It is not generosity, because he is not a soft enough man for something such at that, but there is not a touch of reservation when he presses the hefty bag of gald into her hand. It feels right, in a world where nothing he does ever is. He smiles at her with a shark’s tooth grin and says that it is nothing, and that he will be back next month with more. He leaves quickly so that he will not have to watch how her face buckles under with grateful tears and her knees hit the floor under the weight of her joy.
He remains true to his word, which is something of a rarity in his current line of work. He returns at the first of each month on the minute with his palms heaping with gald, and the matron never grows any less thunderstruck to see him.
—from And Thundering Hearts
Given my current obsession with the Tales of games, I thought it would be fitting to look for a fic to coincide with said obsession. And while I tried to keep my search for femslash in mind, when running across this fic I knew I had to make an exception.