#baalspawned

(˙∀˙)🎮 Now I'm playing Baldur's Gate

"Are you....also seeing this horrid little man, or is that just me?" Elion had a sense that Sinder could also perceive the butler that the rest of their companions couldn't see.

Sinder had been out for a walk, unable to sleep due to the events of the previous night. Both he and Elion had tried to piece it all together, the others casting suspicions and accusations on them both. It had been too much, and even after an exhausting day of exploration and dead ends, he couldn't sleep.

Apparently, the cleric couldn't either. But when Sinder had walked up to join him in the solitude of insomnia, he was taken aback by the creature he saw there with him. "Yes, I can see... it. What is it?"

"Ah! Milord, you are here! How fortuitous!" The vile, skeletal creature jumped up and down excitedly as Sinder came to stand beside the cleric, crossing his arms as he looked down at the... thing.

"Milord? What do you mean, who are you?" Sinder asked, wondering why the creature had addressed him in such a manner.

"Darling, I've found us a little friend," Elion looked delighted, holding the little furry lump close to his chest. "He's beautiful." The tiny baby tressym had one Milky eye, a bit of his ear missing, and only half a tail. His wing feathers were patchy, but Elion figure that could be mended easily with a good diet. "Please, don't ask what happened to his former 'friend'," Elion growled. "What matters is that he's going to be treated far better from now on."

Astarion was a little shocked when he saw the tiny, ragged kitten cuddled into the cleric's chest. It always stunned him, how someone literally created from the flesh of the God of Murder could be such a compassionate person. He'd just ignore the fact that Elion eluded to himself killing another creature to protect this one, but that was Elion... and Astarion adored him for it.

"My hands are trembling..." Astarion said, voice unsteady as the daggers dropped from his hands and clattered to the floor. He knelt, bloodied and frenzied, beside the corpse of his former Master, also very bloodied and very still.

He did it. He actually managed to do it. With Elion and the others fighting at his side, having his back, he'd managed to stop the ritual and take down Cazador. It was more than just his hands shaking, his whole body was trembling.

"I did it." He said his thought out loud, tasting the words on his tongue like a bittersweet cognac. He let out a sudden laugh, and then another, and another until it turned into a string of laughter that echoed loudly in the otherwise silent room. It was as if no one dared to move.

The laugh continued a moment longer before turning into more of a sob. An aching, choking, gasping sob that repeated over and over and wracked his whole body as Astarion collapsed back on his heels. His arms wrapped around his stomach as he felt a wave of relief and panic at the same time.

He did it...

Astarion is absolutely speechless, taking the bag from Elion and opening it to remove the contents and inspect them. Eventually, he's able to find his words.

Lae'zel was a little shocked by the request as she sat with legs criss crossed under her. She had been meditating, but the interruption didn't upset her. She'd sensed something was off about the cleric, ever since that... incident in the camp. His scent had changed, his confidence was lost. Were he a Githyanki, she'd slit his throat for incompetence without hesitation for giving in to weakness.

But he was not, and she was not among her people. Compassion was not a concept she understood well, but if she had to travel with these... companions of hers, she'd learn their ways even if it drove her mad.

"Has anything ever been fair to either of us in our entire miserable lives?" Elion raised a brow incredulously. "Have you considered, my love, that perhaps you're lying to yourself about lying to yourself? Neither of us have been in this situation before. And my first instinct is to run away as well, believe me. But I have also never been more convicted of anything in all my horrid days as I have about wanting you in them. Dare I say, I'd actually be rather devastated should you decide to leave. And whoever would I do such delicious things to if not you?" Of course he couldn't keep on topic for such a serious conversation. And he hated himself for it, just a smidge. But deflection was hardwired into them both, just as their instinct to fly from any sort of closeness. But perhaps self preservation, when no longer needed, became self sabotage. Elion let out a heavy sigh. "Please, darling. Don't spout such drivel anymore. I can't take it. Not when there's so much at stake. Not when I...well, when I've finally something to live for besides...whatever it was that motivated me before I met you."

Astarion's instincts all screamed at him to flee. To run. To deflect, destroy, gaslight, anything to keep Elion from saying those things to him, from feeling those things about him. What possible good would it do him, to lose what he was for someone else?

But would he really be losing anything? Wouldn't he be losing more if he didn't give in to this frightening feeling in his bones?