank you, Akane, for taking such good care of me. I’ll be a good boy and put on my shoes.”
“Thank you, my little darling. And please try to wear them, for most of the night at least?” she answered and kissed his cheek, smiling when he nodded and promised to try as he slid off the couch and went to find the socks and shoes.
Meanwhile Willow turned to her husband and their pierced lover, and pursed her lips as she studied them with narrowed eyes. Satoshi had combed his thick evergreen colored hair down, tucking it behind his pierced ears, although the heavy black bangs were hanging perfectly over his right eye. He’d chosen to wear his contacts for the night, and Willow liked it, since he had put in regular contacts, instead of the color contacts he so often liked to wear. His suit was plain and black, but underneath he was wearing a gorgeous dark green shirt, with a tie in green, silver and black.
Yuji on the other hand had chosen dark grey suit pants, with a white shirt, a solid silver grey tie with a lighter grey jacket on top.
“I look ridiculous,” he said with a sigh, but Willow shook her head and tugged him down for a kiss.
“You do not look ridiculous. You look gorgeous, utterly gorgeous. Is that your wedding jacket?” Willow asked, running her hand down the lapel, then up again to tug on the shoulder a little.
“It is,” Yuji admitted, looking down at himself, and tugging on the hem to make the jacket sit straight. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? I should have gone and bought a new suit. I just thought this would be more appropriate for first impressions, really. I’ve got the black suit, and the blue suit too. You packed all of them.”
“I love this, Yuji. It’s perfect,” Willow said and stopped her husband’s babbling with a kiss. “I just thought it looked a little bigger on you than I remembered it. Nevermind, you look utterly glorious. Now, let’s go, if the little one has his shoes on.”
“He’s got them, I’ll help him,” Satoshi said and hurried to the entrance of the room to find Kansas, and his own shoes.
Yuji looked down at his wife, stroking her left hand, now empty of any rings. His own hand was as bare as hers, but Satoshi and Kansas had chosen to still wear their slim rose gold bands, hidden behind large rings of scary skulls. “I love you,” Yuji said quietly, and Willow turned to smile up at him.
“I love you too, Hayashi Yuji, with all of my heart,” she whispered back and rose up on her toes to kiss him. “Are you alright?”
“I’m good, I promise,” Yuji said, kissing his wife again. “I guess I’m just jetlagged. I couldn’t get much sleep with Kansas waking me up every five minutes to show us something new he’d found. It’s unfair that he doesn’t get jetlagged.”
“Oh, he will. Trust me, we’ll be carrying him to bed before the dinner is even finished, he’s going to crash so hard,” Willow said and kissed Yuji one more time. “Now, let’s go, before we’re late, alright?”
Yuji smiled and bowed to his wife, offering her his arm, and then led her to the entrance where they found their shoes, and their little lovers giggling at each others’ shoes. Then Willow led the way to the elevators and up to the top floor, where they followed the beautiful sign which pointed them towards the bar.
Willow smiled her most beautiful as she entered on Yuji’s arm, and for a moment, Yuji could really believe that she was a princess born of the fairies of Ireland. As they entered the large bar, Kansas gasped softly and Yuji looked away from his wife, and froze in his steps, his eyes growing wide in wonder. Before them was a gathering like Yuji had never seen before. There were most certainly writers there, a couple he had even seen before in pictures and in person. But among them there were creatures. He had no other word for it. There were elves, more beautiful than the sun itself, and dark knights cloaked in shadows, small faeries with glittering wings, and some beings that he just simply did not know the words for.
“Another plane, my love, another plane,” Willow whispered with a sweet giggle, and tugged him onwards, smiling when she noticed Bronwen in the crowd. Behind them Satoshi gasped in wonder, and then Kansas squeaked happily.
“There she is.”
“There’s who?” Satoshi whispered back, craning his neck to see over Yuji’s shoulder.
“The dragon lady,” Kansas whispered again and bounced on his toes, only to squeak when his feet did betray him and he slipped a little on the highly polished floor.
Bronwen smiled as Willow entered the rooftop restaurant, the cocktail area decorated with lush plants and softly glowing lamps. The air was scented with something wonderfully exotic, not quite jasmine, but still delicately floral. The writers and their guests were sipping drinks, and attentive waiters circulated with trays of small appetizers representing the best of a dozen culinary traditions. Vale and Sand stood behind her, flanking her, graceful in their kilts and polished boots. Vale’s skin glowed golden against the crisp white of his linen shirt, while Sand was scarcely any darker than the snowy linen, only the faint blue of a vein darkening his alabaster skin.
“Vale, my pet, that’s Willow Archer, the author who wrote that lovely story for you. We have to go and say hello.” Bronwen started to walk toward Willow, the crowd parting instinctively as she passed them. “Look at you all,” she said, her voice warm. “You all look gorgeous. Willow, that dress is simply stunning.”
Vale and Sand had stopped, remaining behind Bronwen, but they could not hide their curiosity as they looked at the lovely auburn-haired author and her three handsome men. Vale reached up, and tucked his wavy mane behind one gracefully pointed ear, his smile sweet and surprisingly youthful. Behind the safety of Bronwen’s back, he reached out to brush his hand against Sand’s hand.
“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your pets. Allow me to introduce mine.” Bronwen turned and placed a hand on Sand’s arm. “This is Sand Iradil, a wizard of my acquaintance, and I think you know Vale Anorongil, at least by reputation.”
Sand bowed with superb grace, his indigo eyes fixed on Willow. “Greetings, my lady.” He straightened up, the beads in his braids clicking quietly. “I am both honored and enchanted to meet you. I have read your work, and enjoy it.”
Vale blushed just enough to flush his cheeks with a faint glow. “I’m very happy to meet you, Miss Archer.” He also bowed, as graceful as Sand, and his kilt swung just a little as he stood. “I wanted to thank you for your story. I really enjoyed it, and you wrote me beautifully.” His blush deepened fractionally. “Wait, am I allowed to say that? I don’t think I quite got all the rules down about this week.”
“Bronwen,” Willow said with a small curtsy, running a hand over the skirt of her dress as she giggled. “Thank you, I honestly wasn’t sure if it was appropriate.” Willow bowed her head to each of the elves, blushing when Vale thanked her for the story she had written about him. “Oh, Master Vale, I am so honored to meet you,” Willow said and bowed her head a little again, reaching out a hand in an offer of a western style handshake. “I am so glad that you liked that story. I promise that I started out with the best of intentions, but then it just turned into this big joke. I am just happy that it turned out alright in the end.”
“It was much more than alright, it was one of your best, if you ask me,” Yuji said with a small chuckle, giving his wife a dorky smile when she turned to look at him. “I am her pet,” Yuji said, bowing deeply in the Japanese manner, his English a little more accented than usual. “Hayashi Yu… oh, no, in English, that would be Yuji Hayashi. I am most honoured to meet you both,” he said and smiled when he righted himself, his eyes drawn to the golden haired elf.
Willow gave him a small huff, and shook her head at the two elves. “Please, don’t mind him. He’s insolent, and has an attitude. But he’s pretty, so I like him.”
“That’s not the only reason you like him,” Kansas said in Japanese and giggled behind her, making Satoshi gasp and elbow him in the side.
“And this is my other insolent, full of attitude sweetheart. Tatsuya, meet Sand Iradil and Vale Anorongil,” Willow said and stepped to the side to let Kansas step forward.
But Kansas squeaked loudly and jumped to hide behind Satoshi, which made Satoshi turn in a circle to try and get Kansas to step up, but Kansas just turned with him, and Willow sighed softly. Satoshi stopped, facing the elves again, and shrugged in defeat as Kansas stopped behind him and giggled nervously, peeking over Satoshi’s shoulder at the two elves and Bronwen.
“He’s shy,” Willow told the elves, and smiled at Vale. “But he’s the one who came up with that line about the dwarves and their beards, actually. Made him laugh for days.”
Vale took Willow’s hand in his, marveling at the softness of her skin. “It’s just Vale, please, my lady, and the honor is all mine. And I quite understand about insolent, full of attitude sweethearts, because that describes Sand perfectly.” He gave his fellow elf a quick grin, clearly trying not to stare too much at the man who had introduced himself first as Willow’s pet. He turned back, however, drawn to the perfect dark eyes and the wonderful smile which lit them. “I’m afraid I don’t speak your language,” he said to Tatsuya. “I’m still very happy to meet you.” He looked at Satoshi, his expression expectant.
Sand chuckled, his amusement evident as he looked at his blond counterpart. “It is precisely because I am insolent and full of attitude that you find me appealing. You can be delightfully cheeky yourself, my dear Vale.”
Willow laughed and bowed her head instinctively to Vale. “The cheeky thing said that Yuji being pretty isn’t the only reason I like him,” she explained, making Kansas give a squeaky giggle. “His English is quite decent, he just prefers Japanese, especially when he’s playing at being shy.”
“He isn’t playing at it,” Satoshi said, a tiny hint of irritation entering his voice, made sharper by the precise way he pronounced his English. He reached behind himself to put his arms protectively around the slender youngster. “I’m Satoshi, the third insolent, full of attitude cretin.”
“He’s the least full of attitude, actually. But he has a sharp tongue, and once he’s warmed up he’s not afraid of using it. Personally, I like him because of the spiky bits, and the way he plays guitar,” Willow said, and grinned wide at Satoshi, making the pierced man blush a perfect crimson.
“Being shy isn’t something to be ashamed of,” Vale said. “I was quite shy when I was young, or so I’m told.” He gave Satoshi a lovely smile. “I’ve never seen anything like your piercings. They’re very striking. And you play guitar? What sort of instrument is that?”
“Oh, gods, don’t get my elves started on music. Like most of their kind, they adore art, music, theater, and in Sand’s case, fine fabrics. I’ve come close to banning him from shopping, but all the tailors sobbed when I tried it.” Bronwen patted Sand’s arm with clear affection. “I must admit, I do enjoy seeing him dress, though.”
Willow laughed brightly and nodded, looking at her pretty pets. “I’m very lucky in that regard. They’re all pretty independent in their fashion choices. Basically it means that they don’t listen to me, half the time. The rest of the time, they expect me to find their clothes, or tell them if something is clean.”
“You make us sound so lovingly helpful,” Yuji retorted with a goofy giggle, and earned a swat on his arm from Willow.
Between them Satoshi sucked on his lower lip and reached up to quickly run his fingertips over the sharp bits of metal. “It’s not usual in our country. I just… I don’t know. I did it because I thought it looked cool at the time,” he said, blushing again, then let out a small sigh of relief when Kansas dared to lift his head above Satoshi’s shoulder.
Kansas giggled as he looked Vale up and down, his blue-grey eyes sparkling brightly. Then he turned his head to whisper into Satoshi’s ear in Japanese, his voice far more childish than it really was.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him, Sweets,” Satoshi said, trying to turn so he could make Kansas stand beside him, but the little imp just clung to his back like a little barnacle and refused to be put on display.
Kansas whispered into Satoshi’s ear again, and Satoshi shook his head, answering in Japanese, and gave a little growl when Kansas whined at him. They went back and forth like that a couple of more times, then Kansas finally gave up and looked up at Vale, and asked in his sweetly childish voice, his English heavily accented. “Is it true?”
“Is what true, Tatsuya?” Vale’s smile was gentle.
Kansas stepped up to stand beside Satoshi, asking with a bit more confidence, and an impish grin, “Is it true that dwarves are a convenient height for you?”
Vale laughed delighted, then smiled as he answered. “To be very honest, Tatsuya, I actually did check, sort of, in the marketplace. I’d have to be a bit taller, or stand on a box, I think, but I’ll confess, the beards do look really coarse. Well, at least on the male dwarves. The males had the prettiest braids in their beards.” He yelped just a little when a waiter spoke up from behind him.
“May I take your orders?”
Vale turned, the kilt swinging around his thighs before the pleats settled back over his firm ass.
“Oh! I’m being an awful pet, aren’t I? Do you need drinks?” he asked, looking to Bronwen and Sand.
Willow slapped Yuji on the forearm when she noticed her husband checking out the blond elf’s ass, but Yuji just gave her one of his gorgeous unrepentant smiles, then arched an eyebrow at her in a manner that only meant one thing, ‘Just check for yourself’. Willow tried to resist but failed as her eyes fell down to look at the pretty curve of the elf’s behind, and the shapely legs beneath the kilt.
“Oh, I would love a drink. We all would, I think,” she said, looking back up quickly when Vale turned back to look at them. “Kansas is old enough to drink. Or, wait, he’s twenty, that’s legal here, isn’t it? I’ll have a red wine, please.”
Yuji nodded at her and Satoshi answered “Nihonshu.”
“A whiskey for him, a sake on ice for that one, and,” Willow hesitated and looked up at Bronwen. “Can Kansas have a drink? I can never remember if twenty is legal in the US or not. But he likes those alcopop things, if you have them.”
“Oh, I think we can let Kansas have whatever he likes,” Bronwen replied, nodding to the waiter. “I’m sure we have just the thing. Now, I’ve got you at this table, right over by the corner, and I’m at the next table. I’ll confess I prefer smaller seating groups, rather than those giant tables they have at most functions. I like to mingle during cocktails, and have quieter conversations over dinner. And speaking of mingling, I should do just that, until dinner is served. Enjoy your drinks, my dears.”
Bronwen beckoned to her elves, and Vale gave a last look over his shoulder at the tall Japanese man.
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Sandcastles and Fireworks