Chapter Text
Come morning, Sorcha heaved a sigh as Lae'zel walked up to her. This was going to be difficult.
"Girtar'rac neh toruun - 'One theft consumes all'. Protocol four-hundred-two. Your greed reduced Crèche Y'llek to rubble," Lae'zel accused, raising her eyes to the heavens. "Vlaakith, absolve my sin or skewer my heart. In each, you might make me worthy!"
"But the crèche turned against us," Sorcha protested. "Why should I care about them?"
"I care," said Lae'zel bitterly. "Just because the zaith'isk failed, because Vlaakith has marked us, makes this no less of a tragedy. I do not expect you to mourn. But I will not tolerate your rejoicing, either."
"I'm sorry, Lae'zel. I had no way of knowing that would happen."
"Shka'keth. Next time, think twice before getting grabby with powerful relics in mysterious places." The gith headed back to her tent and set to vigorous weapons practice.
Sorcha watched, relieved that the sword was not aimed at her throat as Astarion sidled up to her. "Having second thoughts?” he asked. “Don't. Now Shadowheart has a lovely new mace and we don't have a horde of githyanki at our backs. Everyone's a winner - well, except maybe Lae'zel."
Leaving the rubble of the crèche behind, the party set off once again that morning, heading for the only road as yet untravelled. Sorcha walked ahead, followed closely by Gale and Astarion, while Wyll and Karlach dallied behind, pointing at scenery.
"That orb seems powerful, Gale. If it was removed, what could it do?" Astarion wondered out loud.
"Nothing good!" the wizard replied.
Sorcha slowed to walk beside him and asked, quietly, "I was wondering where you got that orb? And how long ago?"
"Almost two years ago now, two years since my life came crashing down around my ears like the fabled city of Netheril," Gale replied ruefully.
"That's terrible. And where did you find it?"
"Oh, I tracked it down north of Waterdeep, in a place just outside of Yartar. You seem awfully interested, any reason?"
"Ah, no, just fascinated is all," she said.
She continued walking, lost in thought. It couldn't be, could it? Surely not that bloody devastation orb again?
Sorcha caught up with Gale again. "Did you buy that orb from the Hand of Yartar? Surely it's caused enough damage already?"
"What? No!” he replied, shocked. “I'd never associate with criminals… er… that is to say… back then, I would never have considered buying magical items from those sorts of people."
"Oh, and what sort of people do you mean, Gale?" she said, smooth as poison.
"Suffice it to say,” he stammered. “That I led quite a sheltered life and that my eyes have recently been opened to enjoying the company of a diverse array of companions."
"Hmmm." She let him be -after all it's not like she wasn't used to being looked down on. He was just the sort of rich boy she would have robbed blind back in Yartar.
The trail dropped downwards, over a series of wooden bridges, leading inexorably to the shadowlands. Dead birds and small mammals were scattered beside the path, victims from a hurried exodus, thinking they had broken free only to succumb at the final moment.
Just before the final bridge she noticed an elderly man standing by an extinguished campfire. She could swear that he hadn’t been there a moment ago. Wizard, if the hat is any indication, but that could be a ruse, he could just be selling useless charms against the shadows. The man stepped up to her.
"Ho there, wanderer. Stay thy course a moment to indulge an old man."
"Why, what are you selling?" she asked with suspicion.
"Nothing at all, I merely enquire if you have in amongst your ranks…"
The rest of the party had reached him, and he scanned their faces, as if looking for someone.
"Elminster?" Gale asked, looking stunned.
"Ah, Gale, m'boy," the wizard replied. "It's about time. Can we go to your camp so I may rest my weary feet and perhaps partake of some suitable sustenance?"
"Aw, is that Gale's grandad?' Karlach whispered, not quietly enough, as she received sharp glares from both wizards.
They set up camp, no one really wanting to rush ahead towards the curse and everyone curious. Elminster helped himself to copious amounts of their cheese supplies and talked endlessly about nothing. I can see where Gale gets it from. Eventually even Gale tired of the verbal knots the elder wizard was tying. "Out with it, Elminster! What brings you here?"
"I come on behalf of Mystra."
Sorcha laughed. "An actual divine messenger, no less?"
Elminster looked sad, momentarily. "Gale, you know where you went wrong. But Mystra intends that you be given a chance at redemption."
Gale appeared shocked. "Mystra would consider… forgiveness?"
"She would consider what she considers to be forgiveness. She is aware of the misadventures that have recently befallen you, of your quest against the Absolute." Elminster's voice was grave as he continued. "The Absolute is more dangerous that you can possibly conceive. That is why Mystra charges you with its destruction. She believes that only you can."
Gale looked thoughtful. "The orb."
"Hogwash. Idle beliefs and false hopes," Sorcha interrupted sharply. "If this Absolute is so terrible, why isn't Mystra destroying it? No, she's leaving it to a ragtag group of adventurers while she flits about in the ether."
Elminster ignored her and continued. "Precisely, Gale. Mystra has granted me the power to stop the orb's rush to overpower you. Instead you will be able to unleash that detonation at will. You are to find the heart of the Absolute and use yourself to wipe it from the face of Faerûn."
"That's monstrous! You're tasking Gale to kill himself!" Sorcha pointed out.
"No, Mystra is. I think she trusts me to do this," Gale said.
Elminster spoke the charm and an ethereal light flared briefly around Gale.
"Farewell, my boy. I am sorry that this task had to fall to you." The wizard's outline faded and he was gone.
Sorcha turned towards Gale. "You're not killing yourself! We'll find another way."
"I'm sure if there was another way then an actual divine being and the greatest wizard who ever lived would have thought of it," he said. "Maybe this is just my destiny."
"Look, I'm not just going to let you blow yourself up, that's a ridiculous demand. I thought I had trouble with my ex but at least she didn't try to make me kill myself!"
Gale still looked resolute, a rueful look on his face. "It's a lot to take in, but solemn consideration will help."
"I'll leave you to your thoughts," she said, awkwardly patting his shoulder.
Everyone had agreed that having one more rest before venturing into the curse was a good choice. Gone was the sunny chatter of earlier in the day. Between the shocking news about Gale's divine task and the looming shadow curse that they could actually now see on the horizon, it was clear that everyone was filled with trepidation.
Halsin had walked over to where Astarion was sitting beside her.
"I'm sorry to intrude, Astarion, but I thought it was wise to let you know what I remember of the shadow cursed lands. Shadow creatures are unlikely to make good eating, so you might need to stock up tonight."
"Noted, thank you," Astarion said. "But I'll try not to bite any bears this evening."
He winked audaciously at the druid, earning him a rumbling chuckle.
"I understand that you have an arrangement with Sorcha, to keep you fed, but the shadows might put quite the strain on her health if she's your only source of nourishment. So given that the health of the party is somewhat my business, and forgive me if the offer is unwelcome, but if you find yourself needing an additional source of blood, I do have quite a lot."
Astarion looked quite shocked at the unexpected suggestion.
"I, er, thank you," he said.
Sorcha had to admit that Halsin was quite something, a very different kind of attractive to the slender perfection of the vampire, but enticing nonetheless. His open generosity made her warm to him. It might be fun to explore that further, if Astarion was ever secure enough.
Everyone sought out their comforts. Wyll sat quietly talking to Gale, a hand on his shoulder. Karlach, Lae'zel and Shadowheart were sharing a few bottles and talking about past conquests, which occasionally erupted into raucous laughter. Halsin had reverted to bear form and was playing some boisterous game with Scratch and the owlbear cub. She called up Nimbus and he joined in eagerly.
Sorcha sat alone, longing for comfort, for something to distract her mind from the horrors yet to come, but found herself missing the vampire. He had basked in the sun, drinking it in until the last rays dipped below the horizon, before going out hunting.
She waited, hoping for his return, until everyone but the druid had gone to sleep. He must be having trouble hunting tonight. Halsin had volunteered to do the first half of this final watch before true camp safety was eradicated, and he was peaceful company.
"You're worried," the druid said, whittling one of his ducks. "It's a brave thing you're doing, facing the problem head on and going to the Shadowlands."
"What should I expect? You were there when it began, weren't you?" she asked.
Halsin sighed heavily. "My first day as Archdruid, after so many fell. We thought we had won, but then a wave of darkness spread across the land and our armies started just dropping to the ground, only to rise again as creatures of shadow and spite, forever lost to us." A tear formed in his eye and she reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze of comfort. "Only those who ran survived. Since then I've spent a century looking for a way to undo it."
"Now that's bravery, finding the will to continue on after such devastation," Sorcha said. "I'm not sure that I would be strong enough to do that, you should be proud of your achievements." So much strength in him, yet so much grief underneath. I'd like to be able to make him smile.
They sat in silence for a while longer, the only sounds the pop and crackle of the fire and the scrape of Halsin's knife as he carefully shaped the wood, but eventually she sought her own bed.
Sorcha had finally given in to Astarion's suggestion that she have a tent of her own, rather than sleeping in front of the fire, and had been hoping that Astarion would take advantage of the privacy it offered tonight. Her worry over setting sparks in her sleep had faded as she recovered her stronger magic. Once she had decided that a tent was needed, it had simply appeared in the camp. She suspected Withers had just conjured it up once it was needed. It was a simple affair, green with a small silver trim on the edges, but there was a certain cosiness to setting up her bedroll within its bounds. A small lantern hung from the crossbeam, casting a warm flickering light across the floor.
The sound of a throat clearing, and a quiet "May I come in? " notified her of Astarion's presence. "Halsin said you were waiting up for me.?”
“I thought you didn't have to ask to cross a threshold now?" she said.
"I don't," he confirmed, "It's just polite. You could have been doing anything, with anybody! I know how utterly depraved you are, after all!"
She giggled. "Well, I wasn't, as you can see."
"That's rather disappointing, darling.”
"Have you managed to feed?” she asked. “I was worried that you took so long. Were you having problems or just gorging on every squirrel that crossed your path?"
"No, nothing like that, but it's sweet of you to worry. Larger animals seemed quite scarce, can't really blame them for not wanting to go near the curse, so I had to walk for a couple of hours before I found anything worth eating. A badger and an incautious fox was the best of it, and the fox tasted rank." His mouth crinkled in disgust.
"What Halsin said, earlier…" She trailed off for a moment. "I'm happy to be your main food source for a while, but if I'm injured or incapacitated, would you be satisfied with drinking from the druid?" She scanned his face, looking for telltale signs of concern.
"Well, the druid would be quite the snack, and he did offer. It would be churlish not to take him up on that." Astarion licked his lips lasciviously. She couldn't tell if it was at her or at the thought of Halsin's blood.
"Now, on to your lack of depravity - let me fix that for you."
With a growl that burrows straight between her legs, he pushes her back onto her bedroll, grabbing both her hands with just one of his, holding them above her head as he lifts her shirt upwards and undoes her leggings. Untying her breastband, he runs a chill hand over the curve of her breast, causing her to shiver, before squeezing her stiffening nipple between his fingers. The other gets the same treatment, puckering up under his determined touch. Sorcha feels his tongue flicking against her now hardened nipple, and little bites across her breast, not breaking the skin - but the promise is there. She wriggles and pushes her hips towards him.
Astarion raises himself up on his elbows, staring into her eyes. "Keep your hands there for me, pet." A shiver scampers across her mind. Gods, how does he turn me on this much just by looking at me?
He drags her leggings down, stopping at her ankles, effectively tying her feet together, before delicately undoing the ties of her smallclothes. It's almost like he planned for them to be easy to remove. Astarion then begins to remove his belt and for a moment Sorcha is unsure where this is going, worrying about a memory she'd rather remained buried. She parts her lips, about to say 'velvet' but he reaches for her hands, securing them with the belt and she lets out a breath in relief that her first thought had been wrong.
That wicked grin was back. "Now I've got you all secure, and I can do whatever I like, yes?"
Much as she found pleasure in being submissive, at least in bed, she really had to fight back sometimes.
"I'm sure you'd like to think so, elf boy," she retorts, sticking out her tongue.
"Ah, insolent today? We'll see about that." He flips her over, pulling her to all fours, hands and feet still constricted, and slaps one cheek, hard. Her yelp is unavoidable, but the burn spreads across her skin with a teasing warmth.
Astarion leans closer. "Shall I kiss it better?" he purrs and her inner walls contract at the darkness in his tone. "You do look ever so pretty with that flush across your cheek, just like a blushing maiden. I think I'd like to see that a lot more often."
She couldn't help the little whimper that escapes her lips, and of course his sensitive ears caught the sound.
"Oh, you like that thought, do you?" he purred.
She feels another resounding slap on the other cheek before he reaches between her closed legs, stroking his fingers through the burgeoning wetness. "It's very loud though, everyone's going to hear if you're not careful."
Sorcha whimpers again, momentary shame washing over her and just increasing her desire.
"This little tent is handy but everyone's close by - it does mean you'll have to stay silent.”
He leant in closer to whisper in her ear“unless you want them all to hear you screaming my name when I fuck you?"
Gods, the certainty of this man was insufferable. What was worse was that he was right.
Astarion pushes her head down further, raising her hips in the air and begins working his long, clever fingers into her, rhythmically pressing the most sensitive patch inside. Her entire sense of self narrows to just her cunt and his hand, stretching her wide, fingers curling into her core, his thumb gliding over her clit. Sorcha begins to gasp, dragging breaths in, the muscles in belly and thighs tightening in concert as she reaches for her climax.
A sudden empty feeling. He'd stopped.
His voice snaked towards her, low with desire. "You look absolutely delicious like this, pet. Panting, flushed, arse in the air and positively dripping for me."
Sorcha feels him drag his tongue wetly across her cunt, just the once, and almost blacks out from the pleasure. She hears the sound of clothing being removed and groans, hating the delay.
"Are you being impatient again?” he growled. “I'm just going to sit here and look at you until you wait patiently like a good girl."
Sorcha bites her lip, mind alive with thoughts of what the scene behind her looked like. A filthy chuckle reaches her ears and her tadpole squirms, showing her a vision of herself through his eyes, letting her feel the twin desires in him, the need to fuck her and the need to bite. She gasps and the vision fades, leaving her wracked with want, both his and hers.
She can't help but beg for him to take her, a tiny voice whispering out her need. He weaves fingers in her hair and tugs, raising her head up.
"You want something?" he asked smugly.
"Please, Astarion, please…" Her voice broke, unable to find the words as she sobs with longing.
"So, my little firebrand, do you remember what you said earlier, hmm? I'm sure you'd like to think so, elf boy?" He arches a perfectly groomed eyebrow as he smirks at her.
She whimpers, realising what he needs. Capitulation. "Please Astarion, you can do anything you want."
"That's better, my sweet."
Astarion grabs her hips, dragging her closer, pulling her leggings from her ankles. He slides smoothly inside her, immediately soaked, and then nudges her thighs further open with his legs as he pulls her back. Holding her spread on his lap,one hand reaches up to squeeze her breast tightly and the other dances over her clit. She grinds deeply onto him, taking every inch, revelling in the fullness. Her vision splinters, refuses to focus as every nerve seems to sing out.
The pain as he bites into her neck is transmuted into a glorious, golden knife edge that drives her to oblivion.
For something that drained her life force to make her feel this alive seemed an unlooked for blessing. For a while she heard only the gentle beating of her heart as she rested in the afterglow, then Astarion stirred.
"Footsteps. Unfamiliar ones," he warned.
They hastily donned their clothing, grabbing weapons, and headed outside. Two gith were making their way towards Lae'zel, who was stood in only her underharness, blade in hand.
"Kith'rak Voss," she spat. "Has Vlaakith sent you to slay me with your own hand?"
"I've not come to kill you, Lae'zel. I've come to aid you," Voss said.
Sorcha heard the voice of the dream visitor. "Don't trust him."
Get out of my head!
Voss knelt before Lae'zell, placing his sword onto the ground. "Ska"kek kir Gith shabell'eth. My blade rests. Mother Gith compels you to listen."
Sorcha stood protectively in front of Lae'zel. "Your cronies tried to kill us. Why should Lae'zel listen to you?"
"I knew you would fight - and I knew you would win. I needed to ensure Vlaakith's trust. This was the only way. The Astral Prism, that's the key. Within it lies the seed of Vlaakith's demise."
Lae'zel raised her sword once more. "Vlaakith's demise? Shka'keth. I should run you through for suggesting it."
"Voss, are you talking about the person inside? Do you know who that is?" Sorcha asked, trying to diffuse the tense situation.
The Kith'rak shook his head. "I won't be the one to betray them. But as the one inside has obviously chosen you as an ally, I must follow their lead."
"What do you want to do, Lae'zel? I've got your back either way," Sorcha asked.
Voss stood once more. "The Prism's tenant must be let loose. I've sought their freedom for aeons, and now, you've been granted the opportunity I've so long awaited. All that remains is the key that unchains them - and I've found someone who I believe can provide it. Bring the Prism to Baldur's Gate, I'll be waiting."
He bowed to her formally. "Lae'zel - together we will break our chains, and be Vlaakith's slaves no longer."
"I am no slave, Jhe'stil Kith'rak. The Undying Queen is my freedom. It is she who will purify me, and she who will ascend me." Lae'zel's voice wavered as she repeated the tenet.
"Lies, Lae'zel - every last one. There is no purification, no ascension. Your mind will be ripped apart, your memories turned to silver thread and your body destroyed."
"That sounds exactly like what that zaith'isk was doing to you," Sorcha pointed out.
Lae'zel looked uncomfortable, almost uncertain, but declared "Your words ring true. So be it, ra'stil, I am with you."
As the Kith'rak left, Lae'zel moved to return to her tent.
"Do you need to talk, Lae'zel?" asked Sorcha.
"No, ra'stil, I need time to think on this, to decide what it means for me. Then I will talk."
Sorcha knew the sting of betrayal, but to find that one you thought was a goddess had lied to her entire people, that was going to take time to digest. She hoped Lae’zel could find the strength to get through it.