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SWG KISS Prompt#7: A kiss to shut them up
The doorbell chimed with the enthusiasm of someone clocking out at exactly five. Tav couldn’t blame it—she was on her sixth vineyard, third fake smile, and roughly her twelfth swirl-n-sniff of the day.
“I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it. Welcome to Nocturne Wines. My friend and partner in business told me to expect you. Pull up a seat and while I gather up the vintages and materials since we will be taking this outside.”
Tav raised her head upon stepping inside to glance at the owner of the gentle yet commanding voice that drew her forward. The proprietress stole her breath away. Standing behind the Dark cherry oak bar with a short towel slung over her shoulder while inspecting a variety of wine glasses, was “Nocturne Wine's” Shadowheart. Tav drank in her entire form, eyes starting from the silver highlighted bangs and tightly knit braid of black and silver hair to the well placed amulet that hung just above the deep v neck blouse. Two emerald eyes zeroed in on her shameless staring and jolted Tav out of her reverie.
Maybe it was the previous score of mediocre wine samples that loosened her tongue but before she could straighten herself out of her tipsy stupor, Tav couldn't help but reply: “you're beautiful.” Heat promptly colored her cheeks and she shook her head as if that would somehow convince both this woman and herself that she wasn't totally socially inept.
“I know. But you're sweet to notice. Now tell me, what brings you here? Nocturne told me you are shopping around for a vendor but failed to tell me what for.”
Tav clumsily pulled out a bar stool and sat herself directly across Shadowheart. From inside her pants pocket, the Samsung phone vibrated. She pulled it out, suddenly incredibly embarrassed. The notification revealed Karlach's name and message: “Hey soldier, did you make it there ok? Is the place as swanky and sexy as the Yelp reviews claim?” Tav rushed out her reply: “here. Talk later. Owner is waiting, don't want to be rude.” As she placed her phone down on the bar, a pale but firm ivory hand covered her own and swiftly pulled the phone out of Tav's grasp which earned Shadowheart what Tav hoped was a look of dignified confusion-maybe even annoyance but the celestial goddess only six inches and a bar table apart just smirked-amusement dancing behind her eyes.
“No phones. For the next half hour, you are all mine…?”
“Tav”
“Tav.” The way her name rolled off Shadowheart's tongue had her leaning further across the bar. Unbidden, Tav stammered out an explanation for answering her phone and an answer to the earlier question.
“Uh-um well I’m here for my friend. She actually just texted me. She’s getting married you see and um-well I’m the maid of honor. She doesn’t really have a palette for wine so she sent me. But uh, she kind of sent me in here blind with no real instructions other than ‘get us the real fancy stuff, the kind that rich snobs enjoy,’ and just saw the number of positive reviews coupled with the three dollar signs on Google.” Tav finished with an airy chuckle and a shrug as her feet tapped restlessly on the floor.
In one smooth motion, Shadowheart nods affirmatively and deposits the phone she just seized right out of her hand somewhere behind the bar and pulls out a blindfold. Tav stiffens with widened eyes and her face flushing once more. “This is a wine tasting correct? I didn't sign any waivers when I made the appointment.”
“ Relax. This is standard for all my tasting events. The reasoning is quite simple actually. Removing your ability to see will heighten your other senses which include taste and smell .” The way Shadowheart put emphasis on those three words and let her explanation hang with a pregnant pause caused Tav's breath to involuntarily hitch.
“First, I will blindfold you. Then, I will lead you out onto the veranda overlooking the gorge. You will finally allow me to hand you samples of the selection I curated for your booking. When you like what I have to offer, we can discuss pricing and catering.”
“V-very presumptuous of you. How c-can you be so s-sure?” Tav stammered while looping trembling thumbs through her belt loop and backing up into a pillar she didn’t notice was there. When did it get so hot in here?
With a cat-like grace and the silent foot-steps to match, the proprietress advanced upon her, stepping around the bar and stopping just a few inches away-close enough for Tav to catch notes of intoxicating musk and ylang ylang that wafted up from her bare neck beneath the inverted crescent moon resting above her cleavage-just barely peeking out.
"You booked my time, in my domain, and yet here you are—questioning the experience before it’s even begun?"
She pauses, curling a stray hair behind Tav’s ear in what would seem like a gentle gesture if not for the predatory gleam coming from Shadowheart as she circles her prey client, voice now brushing her ear like a whisper of silk and threat.
A heady fog disrupts any thoughts of questioning the goddess before her while an animalistic urge begins coiling in her core. Tav attempts to clear her throat and shake away the impure thoughts muddling her mind-distracting her from her task. A little bit of drool escaped but she quickly wiped it away, earning a raised eyebrow and knowing smile from Shadowheart who continued to explain herself.
"I designed this tasting with care. Every note, every vintage… chosen to draw something out of you. This is the service I offer and you’ll find I never leave a potential client wanting.” A gloved hand ghosts over Tav’s shoulder. "But if you’re already trembling, perhaps I overestimated your palate. Or your resolve."
She steps in front again, eyes glinting with dark amusement.
"So. Shall we continue? Or do you prefer your wine lukewarm and predictable, like the company you're used to?"
Attempting to somehow both straighten her spine while feigning a relaxed posture against the backless stool, Tav crossed her legs and gestured broadly to the sliding doors across the room with an easy grin that aimed to draw attention away from the blossoming heat in her cheeks and the sweat beading on her brow-very nearly losing balance and falling to the floor.
Shadowheart hummed in response, an eyebrow raised as she stepped directly behind Tav with the dark violet bandana in hand.
“May I?” Shadowheart asked, voice dropping a few octaves directly into her ears. A shiver races down Tav's spine and she lets out a long breath out before nodding. “mhm.”
The sommelier folded the bandana over Tav's face with precise and well-practiced care. Soon enough, the bandana successfully enshrouded her in darkness and Shadowheart gently placed her palm on the small of her bank after rotating Tav away and telling her to stand-presumably toward the veranda.
The bell by the door rung once more, causing a blinded Tav to practically jump out of her skin. Would there be others joining them? I thought it would just be the two of us.
“Stay right there, I'll be right back. And don't you dare take that off.”
A presence entered the winery and whoever it was elicited a warm greeting from Shadowheart.
"Welcome back, Nocturne. I presume all our books and stock are in order?"
This unwelcome interruption that stole her attention away from Tav elicited a small huff. She could hardly believe the audacity that her hostess has shown after flustering her so much. Seconds seemed to crawl into minutes.
Tav did her best to ignore the restlessness growing between her legs and the dryness of her throat with each deep inhale of the spiced incense that smelled remarkably close to some of the vintages Nocturne just described.
“Low on cases of Daggerford Clarry and Moonshae Zinfandel and I just finished bottling the last of our Mermaid Whiskey-Barrel aged Dark Maiden. We have a rather large invoice coming in from that Passion Party that Mamzell Amira had us cater yesterday and-I see I’m interrupting business . Is this your 7 o’clock?”
The way Nocturne articulated business made Tav wonder for the third time this evening if Karlach sent her to the right place. I know I’m going stag and it’s not like my bed has been warmed in weeks but still. Karlach doesn’t think I’m THAT lonely, does she?
“Yes! We were just about to begin, is the veranda set as well? I couldn’t spare a moment to remind Nightmist before her shift ended.” Tav couldn’t hear Nocturne’s answer but she hung on the delightful lilt that came from the half sigh, half hymn-like sound of appreciation from Shadowheart who had taken a few steps closer to her once more.
Nocturne stepped through the arched doorway of the main storefront, arms full with two sleek wooden cases balanced against her hip. The low hum of conversation quieted as she took in the scene before her—Tav, newly blindfolded, standing stiffly near the tasting room entrance with her hands awkwardly clasped, clearly trying not to fidget. The corners of Nocturne’s mouth twitched into a grin, amused and just a little caught off guard by how endearingly out of place Tav looked.
She set the cases down with a soft thud, dusting her hands on her vest as she glanced toward Shadowheart. The sommelier met her eyes briefly, one dark brow lifted in silent amusement. There was a flicker of something else, too—approval, maybe, or a quiet dare—before her attention slid smoothly back to Tav.
Nocturne took a few slow steps closer as well but this time behind Tav, letting her voice soften as she spoke.
"You know, when Shadowheart said you’d be blindfolded, I thought she was being dramatic again. But this?"
Her gaze lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
"You wear mystery well."
She adjusted the blindfold just slightly, her fingers light but precise. Then, with a wry smile Tav couldn’t see, she added—
"Try not to look so tense. You’re about to taste some of the finest things this place—and Shadowheart—has to offer."
A chill raced up Tav’s spine once more as she felt a familiar hand press itself against the small of her back while the other gently squeezed her shoulder and applied just enough pressure to let her know it was time to resume their appointment? Tasting? She better dispel any false ideas about her purposes for being here. Best not to mix business with pleasure after all.
“To be clear, I’m JUST here to sample your best cases. My friend’s fiance has a really sophisticated palette and while she will be drinking the cheapest ale around, he prefers spiced red and the occasional sinfully sweet white. His father owns the Ravenguard country club and will never let me live it down if their guests do not get properly sloshed on the finest pours this side of the Sword Coast.”
A beat. Wow, where did that come from? Hopefully they didn’t think she was being an over-sharer or too familiar. Another beat passes and Shadowheart hummed in acknowledgement allowing Tav to finally release the breath she didn’t know she withheld.
“Of course, and a sampling you shall have. Wine, like people, opens up best when it feels safe—unhurried, unjudged. I get the sense you are not used to putting your trust in someone else’s hands. At ease, Tav. You’re in my house now.”
With that, Shadowheart allowed one hand to release her grip on Tav to guide her through the now opened door to the veranda. Once they had both crossed that threshold, her hostess clicked the door shut and let the blindfold fall before taking a step to the side and gesturing to their new setting overlooking the gorge allowing Tav to take in the view.
She was first taken aback by the corinthian columns that wrapped around the horse-shoe portico. Upon closer inspection, Tav clocked the tasteful grapevine and thistle carvings upon each pillar’s capital. She allowed herself a moment to appreciate the nods to Greco-Roman architecture-her main area of study as an art history major. Shadowheart might as well have guided them right into an Ancient Greek painting. The soft muted clacks of her boots with each foot-step against the dark slate stone threaded through with veins of violet and silver only further solidified Tav’s musing that she has stepped into another world. The fact that this winery wasn’t teeming with customers and clients baffled the mind. Glancing upwards now, Tav let out an appreciative gasp at the ornamental vines that clung to the shallow coffers-painted a low contrast amethyst against the soft antique ivory.
Tav almost needed to squint at how barely visible the amethyst hue appeared-teasing the viewer and luring them in to appreciate their soft-spoken beauty. So enamored with her surroundings, Tav forgot she wasn’t alone. The back hairs on her neck stood up, heat once more rising to her face as she spun to see the sommelier and proprietress standing just behind and off to the side-her blind spot. This close, in this setting, with the backdrop of the setting sun and chorus of crickets, Tav felt her brain short-circuit.
She remembered knowing how to talk to a woman before; Tav certainly had a lengthy receipt of satisfied girlfriends and one-night stands that could testify to her charm. In direct contradiction to this fact, Shadowheart holds her mind and body prisoner with one arresting stare that is equal parts calculating and betraying her entertainment at Tav’s predicament. Then, suddenly, something vaguely tulip-shaped and glass like was thrust in front of her-an offering to match the ceremonial aesthetic at play. Tav accepted and grasped the wine glass in what she hoped was one smooth motion to contrast with the gay panic being broadcast on her face just now. In what felt like a small victory, Tav was able to tear her gaze away to examine both the container and its contents.
Tall and finely-stemmed, the glasses in hers and Shadowheart’s hands were blown into a slightly elongated tulip form with a delicately flared base that echoes the curvature of the columns surrounding them. The waning sunlight allows Tav to catch reflections of the amethyst mosaic tiles that encased the table in the lounge through its crystal-clear surface. The rim itself, whisper-thin. She brought the rim just below her nose while one hand wafted the wine’s scent profile up-eliciting an appreciative (maybe mocking?) murmur from Shadowheart.
“I watch a lot of reality TV ok, and I’m pretty sure this is what you’re supposed to do.” Shadowheart put up her empty hand in surrender with a disarming smile and false doe-eyes. “No judgements here, please continue.”
In one practiced tilting of the glass back, Shadowheart emptied her glass-a burnt scarlet hue staining the edge of her lips. She gestured for Tav to do the same. First impression for Tav is that this selection is warm, dusky, and layered; the unmistakable deep plum and black fig notes hit—lush, ripe, almost indulgent. Then, underneath—a dry heat of crushed cinnamon and clove, like the air of a spice shop in the back alleys of Wyrm’s Crossing. There’s a faint, elusive wisp of leather and damp stone, grounding the sweetness with something darker, more earthen—as if the wine has remembered the caves it aged in. And at the very edge—anise and shadowmint, so subtle that Tav almost doubted her senses.
She voices her summary and Tav wondered if it was merely a trick of the light or if she hallucinated the customer service mask that Shadowheart was clearly putting on; how else could she explain the way those emerald green orbs lit up, or the way her usually closed lips formed a small “oh,” in response before she demurely cleared her throat and waltzed over to the viewing area that faced the waterfall, allowing herself a glance over the sleeveless shoulder to see if Tav was coming.
“Good nose, like a bloodhound. Maybe you should get your sommelier certificate as well. Come forth, we still have plenty of wine and the whole night is ahead of us.”
Low-backed chaise lounges and splayed curved settees greeted Tav as she crossed the space between them-pleased to see her hostess on the defense in this little dance they had going on- upholstered in deep plum velvet, stitched in faint crescent patterns that were visible only when caught by candlelight or moonlight.
The structure beneath is ebonized wood, carved with subtle vine motifs echoing the etchings on the wine glasses. The wood bears the soft, worn polish of something well-kept, not new. Cushions, Tav notes appreciatively, are overstuffed but tailored, and matching bolster pillows feature silver-thread piping, invoking the subtle glint of the dark goddess Shar’s moonlight. Small round tables, like the one Shadowheart now stood near after finishing the staging, no larger than a wine barrel’s top, are placed between each seat or couple’s pairing. Constructed from blackened iron bases that resemble twisted grapevines, topped with polished obsidian or dark violet marble veined with silver. The surfaces gleam but are cool to the touch—inviting you to rest a hand, a glass, or a confession. Tav picked the empty chaise across from Shadowheart, and crossed her elbows over the small table before mentally critiquing herself and folding her hands over one another in her lap-creating a polite and professional distance between herself and the host. I’m here on business. This is NOT a date!
“Few guests ever linger here long enough. It unnerves them—being offered comfort and clarity at once. ” This effectively snaps Tav out of her flustered reverie. “Sit. The waterfall speaks plainly. I’ll pour the second glass while you decide whether to listen.”
She concedes to this. The sound grated against her senses—not harsh, but endless, like a cloak soaked in sound draped across her shoulders. It drowned out her heartbeat, her breath, her thoughts. Even her awe came muffled. A second or a lifetime later, Tav noticed the glass being proffered and absentmindedly accepts.
“Bullshit,” which raises an eyebrow from Shadowheart with a dangerous glint in her eye. “No offense, it’s just I find that hard to believe.” She swirls the contents of this much rosier blend and takes a sip. Whereas the first offering came on strong with a complex profile, this one is much simpler and humble in its presentation; a sweet creation with the vineyards grapes identifying themselves with the same quiet confidence that Shadowheart has shown her since retreating to the lounge outside. “This place oozes class, elegance, and luxury while not egregiously upcharging the inventory to reflect that. PLUS, how can anyone say no to breathtaking views like this gorge and the st-” Tav was abruptly cut off when a delicate pale finger placed itself upon her mouth. She only just noticed how close she allowed Shadowheart to advance while defending the winery.
Shadowheart’s finger lingers against Tav’s lips, the gesture feather-light but absolute—a velvet-wrapped command to be still. Her gaze sharpens, taking in every nuance of Tav's sudden breathless stillness, the way surprise flickers across her face like candlelight caught in a draft. Slowly, deliberately, Shadowheart draws that single finger down, trailing from Tav’s lips to the edge of her chin—not enough to be obscene, but enough to claim the space between them as hers. When she speaks, her voice is lower now, smooth as mulled wine, the faintest smile curving her lips—not kind, but indulgent.
"You talk too much when you're overwhelmed."
The finger leaves Tav’s chin at last, but Shadowheart does not retreat. No, she steps in closer, finalizing the gap so that the hem of her skirt brushes Tav’s knees-striking a match against Tav’s skin causing every nerve point along the point of contact to burn and tingle, so that Tav is forced to tip her chin slightly up to maintain eye contact and ignore the growing desperation for more physical contact. I must be more inebriated than I thought! The glass still dangles in Tav’s hand—forgotten. Shadowheart's own is set aside without fanfare, freeing her hands for something far more precious. She cups Tav’s jaw with a measured tenderness, tilting her just so, controlling the angle like she might the pour of a rare vintage. Their breath mingles now—wine-warm and tinged with the mist of the falls.
"Listen, Tav," she murmurs, her thumb stroking idly along Tav’s cheekbone, a gesture so natural it feels like a promise already made. "You see the value here. You feel it. That's rarer than you realize."
Her thumb stills. Her eyes narrow slightly—not in warning, but in certainty .
"So here’s what we’ll do: You’ll hire me to cater your precious wedding feast. You'll leave the wine pairings to my discretion." Shadowheart moves her face to be within an inch of Tav’s face; the air between them charged with inevitability.
"And after your duty is done—after you've toasted your friend's future—you'll come back here. For something far less professional."
Tav barely has time to process the weight of it before Shadowheart tilts her forward the last inch—sealing the unspoken contract with a kiss. It's not a fleeting thing, not a polite brush of lips. It's deep, deliberate, and commanding—the kind of kiss that leaves no room for confusion, that tells Tav in every slow drag of breath and soft press of lips that she is not merely being welcomed into Shadowheart’s world, but being taken in. And when Shadowheart finally breaks away, she does so by the barest fraction, just enough for her words to ghost against Tav’s flushed mouth: “That didn’t hurt did it?” Tav felt herself shake her head. “Good to know. For the future. Now, all you have to do is be a good girl and say yes.”
And by then, there is no real choice left to make—only the thrilling inevitability of surrender. Tav didn't even realize she had nodded until Shadowheart’s smile deepened—not a smirk, not a grin, but something dangerously satisfied, like a predator watching a creature walk willingly into its den. A soft, almost imperceptible hum of approval slipped from Shadowheart’s throat as she finally, finally pulled away fully—retreating with a grace that made Tav’s half-lidded daze feel all the more foolish. A lock of dark hair brushed across her cheek in the process, a final phantom touch that Tav would swear she could still feel minutes later.
Without missing a beat, Shadowheart stooped to retrieve the tasting ledger from the side table, her movements fluid and unhurried, as if the kiss had been merely another item on the day’s careful itinerary. She set the ledger down in Tav’s lap—light enough not to jolt her, heavy enough to anchor her. "Details for the catering are here," she said crisply, voice all business again save for the smoky undercurrent that had not—could not—be masked anymore. "Review it if you must. But your signature will be expected by week’s end."
She didn’t wait for a response. She didn’t need to.
Instead, Shadowheart leaned in one last time, hands braced casually on either arm of Tav’s seat—caging her in without touching her—and murmured, low and devastating, right into her ear: "And as for our second agreement... I'll be in touch. You’ll know when it’s time."
A whisper of leather against slate marked her departure—measured footsteps retreating toward the winery proper, her silhouette framed for a brief, burning moment against the columns and the mist. Tav sat there frozen, the ledger a dead weight across her thighs, the wineglass still tilting precariously in her hand. She finally exhaled—and it came out more like a laugh, breathless and utterly defeated.
Gods above, she played me like a damn harp.
The roar of the waterfall rose around her again, swallowing her embarrassment, her awe, and her smoldering anticipation whole. She had come for a tasting. She was leaving with a contract, a date, and a heartbeat that didn’t seem capable of finding its old rhythm again. And deep down—not a shred of her regretted it. Tav acquiesced finally with her signature in all the right places, credit card scanned for a down payment. With a shaky hand, she returned the ledger back.
“Let’s head back, if we must. You have a bride-to-be to get back to.”