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"You stupid idiot!" Their eye lids fluttered, their hand still wrapped around the hilt of the blade. They began to cough. "What the hell were you thinking!" His eyes fell to the wound, to his hip, looking for one of those flasks of potions they mixed for them all the nights by the fire. Astarion's was empty. "Anyone!" ... |
It had been a sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky, as far as the eye could tell. Yet Astarion’s had been on the body beneath him, Quinntav’s tumbling laughter in their throat when he sank his teeth into their flesh, the taste of upset still in his tongue. He would make them pay, he swore, as their fingers tangled in his ... |
It should have frustrated him, knowing that sound came not from things best met in the dark, moments shared between strangers, may fly lovers, targets to be consumed. But, no. As surely as it had been explained to him, word for word, he felt it with absolute certainty as their two minds met. |
(Happiness, longing, cohesion, the comfort of warm blankets, of sunrise, of cool, still waters ). |
All so alien to him. All so incredibly strange. And yet. |
Maybe it was Quinn, but Astarion felt his muscles loosen from the run, could almost imagine his own heart beat slowing...if he had one. Instead, he had Quinn’s in his ears, mirroring what he was certain he would sound like if he, too, could draw proper breath. |
A day on the sloping hillside, flush with grass, with endless blue sky, with the press of a purple Tiefling, yielding under his hungry embrace. Hungry for blood. And hungry for something far, far more terrifying. |
The sigh brought him to the present. |
Quinntav’s eyes had opened, though they had not risen from their place on their back, along their bedroll. Astarion had never been in their tent before, but it was rich with their personality: discarded sheafs of music, their notes tumbling towards the thin carpet as they hung from places tucked between small piles of ... |
"Are you hurt?" |
"You should be asking after yourself," Astarion started, his fury barely contained as he became aware of it, slumbering until the chance to be addressed finally appeared. "What the fuck was that, Quinntav?" His patience broke with his voice: "What the hell were you thinking, skewering yourself with your own blade!" |
Their hands went up, the meat of their wrists digging into their eyes, "I couldn’t do it. Something snapped, and I saw you there, beneath me, framed with blood and— fuck !" Astarion saw them start to rise, and sat up, pushing them back down again. |
"You don’t get to move; you’re hurt, damn you!" |
Their eyes went wide: "Shadowheart?" Assuming the worst. |
"She wasn’t there, you dolt!" He sat down, breathing roughly out in frustration. "The Cleric used the last of her healing on the other Tiefling dealing with the Bullette," he explained heatedly. "I’m afraid all you were given was the last of our healing potions. Now tell me something: what the hell possessed you to att... |
"The Bullette," their eyes skimmed off to the side, frankly ticking Astarion off as their attention fled to the least important part of what he had said. "What happened there?" |
"Are you telling me you don’t remember? Considering the head wound that’s no surprise. The blasted beast burst out of the earth and flung you into a chasm; we couldn’t actually go after you until we were sure it wasn’t about to eat one of us or crush someone to death." |
"Oh," they replied simply, their expression possibly endearing any other time, but Astarion didn’t have time with it. "And that was when I attempted to murder you all, I take it?" |
Astarion’s gaze narrowed. Quinntav seemed...nervous. Alarmed, certainly, but not in the panic stricken way he would expect someone enthralled or charmed to be: the assumption the majority had made after the report of seeing something, or someone, leaning over the Tiefling’s body had been shared. "You’re less shocked by... |
"That’s because it’s...it’s not entirely new to me at all, really." They swallowed, continuing when he cocked his head expectedly. "Astarion, this is something I’ve been dealing with for...for perhaps my entire life. I don’t go into a rage when I attack people; I’m happy when it happens. When I crave it, the violence, ... |
Astarion considered this. He recalled the glint in Quinn’s eyes at time, a brilliant beacon of delightful greed. The bodies they sometimes left behind, split into ribbons, chopped into nothing more then matter. A quirk, perhaps. One they had yet to use on him or any of the others. "Until now, you mean." |
They folded their hands in their lap, by then propping against the pillows there, angled in a way that less seemed to be done out of a need for comfort and more to put some distance between the two of them. "Until now." |
"But before you could...control them, somehow." He was trying to understand. |
"Barely, sometimes. But enough. I was always afraid that would change, and...evidentially all it takes is a good knock in the head! Or this fucking worm," their face changed, wrankling in a fury Astarion often only witnessed when they mentioned Cazador. For once, it did not delight the vampire. "It has to be this fucki... |
"And what about that thing?" |
Their eyes flickered to the side and back again, searching, no lying: "Thing?" |
"There was someone with you, in the water-." |
Their face twisted in a snarl: "Did he say something to you?" |
"So there was someone-!" |
"A goddamn nuscience is what he fucking is! My so called fucking butler, dogging my damned feet for nigh on half a damn decade-!" |
"Excuse me, did you say-?" |
"Yes! A butler!" Their hands went up, their tone did, as well, mocking an cynical. "Twisted fucking bastard says I need to give into my fucking destiny; do you know how hard it is to curl up in bed and night and think "oh, is this going to be one of those lovely evenings where some snazzy dressed freak shows up and tel... |
"And you never thought to mention this? That there’s an accomplice to your murderous urge’s desires waltzing about at night-?" |
"Oh, yeah, "there’s a top hat wearing goblin who likes to play riddles with me under the moon light, Astarion, would you like to join for a round or two? No?" You already think I’m completely daft!" |
"In a quirky way, not in a "I want to taste the flesh of your innards, darling" way!" |
"Well, good news, because I’m leaving-!" They shoved themself up again, setting their feet on the floor of the tent. |
Astarion didn’t budge. "You’re hardly in any sort of shape to stomp off to sulk!" |
"I’m leaving you all, Astarion." |
"Excuse me, darling? Did I hear correctly?" |
"I know I made a promise to you," the anger flagged, becoming desperate. "But I can’t risk waking up one day and finding my hands wrapped around your throat. What if I can’t stop myself?" |
A flash of alarm sounded in Astarion’s mind. Coupled with the image of them sprinting at him at full tilt. Of their body looming over him, smiling. Of a day under the sun, their smile childish it’s happiness. |
"My dear," his voice was measured, "you seem to forget that this deal you made was to literally stop me from ripping out the throat of any one of our delightful companions. And that as a spawn I have born witness to the worst sort of debauchery: whatever it is that has control over your mind during these violent sp... |
"How do you know?" Low, tinged with fear. "How can you say that you know me at all?" |
"Because I’m still here." He spread his arms. "I didn’t die, because you didn’t kill me." He dropped his hands to his lap, leaning in, noting when they didn’t move back again. "And that means something." |
It wasn’t fair. Not really. |
There were people in the world with better hearts. Better lives. People that deserved forgiveness and friendship and love to an extent Quinntav did not think they did. |
And yet they were forgiven. |
"Five years of fighting it, of seeing temptation and spitting in it’s face. Of saying, "No, no I will not be that person", and you choose to dismiss yourself?" Wyll tapped his head. "These things in our head burrow in deep, seeking to control, to consume, and, yes, to tempt. You are strong, my friend. Do not let this m... |
And yet they had friendship. |
"The first step towards battling the dark is recognizing it," Karlach thumped a fist against her chest, burning hot fire within. "What you’ve done by acknowledging it, trying to temper it, that takes the sort of strength any one can only dream of. I’m here for you, soldier. Any help you need, and I’ll hand it straight ... |
And they had love. Of a sort. |
"Yes, darling?" |
They were in their tent again, the vampire spawn nestled sitting in the mound of pillows he had traded out for the ottoman he had been using before, in the corner of their tent. There was a book in his hand, it’s red eye by then closed shut: Quinntav had listened to it’s whispers weeks ago and called it a Tuesday, basi... |
Quinntav lay in their cot, sitting up, their wrist cuffed to the iron support of their bed at their request as the spawn sat there. "You don’t need to watch me every night. The glyphs below the tent are warning enough." |
A glyph of alarm in case any not of their group entered, and another in the case of bloodshed. One placed by Gale, and the second by Shadowheart. |
"Hmm....yes, that’s nice, dear." He turned a page. Quinn bit their lip, expression falling flat. Fucking vampire. |
It had been three days, they were still in the Underdark, but there had been no sign of the Bullette or any of Quinntav’s more...violent urges. Everyone almost seemed to have forgotten that it had happened, to which Shadowheart had remarked to them, when this was stated, that between the "wizard who might blow us all t... |
She had still cast them a wary eye but...the sentiment had still hit home. |
"If I wear a second cuff will you get some rest?" |
"Tomorrow, maybe," he flapped a hand, Quinn wondering if he was really answering what they had said or something else conjured out of nothing. |
"There once was a girl from...Kalamazoo. She had pretty eyes but...not as much as you do ." |
Astarion's eyes flickered up. |
"Pssp pssp pssp-. " The book snapped against Quinn’s chest: "Whoa!" |
"I am not an animal!" |
"Says mister claws himself," Astarion glanced at his nails. "They don’t grow, remember!" |
"I think I know the state of my own corpse!" |
"A corpse doesn’t get hard like you do, dove-." |
The vampire jumped up, easily crossing the tent in one swift stride. Quinn found themself on the receiving end of a snarling vampire as he leaned over them, gripping their free wrist above their head and making a challenge of all teeth. "I will drink you dry if you do not get some sleep!" |
Quinn cheesed: "Promise?" |
"Can I not just sit by and ensure that you get a good night’s sleep? Aren’t we lovers? Isn’t watching someone sleep apparently romantic?" |
"I didn’t know we were-," Quinntav cut themself off, their ribbing falling by the wayside when they considered what Astarion had said. "Are you waiting for my butler to return?" |
Astarion loosened his hold, still straddling their waist with one foot on the floor and appearing too picturesque for his own good. "You said this creature comes to you in your sleep. It’s only a matter of time before he comes by to lead you into another round of blood lust...isn’t it?" |
"It could be days, honestly. If you plan on being with me for days, we may as well share cohabitation. Astarion," Quinntav’s chest blossomed with warmth. He was...truly concerned for them, wasn’t he? No, it was a matter of self preservation, Quinn wasn’t about to be unkind and assume that how he felt matched their leve... |
No, no thoughts of that. No consideration of that. Not with who I am. What I’ve done. I nearly killed him. I don’t have any right at all to want more. |
They cleared their throat, merely grinning at his furrowed brow. They’d been silent for too long. "The glyph will sound if he appears. Go to your own tent." |
Astarion’s frown deepened momentarily. "Fine. And here I was led to believe that you craved being close to me." Their chest stung at that. It was hardly a barb meant, but it still hit too close to the truth. "Sleep," he moved off of them, his voice significantly less hot then it had been previously. Quinn wouldn’t almo... |
He swept out of the tent. |
Quinn lay there. They laughed shortly, covering their eyes. What were they doing? Of course they were falling in love with someone they coerced to be close to them. To tolerate them. |
"Oh, Astarion, I’ll help you live but only if you help soothe my decrypted loneliness." They wiped at their eyes, blinking up at their ceiling, feeling their bound arm go numb. They regretted asking him to go, and as time passed, sleep alluded them entirely. |
"I promise I won't be a burden-!" |
"Alfira, I don't think you understand. With each passing day the road grows more dangerous, and you've already proven yourself to be a liability by following us out here without warning!" Quinn was barely keeping their temper in check. Back and forth they had been arguing with the other Bard since waking up at dawn and... |
Quinn saw it the moment the last cord was cut. Her expression broke, tears barely restrained by the barest grit of jaw. That she could cry so easily at their dismissal was proof enough that they were making the right decision. But that then streaks of blood from her wonderfully pitted eye sockets-. |
"Fine!" She snapped, then wilted before them. "You're right. I'm acting like a little girl; I should have known when she died that..." She shook her head...then turned about. Quinn didn't watch her gather her pitiful things: the tent Karlach had given her as a spare, the boot shine that Wyll offered after the last stor... |
Instead, they stalked to their own tent and sat down on their ottoman, unsurprised when Karlach appeared just after. Everyone present had been watching. |
"Gotta say, singer, that's the meanest I've seen you since we first met," she remarked, not looming above them despite their height. She was very good at doing her best not to come off as intimidating to anyone. "Besides that time that Redcap took a slash at Scratch. I've gotta ask, why the devil were you so harsh? Alf... |
"She's been lucky thus far. That's all it is." They leaned forward, elbows on their thighs, a biting regret in their chest. "If you want a song, go ask someone else." |
"You're afraid." |
Their eyes flickered up. |
"You're afraid of yourself, that's what's going on." |
"Do you know how often it is that I imagine carving out Astarion's eyes? I love his eyes. I think I..." they sat up, sighing roughly, ignoring the stubborn resolve of her expression. "I'm tired, Karlach. Until I figure this out, I'm not taking the gamble." |
They stood up, Karlach reaching for them. Somewhere Alfira cursed, no doubt finally noticing the Hunter's Mark on her person. Karlach's returning glance was troubled. "Escort her out." |
"Yes. Captain." |
Quinn stalked away, towards the river where they drew their water, down the bank where the willows dipped and baths could be taken. It was absent of anyone, not that catching a flash of ass on accident was impossible at that point. But Quinn was grateful for the solitude. In an hour they would give the word to set out ... |
And yet they had allowed her in to begin with... |
"There you are." |
Astarion sat beside them on the riverbank, small pebbles crunching underfoot, his lack of muttering for the grime a sure sign of his development in his time on the road. Or maybe the complaints had been for show: someone forced to hunt rats in a city sewer could not be a complete stranger to everything foul. |
"That was quite a display. I'm surprised it took this long." |
"Are you not here to scold me for my remarkable cruelty?" |
"It's as was said, darling, Alfira was a burden. An entertaining one, but a problem all the same. It was only a matter of time before that innocence was dashed, one way or another. Whether at your hand, or another's." He had been looking out on the water as he said this, but Astarion must have heard the exhale of their... |
They had done the right thing; Astarion wasn't making up petty excuses or holding them to an esteem that seemed utterly terrifying in it's constant presence. As much as Quinntav... appreciated everyone's confidence in them, it was always so exhausting to attempt to maintain the same amount of enthusiasm. Sometimes it w... |
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