A Touch of Mischief

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Jester slips away one night to make a little mischief.
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Tayls77
Tayls77
9 Followers

Authors note: This story takes place partway through episode 48 of the second season of Critical Role.

Jester Lavore sat at the bar of a Trostenwald tavern, waiting for inspiration to strike. As much as she loved her friends in the Nein -the puzzled looks when people counted out their members still delighted her- after everything that had happened at sea she felt an uncharacteristic need for a little space to process things. And maybe have a little fun.

The Hillward district of the town with its well-to-do elite and regular Crownsguard patrols just seemed so dull it was the perfect place to spread a little chaos, although with the late hour her options were limited. A man sat a little ways from her at the bar. Older, with steel grey hair that gave him a distinguished air he didn't seem out of place in Hillward district but his travelling cloak spoke to being only a visitor. His clothes were plain, especially compared to her own frilled dress; meant for hard wear and travel but well fitted and just as well maintained.

Her stools feet squeaked against the floor as she scooted a little closer to him.

"You know what you should really try?" Still facing the bar she'd leaned over precariously on her stool, to whisper conspiratorially. "The milk they have. It's just the best."

Bredon Geir had already glanced over at the sound of her stool moving but turned his attention to her more completely. A half-drunk mug of one of the local ales sat at his elbow; he was fairly indifferent to ales as a whole, content to nurse it over the evening but the young teifling was far more interesting.

"The milk? I was told ale was Trostenwald's specialty."

She shook her head, blue tresses bouncing around her shoulders and voice still a conspiratorial whisper, "nope. Nope nope nope. It's the milk. That's their big secret."

A smile tugged at his lips as she spoke, though he fought to keep a straight face. There was this energy to her. An excitement that wasn't innocent or naïve as much as simply genuine and he was surprised and how much he liked it.

He turned in his seat to properly face her.

"Really? Well, you seem quite well travelled so you must be quite the connoisseur. It would be foolish of me to ignore such an expert."

Jester's smile brightened as she saw him fighting his own, trying to seem serious. Most were at best confused or at worst annoyed or angry at her games, her momma had really been the only one to really play along. And now this man!

He was tall -she could tell even while he was sitting- his back straight but having turned towards her she could now see just how broad he was across the shoulders, square jawed and handsome.

She giggled, nodding her head enthusiastically, "Oh yes, my friends and I travel a lot- we're adventurers! Super amazing ones, too. We've gone all across Wildemount and sailed the Menagerie coast! We fight monsters, and save cities, explore weird places; all that kind of stuff!" Bredon almost thought she'd start bouncing on her seat as that bubbly energy of hers seemed to grow while she talked about her friends and their adventures. "They're all sleeping now but I decided I wanted a drink. Did you want to join me?"

Chuckling, Bredon no longer tried to hide his amusement, calling for the bartender; a middle aged halfling who'd been dozing in a chair against the wall. The bleary eyed bartender looked from him to Jester and back, letting out a dryly knowing "uh-huh," when he ordered the pair of milks before shuffling off to fill it.

Turning back to Jester, Bredon tisked her softly. "Naughty girl, sneaking out on your friends like that." He waged a finger, chiding her like a scolding parent but he did it all with a warm and teasing smile. "If your days are so hectic you should be getting some sleep too. It's 'no rest for the wicked' not 'no rest for the blue and adorable'," he winked at her.

"But milk is supposed to make you tired. I promise I'll try and go to sleep after this, okay dad?" Jester whined and gave an exaggerated pout, crossing her arms but it barely lasted a few moments until she had to stifle a fit of giggling.

Bredon raised an eyebrow, smile still playing on his lips as the bartender returned with their drinks. He wasn't actually a father; at least, not to his knowledge. But that hadn't exactly stopped a number of the women he'd taken to bed from referring to him as such. And with increasingly regularity since his hair had greyed.

He watched as she took a drink of her milk, tongue darting out across her upper lip as she set the tankard down.

Reaching over, he gently touched the tip of her nose with a finger.

"Alright missy. But perhaps in the future we'll need to find a way to tire you out before tucking you in for the night," he grinned. He wasn't exactly 'kidding'. Despite her demeanor, from his seat he could tell she was clearly all woman -and delectably so.

Her smile grew even as she pulled back a bit when he booped her nose, a pleasant little shiver running through her.

"It's not missy, my name's Jester!"

"Jester." He rolled her name across her tongue. It was certainly appropriate for the playful, spirited young woman. "Jes-ter." He enunciated slowly, nodding to himself. "I do like the way that sounds on my tongue." He cocked his head to the side slightly and his lips curled in a different kind of smile. Not quite hungry, but full of intention and desire. The way people looked at her mother.

The way Avantica had looked at Fjor-

She shoved those thoughts away, refusing to let it ruin her night.

He was looking at her like that. An indigo flush rose in her cheeks and chest as her heart started beating faster.

"I wonder how it would taste?"

They lapsed into silence as he took a drink

"And how do you think I should tired myself out before bed?" She said softly.

Bredon smiled, chuckling a little as she seemed to get so excited. Flustered, almost. It was actually a little surprising. She hadn't seemed the bashful type, but she was blushing so hard as to practically be glowing.

"A beautiful young woman like you, Jester?" He rolled her name across his tongue again, savoring it. "I imagine it would be very hard." He turned to his drink, winking at her with sly smile on his lips as he lifted it again. "But probably not difficult."

Jester shifted on her stool. She could feel every little breeze on her skin. Had the tavern that had gotten warmer? Then why did the air taste almost cold when breathed in?

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him. Her usually bubbly energy had been replaced by something different. More... restless. Eager.

She liked him. He was nice, and clever, and handsome, and strong. And he looked at her in a way nobody in the group did. Despite how she might act, she did have genuine wants and desires and if nobody else wanted to fulfill them why should she feel bad about letting him?

Jester reached for her flagon of milk and took several gulps. Breathing hard, she swallowed nervously, tongue darting across her lips. "So how would you like to take me back to where you're staying and get started?"

He set down his drink and did a poor job of feigning indignation. "I wouldn't be much of a gentleman to even suggest a young lady such of yourself accompany me, unchaperoned through these streets at this late hour." The sly, almost mischievous smile returned, a twinkle in his hungry eyes. "Fortunately I do happen to have a room upstairs. Not that any proper young woman or good girl would take a man up on such an offer..."

Growing more sure of herself, Jester nodded. Leaning forwards and looking up, she met his dark eyes. "You're right. But I'm not either of those. I'm an adventurous, well-travelled young woman and naughty girl who snuck away from her friends to a nearby tavern explicitly in search of a little adventure." She adjusted her posture to push out her chest and shifted her legs so her skirts rose up a little higher. "I won't complain if I find a lot instead."

His gaze moved to her legs, tracking back up along her hips and waist, her chest, and the finally back to her face. Leaning forwards, he placed his hands on her legs, just above the knee. He smelt of sweat and sandalwood, and his fingers massaged her thighs. Strong calloused fingertips pressing against soft blue skin through her stockings.

"Let's see just how well travelled."

There was a growing quality to his voice; low and rough. Full of intent and promise. The touch was almost electric and she pressed up against it. Firm but tender. Just like him.

And she didn't know his name.

Her confidence faltered, nervousness returning to the surface and she squirmed in her seat, glancing away.

"Who are you?" she said softly, looking up at him.

With a small laugh, he gave her a gentle smile and the fingers on her thighs relaxed. "Bredon Geir. It's a pleasure to meet you Jester. "

She couldn't help but grin, "not yet. But it will be." She cast a glance around. "You have a room upstairs?"

He practically towered over her own 5'3" when he stood, but most did unless they were at least part dwarf or halfling. She guessed the tips of her horns would only come up to about his shoulders.

One hand fell from her thigh, the other sliding up over the fabric of her dress and her hip to rest on her waist as he moved behind her. Age may have softened the edges of his athleticism but it hadn't robbed him of it completely as he pressed against her back and pulled her against him. His breath was warm on the shell of her ear, lips brushing over the soft flesh.

"I do."

Jester drew in a shaking breath. She'd never really thought about older men but the spark of arousal inside her had blossomed into an inferno and her whole body felt afire as she pressed against him. When he shifted away slightly, she let out a small whine. A needy little sound at the loss of his strength against her before the hand on her lower back eased her off her seat. She half expected her legs to give way when she tried to stand.

He guided her towards the stairs, easing her up ahead of him to watch the callipygian movements of her hips as the tip of her tail flicked and swished excitedly. On the landing his hand found her lower back and he directed her down the narrow, lantern lit hall to his room. She pressed against him as they walked, leaning her head against his shoulder until they reached the room and he unlocked the door.

Catha's pale light poured in through the window, pooling on the floor and Jester stepped into it almost like walking into a dream. Motes of dust glowed in the moonbeams, swirling and dancing around her. She closed her eyes, spinning slowly in place, feeling the moonlight on her skin.

Bredon leaned back against the door, watching her with a growing feeling he couldn't quite describe. His arousal was still there, simmering quietly, but there was something about this young woman, her authenticity that that in turn made him feel more... something. Whatever it was it was a nice.

Removing his cloak, he draped it over the back of one of the rooms two chairs, barely visible outside the puddle of moonlight before stepping closer to her. Jester finished her pirouette, rocking gently on her heels and looking down nervously, hands behind her back.

She seemed so small. Almost delicate. He lifted her chin with a finger and she looked at him with those brilliant glittering eyes.

"What's wrong Jester?" He asked it softly. Not the same growling, primal softness as he had earlier, though that seemed to linger just below the surface. This was more gentle. Tender. Caring.

Jester's heart was racing and she met his eyes, pressing her lips together. Between the books she'd read and simply growing up in the Chateaux, she knew a lot about sex. Like, a lot. But knowing something and actually experiencing it were two very different things.

"I just... you'll listen to me if it's too much right?"

He nodded in understanding and smiled, this time warm and comforting. Safe.

"Of course Jester, we can go slow. And stop whenever you want." He leaned down and kissed her forehead like her momma sometimes did.

Tilting her head back, she raised herself on tiptoe to bring their lips together and closed her eyes. The kiss was a curious, careful contact at first. Then her arms came up and wrapped around his neck and she grew more confident. A moan bubbled from her lips as grabbed her hips, those same strong hands pulling her closer. His lips were soft, his body warm against her, as she breathed deeply the sandalwood and sweat scent of him.

His hands moved lower, easing around to grab her butt and she let out a squeal of delighted surprise as he lifted her up. She crossed her ankles behind his back, grinning as she kissed him again. Nimble fingers ran through his hair as he carried her over towards the bed.

The kiss broke as he stumbled in the dim light but his hands were strong on her body and it didn't occur to her that she fall. Catching himself, he regained his footing and with a chuckle set her down gently on the bed.

Shifting his hands to her waist, he grinned. "Not all of us can see in the dark."

She pulled him back down into a kiss, ankles crossed behind his back to keep him against her. He didn't resist, leaning into her embrace as she lay back; her fingers teasing his hair. His body was a comforting weight, pressing her against the mattress and the fabric of her skirts bunched up around her waist as she unfastened her legs from around his waist. She could feel his arousal against the inside of her leg.

When he pulled against her grip on his hair and broke their kiss again, she whimpered in disappointment. A whimper that turned into a surprised "oh!" of pleasure as he nuzzled her neck. The pleasure drew her body into an arch, chest and hips rising to press against his body as her fingers tightened in his hair. While he'd shaved that morning, the bristles that had since grown tickled her skin as he kissed and teased down the side of her throat.

She squirmed under him, writhing on the sheets at the new and lovely attentions he paid her as his lips met her clavicle and continued to the swell of her breast. When his lips met the frills of her bodice, he didn't miss a beat; nipping and tugging at it playfully with his teeth as he adjusted his gaze to look at her.

Or near enough, at least. In the darkness she could still make out details in shades of grey, but his own human eyes weren't as keen, turning the room to smears of shadow.

His teeth flashed in a grin as he looked up at her and she felt a flutter of excitement.

"It seems this armor of yours has me stymied." The bed shifted as he adjusted his weight, reaching up to pluck playfully at her bodice with his fingers just as he had with his teeth and she giggled. "As long as I can't see what I'm doing, at least."

With what was absolutely not a melodramatic sigh, she untwined her fingers from his hair and let him straighten up. Chuckling, he stepped back from the bed and moved cautiously towards the table with the lantern on the opposite wall.

Sitting up on the bed, she had a chance to look around the room proper. In addition to the usual room furnishings, a mace leaned against the wall, head on the floor in the corner of the room opposite the bed and a pack sat on the chest at the foot of the bed, a woodcutters axe strapped to one side, a strip of fabric with strange writing Caleb or Beau might have been able to read tied to the handle.

The gentle squeak of the lantern hinges drew her attention back to Bredon as he reached his hand inside it and with a muttered word a small flame flickered at the tip of the finger he'd touched to the wick.

She straightened in surprise. "You're a wizard?" She hadn't meant to sound shocked, but her only real interaction with wizards had been Caleb -and more recently Yussa, but neither of them had been quite so... Broad.

He smiled, shaking his head as he closed the lantern and replaced it on the hook. "Just an old soldier who's picked up a few tricks over the years."

Shadows accentuated the lines of his face, contrasting with the flickering halo of warm candlelight. He looked like a great king from one of her childhood stories; noble and strong while still safe and comforting.

Biting her lower lip, she rose from the bed and unclasped her cloak, shrugging it off to pool behind her on the floor.

He smiled, patient and understanding. Pulling his shirt up off over his head he likewise dropped it to the floor.

A light dusting of steel grey hair covered his upper chest and ran down his stomach. His muscles weren't nearly as defined as Beau's, but they were big, shifting subtly under skin marked with a motley of scars.

She took a step closer without really thinking about it, placing her a finger against the topmost of four small puncture scars, spaced a handsbreadth apart running down the right side of his chest.

His skin was warm against the her fingertip and she slowly placed her thumb over the one below it, feeling his chest rise and fall as he took deep slow breaths. She looked up a him inquisitively, arousal and dim light turning her eyes to dark pools.

"Pithfork." She felt the rumble of his chest through her hand.

She walked her fingers down to the next scar, then the next, and let her hand fall away. Leaning in, she kissed one of the scars gently; skin as warm against her lips as it had been against her fingers.

Heart fluttering with anticipation and excitement, she turned around to offer him the buttons and lacing of her dress. His hands settled on her shoulders, large and calloused before slipping down to undo the top button with surprising nimbleness

Her clothing loosened as he teased slack from the laces. His breath and the scratch of his stubble on the slope of her neck made her shiver when he leaned down to kiss it, resting his hands on her shoulders. They slid over and down and when they reached the detached sleeves he eased his thumbs under the material and pushed them down until her dress slipped to the floor.

Her tail flicked with nervous energy as she was left in nothing but her underwear, stockings and ruby necklace. The cold rarely bothered her, but she was acutely aware of the cool air on her bare skin and suppressed a shiver that had little to do with the temperature.

The floor creaked gently as Bredon stepped closer, wrapping his arms gently around her waist and pressing against her back. She leaned back into the embrace, the touch of him warm and electric. Even through his pants she could feel his dick pressing hard and hot against her lower back.

Her tail twinned around his ankle as the calloused hands slid over her fluttering stomach, easing ever downwards. By the time they met the soft fabric of her underwear, she was practically trembling as she pressed back against him.

His left hand moved further down, sliding over silk now unmistakably damp with arousal and her breath hitched as it neared her sex, only to be let out in a desperate whimper when his fingers slid past it to brush the inside of her thigh.

Even that touch against her skin was electric as his fingertips stroked the tender flesh. She reached back and up with both arms, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck. The low moan that had started to grow in her chest became a sharp gasp of surprise and pleasure when he twisted his hand and drew the inside edge up across her panty covered mound.

Her upper half pressed back against him even as her hips rose to meet his hand, body quivering as the pleasure blossomed out from his touch.

Jester was well acquainted with her own body, her liberal and enthusiastic solo experimentations only really slowing down once she'd left the Chateaux. With the whole party regularly packed into a pair of tavern rooms or Caleb's dome she rarely had the privacy but she still occasionally found the chance to indulge herself with a copy of Tusk Love.

Tayls77
Tayls77
9 Followers
12