#should i drop some lore regarding Neala?

[daemon-in-my-head]

I DID IT! FLUFF! NOT A DRILL! OK well obviously me being me there's the trademark sliver of angst but, yk, it's brushed aside quick(er than usual). No, despite the name, it is NOT horny. Though Gortash has some thoughts because of course that fucker does. I have no hand left in their characterisation, they're doing it themselves atp. I'm fucking innocent I swear on Gortash's most personal dreams.

Synopsis: Perhaps childcare wasn't as easy as Enver Gortash always considered it. Seeing how the ruthless tyrant now sat defeated and adorned in all sorts of finery before the little girl. The very girl he so smugly proclaimed tending to would be easily doable hours prior.

2,069 words, non-descriptive mentions of violence, big fluff. Read here or on Ao3.

Child's play

"I want to play," The little girl exclaimed loudly as her hands found their way onto the makeshift desk Gortash had created from the ornamental outdoor furniture. She was bravely demanding the city's tyrant's attention, which had been solely intended for the documents before him, all for herself.

"So? You have plenty of toys. Go and play with them." The Archduke didn't even bother looking up, or rather down, at the girl.

Seeing how his dearest companion had been working himself to the bone lately, caring for his day-to-day work in the temple and keeping his daughter safe and entertained, the Archduke had ever so graciously offered to look after her for a day, all so that his dearest Bhaalspawn may rest, and perhaps, if he was fortunate enough, wouldn't reject any advance to as much as a conversation with his usual saying he'd be too tired or that he'd still have some work he needed to tend to.

After all, Gortash thought, money for a nanny had been no issue and considering all his feats so far, caring for a child for a day should be easily accomplished. A worthwhile tradeoff for the rewards the proud lord promised himself. At least in theory. But the little girl had thrown an extraordinary tantrum when he had attempted to leave her with the nanny and loudly demanded to accompany him today, resulting in the never-resting tyrant setting up a temporary office in his companion's garden, all while the girl entertained herself either watching him or playing around with a plethora of toys her father must've obtained for her. Until just a moment ago, that was.

"They're boring," The girl pouted, clearly displeased about his straightforward dismissal of her. "I want to have a party."

Ever Gortash sighed, "we can't simply host a party just because you're bored of your toys, Neala. And certainly not with a hostess that barely reaches up to her guest's hips."

"But Papa always does when I ask him to?" She seemingly couldn't comprehend just how absurd her request had been.

Intrigued by the utter confusion displayed on the little girl's face, he questioned further, finally setting down the quill and facing the girl, now standing next to him, "how exactly do these parties your father holds for you look like?"

"Well," the girl began, her confusion quickly changing into delight, "Papa and Lief sit down, and we talk, and Papa listens and calls me 'Lady'. Oh, we also have tea! Mama used to help me with that but-" the girls expression darkened as she recalled her mother.

The tyrant knew that she still missed her immensely. It had become a reoccurring topic whenever he and his companion managed to find time to sit down and talk, and while he didn't usually care for sentimentality like this, considering his own circumstance, making Fine's daughter cry, even by accident, would certainly not work in his favour.

"Fine," he forced his lips to curl into a crooked smile, "let's have a party then. Tell the servants what you need. They'll help you prepare."

Not even waiting for him to finish his sentence, the girl had already run off towards the garden's entrance.

Whatever she had described was, after all, not a party but simple child's play, entertainment for the mansion's little princess, provided to her by her beloved parents. Though, the proud lord had to admit, even if it wasn't a proper gathering, the idea in and of itself was quite brilliant, playfully teaching the girl what would be expected of her once she came of age. Especially considering she was the offspring of two rather infamous 'families', being a proper hostess and perhaps handling things such as beverages by herself were skills that would undoubtedly be useful to her in the future. Then again, the more he played with the thought, the less sure of whose idea it must've been he became. Both her parents were undoubtedly ruthless enough to make sure she would be well-equipped to use anything she could to her advantage, but on the other hand, at least her father seemed to treasure her dearly and continuously gave his best efforts to keep her as far away and more importantly as unaware as possible of his usually grim businesses.

Perhaps it was indeed her late mother's idea? It would make sense, he thought. She had been a noble drow, and her kind was primarily known for their handiness when it came to poisonings and other cruelties. A woman like that playfully teaching her child from a young age how to host gatherings and, more importantly, how to add unique ingredients to a tea was something he could terrifyingly easily imagine. Perhaps it would be better to refrain from touching any teacups the girl would handle.

The Gates Archduke making headlines because a child managed to somehow temper with his drink would certainly diminish his reputation. Although, perhaps if he framed it the right way, it may yet serve as a way to garner even more support. But then again, challenging the Bhaalspawn for his daughter's sake would work against his most personal goals. A sigh escaped the man as he was weighing the options in his mind. It seemed as though caring for a child was, in fact, not so as easy as he had imagined previously, seeing the conundrum he now found himself face to face with.

"Here," the girl's voice finally tore his chain of thought apart, forcing Gortash to return to the present once more.

"And whatever might this be?" His Eyebrows furrowed as he observed the bundle of fabric stretched out towards him before he shifted his gaze to look upon the girl again.

"Clothes," Neala was equally confused, seemingly not grasping why he would question something so obvious.

"I can see that, Neala. But why have you brought them here?" The tyrant swallowed his sigh. How much he missed conversing with those who understood his words for what they were.

"People dress up for parties, do they not?" She hurriedly placed the bundle on the makeshift desk, disregarding the parchment beneath. Like father like daughter. As soon as she did, a seemingly exquisite hat, alongside a plethora of other accessories, revealed itself.

"Here," she said yet again, this time holding the aforementioned hat adorned with silky fabric towards the grumbling man.

"If you need help putting it on, you should ask the servants. They're more experienced with these things." He gestured towards the garden's entrance where a maid had been stationed, ready to heed her master's every beck and call.

The girl beamed as she proudly retorted, "it's not for me. I got it specifically for you!"

Gortash couldn't believe what he had heard. This big, tedious, carefully decorated hat before him was one of the things the ladies of high society would adorn themselves with whenever they left their comfortable estates. It was certainly not something he would, or should, ever consider wearing. "You're trying to make a fool of me, are you not, little one?"

The girl, however, perhaps fortunately not picking up on either the slight hint of malice or the true meaning of his words, simply continued to beam at him as she responded, "you need to dress up prettily for parties, and this is the pretties one I have."

"I appreciate your consideration, but I'm afraid I can't wear that." He spoke through gritted teeth. Even in a private garden, an Archduke couldn't stoop so low.

"But you have to. It's no party otherwise." The girl insisted.

"Why, you little-" he tried his best to keep his voice low, low enough so that the girl wouldn't hear his cursing, but his efforts were in vain.

"I'll tell on you to Papa." She smirked as she cut him off. The little devil certainly knew what she was doing, he thought.

But before the tyrant could consider his next excuse, another familiar voice rang through the garden. "Oh? What are you going to tell me?"

A white-haired man emerged from the grand doors marking the garden's entrance behind them, promptly causing the girl to drop the things she had been holding onto and rush towards him, only to be picked up and nestled within his arms in one swell motion, sealing Gortash's fate for good.

"Papa! Your back!" She wrapped her arms around the man, obviously overjoyed about his arrival.

"So? What were you talking about that you couldn't help but share?" He was looking at the somewhat defeated-looking lord before him, but the answer he sought came from the girl in his arms.

"We wanted to hold a party!" Neala was still giddy with excitement as she spoke.

Fine shifted his gaze towards his daughter before questioning her further, seemingly knowing what must've transpired while he was gone with just a glance at the two of them. "And he really agreed to go along with what you proposed?"

The girl's excitement died down a little as she appeared caught in her mischievousness. He could guess that she omitted some 'minor' aspects of her proposal, which had led to whatever situation he had barged in on. But before she could receive the imminent scolding, the person who may yet change her fate interjected himself into the conversation again.

"I did." He cleared his throat and promptly continued, leaving no room for any more questions, "in fact, we were just picking out some fancy clothes, weren't we?" Gortash forced a smile. He disliked it, but he'd rather voluntarily discard his pride than be saved by the very person whom he had promised a day of rest. "Now, shall we return to what we were doing?"

The Bhaalspawn raised his brows in surprise but soon enough let go of the girl and allowed her to return to her party planning. As soon as she was freed, she held out the hat towards the grumbling tyrant again.

"Thank you." A brusque reply before he took the fabric of nightmares and placed it on his painstakingly coiffed hair.

"Here," Neala's usual smile had returned as she approached her father, an exquisitely crafted brooch clasped in her hands.

"Am I invited as well?" The man responded with a similar smile. He seemed genuinely happy about this unforeseen development. Perhaps burying one's pride once every so often wasn't too bad, Gortash thought.

"Yes," the girl exclaimed happily. "You'll be the lord, and Uncle Enver will be the lady. And I'll be the gracious hostess!" The tyrant swallowed. Never mind his previous statement. This, most definitely, was hell on earth. The little girl must be a fiend skilled at hiding her undoubtedly existing horns. And that nickname she had conjured up, oh how much he wished he could just curse out loud.

Trying his best to suppress the laughter threatening to break free, Fine made his way over to Gortash, extending an arm as soon as he reached him. "My lady? Shall we head to a more suitable location?"

Biting his lip, still trying his hardest to swallow the laughter, Fine nodded towards the pavilion where the servants had already set the table with a delicate porcelain tea set. The place the child had already dashed off to.

Gortash sighed before taking the hand extended towards him. This father-daughter pair may yet be the death of him, but for now, he'd simply try to delight in the few short moments of undisturbed time together their way would allow them.

And sure enough, after arriving at the furniture set decorated for them, the blissful moments soon disappeared. Their little hostess made sure to torment him for what seemed like hours, chattering away and engaging the adults in conversation about made up circumstance and her little fantasies, all while serving what could only be called discoloured water and endlessly swooning over the beautiful hat the 'lady' had been wearing. Gortash may have had his fair share of dealings with devils, but all of them could still learn a thing or two from the little hellspawn hopping around cheerfully around them.

Still, while Gortash yet refused to admit his defeat for a while longer, it didn't take too long for him to finally surrender to the little demon before him. Perhaps due to the ashen hand holding his own and the quietly mouthed 'thank you' from the man beside him, in the end, and after enough time had passed being held onto like this, even the tyrant's smile seemed to come naturally to him.

#fresh in today from the hell that is daemons mind #is it really durgetash fluff if gortash isnt suffering? #or 'which horrible person takes this hellspawn really after' and other questions gortash asked himself #should i drop some lore regarding Neala? #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #durgetash #enver gortash #bg3 durge #daemons writing #bg3 fanfic #fanfic #i still have no idea how this happened #or if its good #but yk #for the sake of fake it till you make it #13/10 my most bestest most deranged bit yet