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"The forces of Avernus seem remarkably amiable." |
"Yeah, I learned that from pops. It was a game in Avernus." |
"But mate, really if you need to talk about it, especially since your go to is hardly available, I'm here for you." |
"Uh. Thank you. Truly, Karlach." Astarion had not expected the offer, but it was Karlach, and if there was any one that could be marked as rather affectionate it was the Asmodeus Tiefling. "I'm going to discuss it with Quinn today. Feelings aside, at this point it's as we feared. If they're ignoring warning signs of en... |
It was that very afternoon, actually. |
Astarion was scouting around what would be the perimeter of their camp, checking for tracks, traps, and other nusciences. He let himself be distracted, more so since Quinn had also volunteered to check, if without warning anyone before walking off. Or offering to go with Astarion. There was a point the vampire had cros... |
Quinntav walking with him to scout if only to steal some time alone for conversation or for the sake of being in one another’s company. Astarion entering their tent at night and joining them in their cot without comment from either. Quinn choosing to sit with him foremost at the fire. Astarion welcoming their dishevele... |
All had ceased. |
Quinn no longer joined him in strolls, in mealtime, in good nights, in good mornings. In. |
. They existed. It should have softened the blow to know that they were the same with everyone. No more learning steps from Wyll, trading blows with Lae’zel, napping in the wagon with Karlach, taking tea with Shadowheart, nodding along to Gale’s spiels— occasionally recalling a lesson— or meditating with Halsin. No pla... |
Maybe Astarion was the jealous sort. Even when everyone was being neglected. But he still felt slighted in a way that was unique. |
Astarion was contemplating how he could ask Quinn to cease in something that was, by all accounts, |
when he smelled their blood. It wafted in on the breeze, dancing between shuddering, turning leaves, and he was off in an instant. It was too much for a knick, for a bite, or split bruise. |
He found them kneeling over a bear trap, it’s teeth snapped around their ankle as they attempted to pry it open with their bare fucking hands. |
"Quinn!" His hushed shout seemed almost unnoticed, and then he was there beside them, Quinntav no doubt having noticed of course, but not even uttering a sound as they struggled again the thing chewing into them. "How in the hells did this happen? KARLACH!" |
The camp was close enough, she was sure to bound towards them at any moment-. |
"Why haven’t you called for help; you hardly have the strength for that! Use a blade, dammit-!" |
"It may chip," they said with a grunt, letting go, letting it fucking snap completely back in, and utterly horrifying him. "My hands are useless." |
"Obviously!" He dropped to his knees, looking over the mechanism for the catch. He’d taken apart enough of these in one fucking life time, and if he couldn’t do it, the Barbarian-. |
"For fighting." |
He found the springs necessary for pushing, maneuvering to do just so. " |
"For fighting. A sword is better for fighting." |
"And what about your fucking leg!" He shoved down the springs, and the thing fell open. It caught on their flesh, but Quinntav at least noticed, angling their leg out and stepping back, directly on the bleeding thing. "Don’t you know how to disarm one of these things," Astarion stood up, rifling through the potion hols... |
"What happened!" A look at the leg. "Q! What the fuck, man! Are you okay?" |
"My sword isn’t chipped." |
"Wha-?" She looked to Astarion for answers, but Quinntav had given back the bottle, and he flung it into the forest. |
"I asked you a fucking question, Quinntav! You know how to disarm animal traps, why did you |
Quinn was quiet. Then. "I don’t know." |
They began walking away, Karlach disagreed, swooping in and picking them up. With the most placid face imaginable, Quinn allowed this, and Astarion stood there, looking down at the trap near his feet. |
It wasn’t logical. |
The ring hadn’t taken their sense, it took their emotion. Their feelings. But it didn’t strike them dumb. Why would they let themself experience more pain the necessary? |
One way or another, something had to be done. He had to take it off, be rid of it. |
Go back to cuffs and glyphs? Twitching nightmares and flashes of self-loathing every time they considered putting Astarion’s ears on display behind glass, "like butterfly’s wings"? Could he do that to them? Because he missed them? No. He had been there, standing in their place. Quinntav would not be another slave. |
"Are you hungry?" |
Everyone looked up. Not everyone at once, no, conversation lulled as each noticed, if they hadn't heard. Quinntav standing there beside Astarion, the vampire mulling over his wine beside the fire with several of their number, up until they had asked. Simply. Asked. |
Astarion tossed his goblet aside and stood, face burning. He grabbed the Tiefling, the Hunter being pulled along without complaint. Their tent was nearest, and he forced them inside, unafraid of tripping over anything along the way. Inside was the cot. Nothing else, no adornments, nothing to rest their head on, nothing... |
"What was that?" |
"I asked you if you were hungry," Quinntav repeated, sitting down with their hands in their knees. The leg was healed by a frowning Shadowheart, the Cleric as baffled by the situation as everyone else had been. She ordered them to stay off of it, and it seemed that they could at least take basic commands. |
"In front of the entire camp?" |
"Everyone knows." |
"Of course everyone knows! But you don't, you don't ask like-," he covered his face, holding back a yell. |
"I've asked before." |
"Not like that! You've flirted, we've flirted, you make jokes, I act coy, everyone gags into their soup over how horribly jealous they are. Nothing like what just occurred!" |
"Are you not hungry?" |
"I'm fucking ravenous!" He straddled their lap, grabbing at their throat. They didn't support him, didn't reach into his hair, didn't comment about spoiling desert. Nothing. Astarion slumped into them, felt them fail to give. They sat there. And didn't. Do. Anything. |
"We can catch a boar." |
"I hate what you've become, fool." He barely had the will to argue. To be angry. Though he was angry. He was roiling in it. Only some other regrets were greater. "Do you know what you remind me of? Cazador's victims. Placid. Like corpses. Unless he made them hurt. Made them scream and fight and tear. You remind me of m... |
Astarion pulled off the ring and darted from the tent. |
They were running. A golden path, trampled by a hundred feet, a hundred foot falls, ten thousand, million, trillion breaths in a single life. Running, flying, a shooting arrow faster then any eye could see! |
She cried with laughter, they made their landing at her feet, but flew towards the heavens, her arms small but strong. Three hundred years of living all to be ready for just for them. |
She spun them both, their feet braced against her stomach, their arms out, tail out. She was strong, but someday they would be stronger. Someday they would carry her across the whole world, and she would never need to walk again! |
"See the sea, Nodel," she asked in their ear, pointing far and wide. All around the yellow went on, a ride of glittering gold. Of food. "What do you see?" |
"Bread and buns and cookies!" |
"That's right! Bread and buns and cookies, just for you," they giggled as she poked their stomach, brown flesh against bare purple. People called them the moon child, the stray in the street, the bastard. They saw her ears, her narrow chin, her voice. They saw themself. "Selune guide you, Nodel," she pressed her forehe... |
They were running. |
Scrabbling in the dirt. It was dark, too fucking dark. They hadn't seen Astarion throw the thing, but they'd seen his arm drop, his eyes on the tree line, not a whisper to be heard as Quinn flung themself into the forest to look for it. |
The tears were getting in the way, making them useless, making them weak, turning soil to mud under their cuticles, in their skin and hair, searching, digging, casting out for the bond that was no longer there. Five hours of attunement, near to three days of blessed quiet. |
"Itmustbehere, it must be! Where the fuck is it, Astarion!" |
"It's over, Quinntav." |
"No, nonono, it isn't," digging, moving, sweeping out hands, fingers, palms. "Why? Why? Why did you take it from me? Astarion-," the last sob shook them. They clutched at their head, kneeling in the filth. If they could just get a fucking hold of their emotions for ten seconds. The anger, the misery-. |
"You were dead, Quinn! You felt nothing, you cared for nothing!" |
They shouted back: "That's how it's supposed to be! I can't be me! I can't -!" The anger, the misery, the sweet goddamn relief of having it off of them. "I can't." |
Shifting leaves. Sobbing. Their sobbing, Hells, it couldn't stop. A brush of a mind against theirs, cracking, soothing, a hand on their shoulder. They broke a part of their promise, at once sitting up, wrapping their arms around their Star without invitation. But he held them in return, yet more relief added to their o... |
"It hurt, Astarion. It wasn't supposed to hurt. I was screaming the entire time but I didn't know. I didn't feel a thing." |
"I had no idea. I couldn't see anything, sweet. You were nothing like yourself. We are never doing anything like that again." |
"I've been terrible to you." |
"What? A bit cold in bed? Is that so terrible?" |
"Just for once I didn't want you to have to carry me." |
"Says the one who would never let my feet touch the ground if they had half a chance." |
"I missed you, Astarion." |
Astarion pulled away, only enough to press their forehead together. The bridges of their noses. "And I, you, dear." |
"I'm sorry for touching you without permission." |
"You don't need it. Quinntav. Look at me." They looked at him, into his eyes: strawberry jam, sweeter still. Amusement blushed across their subconscious. Amusement, and adoration. "Now that...that is a comparison I have not yet heard." |
"I would spread you across satin sheets and devour you if given the chance." |
"You will." His lips brushed their's. "Touch me. Whenever you please, touch me." The smallest kiss. "I will not have you unfeeling again." |
Quinn's breath caught in their throat. They buried their face in Astarion's neck again, and he continued to hold him. They held each other, trembling against the cold night. |
"I asked him to show me some of myself. The Emperor." |
After leaving the forest the two had retired to Astarion's tent. They curled up under a thick fur, leaving their clothing by the way side. Astarion had never expected the intimacy of nudity without sex to be so appealing, but it was the closest to warm he ever came to feeling, with his Tiefling tracing patterns into hi... |
"You hadn't asked before," Astarion drew back to look at them, their hand stilling to lay on his side. There wasn't a lot of room in that small space, but the vampire had never felt a complaint. |
"He said the truth would be detrimental. From before, or during my thousand years of darkness, or however long it has been." They made a face. "Perhaps not a thousand, but...a while." |
"Are you saying that this is less robbing the cradle and more..." |
"Professor and student?" |
"I can play professor," Astarion cocked a smile, Quinntav chuckling pleasantly. "So. How did you convince him?" |
"I asked him to...show me something good. Innocent. He showed me my childhood." |
"Oh. And what was that like?" |
"Mundane," he watched them smile, the Tiefling lifting themself up on their elbows. "Quaint. A village named, cleverly, Bywater. Can you guess why?" |
"The rich expanse of desert life outside your front door," the vampire asked, smirking at the light in their eyes, moving away a lock from their forehead that fell back twice as fast. |
"A farming community. And my mother, a farmer. Not only that but," their attention flitted away in thought. "A follower of Selune." |
"No shit," Astarion uttered, Quinntav snickering at his profanity. "Have you told our resident Cleric the news?" |
"No," their smile waned. "I didn’t think it was important. I would have told you immediately, otherwise. All of it. She was a wood Elf. My...donor, so to speak, was a traveling entertainer. They met during some...festival of sorts. Had a few rounds and, well, here I am." |
"Here you are. And despite all things you still found the limelight." |
"Despite all things..." they chewed at their lip, a tick if there ever was one, and Astarion used his thumb to smooth away the press of bone against skin. "That was perhaps...a hundred and twenty years ago." |
"Hells, Quinntav. You only have five from the circus." |
"And a scant few from childhood itself. If you would call those gracious glimpses that. I believe...he thinks anything he has to show me otherwise could break me." A haze of exhaustion they were allowing Astarion to see more and more often shuddered their gaze. "There’s no telling how many people I’ve killed. Or who. S... |
"That she was your first." |
"Or someone else in Bywater. Something or someone to drive me out." |
"We can find it. This...quaint little village." |
"I tried looking at a map and...Astarion it’s very far away. No one near the direction we’re headed." |
"Then put a pin in it. Literally or metaphorically," Astarion said, the veil lifting to reveal their curiosity underneath. "When we’re rid of these worms, we make the trek. See the sights. Look at...trowels and corn and see whatever it is that you people find so appealing." |
"You people"? Am I a yokel now?" |
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