His Treasured Spawn (Astarion x Reader)

The Horny Adventures Of A Bard

Allow me, dear reader, to take you along on this erotic adventure into the steamy heart of the Icy Mountains, where icy winds whispered secrets and landscapes teased with their enigmatic allure. Picture me, Lyrion, a humble bard with a penchant for mischief, venturing forth with a heart full of anticipation and a lute yearning to strum a seductive serenade that would make even the most frigid of dragons catch fire.

The journey was as treacherous as a maiden's scorn, my friends, filled with icy winds that nipped at my extremities and landscapes that made me reconsider my career choices. But nothing could deter my ego-driven determination, for I believed that my irresistible charm, a saucy melody, and a few well-placed compliments could thaw even the iciest of hearts.

Finally, after weeks of frostbitten fingers and questionable decisions, I reached the pulsating heart of the Icy Mountains. There, beneath the moon's sultry gaze, I spotted her—a dragon, as silver as a moonlit pool of molasses. My pulse quickened as I realized I had found my muse, or perhaps she had found me, drawn inescapably by my charisma.

With all the finesse of a smooth-talking bard, I approached the dragon, lute in hand, and my most conceited smile at the ready. I began to strum my lute, the notes sultry and suggestive, as I sang a ballad that left little to the imagination. Oh, how I yearned for her to be the leading lady in this scandalous affair!

The silver dragon, her eyes like sapphires that had seen their share of secrets, turned her gaze towards me, her scales glinting in the moonlight. She spoke in a voice that could make anyones heart race, "What brings a charming bardlike you to my frosty den, serenading me under the stars?"

I continued my performance, weaving tales of stolen kisses in dark alleyways and amorous encounters that would make a courtesan blush. My aim was clear: to spark the fires of desire within her, if you catch my drift.

But the silver dragon, the saucy minx, found my advances more amusing than arousing. She chuckled, her laughter like a sultry melody, and said, "You're quite the bard, my dear, but let's not mistake dragon business for... well, your particular interests. I'm here to guard the mountains, not to engage in dalliances."

Undeterred by her frosty reception, I switched to a livelier tune, twirling and shimmying around her with all the finesse I could muster. I thought, "Surely, this will fan the flames of passion!" Alas, instead of passion, she raised a scandalous eyebrow and her laughter rang out once more.

"My dear bard," she purred, her voice dripping with playful innuendo, "your enthusiasm is quite impressive, but let's not get carried away. I 'm a dragon, no common tavern wench. It seems you need some cooling of your desire."

 The dragon inhaled deeply. A swirling mist of icy breath enveloped me, leaving my body feeling hard in more than one way. At first, I thought it was simply her way of adding a dramatic flair to our encounter, a touch of frosty intrigue.

But shortly after, she spread her majestic wings and took to the sky, leaving me standing alone in the heated valley of my thwarted desires. 

I took it as a flirtatious gesture, a promise for the next time our paths would cross. I chuckled to myself, patting my chest and thinking, "Ah, she's playing hard to get, but she's intrigued. Until next time, my silver beauty!"

And so, with my ego unshaken and my desires cooled, I left the Icy Mountains, my heart still yearning for the elusive silver dragon, convinced that our next encounter would be even more scandalous and self-gratifying.