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The vampire’s quiet for a moment, watching the upturned golden look that reflects the fire back to him hurt and plead silently. |
"Fine. But!" He holds a hand up, interrupting the sigh of relief from the other, "Only because I can’t wait to see what you think I could possibly do on a boat of all things. And because it’ll ease your worries." |
Orion is overwhelmed by indecision and the flurry of moments he should be judging now, and now, and right now. Each breath, each quarter of a second that passes, he knows the more he’s absent the more he misses, and it’s stacking up faster and faster. Orion freezes. |
The enemy ambusher flanking Astarion has her blades out. They flash with deadly precision, cloak floating back behind her with the motion. Both daggers find their mark deep into Astarion’s side, making him cry out. The side of his carefully mended gambeson immediately darkens with blood. There’s a gruesome noise when t... |
Orion can’t even process a want or fear, an instinct, not even a noise. He’s completely numb, his mind ejecting to some other realm. So far gone, when he’s struck by a battle hammer on the shoulder that jostles his entire frame and pushes his collarbone sickeningly low, he doesn’t even respond to the shooting ache. Dis... |
Those wounds are deep, judging by the amount of blade he saw disappear into Astarion. The fighter’s blood runs cold, the idea to shout dies as just a passing thought. His stomach lurches as blood continues to pour out from between the vampire’s clutching hands. The entire side of his companion and the ground under him ... |
There are other crashes, yelps, and grunts of a fight he can’t seem to pull to focus. His ax is weightless in his hands he’s so unfeeling, stuck staring uselessly at the elf across the clearing. He could run to help, but how? His legs are more than useless. Besides, he’s no medic. Astarion |
die, couldn’t he? And he’s just standing here and watching, surrounded by enemies who would love to find out. He promised himself that he’d never find out, that he’d never see Astarion hurt, and yet here he is with just a blank mind and a statue of a body. A flash of a different fight, in a different life overlay the f... |
Rain pelts down on him as the cobblestones dig up into the leather soles of his boots. He looks down at them, at the blood draining around the grooves in the street towards. Again, blood he shared with another, blood he wasn’t able to protect. And here, too, he was paralyzed. |
"...what are you doing? Orion!?" The still scene in front of him blurs, then shakes violently as Wyll grabs him by the back of his chest plate. The warlock is inches from his face, wielding a rapier of light out to an approaching attacker just to buy them a second. |
"Snap out of it! Orion! We need you in this - don’t lose it now!" |
Orion blinks, recognizing the one infernal and one stone eye boring into him, commanding him to come to. Wyll was still well, still fighting, and Orion couldn’t let him do it alone. |
The grip on his weapon tightens, conviction set, but all he can manage to do is look over his shoulder at Astarion anyway. The other man balls tightly onto his knees, making no noise, no movement... |
Orion!" Wyll gives the armor another brisk shake, then tosses the fighter directly into the fray. Do or die. The world snaps back into focus. |
Years of training take over. Decisions need to be made now. No time to think. Anything that he had missed would have to remain unnoticed. The scared young man who just wants to run to Astarion’s side and |
gets pushed aside |
Instead, it’s the fighter who stands tall. Before him skulls cleave and armor crumples like foil, crushing its wearers. Blood flies, wounds opened by him are cauterized shut again by the pure energy of Wyll’s spells striking true. It’s a gruesome duet that ends in mere seconds and leaves smoldering, motionless carnage ... |
As soon as the last body thuds to the ground, Orion’s ax joins it there. He twists on his heel to sprint to Astarion’s side, his only cohesive thought is to be with him. He falls to the bloody dirt, "Astarion - hold on, not now, not now, notnownotnow... I’m gonna get you back. Come on-" |
" Astarion bites back without looking up, hissing through his teeth. "It |
" each sound is torture, a fight on its own. "Give me. A moment." |
Orion’s hand hovers nervously over him, shaking, his mouth dry. |
"I’m sorry, this was my fault, I shouldn’t have told you to... We could have seen her. I’m sorry. Let me do something, I’m not leaving you here." Panic is mounting as he realizes just how useless he is at this moment. Only good at destroying, no good at cleaning up the mess once destruction has been wrought. |
All too many commands, curses, and pleas flood Astarion’s mind. They roll around like something barbed, catching each other and ripping and tearing at everything inside of him. At each other. Unable to speak, instead they lash out to Orion’s mind, its parasite, directly. |
I can’t fucking move. Don’t make me - it’ll hurt worse. I’m not going anywhere. Help me. I’m immortal. Can’t die. Can’t die. I don’t want to die. It. Hurts. |
The half elf recoils at first at the rushed flood of thoughts, but recovers and shifts even closer, heart pounding, lost. He doesn’t look up when Wyll approaches while digging something out of his pack. |
"I know, I know, that looks nasty... here." He passes the familiar bottle to Orion, catching his armored hand in his own before he releases it. |
"Give this to Astarion. Stay. Here. Fight off anyone else that comes, I know you can." |
The devil’s intense stare says more than that, not just |
Orion nods. He understands. |
Wyll looks to Astarion. "And you - Don’t die. I’ll be back with Shadowheart. We’ll get you right." The Blade forces a smile, "I won’t let our favorite leech-" |
Astarion’s deep, guttural command cuts through all pretense, all niceties. Wyll blinks, but understands the urgency immediately and takes a couple steps backwards before taking off. |
Orion’s nervous, fumbling hands slip on the cork before he yells in frustration and rips his gauntlets off, throwing them aside. The bottle pops open easily with his bare hands. He holds it under Astarion’s mouth, grateful that his shaking has settled now that he’s been given a task. "You have to." He can’t help the sh... |
Astarion groans. Sitting up enough to do that would stretch his wounds out, and let them bleed freely again, but his energy is fading and he can’t protest more than that. His thoughts are too fogged to come up with any other idea. |
"I know, but if you can’t do it on your own I’ll have to push you on your side and pour it down your throat. Your choice." |
An even more miserable idea than the first... Astarion weighs his options, and decides that if he’s going to go through excruciating pain again, it’ll be on his terms. A bloodied, pale hand lashes out and grips Orion’s bracer. His grip slides on the metal, but stays, and he pulls the arm closer to himself. The leather ... |
"I’ll do it, dammit-!" His voice is deep, rough, ragged. Blood is dripping from his mouth now and he stares down the potion in front of him as if it’s his newest nemesis. Insufferable pain, or death. How he wished he wouldn’t end up in this situation over and over again like this... But he has done it before, and he c... |
The fighter lets his arm be controlled, holding it steady through Astarion’s pained quivers. He pushes it up and against the vampire’s lower lip. Ready. |
With a sharp inhale, and herculean effort, Astarion sits up fully and pulls Orion’s arm, and the potion, with him to drain it fast. Orion follows through with the motion, tilting the bottle as needed. Sharp, wrenching pain makes Astarion’s vision swim and the world twist as he can feel the gruesome shift of cut flesh a... |
He drinks fast, despite the world spinning, and releases Orion’s arm with a cry as soon as he’s done. The bottle’s tossed aside, and the elf leans over again, hand ghosting over his own wounds, too sensitive to touch now. They still burn, but now in a sickening way as the potion gets to work to weave flesh back togethe... |
"Orion." He gasps, still crouched over himself. |
"Looks like we’re moving our next night time encounter up quite a bit sooner." |
The fighter scoffs, a relieved smile flashing for just as long as he dares to feel it. |
"Not if you’re going to just let it all go to waste again. No point in filling a bucket with a hole." |
Make me laugh." Astarion shoots a dagger of a look back up, with the slightest glimmer of mischievous appreciation in the red. |
"You started it, but of course. Only because you’re bleeding all over the place." |
Orion finally settles back into a full sit, his shoulders slumping and head falling back in relief that the worst of it seems to have passed. |
It takes only a few moments for the red bloom on Astarion’s side to stop growing, and then finally, stop altogether. Still in immense amounts of pain, the vampire doesn’t have much more to say, and Orion waits with bated breath as if the potion could suddenly reverse. The only noise to accompany them is the shifting of... |
"It wasn’t your fault, you know. I’ll let you take the blame since I can’t sink something sharp into the actual person that caused it, but you're just taking the fall." |
The half-elf's brow pinches. |
"You acted under my guidance, I contributed at least that way. And again I failed you when you were caught by someone I didn't see. Then when I couldn’t make it to you... Three moments I could've prevented this, and didn't." |
Left to watch the self scrutiny, Astarion can only grapple with the roiling confusion of |
. Why did he endeavor over this so hard, blame himself, put on this show about it? Orion claims to not want anything more than a cure and to go home, so what's all this effort for? |
"Most people would call me a blind idiot for missing the rat myself. I don’t need them accusing me of passing that off onto you. So, don’t go spreading it around that either of us missed her, hm?" He glances away for a moment, then comes back with a new thought: "I'm already bleeding out. Making me watch you torture yo... |
The fighter’s look grazes over him, through him, in that way that makes him feel warm but scared. Like he’s known. "You're right. You don't need to hear me go on." |
"Of course I’m right." Astarion rolls his shoulder, wincing at the easing pain, "If you've anything more entertaining to discuss, well, we'll likely be here for a moment." |
"Mm." Orion shifts, one knee up and the other curled under himself. "Something entertaining... I'm not a very good story teller. I'd read your book to you, but it's not in your pack I don't think?" Astarion shakes his head with an earnest smile that’s touched by the offer. One that perhaps he’ll have to take him up on ... |
"What do you want to talk about then?" |
"You want me to pick? Come now, if you can’t even regale an injured ally in his possibly last moments with a battle story, what good are you as a soldier anyway?" |
Orion slumps back with a disbelieving laugh, "Sure don’t sound like you’re in your last moments... but fine, if you just want to hear me drone on while you die..." |
"Well honestly, I’d rather be in a massive feather bed, wonderfully |
stabbed, surrounded by beautiful people, wine, and the bloodiest of dinners but. You’ll do." The vampire gives a dismissive wave towards the other, as if his company wasn’t one of the most important things in his life right now. "Let's see... why don't you tell me about how you froze out there?" That red look cuts bac... |
Even under the pauldrons, it’s easy to see Orion’s shoulders drop. "You were clutching at two stab wounds, and you still noticed?" He rubs a hand down his jaw to hide his embarrassed smile. He tries not to think how that meant when Astarion was hurt, he looked to him. Tries not to think of how that makes him happy. |
"I'm very perceptive. Now, don't deflect. Remember the whole dying and occupying my last moments thing?" |
"Firstly, you're not dying. Second: of course, Astarion, let me just bare my deepest fears and biggest insecurities to you. For entertainment." |
"That is precisely what I want, yes." |
Orion laughs and pushes his hair back to avoid making eye contact, "One day, I'm going to figure out how to say no to you..." |
"I’ll take that as a challenge." |
Another laugh, and Orion laces his fingers together, staring at them with a fading smile as he pulls the thread on an old memory. |
"It's a whole story - which is exactly what you were hoping for, I think. Some family drama, even..." he glances back up, downright bashful, "I’ll tell you, but you don’t talk about it to anyone else, okay?" |
"Darling, keeping secrets is what I do, I would never." Astarion holds a hand over his heart, a swear he’s broken countless times, but something pulling at him says |
This one he’ll take to the grave if Orion asked. The other nods, satisfied with the answer because he trusts Astarion far too much. |
"I've never frozen like that before, except when I was a kid. I was big enough to think I was grown, but still young enough that I wasn't sure what to do with all the new strength and height yet. Mom always said I reminded her of a fawn at that age, I guess I get why." He blinks hard, bringing his thoughts back to the ... |
"That was stupid of you." |
"Yes, it was. Dad wanted to hire them for something, they turned him down, and it put him in a tight spot. I didn't even bother to ask why they did, or stop to think if there was a better way to help. I just got it in my head that they needed to be taught a lesson." |
Astarion's brows lift in unexpected amusement. He never would have guessed his level headed soldier used to be so hot headed. And the eagerness for violence, even at that young of an age? Some people are just born with talents, he guesses. |
"And I'm assuming you didn't send them home in coffins, mission accomplished?" |
"Hah, no. Of course not. I think I wanted to... prove myself? Make my mark? I don’t know. All I actually did was get beaten senseless. Turns out they weren’t interested in going easy on me just because I was young." He tilts his head with a sheepish chuckle, "I wouldn’t have either after some of the things I had said." |
"To be a fly on the wall when that happened..." |
Orion points that half smile back up at him, "Maybe you were. Can you do bugs, as spawn? I know the real things can do bats, wolves... surely a fly is easier, right? You could handle that?" |
"I’m sorry - I believe we left off at the part where you made a fool of yourself and were then beaten and humiliated in the street for it?" |
Another laugh, bouncing straight from his chest. It isn’t graceful or polite, but Astarion can’t help but smile with him because of it. It’s beautiful. |
"Right, that part..." hands up in surrender, "Face so swollen you couldn’t recognize me, ribs broken, couple joints dislocated..." He motions to Astarion’s wound, "You get it." |
"I do." there are other things he remembers, more in tune with what Orion’s describing, that he can relate to. "Trust me." |
The fighter seems to notice, clears his throat, and rubs a fist in two circles over his heart: |
.’ A quick sign he picked up somewhere, Astarion’s never asked, but he appreciates the brevity of the movement. With the quiet acknowledgement, the moment passes. |
"They... were going to kill me. I think. Until they got bored kicking me on the ground. I stayed there that night, passed out right in the street. You know how Baldur’s Gate is, no one else’s business, so no one even looked twice at some kid in the gutter." |
"Ah, yes. Home." |
"Hah, yeah. Home. Speaking of, I went home the next morning. Nearly knocked Dallin over while he was running out to go look for me." Orion’s voice drops, eyes close. "I’ve never seen him so furious. At me, at the people who had done it to me... Dallin liked to fight, too, but he was better at it than me. More skilled..... |
"Suppose that gallant, knight in shining armor behavior is genetic, then. It’s a wonder either of you made it to the age you did." |
Orion’s silent for a moment, studying the ground hard before continuing, acting as if he didn’t hear Astarion’s last comment. |
"He waited a couple days. Pinned down their hideout, figured out who they were and how they fought. Where they liked to drink, the gear they had, casters, abilities... he did his research. I got patched up, braced, bandaged, and he put a sword in my hand again. Told me if I was going to make problems that other people ... |
"So we head out. Two kid brothers, with poorly sharpened swords, and nothing but revenge on the mind. We found them, and got exactly what we wanted. The fight broke out |
Astarion... and I froze." He looks up to the sky, approaching dark blue, and blinks a couple times to force back the burn of his eyes. "I was too far away from Dalin. We didn’t have a plan, we just ran in. So when they kicked him down, there was nothing I could do. I knew I needed to help... the sound his back made. I ... |
"When I came to, I was at home. Guards broke up the fight, carried us both back. Should’ve taken us to prison, really, but they knew our parents. And they pitied us. Pitied Dallin." His voice cracks, but he pulls his shoulders back with a throat clear to compose himself. Astarion sees the man he met off the nautiloid, ... |
"Dallin couldn’t move his legs. Couldn’t feel them. Whole host of healers revolved in and out and none of them were able to fix it." |
The last hanging on rays of the sun are clipped, relenting to the smothering navy of the sky. For a moment, Astarion sees the Orion from then. His younger face is easy to imagine. Freckles lighter, the light smile lines around his eyes gone. He’s stony, unfeeling, standing straight and staring blankly ahead while the h... |
"Don’t be so broken up about it, it’s hardly your fault that he stepped into your fight. One he couldn’t handle, no less. He had to have known something like that was a possibility." Astarion watches, waits, and seeing no change in that steeled expression, continues. "Not me, though. Your brother is exceedingly valorou... |
Orion scoffs, trying to force away the smile that pulls from him. Astarion’s getting too good at cracking his composure. |
"I’m sure you will, considering how often you speak on things you’d like to hold against me." |
"Oh? That’s new from you. Feeling bold only when I’m hurt? We’ll see if you can keep that up when this gets mended." |
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