The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Coquette Blacquin]

"No ma'am," she says quietly again. 

[NPCs]

"Anything you simply want?" Paerle asks as she continues the soothing process of washing and combing Coquette's hair. "You have lovely hair," she adds in a murmur.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Thank you. For everything, not just the compliment."

[NPCs]

"Oh you sweet girl," Paerle croons, leaning forward to wrap Coquette in a hug from behind. "Of course; anything for family." I would take so much better care of you, if you were mine.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Later that evening -- far later than normal -- Coquette comes in quietly, murmuring something about visiting family and being tired. She declines dinner, heading into the bedroom, where she disrobes, curls into a ball under the covers, and begins shaking. 

[Zevran]

Less than five minutes later, Coquette absently notices a hushed conversation on the other side of the door. It doesn't last long, thirty seconds or so perhaps, then the door clicks open. A few beats latter, she hears footsteps coming towards the bed, though they start partway there, as if someone had belatedly remembered to give warning of their approach.

"My love?" Her husband's voice is low and warm, a caress in audible form. He's stopped right at the side of the bed, not on it yet but touching it with his legs.

[Coquette Blacquin]

There's a mewling cry, a whimper mixed with a plea, wordless all. This at least feels somewhat familiar -- it's not often that Little B's flashbacks show on the outside, but when they do, Zev has been a huge help in comforting them. 

[Zevran]

"Oh baby," Zevran sighs softly. There's a faint thud as he sets something down on the nightstand, then the bed shifts a little as he slides in next to her. He lays on his side, curling around her without touching and leaving a way out opposite from him. "Sweetheart? Can you hear me? It's Zevran."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Not s'heart," mumbles the figure, shuddering and shivering. 

[Zevran]

"Ah, my apologies, mon amora," Zevran says gently. "Who's up front then?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

A long breath. Another. 

"N're." 

[Zevran]

Near? As in close to Sweetheart? No, that doesn't make sense. N're... New'r. New ar-- "Noire?" Zevran blurts out, not able to smooth out the surprise in his voice. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

Noire flinches. "G'n be sick," she whimpers. 

[Zevran]

Moving as swiftly as he can without jostling her too badly, Zevran lifts Noir up, blankets and all, and sprints for the bathroom. Setting her down in front of the toilet, he starts peeling back the blankets, hoping he's in time. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

She helps, somewhat, frantic to get unwrapped in time. Then she's purging what little is in her guts (she skipped dinner): mostly bile, but also a greyish, sticky substance that Zevran might have assumed to be mushroom soup or some such if not for the smell of it.