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ASTARION POV

Stepping back into the sunshine after so long in the cavern's darkness was blissful. Not only for the ongoing novelty, but the sheer space to breathe. For plenty of obvious reasons, the trip back to the surface had been a little tense for the group – the others had come to terms with what he was, but no doubt it would take some time for him to rebuild trust. Amaya was doing well. She had colour back in her cheeks and her stride was getting stronger all the while.

When he had realised what he had done, Astarion had never felt colder. First that prick of pain. Of course that had his hackles up and his anger rising, that she had attacked him when allowing him to drink. But then clarity struck as her sword hit the stone. Pale. She was so very pale. Deep shadows under her eyes, her dulled eyes as they looked at him glassily. Her pale lips trying to smirk as she muttered those words and her eyes rolled back into oblivion. And then, with the coldness, came fear. Not of what the others would think, he hadn't had the space in his mind for that much foresight. No. It had been fear of the fact those eyes might never open again, and worst of all, because of his own weakness. He should have been more careful. Having never drunk from anything but animals before, he should have been more cautious.

The sheer pull of the blood had been undeniable. More. It had raged inside his skull, screamed in every inch of his body, dragging more from her so desperately. And looking back on it as they continued along the road, Astarion's nose wrinkled. He had been such an animal about it. After she had trusted him. And then she lay there so still, so cold, so pale. His world became only that diminished image of her and the frantic bellowing for aid. After that, as the others demanded answers, made accusations, snarled their justified anger, he just stared at where she had been lying. A small puddle of her blood had gathered below where she'd been lying. It reflected the firelight, golden rubies rippling as the others paced and yelled.

And he had nothing to say.

No defence.

No justification.

Nothing but a sorry look on his face and the desperate hope she would wake up.

And then, the impossible – not only did she wake, but she did so and immediately defended him. She fought for him. Amaya. He closed his eyes and looked towards the sun as the group paused at a fork in the road. She had always seemed special, since those first nights in the tavern, since he got the chance to know her, but now he was seeing even more of it. Her bravery. Her kindness. Not only had she agreed to help with his plight, she then defended him when he failed to maintain composure. He could have killed her. He could have fulfilled Cazador's intention by simple accident. Astarion shivered. Too close.

A bird flew overhead, and then it came again, and swooped lower. It had a note attached to its leg, and Gale carefully removed it. It seemed the people of the grove wished to throw a bit of a party before they travelled onwards towards Baldur's Gate. A party. It sounded so strange to be considering something so frivolous, but Halsin would finally be able to meet up with them and they could really plan their trajectory towards Moonrise after that.

Lae'zel gritted her teeth. "I am well aware of how much it will avail us to have extra allies, but may I suggest a different course of action? At least, initially?"

Amne lowered the note and nodded. "Of course, what is it?"

"The Creche. It is only over the next ridge, I am sure of it, we have seen all the signs. If we can make contact with my people and perhaps even be rid of these creatures in our heads, then we could celebrate both liberating the grove and ourselves."

Astarion's gaze flitted to the path they thought would head towards the creche. He had no want to have the worms inside their heads any longer than necessary. But he also didn't trust the Gith. It seemed far more likely that they would simply kill the group for being infected, rather than try to help them be cured. But then again, he knew little of their culture. Perhaps there was that chance. Or enough of it that Lae'zel was willing to try. Or her own desperation of being cured was clouding her judgement. Still, no way to really know that without trying.

Amne had gotten nods from everyone else, and then looked to him. Astarion was slightly surprised to still so blatantly get a vote after the previous evenings happenings, but he nodded all the same. They were agreed. A note was sent back to the Halsin and the grove's people to await another day for their word, as they had another task to complete first.

And so they continued on the mountain path.

The woodland areas came and went, the ground dappled by the canopy's shadows the group discussed the task ahead. They would not sneak about, there was no real need with Lae'zel with them. No, they would be open and truthful of it all. Or at least, most of it. As they walked, Astarion watched Amne as she laughed with Karlach. Such sweet notes lilted into the air, her smile broad, her eyes bright. She had recovered well. He had hoped they might still be able to have a connection in this new confusing life of theirs, and they had. She cared about him enough to defend his life, and of course he cared deeply for her too. Was he allowed to want more of that intimacy with her? The kind they had shared in the city.

Could he hope for more to discover as well?

Like what it might be like to wake with her in the morning sunlight, to know her delicate touch tracing along the planes of his face, her eyes sparkling as she played with his hair. He had seen it in starlight, lamplight even, but not the sun. How different would it be to see how her lip would pale beneath her bite as she was caught staring, or would laugh as he rolled closer, kissing along her throat, hands sliding along her sides to caress her silken skin. All the while the sun kissing their bodies.

Had she felt anything remotely familiar the night before? When he held her in his arms and bit her neck? He had never fed from her before, no, but the intimacy of it had felt akin to their nights under tavern sheets. Her breath hitching in his ear, her body so pliable under his touch. He swallowed hard, echoes of her moaning his name within that tavern inn caressing up his spine. How her lithe body would writhe under him, for him, her supple hips rolling in time with his. Her soft thighs wrapped around his middle. Her warmth surrounding him. Claiming him. Dragging him towards that peak, her skin flushed with the moment, her nerves dancing alongside his, her pupils blowing wide as her hands gripped the headboard, voice peeling into the air once again.

He could ask.

What was the worst that could happen?

She could say no, and really, that was her right.

Or she might say yes. And then he could know it all again. Feel it again.

Taste it again…

"Astarion." Gale spoke suddenly and Astarion jolted out of his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"I wished to apologise, if I may?"

Astarion did a double-take, the debauched thoughts paling as his steps crunched on the ground and reality waited for him to catch up. Gale. Gale was speaking. Right. Astarion raised a brow and looked the wizard over. "And what, pray tell, do you have to apologise for, Gale of Waterdeep? You better not have snuck any magical items out of my pack for a snack…"

"No, I refer to last night."

"Oh."

"I was too quick to judge, too hasty in holding a spell over you like some executioner's blade… It was wrong of me. And thankfully Amne was around to bring sense back into the equation. I just wanted you to know where I stood now, in the light of day, with hindsight to hand and all that."

Astarion looked ahead, Karlach was talking with Lae'zel and Shadowheart walked alongside Amaya. It really was quite the little group they had, wasn't it? Astarion smirked. "Well I appreciate it, truly. And do not worry yourself on it either, apology accepted, as I hope mine is? I sincerely didn't intend to blindside anyone."

Gale nodded. "You're an astute chap, and you had your reasons for guarding the information."

"Indeed. Thank you, Gale."

"You're welcome. Now then, as you mentioned it so generously–"

"You're not eating my stuff."

"Worth a shot…"

AMNE POV

Hearing Gale speaking to Astarion behind us was encouraging. Not only did it seem like the wizard might be actively trying to rebuild a bridge, but Astarion was actually letting him do it. Amazing. And relieving. It was hard to tell how much my words of reassurance or encouragement might have stuck or not. People could agree one moment and then act the opposite in the next. Still, I had to give this group due credit. They all had their issues. They all had their pasts.

I just had to continue trying to unearth mine.

Shadowheart kicked a stone further along the pathway. "So you truly can't recall a thing?"

"Nope." I sighed. "I woke up on those sands outside the Nautiloid and that's it. There's flickers and little ideas of feelings but… Really it's just all blank. Trust me, as soon as I know anything, I'll be sure to share it." I laughed and shook my head. "Sorry, it all sounds so ridiculous."

"Not so." Lae'zel suddenly spoke from behind us. "You are an upfront type, and very blunt, even by my standards. I see no reason for you to lie. If it is revealed you are, well then of course we will react accordingly."

Shadowheart raised a brow. "Such as?"

"It will depend upon the manner of the lie."

I bit my lip. "I'm glad you believe me, Lae'zel, but I'm also glad you'll keep me accountable."

"Quite so."

And as we turned to continue on our way, the air thickened. But not in a 'oh I have a bad feeling' way, in a literal, something is coming kind of way. I grabbed my sword. The others had their own weapons to hand as well. What the hell was that smell? It was like–

Pop.

Something crackled into existence, and we all turned to see a man approaching us. Swaggering his way over, a congenial smile slapped on a fairly handsome face, brown hair smoothed back, fine clothing, seemingly human. But I knew that smell. We all did, especially Karlach. Avernus. So either a warlock on a wander, or perhaps something more in the area of devils… Our weapons remained out, and he came over to our group as casual as you might a bunch of friends in the pub.

He smiled a little broader, arms wide as he considered us all on this unremarkable road, between nothing and nowhere. "My, my, what manner of place is this? A path to redemption, or a road to damnation? Hard to say, for your journey is just beginning."

I hoped everyone else felt their skin crawl like I did. His words had little meaning in all honesty, they sounded good, and rumbled in his deep voice, they sounded compelling. But the point remained elusive. He seemed to be alone, but that didn't guarantee he was. My sword was sure in my grip, and I knew the others would be ready to act if need be. What was this guy? And why had he so suddenly cropped up?

He sneered and leaned back. "What would suit the occasion? The words to a lullaby, perhaps?" He raised a finger as if an idea had struck him. "The mouse smiled brightly; it outfoxed the cat! Then down came the claw, and that, love, was that." He laughed, though none of us joined in. "They do know how to write them in Cormyr, don't they?"

We all stared blankly. What the hells was this guy on about?

He bows. "Well met, I am Raphael. Very much at your service."

I eyed him and glanced at the others, they seemed happy for me to take point on this rambling madness. Alright.

I took a long breath and dipped my head, not allowing my gaze to ever fully leave this figure though. Danger rolled off him with every breath. "So am I talking to the mouse or the cat?"

"Neither." He straightened and tilted his head. "The fox, rather, hiding in a word: a silent observer – about to break the silence. Of course, what I have to say merits some privacy – as well as some more… let's call it refinement." He looked at our current abode of a country roadside and smirked. "This quaint little scene is decidedly too middle-of-nowhere for my tastes. Come."

And as that last word landed, the rest of the world was thrown into disarray.

White light flooded our vision, the world fell away from our feet, and that smell of Avernus was suddenly swamping our senses. I checked, but the others were with me, their shapes coming back into focus as things settled and we found ourselves landed in a lavish room. High ceilings. A table stuffed with food and drink, set as though royalty were coming to stay sometime soon. Thankfully the rest of them looked about as bamboozled as I did. Our host however, was simply smiling.

He smoothed himself down. "There, Middle-of-somewhere."

"Care to be more specific than 'somewhere'?" I gritted my teeth, nerves on high alert at the small but effective show of power. Seemingly, unless it was one hell of an illusion, he had transported our whole group with a click of his fingers. That took power. Real power.

He nodded. "The House of Hope. Where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed - lavishly. Go on. Partake. Enjoy your supper. After all… it might just be your last."

Not one of us moved closer to that food. Seemed we all had the same instinct screaming in our heads that this was nothing short of a trap. A trap I had no idea where it was actually leading, but a trap nonetheless. We all knew our circumstance. We all knew we were fighting day by day to survive these things in our heads. But did he? And if he did, how?

I unsheathed my sword ever-so-slightly. "And what makes you say that?"

"Call it a ninth sense." He grinned and his visage was suddenly consumed by flames, they crackled and spat, curling over his body without a scream to be heard. And as they cleared, my suspicions were confirmed. A devil. Stood still in that fine clothing, but now with horns and an impressive set of wings to go with it. Oh, and of course a tail. Forked, naturally. "What's better than a devil you don't know?" He chuckled. "A devil you do."

My sword came out a little more.

He inclined his head. "Am I a friend? Potentially. An adversary? Conceivably. But a saviour? That's for certain."

"And you think I need saving because…?"

Laughter peeled from his lips again and he spread his arms and wings alike. "Come now. Why play hard to get when you're in deep over your tadpoled head? One skull, two tenants, and no solution in sight. I could fix it all like that." He clicked his long taloned fingers and we all jolted.

It was tempting. Of course it was. So far we hadn't found any means of curing these things, and any leads we had followed had only led to more questions. Or more symptoms. Our timers were ticking louder with each passing day, and we had no idea when they would actually run out. But even so. Even though my world before the Nautiloid crash was a miasma of darkness and the unknown, I knew this was a bad idea.

I clicked my tongue. "You're mad if you think I'll make a deal with a devil."

The rest of my group bristled, but as I glanced to them I found only solidarity. They approved. They were with me all the way. Thank the gods. Some of them might have wanted to do it, I guess. Then again, surely they would have spoken up if that was the case. Right. They're with me. For now at least, which was all I would consider for the time being.

His eyes lit with something, but at that point it seemed more like amusement than annoyance. "And what is madness but a denial of reality? Still, I've a feeling you'll change your mind. Before it's changed for you…" He sneered. "Try to cure yourself. Shop around – beg, borrow, and steal. Exhaust every possibility until none are left. And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair – that's when you'll come knocking on my door."

I could feel it, the spiral of that journey, the degradation of each failure, each dead end. But that was it, wasn't it? He fed on desperation. He wanted us broken.

I set my jaw and let him continue.

"Hope… Ha! Such a tease."

Clearly he was feeling very pleased with himself. And while right now it revolted me to even consider the idea, he had a point. If we had literally no other options, maybe this door wouldn't seem so impossible. As much as it disgusted me, I couldn't rob that opportunity away from us all. That wasn't right.

"And if I did eventually hit that rock bottom moment, and I wanted to take this deal, or any of us did, how would I find you?"

"I'll be around." He grinned. "Watching you squirm like a tadpole through a nice juicy brain. All those pretty little symptoms – sundering skin, dissolving guts – they haven't manifested yet, have they? One might say you're a paragon of luck. I'll be there when it runs out."

Whoosh.

The white light, the ground shifting, and then back to reality. The birds continued singing, the pressure was gone from the air, and our unexpected figure was nowhere to be seen on the road in front of us. I shuddered. I think we all did.

I looked to them all and they looked right back.

"Well… Shit…"

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