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Silence fell over the group. |
Zevlor was not aware of his surroundings anymore. Someone started crying next to him; another started yelling. He stood staunch, as he did so long ago when the Absolute enthralled him, and stared down at the scrying disk. Even once the scrying disk had vanished when Gale excused him due to his orb beginning to act up a... |
The gaping void in his chest where his oath was once was yawning. Every fragment of hope he had left toppled over the edge and disappeared into it. A numbness enclosed around his entire form as the void just kept growing and growing. |
He had failed the good people of Elturel. |
He had failed the tieflings that were under his care. |
He had failed Hintha. |
There was a certain easiness to just follow Astarion’s lead. Astarion used that. He took the reigns, the leash and he revelled in it. He was a willing God. Gale did not know how he did it. He had still not taken to that part of Godhood himself. It probably helped that he now really had nothing to offer. |
His world revolved around Astarion. The thing that scared him about that was, that he didn’t want it any other way. Astarion controlled him, filled everything and still Gale wanted more. He did not know that there was more for Astarion to take and he still found it. |
Gale sat down, his back rigid against the back of the chair. It made him feel the scars. His own poem to Astarion, that the vampire had cut into his flesh. They were ugly, they marred him in a way, that turned his stomach, whenever he used a scrying eye to look at his back. And he looked. Sometimes for hours. He let As... |
The collar was hidden underneath his fancy robes. He looked the part of an archmage, because it was useful for Astarion today. He was presented as a partner, an equal. Maybe not as a God, but as powerful. A mage. |
Astarion had invited one of the Lords of the city. He reminded Gale a bot of an elven Gortash, if he was being honest, which really wasn’t the best look on anyone. He looked cruel and cunning and fat from the good life. He had a small mustache, that did nothing for his face. |
"It is good that we both look as good as we do. He makes one think, that evil actually is ugly." Astarion’s thought curled around Gale’s brain, offering a connection that Gale greedily latched on to. He raised an eyebrow and answered into Astarion’s head. "I am not evil." |
The vampire smirked and kissed him on the forehead. He pushed Gale’s hair behind his ears. It was a possessive gesture, even though it was very low key for how Astarion usually was. Gale understood. He wanted something from this Lord. Cooperation. Money. Whatever it was, it was part of his plans. |
"You two entertain each other for a while. I shall return shortly." |
Gale gazed after Astarion, until he had closed the door behind him. He missed him already, pathetic as it was. His master was very skilled at reducing his world, until he wasn’t just the center, but...everything, really. Gale would have been mortified by how much he clang to the vampire, how much he needed him, if Asta... |
But, Gale did whatever Astarion wanted. That was how they worked. That was, what made Gale sated in a way he had never felt before. Life was easy. Unlife. Easy and beautiful. |
Even when it saw him entertaining sleazy lords. |
He sighed eternally and turned to the lord, leaning back to feel the poem again. "Lord Ravelle, isn’t it? Tell me, are you a lance player?" |
"Can’t say I thought that was going to be the type of entertaining I would be offered." Ravelle grinned and then let his gaze graze over Gale. |
Gale was close to laughing. The man thought Astarion had offered HIM up? Did he not know how possessive the vampire was? Even if Astarion himself would lose interest in Gale (a possibility that turned Gale’s stomach), he would never allow anyone else to touch him. He would probably flay them or find new, inventive ways... |
Ravelle hummed. "It is better that way. No offense, but I do think, I would enjoy being entertained by Cazador’s boy again." His grin was a wound to happen. |
Gale blinked and pushed into the man’s thoughts before he even actively decided to do so. There were memories, old, a bit faded. Astarion. He did not yet have his scars. (Scars, Gale had healed. It had been the most pleasurable moment of his life.) But there was blood and moaning that sounded nothing like Astarion’s no... |
The noises. Skin slapping. Groaning from Ravelle. |
Ravelle started to stand up. "If you have a lance board, I am open to –" He fell over, fast asleep. |
Gale stood up, his hands on his back. He took the few steps and towered over the man. He kicked him over, so he could take stock of his face and neck and belly under a truly horrible shirt. Gale cocked his head and pushed the shirt open with a mage hand, inspected the flesh underneath, the bulge under his trousers. He ... |
"Master Dekarios? What are you doing?" Tara landed on his shoulder and looked at the man on the floor. |
"I... I don’t know." |
What was he doing? He started shaking. He was thinking about torturing a man. Not even because he deserved it, even though he did, but because he had touched Astarion. |
This wasn’t him. It wasn’t. He was a GOOD person! He tried to, at least. He had done horrible things, yes. But... that hadn’t really been him, not quite. |
Elminster, shaking and scared and oh-so-delicious roamed through his head, whined. |
That had been different. |
That had been Astarion’s doing. Astarion was sin incarnated. Evil, yes. |
He wasn’t. He...he wasn’t, was he? |
"Tara... Am I a good person?" |
Of course. Yes. |
He stared down at Ravelle. He was a good person. Yes. But for how long? That was, what Astarion’s smirk had meant. That he was lost. |
You could make him better. You could try to remind him of his soul, make him less of a monster. |
It was something he should have tried, yes. He did, from time to time. He liked to think, that Astarion would be way worse without him. But how true was that, really? How could he know? What he did know was, that he was standing above a man and he was thinking about torturing him to death. |
He could not let himself become this way. He couldn’t. He was too powerful for this. |
"We are going, Tara." |
He pressed her close to himself and opened a portal. It took him away to Waterdeep. When he stepped out, stood in his own tower, he bit his lip. His fingers found his ear, where no earring was left. He missed it for a moment. |
"No more Gods for me. They never do me any good." |
No more Gods. Only him. His own conscience. Maybe he would be able to grow it back. There would be a lot of space inside of him without Astarion. |
Gods. It already hurt. |
He just wanted to turn back. Throw himself at Astarion’s feet. Forget. |
He would be so angry. Magnificent in his rage. |
Get a grip, Dekarios. Stop being so needy. Grow up. |
He breathed deeply in. It did nothing for him. His heart was still. |
Right. Something to fix. Like he had always known he would. |
Gale started to concentrate on his own body, his cells, the Karsus Weave. He started to replace himself, piece by piece, replacing dead, vampiric matter with new, human one. When he reached his back, he slowed. He should....he should replace it all. He should. Instead, he left it, quite like he had left Mystra’s earrin... |
His heart started beating again. He was alive. Human. No longer a spawn. |
Tara bumped her head against his knee. Gale smiled down at her. "We’re paying a visit, dear. And tomorrow we leave for greener pastures. The sword coast is vast. Lots of people who need a God with no occupation. We will do some good. Maybe build some refugee camps or schools. Orphanages." He did not actually have any k... |
Tara and him strolled through the city. He gave conjured coins to beggars and children. He bought a pastry at one of his favorite shops. Tara slew a pigeon and while he watched her, he thought of Astarion, his teeth, his need for Gale. He would be so lonely without Gale. He would – |
Gale pushed his fingernail deep into his arm, concentrated on the pain. He felt like an addict. Like he had, back when he had started his arcane studies. Contact with the weave, with Mystra had always left him wanting more. |
He had been hungry his whole life. |
He would be able to hunger again. To endure. As long as temptation wasn’t right in front of him, speaking all his filthiest and worst desires with a honeyed voice that made it seem reasonable instead of debauched or evil. |
Gale knocked at a door, down in the merchant’s district. A nice, cozy home with a blue door and flowers on the window tills. A woman opened. Her grey hair still had a bit of brown in it. Age had made her plump and short sighted. |
She blinked up at him and started to smile, when he said "Hello mother." |
Astarion smiled, when he returned to the room. Ravelle was laying on the ground, sleeping soundly. Whatever he had done, he must have had enraged the sweet little god. Gooood. It wasn’t ideal, of course, but memories could be altered, things replayed. He would still get what he wanted from the lordling and afterwards h... |
He wondered slightly what it was, that the man had done. He wouldn’t have touched Gale of course. Astarion had made it very clear who the wizard belonged to and Ravelle could not have been idiot enough to try. Which was good indeed, because then Astarion would not have been able to punish Gale. He also, maybe, would ha... |
Still. What HAD Ravelle done to make Gale lose his composure? Critique one of his favorite authors? |
Astarion whistled a jaunty tune to himself, wandering the palace and all the favorite little places where Gale would go to read or pretend to hide. |
He was nowhere to be found. |
Astarion frowned. He stopped one of the servants or three. The fourth one, he slammed against a wall, just to feel something break and cry. None of them had seen the wizard. |
How uncouth to scream for him. If he WANTED to be treated like a dog so much, he could have asked for it in a more flattering manner. Astarion wouldn’t have had any qualms to provide him with opportunity to eat from a bowl, lick his feet and present his belly. |
The palace was quiet. The vermin inside quivering, hiding. |
No. Fucking. Answer. |
Astarion formed his hands to fists and stretched his awareness, the connection to Gale. The wizard was no longer in the palace. |
He was not even in Baldur’s Gate. |
He was fucking gone. |
He did not wake Ravelle or force the information out of him. Instead, he let him be thrown into a room where he will keep for Gale to deal with, when he returns. Apparantly his puppy needed to get his nose stuck into the mess he made. |
Astarion forced himself into mediation, clinging to his connection to Gale. It took an eternity until he felt it opening up. Gale had gone to sleep. He had started dreaming. Astarion slipped inside the dream. It built up in soft colors. It was night in this dream, or dawn at least. They were in a mix of the tents they ... |
Gale himself was sitting on the floor, books all around him. He did not seem to read though. What a boring dream it was then. |
Astarion watched his wizard, his hands on his back, gripping tight onto his own wrists. He did not know, what he was feeling. Nervousness, maybe. A tight, gripping anger that was seeped through with fear. He was not supposed to be able to feel like that. He was the vampire ascendant. He did not have any kind of soul le... |
Alas, he also shouldn’t be able to love and what else was this thing inside his chest? |
Maybe that was, what made him feel this way. This ugly, toothing thing, this obsession and need. This craving. Were once he had hungered for blood or the sun or safety, he hungered for Gale now. His little treat. He craved him and it did not matter how much he gorged himself on the man, it was never enough. |
It would never be enough. |
He could have made a coat out of Gale’s skin, could filled himself with his flesh and blood and it still would not be enough. It would just make him hungrier. |
He had thought the wizard felt the same. Obsession. Craving. DEVOTION. |
How dare he just turn around and go? How dare he being able to do so? |
He would kill him for this. What other choice did he have, really? |
He didn’t think he would enjoy life without Gale but he would hate it more if he had to carve him out into a shell, a pretty doll. He was too old to play with dolls. |
He wanted his dark consort. |
How dare Gale take that away? How dare he - |
There had to be a noise he made. Maybe a growl. Or maybe he was breaking a finger. What did it matter in a dream, really? |
Gale turned around, looked up and his whole face lighted up, when he recognized Astarion. He was up in an instant and drew Astarion into a crushing hug. It was warm and - |
Astarion did not know what to do. So he stood still, did nothing. He stayed still, even when Gale let go of the hug, put his big hands on Astarion’s face. They were warm and Astarion could feel Gale’s heartbeat thumbing through them. Gale looked as him... It wasn’t like he usually did. The wizard looked at him with dev... |
The look on his face was soft. Purest adoration. |
Only Gale, his wonderfully intelligent wizard, could be stupid enough to look at Astarion like that. |
"I already miss you so." Gale sighed and leaned forward, kissed him, his face still hold in his hands. It was a way softer kiss than they normally shared. Gale normally did not initiate. He offered and hoped, anxiously, to be taken up on it. He asked. He never just...did. |
He shouldn’t really. |
That was not the role allocated to him. |
It did help Astarion to get his thoughts together though. To get the important facts straight. |
Gale loved him. Adored him. |
He had made himself human again. Or as human as god could be. He probably thought, that that would have cut off Astarion’s reign over him. The bond. The leash. The absolute power that Astarion had over Gale but had never wielded. Until now. |
Oh sweet, stupid boy. |
Astarion closed his eyes for one moment. |
"Then you shouldn’t have left, pet." He put one hand around Gale’s throat and pushed him away from his face. He watched understanding and confusion creep into Gale’s eyes. |
"Astarion? How -" |
"Shhh." Astarion stood up, brushed imaginary dirt from his clothes. He wasn’t stalling. He wanted to look presentable though. He looked Gale right in the eyes. And then he pushed. He honeyed his words with the bond. He put them around Gale in an unbreakable corset. He compelled. "When you wake up, you will open a porta... |
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