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It was just as horrible as I expected. In fact, I think it was worse. Wall to wall the tunnels were smothered in webbing, the slightest breeze making it shudder and shift, while scuttling and all other manner of noises associated with 'nope' echoed along the rocky corridors. But on we went. Deeper we strolled. And admittedly, we did find some good gear as well, which would only help us as our journey continued. Damn. That meant the next time we came across a creepy-as-all-hells cave, I would have even less ground to stand on when saying 'nope'.

But it wasn't all strolling and gathering loot. Beasties wandered the corridors with us, and while we thankfully managed to take them down, the fact that some of those beasties were bright blue Spiders the size of a horse that could bloody TELEPORT was ridiculous. My fear crackled along my nerves and brought that darkness with it. Kill. Kill all of them. It raged inside my skull and made my hands shake as the fights continued. They bled blueish gore instead of red but it was still satisfying to that weird hunger in my belly. Damn it. The feeling was awful, it was wrong in every way, and yet I felt compelled to fulfil its wants.

Kill.

Paint them with their own death.

Do it!

As another fell to my blade, I staggered back and found a relatively web-free wall to go and stand beside. Breathe. Just breathe. It's dead, you killed it, it was twitching but it's dead. Keep that strange madness down. Don't let it overtake you. It isn't you. I have no idea what it is instead, but it's not you. My nerves eased a little, and the hunger sunk back into the pit of my gut for now. Sated. Maybe. Still, I could think, and then of course I was shuddering for a whole other reason – these big-ass bugs were downright fucking disgusting. Ew. All of the damned ew in the whole world. Ugh. I'm itchy.

Steps approached, and I glanced to find Astarion approaching with a water skin. I expected a smirk, or outright grinning as I tried to claw back my composure, but instead there was just a soft understanding. Damn it, pick a side of the coin, Pretty Boy. Be a dick or don't. I never knew what to expect from him, and it was unnerving. And exhausting. I took the water skin with a nod and sipped, my breathing evening out a little more.

He took it back when I held it out, he almost looked guilty as he cleared his throat. "Lae'zel is scouting ahead a bit, we have a few moments to uh… Catch our breath."

I nodded, lips tight. "Good, good."

"Really not keen on bugs, hm?"

"Are you?" I snorted, recalling how he'd fired plenty of arrows and slashed with his daggers.

He shrugged. "Not particularly, not my ideal dinner guest or anything. But they're also just another creature. What is it about them that unnerves you so much?"

"I… I can't read them." I sighed, looking down for a moment, moving my foot a little further away from another patch of damned webbing. "And they make you so slow and helpless with all this shit around the place."

"Ah. Yes, their means of killing is rather brutal." He looked around and wrinkled his nose. "Cruel even, I suppose. Depends upon their intent, I guess."

"Which we can't determine." I laughed weakly and managed to step away from the wall. "Silly really, isn't it? We've fought Illithids, have parasites in our heads and have fought Ogres, Zombies and even a Boulet. But a spider has me all fidgety."

"No, a cavern filled with giant spiders has you fidgety." He corrected, the smirk falling into place but not feeling all that pointed, more like he was laughing with me now. "While it is amusing to see you so scattered, dear, it is not that I don't sympathise. Fear creeps up on us all in one way or another."

Well that was kind.

I looked him over. "Yeah… Guess it does. Why're you being nice?"

"I'm not incapable of it." He rolled his eyes.

"Mm, evidently. Alright, thank you."

He nodded. "You're welcome."

"So uh… What gets you fidgety?"

"Poor personal hygiene."

I snorted and he grinned for a moment. "Oh c'mon, you have one of my spooked moments. Give me something to even the scales."

I expected outright refusal, of course, to have an aloof scoff and for him to leave. But he paused. He looked to the side and his jaw went tight, he was thinking.

He drew a deep breath. "Decay."

"Decay?" I repeated and he nodded, swallowing hard. "What like… So the Zombies were pretty rough for you?"

He let the breath go in a sudden huff and shifted his weight. "Not pleasant, no. But it's more uhm, well to put it one way, it's that slow creeping sensation of it. Knowing something is rotting from the inside, and you can't see it."

"Oh. Like when you think a potato is fine to eat, but then you touch it and–"

"Ew, yes." He shuddered and shook his head. "Though it's more than a fear of old vegetables."

I nodded and looked him over, the pristine nature of his clothes (wherever possible), the careful maintenance of his appearance and hair. And if my suspicions of his 'condition' were correct… He had potentially been alive for a very long time, and technically not actually alive. But undead.

My heart ached a little for him. He could have said anything, like the dark spooked him or anything. But this felt real. And it could so easily waver into another discussion he was clearly avoiding. It was almost as if Astarion was trying to reach out. In his odd, slightly awkward and aloof manner.

"That's a tricky one." I said, nodding, meeting his gaze without a waver. He had looked with a moment of accusation, like he thought I was mocking him or something. But then he seemed to see my sincerity and the more doe-eyed look took to his face for the flicker of a moment. I'd only seen it a couple times before now – when he was scolded for not being careful with the cooking or something like that. A softer look of vulnerability. I smiled softly. "Is it a fear you have for yourself?"

He leaned away. "What do you mean?"

"Like, if you were ill or something, or if some kind of poison were able to do that to you." I gave him an out, if he wanted to confess his true nature (unless I was totally wrong on it), that was his to choose. But I still wanted to understand him a little more. "Sorry, if that's too personal then–"

"No I…" He looked down for a moment and a he smirked again, clicking his tongue. "No, you're rather close to the root of it there I think. Quite astute of you."

"I'm not just a stabby gal." I winked and he grinned again for that fleeting moment. Pretty Boy indeed – but those genuine smiles, as quick and well hidden they were most of the time, were definitely when he was his most handsome. No mask. No performance. Just Astarion enjoying a moment. Maybe one day, further down this road of ours, I'd manage to help him see that. Maybe. Or it was all part of the ploy. Who knows.

We continued into the dark after that. Beasties, Spiders, all manner of 'dear god what now' came spilling out of the walls at us, and we kept fighting. I was not convinced anything could make this worthwhile, but it was still good to see us grow as a group. Astarion stayed to the shadows, but it only made his strikes truer, his hits harder. Some beasties were taken down in one shot by his arrows, their eyes rolling back into oblivion as his arrows pierced their brains or stopped their hearts. Lae'zel was seemingly tireless when it came to battle. Karlach was just having a hell of a lot of fun I think. Shadowheart kept us healthy, her kindness always a little jarring against her pouting nature. And Gale… Well I still couldn't read him all that well yet. But he was invested in keeping us safe, as well as himself. So that was enough for now.

And then, as the biggest bastard Spider I had ever seen, finally fell to the ground dead, the rest of the cavern seemed to go completely quiet. Like the air had been sucked out. If it had been a Queen we had killed, no doubt her subjects were now scuttling into the farthest reaches of the cavern, intent on simply staying alive now that she was dead. So now, it was time to loot.

A few small alcoves nearby seemed to be a more permanent residence down here – though the idea of anyone living in the dark of this place with those things nearby was stomach churning in itself. But still, there was good supplies to be taken and even some more information on the nearby area. We had to be careful of a Hag it seemed. No name, no description, but the 'meadow' which was clearly underlined and put in inverted commas, was not to be trusted. Odd. But good to know. Hags weren't something that felt familiar to me, in any way beyond that vague notion of being told of them as a child or something. A legend. A scary story to keep kids behaving. But really, in our world, who was to say that anything at all counted as impossible or 'made up'.

And then I found a small room with a stool in the corner, made from patched together bits of iron that had started to rust. As I pushed the gate to step inside, the smell of damp, and old rusted metal hit me in a wave. My mind whirled. Rust. Damp. Cold Stone. It all washed over me, and for that moment of dizziness, it might as well have been drowning me. Not in clear-cut memories or anything, but in a deep sense of familiarity and dread. I hadn't been in that place before, not specifically, but somewhere like it. A small room, a cell of sorts? Punished. Yes. I had done something wrong, or failed some kind of test, and all I had with me was a too small tunic that was torn and bloodied already from my training, and I was sat shivering on a rusty stool. Training? What? I held onto the wall to try and steady myself, but feeling that flinty rock under my hand only made the waves higher.

"Amne?" Astarion's voice peeled closer, and I tried to respond, tried to choke the feeling down and compose myself.

But I couldn't. All I managed was a weak cry and choked noise, my breaths still thin and my mind tumbling through those vague notions. Lonely. Small. Helpless. Tears streaking down my face, bruises healing across my body, screams having echoed in my ears – venomous words of hate, punishment and mockery. And as steps approached, I flinched back and curled closer to the wall. No, please, I'll learn, I'll cut like you, I won't be afraid anymore. I'll–

"Amne?" Astarion spoke again, an edge of concern to his voice, hands on my shoulders holding firm but not bruisingly so.

I gasped and blinked, coming back to the real room I was stood in, looking up into his red eyes as they searched me for reason.

My legs quivered but I managed to stand properly, and I shrugged him off. "Sorry! I'm fine. I just… My head uh…"

His hands lowered slowly and his eyes wavered across the sad looking cell. "Did you find something?"

"Sort of…" I took deep breaths, stepping out of the cell but still around the corner from the rest of the group. They knew of my memory issues of course, but I didn't want them thinking of me as unreliable. Astarion had already seen, so there was little point hiding from him by that point. He continued to watch, but his expression held no impatience. It seemed like he was just giving me space, but staying nearby too. To protect me? Maybe. Awfully kind of him. I breathed out. "It was a memory I think. Or… Or pieces of one."

His eyes darted back to the cell and then to me. "You've been here before?"

"No, but somewhere pretty similar. And it didn't exactly feel like it had been by my own will."

His expression hardened. "So you were kept prisoner?"

"Maybe." I put my hand to my head. It had felt like I was smaller, younger maybe, more helpless to defend myself. The tears falling down my face had been frightened ones, the shivering in my bones very clear as I lingered on the sensation, the choked sobs burning at the base of my throat as I recalled those moments of utter terror. And it had been dark. Very dark. I could only smell the damp, feel the harsh rock, scramble around and find rusted bars that bit into my hands. "Think I was a kid being punished for something… But it was dark and it was definitely some kind of cell. And someone was laughing."

For a moment he was quiet, I could feel him watching me but I kept my eyes low. Did he think me pathetic now? So knocked sideways by a simple memory?

He sighed. "Well no wonder you looked spooked when I approached."

Oh. That sounded like understanding, veiled under his usual sass, at least. "Mm, yeah it had nothing to do with you, sorry if you thought so."

"No, no, I assumed something creepy and crawly had bothered you. But I appreciate the clarification all the same. How're you uh… Well, how are you faring now?"

I blinked at him and found only genuine concern shining back at me. Wow. He really was being kind. Clearly I had to give him more credit. I smiled softly and nodded, my hand resting over my calming heart. "Better. Thanks. I think talking it through made it more tangible, less…"

"Monster under the bed?" He offered with a smirk pulling into place. "Very well, glad to be of service in airing out such things. Better not to let them fester and grow stronger in the dark."

That sounded like it came from experience.

I dipped my head. "Thanks."

"Of course." He then looked back towards the group. "With that settled, I was just coming over to let you know that Gale has used too much magic and requires us to camp here. He thinks making somewhere safe here will be a better idea than trying to escape here with him unable to do much more than slap any beasties that come our way."

I shook my head. "Magic users."

"Quite." Astarion chuckled, but then a tightness took to his jaw. "I'm not exactly keen on lingering down here, much like yourself I'm sure, but I do think he has a point. We'd be fine with a couple of the wretched things happening upon us, but if another swarm were to be found.."

"Could be tricky." I nodded and hugged myself. "As long as we can find a spot mostly surrounded by rock, I think I'll be able to sleep. A little."

"We'll take turns keeping watch." Astarion then stepped back and gestured towards the group. "Ready to get back to them?"

"Yes. Thanks again."

"You're most welcome." He made a little bow, but kept his eyes firmly on me, that lingering look so strangely familiar despite only knowing the man a few days. I guess some people you just click with. And as much as it seemed like he had no intention of clicking with anyone, I think his kindness showed a certain affection for me at least. Comrades. Allies. Perhaps even creeping towards friends. That felt good. In my current soup of utter loneliness, knowing that I was able to forge new connections helped. No. It was wonderful…

Thanks for reading!