Chapter Text
It was the end of a long stretch of adventuring. The party had finally returned back to the tavern and Helena was looking forward to a hot bath and a good night's sleep in a real bed. After dinner and drinks with her friends, toasting their safe return and good fortune, she headed upstairs to her room. Upon reaching the landing, she heard metal clanking and someone grunting like they were stuck. Taking a few steps into the hallway, she spotted a shadow moving in Lantrell's room. It sounded like the sounds were coming from that direction, so Helena leveraged her stealthy skills and crept closer to his doorway to peek inside.
The paladin seemed to be struggling to undo some of the buckles on his armor, and was circling around grasping at the elusive strip of leather. Helena stifled a laugh and stepped forward.
"Need some help there?" she asked, smirking at the struggling Lantrell. He froze upon seeing her in the doorway, a slow blush spreading over his cheeks.
"Yeah, looks like I do," he said, looking up at her sheepishly. "I can't get this damn buckle undone." He gestured to the strap connecting the breastplate of his armor to the shoulder. Helena moved closer and deftly unbuckled the offending strip of leather. Hesitating for just a moment, she began undoing another buckle and slid the plate off Lantrell's arm. She reached for the buckle holding his chestplate on, and glanced up, meeting his stunning blue eyes.
"Is this alright?" Helena murmured, transfixed by his gaze. He nodded, letting her undo the closure and helping her remove the shining metal from his body, revealing his padded leather vest underneath. He shrugged it off, still looking at her, and was left in an open-necked grey shirt. The very top of his circular black birthmark peeked out from the slit neckline, and Helena was fighting the urge to reach out and trace it across his skin. She looked down at the remaining armor on his legs and moved to kneel next to him.
"Wait," Lantrell said, his voice low. Helena froze, fearing that she had overstepped. Their eyes met again, and the fear dissipated. "Shut the door first, we don't need an audience."
Helena scrambled to her feet and swung the heavy wooden door closed as quietly as she could. She turned back to Lantrell to find him sitting on his bed, already working on the bindings of his right leg. Kicking her boots off, she moved quickly across the room and knelt in front of the mostly unarmored paladin, reaching for the straps of his greaves. Her deft fingers had the last few buckles undone in barely a minute, and she slid the pieces of adamantine to the floor. Slowly, nerves starting to kick in, she climbed up onto the bed next to Lantrell.
He turned to face her, blue eyes shining in the candlelight. He reached up and brushed a lock of her hair back behind her ear, leaving his hand to rest on her shoulder. The warmth radiated throughout Helena's chest. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the cedarwood and incense scent of him, eyes never leaving his.
"Thank you for helping me take that armor off. This is much more comfortable," he said, his eyes tearing away from hers to take in the worn studded leather armor that encased her torso. "D-do you need help with yours?" There was the slightest tremor in his voice as his fingers toyed with the leather ties. It was rare to see any sign of nerves in the normally brash paladin.
Helena's breath caught in her throat. "Yes," she whispered, leaning back to let him undo the lacing. Carefully he pulled out the knot, unlacing the cord slowly, and soon Helena's armor had joined his on the floor, leaving her clad in only a dark linen shirt and supple leather leggings.
Lantrell lifted a hand - that shook ever so slightly - up to Helena's neck, stroking gently across her collarbone. Her eyes briefly fluttered closed at the feeling of his warm, rough fingers on her skin. She reached up and traced the visible line of his birthmark, following the curve of the circle down his chest and over his shirt where she could no longer reach skin. He gasped as she continued following the path she imagined the birthmark followed, down his ribs, across his toned stomach, and up his other side. Her breathing quickened as she looked back up and saw how his eyes had darkened with a hunger she had never seen in him before.
"Helena," Lantrell murmured before drawing her closer and then onto his lap. "I want to kiss you." He brought his hands up to her face and stroked her cheek with one thumb.
"Then kiss me, Lantrell," Helena replied, lifting her hands to cup his jaw. He crushed her body to his and covered his lips with her own. She kissed him back eagerly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist.