Chapter 14 - Cremate me
The party wanted one more day, before they tackled Ketheric, as it promised to be an insane fight, so Ana said to go Reithwinn Tollhouse back and try with the tax man (lady) again. Livia carefully watched through her memories… After they defeated the golden lady, they ended up on the roof, to ensure they looted everything, and Livia just accidentally…
Well, ever since he made his confession, he was standing closer to her, kept closer to her, was looking at her more often, was searching her out, so it wasn't a huge problem to step on the roof where it was clearly fucked… Liviana and Astarion both fell through the roof, now locked inside the room they couldn't get to a moment before… and Livia fucking disappeared.
Just fucking went poof.
Ana was standing there, horrified, but quickly realizing she must act.
Astarion thought he was interacting with Livia, but he was correctly interacting with the person that cared about him, it was her emotions he was reacting to, not Livia's. Quite a conundrum.
Once they looted the room, and heard the rest of the party search for ways to get them out of there, he sighed and turned back to Liviana. He looked into her eyes and just stepped closer, then pulled her to himself.
Livia wanted to watch whatever would happen, like an ongoing entertainment, but she knew, if Ana detected her anywhere, she would've pulled her by the hair back up, so she had to make herself completely scarce and have no idea, be completely lost inside of them.
Oh god, where is she, Ana thought, as she stared into red eyes up close.
"At least whilst they're looking I have you to myself for a moment…" He whispered, and she legitimately wasn't planning on allowing anything like that, but it was sort of like combat: you are surprised!
Before she knew what was happening, Astarion pulled her to his body and was kissing her.
Stronger people than her would've fallen.
She lost control instantly, it was a crit 1 on constitution, persuasion, deception, wisdom, intelligence, self-protection, not being a deceitful shithead, and not becoming instantly so turned on, her knees went weak.
She had one last second to again wonder, horrified, where the fuck is that fucking bitch I will murder her, and then he gently tilted her head, and it would've been a crime to not enjoy what he was doing to her.
Just, for a moment, let's be honest: some people were so good at what they were doing, even if you purchased their art accidentally, the only sane reasonable reaction was still to appreciate it, even before you returned it for a refund.
That's just what she did, as he held her upright, because he could tell she got weak in the knees.
She went wet for him instantly, and it horrified her, but the next gentle move of his tongue in her mouth removed all shame, embarrassment, fear or critical thinking.
She grabbed onto him hard, and kissed him back properly, like she denied herself this entire time, up to now.
She thought he would just continue kissing her back, but before she realized what was happening, the vampire responded to her, walked her backwards, pressed her against the wall, lifted her legs, wrapped them around his waist, and just fucking went all in. He was insanely responsive to her. He felt so ravenous, as if he had to hold himself back, lest his teeth would cut her lips. They were responding to each other in a way that felt outside of control, outside of decisions, she just had to kiss him back, and when he felt it, he just had to kiss her back, harder.
It was so good, she had a fleeting thought, that if in this moment he started undressing her, she wouldn't have stopped him.
Which was insane.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, she just kissed him back, determined to get more of his taste, of his feel, determined to have more of his scent in her nose, to insert her fingers into his hair, suck on his tongue… She did all of these, and it was glorious, even better than what she imagined. As her fingers felt his hair, she moaned into the kiss, moved her tongue against his, tried to get even closer…
Astarion, to her surprise, moaned straight into her mouth, and his kiss got rougher, less sophisticated, even more animalistic. He was so hard against her, she was entertaining thoughts that had nothing to do with contraception, and everything with yelling at the party outside to please fuck off, leave one moonlantern, and just fuck off, please, leave us alone!
His mouth was almost primitive at this point, their tongues met, fought, and she felt his abs clench, as he fought to control himself. He stopped for a moment, panted, looked into her eyes with such greed, she felt fear of him and excitement both. She was scared, but before logic could say something, knowledge reminded her, by all means, this most likely was the last kiss of her life.
Tears stood in her eyes, and his forehead creased, he gentled, kissed her cheeks, eyelids, rubbed his nose on hers.
"What's wrong?" He asked, when her face, through Livia's face, remained a mask.
"Nothing." She lied. "Kiss me." She asked.
He delivered, she felt his breath against her face, as he was kissing her again, his arms hard around her.
As emotional agony and physical pleasure speared through her entire core, it accidentally touched Livia, who was somehow lost very deep in the waters she was not supposed to be swimming in.
Ana ripped herself from the vampire's lips, because it was impossible to focus on anything when she was kissing him, and pulled Livia up higher.
Where the fuck have you been…
She started hissing at the tiefling, who was looking around all confused and unsure apparently, how she disappeared, but then he went in again, his tongue opening her lips, and her mouth just responded, and her joints literally went loose from pleasure. Being able to feel the press of their bodies, the hard angles, he was under her hands, muscles and softer parts meeting and pressing, she was almost dizzy from bliss. Astarion chuckled into her mouth, and held her up, supported her in his arms, and kept lapping and kissing. The wetness of their mouths, tongues, and how sweetly he kept so close, so openly was as flayed by the kissing, almost as much as she was… Suddenly, for a moment, she had a temptation to break down.
Just fucking break down, like a child. Tell him to stop, introduce herself, tell him everything, beg for rescue, more kissing, weep, be held, anything. Even shouted at, but have an actual interaction with someone who kissed her, like she was precious. Even if it was a lie.
She realized tears slipped down her face, and Astarion stopped kissing her, and looked at her with true anxiety.
"Liviana! What's wrong? Please, tell me!"
The use of the name was like a bucket of cold water.
She literally mentally grabbed Livia by the throat, and threw her to the mental front, while she herself retreated.
Before she disappeared, she spoke quickly, because there were only seconds left now.
Soothe him, calm him, lie to him, don't you dare mistreat him, I need to go, do not search out for me, I will be back later, I am not angry with you you disappeared but this cannot happen again, do not search for me, I will be back in the morning I must needs go…
She managed to say.
She made it literally at the last second.
As she collapsed on her knees in the darkest part of herself, she thanked the dark gods, that neither Livia nor Astarion will be able to hear her where she was.
And she screamed.
And screamed.
And screamed.
And then she screamed some more.
And loves light blue
Led me to you
Through all the emptiness that had become my home
Love's lies cruel
Introduced me to you
And that moment I knew I was out of hope
Kill me
I begged and love said no
Leave me
For dead and let me go
Kill me
I cried and love said no
Kill me
I cried and love said no
HIM, "And love said no", album: The greatest hits 1997-2004, rel. 2004
"Ugh, lashers. Balthazaar let one of his walking carcasses lapse from his control. Let's ferry them back.
Wait!
By the Bonelord! It's you!
I thought I'd never see you again, I wanted to keep you for myself, but they shipped you away!"
Liviana stood shell-shocked, as a lady in an insane hat, called Kressa Bonedaughter spoke to her, as if she knew her. Ana was curious, cautious and scared. Livia felt the same, but in greater intensity.
"You… knew me?" Livia managed to squeeze out.
"You talk! And… you are aware!" Kressa exclaimed, at it was a huge clue, as to the state she used to be in. Livia could physically perceive Ana awakening her entire mind and focus to pay better attention, to spot everything.
"Oooh… but what an arresting voice you have! You're not supposed to be here, special one, it's not right! I don't want to damage you! You were my very first, after all. I learned everything about the parasites from you. I remember finding you, close to death, beaten black and blue on the floor on this sanctum…"
Livia's heartbeat went into insanity. It was one thing to hear Ketheric speak to her, as if she used to be on his level, and then fell from grace, and completely different to be delivered the fucking details.
"It must have been a few hours after the tadpole was placed in your skull. How you got here was a total mystery, but I stitched you up just enough to keep you alive, then placed you within your crib. I kept you as mine, until you were needed by our superiors… We had such a close bond. I opened you up endlessly with my scalpels, and got lost in your insides."
Livia, for the second time in her life, felt disgusted with the concept of blades exploring bodies willy-nilly. It wasn't just because it was her body, not at all.
She couldn't identify with the mindless creature Kressa was describing. She couldn't picture herself mute, unable to move, without any true agency, laying there like a victim, unable to stop Kressa from playing with her organs.
The vision she was describing made her nauseous. Once again, she thought about the human, her issues with mobility and agency, and felt a steady stream of empathy for Ana.
But, if she didn't want to be a hypocrite, and that felt insane: she had to feel the same empathy for herself, when she was placed in such a state, when she was nothing, only victimized.
She felt the party's shock, as they listened to Kressa's words. She swallowed nausea and managed to ask.
"What happened to me? How did I end up being found by you?"
"I was not behind it, I do not know… But whoever did it, I am so glad they left you here for me. Truthfully, I am not surprised to see you found your way back here, all by yourself. I knew you were clever. All other victims who come here just meekly obey. You trashed, you fought, you were indomitable. But as special as you are, you shouldn't be swanning around here, acting as if free will is yours again."
Kressa's voice was sophisticated, elegant, enunciating so beautifully, that Livia would've missed the content staring at the pretty packaging of it. And the implications, the violence, made her head swim.
"We're going to kill you, sweet one, but I promise I will stay with you, afterwards… Lashers, bring this one to my table and prepare this one for a long night of experiments… " Kressa proclaimed, and the entire party, Ana included, felt relieved they could do something practical, and good for Livia, and that meant gutting the necromancer and her entire entourage.
Livia wanted to cause pain, Ana wanted to make cuts that would for moments, give Kressa a taste of what she could dish out, but they disagreed on the location. Livia went for the face, Ana was eyeing the ribs, but after a moment, she gracefully let Livia lead, and she plunged a dagger into Kressa's eye, before she continued stabbing her, but not to kill her immediately.
But Kressa and her grunts were not incredibly strong, and after a short fight, Livia was standing over her corpse, panting, shocked.
The mystery of who she was, now laid wide open, could no longer be denied that it had to be solved for their survival. She felt Ana's warm reassurance, and for the first time she thought she was glad for the stowaway inside of her. She didn't even need to reach out to a friend, she didn't need to verbalize, she didn't need to explain, Ana was just there and was there for her, too.
Who attacked her? Why was she connected to the entire conspiracy? Was she truly someone high up the chain of command, before whatever happened, happened?
What happened? Who was she?
As they looted the area, they encountered an empty pod that looked like someone crashed their skull against it, to get out.
And succeeded.
"Astarion… Humor me please, can you smell that pod for me?" Livia managed to speak without her voice trembling.
The vampire came closer and sniffed.
Sniffed again.
Looked at Livia.
Sniffed her fresh wounds, as Matthew Budj managed to scratch her.
"Oh yes, it's definitely you. I would never forget this bouquet." the vampire confirmed.
Livia was so happy Ana was there: she was shell-shocked, but the human felt and thought things she would've, if she wasn't completely reeling out of her orbit.
Astarion kept his face completely controlled.
The idea occurred to him some time ago, because it maybe didn't make sense, wasn't supposed to happen, but sometimes it felt like Liviana was two people, housed two separate, independent minds in one body.
Now he had a confirmation he was looking for.
He did, in fact, recognize that bouquet.
As they progressed through the area, they encountered a chamber with pods. In some of them, were mind flayers, in others, still people, including Zevlor.
As he carefully studied Liviana, it felt like a discussion was happening inside of her, as she beheld the pods and what could be done with them.
It was completely normal for a single person to hear arguments from two sides of their own identity.
On one hand, kill everyone who was a danger, on the other, save the innocents, quite predictable predicament.
After a moment of hesitation, Liviana released the pods and combat started again.
Astarion paid very close attention, so he could see there were two main efforts there. For one, Liviana was a fantastic killer. Secondly, there was obvious analysis and strategy there, as the tiefling did her best to make sure the innocents saved from the pods would remain alive.
They succeeded. Zevlor explained himself, and Astarion wasn't interested and didn't care, but despite being a tiefling, Liviana placed a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.
They rescued Mizora, Zariel's asset, found the pool empty of tadpoles and finally, they encountered some sort of a puzzle Liviana insisted they solve.
After excruciating thirty minutes of stupid arguing, in the end they left Liviana alone and stayed quiet, and then listened to the words the solution of the puzzle revealed.
Astarion felt legitimate shock. A controlled Elderbrain… Mind flayers as a civilization, culture of their own… Only Liviana appeared calm, and that explained the thoughts he caught from her sometimes. She had knowledge she couldn't have had, as if she had done at least some of this before. She showed no surprise upon finding Mizora in the pod, and calmly explained if they kill the bitch, Wyll dies, too, so that option is out.
And then, they finally made it to where the Nightsong was held.
It was not a good day for the party, not a good day for Wyll, not a good day for Karlach, or Liviana.
Privately, Astarion also thought this was not a good day for him either.
Wyll's father, Duke Ravenguard, was currently being employed as a chair, or it should be said, volunteering as a chair, for a woman so beautiful, so dark, and threatening, she would make a blind man whistle.
Her skin was pale grey and black, liquid designs kept moving over it, without any logic or pattern. Her eyes, in black makeup, were white on white. She wore a carapace that looked like it was made out of bodies of red insects, the design sophisticated, revealing and horrifying. Her long hair in a braid had pieces of metal in it, and reached her knees. She was the most beautiful horror imaginable.
This was Gortash, Ana pointed out to Livia. A black haired man, with an easy smile, forty or young looking fifty, in an elaborate black costume right between the master of the darkness and a pragmatic merchant, both.
The third person was an elf, withered with age, grey-haired and appearing deathly tired. Ketheric Thorm himself wielded a dark pink Netherstone on his armor. Orin the Red wielded a red one in her knife, and Lord Enver Gortash wielded a purple one on his fist, embedded in metal that embraced his hand, as it was a part of the entire ensemble.
"You said it was under control." Gortash spoke calmly.
"It isn't you I answer to, Gortash." Ketheric responded.
"Motherfucker, Gortash!" Karlach shouted and entire party was horrified, their hiding spot would be uncovered. They shushed her, but she stayed agitated, light and fire clearly moving fast under her red skin.
"Oh, this is the general's voice, is this where we salute?" Gortash quipped.
"Yesss, salute, with our cleavers through his blood starved flesh, how it crawls with failure, like flies on lick- wet carrion…" The woman spoke for the first time.
"You're forgetting yourself, Orin, I've played my part." Ketheric spoke, and it felt insane to consider that psychotic beauty capable of a logical, rational conversation, but if he spoke to her thus, she must've been.
"You built an army for our masters, true enough, but what of the Astral Prism? A rogue True Soul flaunting it under your nose all this time, and you ran from her…" Gortash pointed out.
He is so intelligent, Ana said. He is intelligent, competent, calm, he is the biggest danger out of three of them, once we remove Ketheric.
Why?
As long as Ketheric lives, he is a danger. No one can win with someone motivated by love, and he sold his soul for Isobel's life. Orin is horrifying, but in my opinion of the three of them, she is the least dangerous.
"Sure that they would follow, and deliver it into my hands here - if you would cease these distractions…" The old elf spoke.
"The distractions had been all yours, Ketheric, perhaps we never should've dug your daughter up…" Gortash pointed out.
The elf growled and raised his fist to the other man.
"So you haven't lost your edge… But you're still not as sharp as Orin, I'd wager." Gortash spoke, as in his rage, Ketheric didn't even realize Orin raised her blade right under his throat.
"The slayer against the undying one, that would be fun to see." The human man spoke in a calm, intelligent voice, never feeling out of balance with anything that was taking place.
Livia could perceive Ana analyzed his voice, his way of speaking with her entire body, like she was all ears, all eyes, all brain.
She noticed everything about the human man. How he dressed, how he styled his hair, how he spoke. And with every minute, she felt Gortash was an insanely dangerous enemy for a simple reason: he was motivated by more than evil, he was competently logical and thought in terms of actual societal progress. Ana's knowledge branded that as a danger so insane, Livia decided she would ask about it later.
What is "Riese" of Owl Mountains, and what on Earth are you thinking about now, instead of focusing on the conversation?! Livia hissed out at the human.
But Ana, whose heart was pounding, send a shortened message about something that happened on Earth.
Essentially, discovering existence of genes, of DNA, was a gamechanger. Freshly upon this discovery, Earthlings understood very little about them, but the obvious question posed itself: what if… criminality was in genes?
What if… predilection for evil was genetic?
What if there were genes present in people, and that is what made them capable of rape, barbaric behaviors, cruelty towards others?
What if this gene, of criminality, of evil, actually existed, scientists asked.
Livia felt her attention move back to the conversation between the Three.
"His cryptbreath sings to my sinews again, and again, again, again. But… he must lead the murder march to Baldur's Grave…" The woman spoke.
"If the weapon is truly in your gasp, Ketheric, might I suggest… closing your fist. Orin and I can wait for you no longer. The plan proceeds, we're going to the city and we expect you to follow… army and the weapon in tow." Gortash finished.
They moved and stood in front of the waters… and that's when it happened.
"The edict of Bane." Gortash raised his fist.
"The lash of Bhaal." Orin raised her beautiful red dagger with the stone embedded in it. Like Gortash's, her stone shined at the command.
"The testament of Myrkul." Ketheric's stone was in his armor, and as three stones connected… A massive brain rose from the waters in front of them.
"An Elderbrain… one of the cruelest and mot powerful creatures in existence, enslaved by mere mortals…" The Dream Visitor spoke to the party, and Livia was reminded no one else knew who the fucker was.
"There we are, it wouldn't do to fight in front of our guest… Behold, duke Ravengard, the Absolute." Gortash introduced the Brain.
"Helm preserve us… " The Duke whispered.
"You wag your wordflap in vain, Ulderling, once the worm holds the whip, your shredded flesh will serve us…" Orin said with relish.
As Wyll's father was tadpoled, the Blade's emotions, trepidation, worry, horror, how would they ever defeat this monstrosity, hanged over entire party like a dark cloud.
"Now it's really time we were going, we will empty this place and begin the march. You may catch up with he army, once you retrieve the weapon. And Ketheric… do try not to sulk, you're supposed to be the fearsome general come to conquer the city…" Gortash said.
Ana nodded wholeheartedly.
…motherfucker angsty like an emo, she said, whatever that meant. Livia turned her back attention to the scene in front of them, right as Gortash spoke.
"… And I am the hero who will save it."
Ana nodded again, not even very surprised. She was shocked to see the actors herself, but the plan they had was simple, good and efficient. Didn't have to be inventive, if it was reliable.
It is time, faithful ones, march on Baldur's Gate, we go, to prepare the way! Female voice spoke.
The voice they gave to the Absolute.
The army started to march.
Two of the Three disappeared, and only Ketheric stayed behind, with the Nightsong bound magically, not far away from him.
The party was ready to fight, and Ana reminded Liv they must tackle the Nightsong first, as long as she is not free, he will regenerate, stupid fuck.
Ketheric, true to his words, didn't appear surprised at all to see them again.
"There you are. As predicted. What is it, I wonder, that draws one towards death like moth to light?" Ketheric asked, when they revealed themselves.
Ana rolled her eyes mentally and said to Livia: Moths aren't actually attracted to light. Their eyesight is poor and intense light confuses them, if they're in the range of it, they just literally don't know what to do with themselves to escape it. That's why moths surround intense light sources. As for being drawn to death, he is its lapdog, so he should tell us. Just fucking kill him, he is so full of shit.
Livia detached to release the Nightsong, the rest of the party attacked Ketheric.
Their faces were something to see, when he was raised as the Avatar of Myrkul.
For that special occasion, Ana told Livia to keep a scroll of disintegrate from Auntie's, for their first use of it.
As the Avatar was defeated, and his Lord abandoned him, the party felt no sorrow.
Ana felt sorrow for the doggy who liked the smell of Selunité magic and that they couldn't take him with. Scratch for sure could be a big brother to one more creature, right?
When the fight was won, Livia's mind like clockwork kept coming back to Orin. Not because she was beautiful or because she was a beautiful horror, but with no explanation at all her mind just kept replaying the image of the female monster. Her movements, gestures, voice, way of speaking.
And you say she is the least dangerous of the Three, Livia offered doubtingly.
Each of Three are insanely dangerous in their own ways, but she is the most emotional one and the least strategic one. Ana said.
And no, I don't know why your mind keeps jumping to her. I didn't have a reaction like that to her when I saw her for the first time.
She serves Bhaal.
Yes, Lord of Murder.
Something went through Livia, an intense, physical, but unidentifiable sensation, at the thought of Lord of Murder.
Ana placed a loving hand on her shoulder inside their mind.
Let's go.
We deserve to celebrate.
Livia nodded. She wanted to have sex, with anyone who would be available.
Astarion drew her same way as always… and that was the biggest clue she just liked him. After his confession, because she and Ana shared a body, she experienced heightened emotions and physical responses, but they weren't hers.
She liked him. She liked fucking him and she genuinely liked him as a person. He was someone she could respect. But the attraction she felt towards him when he stayed with her entire night evaporated, after his confession. Livia suspected it was the vulnerability that did it for her: while she liked the reliability he displayed by staying with them, the confession he made after Araj made her see him as too soft on the inside. Not like bad or unacceptable, nothing like that. Had he been a woman and he would've revealed that softer core, she would've reacted the same. She just was drawn more to someone who wouldn't have a layer of that softness, like that. And thus it became incredibly easy to cheer for the vampire and the human to get together.
But Ana got suspicious after Livia's little trick on the roof. Reithwinn Tollhouse was a massive structure, and its roof was also massive. In another part of it, they found two skeletons holding each other, and a book of poetry. Astarion's face was impenetrable, but he couldn't have known, only Livia could have, that unknowingly, him and the human displayed an identical frequency of a reaction, when they beheld the scene.
It was a mixture of endless envy and terror: was it worth it? Was everything they were missing even worth it, if the price was to watch the one you love suffer and die, be a part of this hard world, in which they could be hurt at any moment?
Ana caught her thoughts, and luckily accessed them from the angle of the skeletons, not her and Astarion.
Some say that grief is the price we pay for love, and that it's in reality, a bargain.
But I am not so sure. Nothing feels as if it could make up to me the ache of seeing the vampire dead, after a horrible life. If he dies after a happy, long and fulfilling life, it feels different, but still the world we live in is so hard… So many things to jump out at you and those you love…
Livia didn't need to touch Astarion through a tadpole, she just needed to look at his face to confirm his thoughts went in exactly the same direction.
In the House of Healing, there was also a pair of skeletons, though separated. Husband and wife, husband didn't know wife was a Sharran. These two sets of bones stood against each other in sharp contrast: what love claimed to be, and what love actually was.
Suddenly Livia connected, and managed to keep these thoughts to herself, why Ana never would've sacrificed the vampire, when that horrible night happened.
Why she could sacrifice Gale or Halsin or Isobel.
It was overall sum of experiences.
Isobel, Gale and Halsin had their fair share of normality and happiness. Their early deaths would still be a tragedy, but they did experience not just horror in this life. Astarion, whatever good he used to know, was extinguished by the horror of his slavery and everything that was done to him. By gods, the man was tortured so excessively it literally didn't phase him, he lost that normal reaction of fear or empathy, when seeing tools of torture.
This was what Ana couldn't stand. She could accept his death after a life in which he had experiences that balanced out his torture, but at the moment, as it was, his death was unthinkable to her. It was an anathema.
Livia once again thought, that whoever was behind Sceleritas probably didn't sign up for an enemy Ana could be, if truly pissed off.
Once again, image of Orin the Red flitted in her mind, and her body had a physical reaction she couldn't quite decipher.
In the camp, they drank, ate, made stupid jokes about Ketheric and the Three, and others they managed to kill. Initially, entire camp almost was celebrating. As night fell, Aylin and Isobel disappeared first, most likely to make each other scream, which was reasonable. Then, Karlach, Wyll and Gale decided they had enough to drink and stumbled to their bedrolls. Jaheira went, too.
Eventually, only Liviana and Astarion stayed.
Livia was mostly horny physically, and mentally confused about everything she found out today, about the Three and what Kressa revealed. The mystery didn't let her rest. How did she ger there, to Moonrise? Who was she?
Astarion however looked at her not with adoration, but calm detachment, observed her though a layer of cynicism that she didn't understand. Ana was focused only on what was coming and to her, what was coming was the rite Astarion still didn't know about.
"Awfully quiet you are, my sweet." He said, swirling wine in his own bottle.
Livia stayed silent and let Ana respond.
"I am thinking about what is ahead, and that means Baldur's Gate and your master." She said, staring into the flames.
"And what are you thinking about my master?" He asked. It should've been a warning to Ana, the very tone he used, but the girl was completely in her own mind.
"I am not thinking about him at all, actually… I am thinking about others he enslaved, other than you. I am thinking about the victims you brought him." She drank.
"What about them." He answered, his face suddenly serious and hard.
"I know you were fighting for survival… but what you've done for him, is vile." She shot straight, and Livia suddenly wished she could be somewhere, anywhere else.
"What he did to me is vile." Astarion's face twisted.
"You could've done more. You should've done more. You should've done more to resist him, instead of just bringing them to their doom." She said, staring into the flames, and Livia realized that the girl is drunk and speaking her mind.
She couldn't stand the reality of what Astarion did. She also wanted him regardless, and to try to manage her own emotions, she tried to focus, over and over, on the worst aspect of him, hoping beyond hope something in her mind will give, and it will stop desiring him so much.
"What do you know about torture." He spat, and his face was so full of contempt Livia said to Ana: how about we stop drinking for today and go to sleep, huh?
Liviana raised her head to look at him.
"I know enough to know, you should've tried harder." She said, looking into his eyes.
The sound of a bottle of wine breaking on stones was loud like a scream in the night. He threw the bottle.
He stood up.
"You have no idea what you would've done, if your life was on the line. You have no idea how far you would've fallen, what lows you would've succumbed to, had it been you." He said with dignity.
Liviana's face remained unchanged.
"I know enough about torture and survival to know… some things aren't worth surviving." She hissed at him.
The implication made him mad.
"You have no clue what you're talking about. You have never experienced rape, torture or slavery, so shut your mouth. Because right now I don't understand what I was thinking for even one second, wanting to fuck you."
Liviana flinched.
She got up, too.
"Tell me." Wooden voice. "What did you try to do, before you stopped trying." He would've become even madder, but the tone of voice was not of mockery, but an honest question, just very resigned.
"Once, in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy who I couldn't bear to bring back to him. So I ran, instead of hurting that sweet man. After Cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year. A year of silence. Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out. More months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death. So don't you ever judge me for doing what Cazador ordered. Nothing can make up for that. Not even Cazador's death."
He said.
Liviana closed her eyes, while he was speaking, she was completely frozen.
"I… have greatly offended you. I apologize."
She wasn't even looking at him, but somewhere at his feet.
But his rage was out of control now, regardless of her apologiess.
"As for rape, you fuck with such freedom, it's quite obvious you have no fucking clue, what it's like when your own body doesn't belong to you, when your own pleasure and sensitivity is used against you, when your own needs…" He stopped, mid-sentence.
Now she raised her head to look at him.
"I know enough about rape to know that you shouldn't have slept with me, to secure your place in the camp… not because of you, but because of the possibility of me being a victim, who is now getting to be used for her body again, by you this time." She said quietly.
He took a step back, as if shocked.
Then he became really angry.
"Oh, that is rich coming from you. Tell me, did you even for a second ask yourself if I consent to fucking two people in one body?"
Liviana whipped her head up.
Took a step towards him.
"Yes, I did. That's why you only ever had sex with the tiefling, and not with the other mind inside this body. Some things… aren't done, Astarion." She hissed out.
But he was too angry.
"So yes, because I do happen to know some about rape, I never would've fucked someone to secure their alliance, making an object of myself and them. Because I know about rape, I never would've expected someone like you to make others into objects, when you have freedom not to do so. And I know enough about survival to calculate that not every risk is worth taking." She said.
He lost his mind here.
"What could you possibly know of rape?! What could you possibly fucking understand about survival, huh? Tell me!"
She didn't respond. Her face, in the fire, was covered in tears. There was no sobbing, no sound, only the wet tracks in orange flames. She kept silent, and suddenly, he got scared.
It couldn't be, could it? She was so lewd and full of lust… So loving in touch, and safe, and foolish enough to trust the likes of him… She kept quiet, didn't even look at him. And he got scared.
Please. Please… No… No, no, no, no… Please, let her be ashamed of stupidity she thinks she understands an experience she never had… but please… let this be… an experience… she never had… I will forgive her the insult she thinks she gets it, but please… Gods… Don't let her know… Don't let it be… Why it mattered so much, he didn't know. Ah yes, so he could be right and she could be wrong.
She got up from the fire and wiped her tears. Calm. He wasn't sure what to think. But then she cleared her throat and looked at him.
"You know there is more than one person in this body."
"I figured. What really clued me in though was… actually, why am I telling you, you fucking liar? Without that last bit of confirmation, which happened today in the Tower, I wasn't sure, but blood doesn't lie. So thank you so much for respecting me and giving me a choice! Why would you ever, you know, tell me of such a minor detail as the fact THAT THE PERSON I AM FUCKING, IS IN FACT TWO PEOPLE SHARING A BODY!"
Ah fuck, Ana said with sorrow, he thinks it's lack of respect for him, not self-preservation on our part. Also…
What did he mean? Confirmation, today?
Also, puhlease, Livia thought, while Ana was mostly steered in pure remorse of conscience. He started fucking us to use us, and now he is grandstanding? Hypocrite.
Even if he used us, this doesn't change the fact we took a choice from him.
Like he almost didn't afford ME one, when I woke up with him above my fucking neck! He didn't tell the party he was vampire, until he was sure he was protected, he didn't tell a word about being a slave, until he was sure he was protected, if there's anyone who should understand what it's like to stay quiet for your own protection, especially about things you cannot change, it's him! Livia shouted angrily and that made Ana feel better. This entire time, she had no choice about being there, she just was in Livia and revealing two bodies in one mind… Who knows how people would've reacted, not everyone is a goody two shoes like Karlach, ffs.
Astarion was seething, angry, when a thought occurred to him.
Oh God… was this body… was one of them… abusing the other?
She sensed his thoughts and swallowed: "No. We work together, nothing sexual and we needed time to separate, even mentally. So… no, there is no abuse here and you didn't sleep with two people. You slept with Livia. I… though I wish I could partake of flesh so freely like Livia can… I cannot. We - never had sex if that makes you feel better. You and I kissed. That's it."
Liviana. He was getting angrier and angrier.
"Thank you so much for telling me now, I feel positively special. Please, tell me more, why won't you." He hissed out at her.
She wiped her face again, swallowed and decided to ignore this jab. "Yes. I am not of Toril, as you already figured out. Withers… likes me and so he agreed to some necessities from my plane should I become fully able to leave Livia's body, and inhabit my own. Withers said if I manage just once to fully step out mentally out of Livia I should regain my body here. We are almost there."
"Wait…
So… I have never seen you?"
"Like, physically? No. This is Livia's body. Tiefling extraordinaire. I am human and not nearly as beautiful as her. Good for you. You prefer to fuck the prettier ones."
"If that is what you think of me…" - he seethed - "You understand nothing. Nothing."
"Oh, I understand plenty, Astarion."
She wiped the tears again, completely absentmindedly. He realized… He saw this somewhere. Yes. Dalyria and Violet and Yousen. Godey and Cazador were encouraged by screaming and tears. All of them learned to cry the way this creature was crying right now. As she kept speaking, tears kept leaking. No sobs, no arms shaking, voice sounding… almost normal. Astarion knew: it took serious training to learn how to cry without letting your voice change… or without making a single sound, only your own breathing. Only by listening to breath patterns, or seeing wet cheeks, you could tell.
"Withers knows. He apparently wasn't expecting that, but as soon as my and Livia's mind separated even within her mind, he could see there are two people. He helped me and he… I feel like he has high hopes for me. Either way, Withers can see us both, as separate people we are, he knows what we are, where we come from. Though he isn't forthcoming with answers for Livia, he did confirm what I asked. I therefore was forced to ask him to fetch some of my… personal things from the realm I am from. I also asked Withers a favor, he doesn't fetch only the necessary things, but also a few other trinkets.
One of them specifically is a gift for you."
"Oh yes? What is it? A poisoned apple? A spit into my eye? A sharpened stake?"
"It's a device. It allows you to listen to music. It was charmed so it works and as long as it exists on this plane, you can understand the lyrics, as if they were in the language we speak, though this is from my plane of existence. I planned to give this to you regardless of this conversation, before this conversation happened… Because I wanted you to know. Because me and Livia were one for so long, she learned this, too."
"Know what?" He asked madly.
"Know… What I understand about rape.
What I understand about… not having choice over your body. What I understand about being desired to the point… you become an object. What it's like… when no one can see past their own desire for you. What it's like… when they would reach out to touch your hair or your thigh without your permission, they know they don't have your permission, and they feel justified by the sheer strength of response you elicit in them."
Livia was speechless. In their entire time together, the girl never even alluded to these things so openly. In their mind, it was there, on Ana's side, so it wasn't a surprise, but the fact she just said this so openly still made her want to strangle the vampire, because he most likely didn't even realize, how much it cost her to be so vulnerable.
Astarion swallowed. No. Please. No.
It didn't matter. What did he care. He was raped. He was a rapist himself, to those who slept with him and thought it would lead to something that wasn't doom. They agreed to sex, not being murdered by Cazador.
"This is a song… I've been listening to for the past year, constantly. Livia said she can hear me playing it in my mind, and she requested a listen." Suddenly, Liviana nodded, as if she was the second speaker agreeing with the first. With the mind connection broken between the three of them and two bodies, it looked insane.
"This… This is what you put in your ears. This… is how you turn it on and here is where you regulate volume. Please, just… Listen."
Fresh tears spilled on those cheeks like rivers. She paid them no mind.
"I loved this song for me. But then… you happened and… And I cannot help every time my mind plays this song… I can see… I can see you singing it. Screaming it. Living it. Knowing it. Just… listen." She put the object in his hand.
She she turned to leave and then turned around again, half of her face illuminated by the campfire.
"This… is what I understand about rape."
She wiped her tears again, practically, without any mind paid to them, and walked away.
He went back to his tent. Divided between the instinct to destroy the gift and rage for days, and just for a moment, consider maybe she was motivated by the same fears he acted on… He decided to swallow his rage, for now, and give it a try. He could always decide later he was done with the whole thing.
He needed a moment to work out the device, and then fit the things on strings comfortably into his ears. The device glowed a blue shine… And he heard music.
Initially, he wasn't sure what he heard, it started so gently. But once he realized it came from the things in his ears, it consumed all of his attention.
Cremate me
Deliver me to safety
So that when it's spent maybe
It would be my own
Scatter ashes
Leave no marker where you plant it
So the hordes will be disbanded as they search
On a treasure map for my headstone
Leave me to the beasts and bears
I'd rather that the feast was theirs
They can't reserve neighbouring plots
Or request to be buried on top
Leave me for a day or two
To make sure that I turn blue
For the first time since I drew breath,
I'm undesirable again
I'll tattoo it
Just so they think it's ruined
and if they think it's ruined
It's easier to save
But please hurry
If you really love me
you'll dispose of me
Unceremoniously in the waves
At this point, the words of the song triggered something, he connected suddenly. All the times Liviana came over to kiss him, he could now separate at least three occasions it was the other one. Especially that one time, in his tent, when she asked for his permission so sweetly, and so truly, she emanated that if he said "no" she would get up, and leave or move away, no hard feelings… And the way she was looking at him, the way she touched him, the way her hands didn't go to his pants, but to his face, he was instantly so turned on he couldn't believe it.
"We only kissed, we never had sex."
Because you were raped.
She kissed him and the moment he grabbed her clothes and pulled her closer to himself, she ripped himself away, he felt an undercurrent of fear, but it didn't make sense… and a moment later, eyes of full of warm lust were looking at him. Not calm respect, not hidden sorrow, not tenderness, but warm lust and when he kissed her again, the insane reaction he had just a moment ago, lessened considerably.
What really pissed him off right now, was that now that he connected, now that he realized and had proof… Now he could also pinpoint moments when the tadpoles connected on their own, and he heard thoughts that didn't fit the style of the murderous tiefling… Now that he could separate what each of these two women was like, when they interacted with him, it really, really pissed him off that what he wanted most at the moment was not to slit her throat, because she deceived him, but kiss her breath out of her. Just angry-kiss her, until he was no longer furious with her, and then go to sleep with her in his arms. Fully clothed, if need be. Spend an hour shouting at her, release the wrath, and then kiss the fuck out of her.
Leave me to the trees and air
I'd rather that the feast was theirs
They can't reserve neighbouring plots
Or buy cuttings of my priceless locks
Leave me for two days or three
'Til my fingertips turn green
For the first time since I drew breath
I'm undesirable again
Astarion's fingers twitched. Memory of awakening… as a vampire…
And they will come
In such dismay
That they never did discover where I lay
And I will burn
My flesh and form
Screaming the words
"it will never be yours"
I'll take the flame over desecration
Promise you'll make on these arrangements
Don't you dare think it's overkill
I wouldn't wish the watching on anybody
So if for that reason only
Swear to me you will
Leave me to the beasts and bears
I'd rather that the feast was theirs
They can't reserve neighbouring plots
Or request to be buried on top
Leave me for a day or two
To make sure that I turn blue
For the first time since I drew breath,
I'm undesirable again
Astarion put a hand over his mouth. And wept quietly, softly. After a moment, the song started playing again and he as he listened - he almost pressed his thumb to stop the device… but then let it continue. And suddenly, he had to get out of here. Anywhere. Alone. Be alone.
He had to get out of the camp. Anywhere. He walked blindly, device in his hand, in his ears. His tears changing, rising, the emotions rising, like a sea that would devour him, drown in salty waters.
He went as far away as he could, before he ended up on his knees. He didn't want to, but the song started to replay itself and he couldn't take it. He started to scream. And scream. This, this is what you did to me. Should've burned instead. This is what happened. Oh, gods.
Astarion screamed. And screamed. And screamed. Fell to his knees. Surely the camp could hear him, but he no longer could care, he was embracing himself on his knees, rocking back and forth. He had to scream. At least no one could see him. Thank fucking gods he was alone.
He listened to the song… Two times and it was now fucking branded into his very soul. Then the third time.
After the third…
He wept. And wept. And wept. And screamed. And screamed some more, though it was more like howling.
As his mind replayed the lyrics, lids were popped on memories of two hundred years.
so the hordes will be disbanded as they search for the treasure hunt for my… headstone…
And oh gods, this singer. She sang it perfectly. Most of the lines were sang as if she was barely open to talk about anything, unwilling to share. Calm, cool and collected. Instructions… for a lover you trusted. Not necessarily one you slept with, but one you could trust.
Astarion started weeping again. His back was shaking, he couldn't stop the screams, the sounds his throat was making.
Leave me for the beast and bears
I'd rather that the feast was theirs….
Oh gods. The things he did… the things done to him. Had he known, had he had the slightest inclination, he would've begged the Gur to finish him.
But he didn't. He was alive, now. Almost… free.
Leave me for two days or three, till my fingertips turn green, for the first time since I drew breath… I am undesirable again.
Oh gods.
"This is what I understand about rape".
He crawled up of his grave, retching blood and soil and took first breath and Cazador was waiting. Honestly, he would never know… but he suspected had he not been beaten to death by the Gur, Cazador would've found him anyways. There was a pattern to the choice of the spawn that revealed itself to Astarion, when he was no longer the only one. They were… beautiful. Seductive. Not to the point he was and didn't draw nearly as many, but still. Dalyria looked like an innocent child a man wanted to protect, Leon caused both men and women to wonder: was his embrace as warm as it seemed?
Yes, Astarion recalled how the father could touch his daughter. So many years and he never considered drinking her, all of them starved beyond measure and even if they lost morals and would throw themselves at the child, they wouldn't because it felt like Leon could in a second then become more horrifying than Cazador. Cazador… how could he allow this child in the palace, all of that? And if the father lost his cool, and drank his child? Well, Cazador had opinions about parents, and their rights to how they could treat their children. Cazador wouldn't have stopped it, of course. Abuse after all, was business of parents and children, how could he interfere. Aurelia seemed like a mischievous fun fuck, until she revealed her vulnerability and it always shocked Astarion how many people fell for that, how many men and women were turned on by that. It was a clue he got early: vulnerability. This is what lowers people's defenses. All peoples. The most intelligent, capable folk, the bad people, the good people, this was the key: vulnerability… or appearance of vulnerability. Once he got that, there was no mark he couldn't get. There was… incredible power in that. Of all the aspects of seduction you play, this one must be perfect. This one must be done spotlessly. You can trip over your feet, lose your erection and stink. But vulnerability has to appear real and it still works. Then tripping over your feet and losing an erection were to your advantage.
Astarion was the way he was before he died. Vampirism only amplified it and taught him to wield it, but he always heard the comments made about him in hushed whispers. "So beautiful…", "Look at this hair…", "Look at his skin"… He got used to the fact some people wanted to own him, to possess him. But he owned himself, had a position, was somebody, and could choose, the threat was… small.
He was afraid, but forced to consider: Cazador… was utterly capable of hiring the Gur to beat him. All he had to do was tell them a lie that he was, hahaha, a vampire (how would anyone be so beautiful without vampirism?) or something like that. Maybe the decision he made had little to do with it, he would, one way or another, be targeted by Cazador, once the vampire master laid eyes on him just once.
I'll tattoo it… so that they think it's ruined…
And if they think it's ruined… it's easier to save…
Of course he came up with the idea. Make himself ugly. Shave his head. Cover his face with tattoos, cover his body, this lustrous skin. This idea, a thought Cazador detected, was one of the first times he saw Cazador truly, truly angry, and even after 200 years, he couldn't bear the recall all the details of consequences that followed.
But please hurry… if you really love me…
You'll dispose of me, unceremoniously in the waves…
Astarion wept. This song was more than an expression of understanding, it was a message. From her. This girl who looked at him like he was beauty personified, kissed like he was made of broken glass…
It never occurred to him… that night in the grove… during the party… Oh gods…
As his thumb moved unconsciously again, the song played and then got to the chorus.
And they will come
In such dismay
That they never did discover where I lay
And I will burn my flesh and form
Screaming the words "it will never be yours"
Astarion wept. It slayed him, what emotions he heard in the singer's voice.
I will take the flame over desecration!
Loudly, without shame. With shame. So, so much shame. Maybe… once in two hundred years… it no longer mattered you weren't walled in a tomb, where no one could hear you. You just had to scream. And he had so much screaming inside. So many tears unwept.
It will never be yours.
It will never be yours.
Never, you hear me? Not Cazador's, not the thousands of spawns he slept with, not the strangers who desired him from afar. It won't be Livia's or Liviana's or Withers' or Emperor's. It will also… never be his again. Right?
But he could pay that price, if no one else had it either. This is… Oh gods. One night lying next to Livia he heard a thought, and it didn't fit the lewd mischievous cute lover he just had. The voice sounded… slightly different, the frequency a little… different. "The safety of the grave" the voice thought to itself. He caught a glimpse of someone's thoughts they didn't mean to let anyone else hear.
"The safety of the grave".
This. He… never suspected… Dead and gone… was so safe, she was right. She was right. There was safety in the grave. Rest, even for the wicked. Even for those wicked hunted by the even more wicked. But he didn't choose the grave, he chose life. Life, hahaha. Slavery was more than he ever imagined it could ever be. How little he knew of world's evils as a magistrate in Baldur's Gate. If he had known… of the thousands of bodies… and thousands, tens of thousands of gazes that looked at him as if they already bought him and paid for him…
Dress him in dog collars, leather, straps, pierce his ears, style the hair, underline eyes in dark makeup. Dress him up, go ahead! Make him even more seductive. And then, make him arm candy. He went for this so many times.
I will take the flame over desecration.
She would make on these arrangements, the other one. She would know… it's not overkill. She wouldn't allow anyone to cut of a single piece of pale locks. She desired him - now what he felt made sense - so strongly, she could barely breathe. The tiefling liked fucking him, but that's it. The other one, the one with the soft low voice desired him more than her next breath, more than defeating the Absolute, more than anything. He could feel it when he was next to Livia, he just attributed it to the wrong one. He could feel the wonder in her, when tiefling's fingers moved over his skin, his hair… And ended there, there was no more touch, for she knew he didn't consent to being touched by her. It wasn't the tiefling. It made sense. She literally displayed two sets of reactions, and thoughts, two sets of fucking behavior almost, though almost none of it when he fucked her was from the other one. She disappeared before he entered Livia. If she desired him so… Why? She would absolutely have him even like this, he could tell, even sharing him with the tiefling, but she disappeared the moment penetration happened. Now it almost all made sense.
When they started to kiss and touch then, it was… insane. Just… mad. He was like a teenager who never had anyone, but was so horny nothing else existed. Every touch, every kiss, every breath was rapture. Ecstasy. Haven. Safety. The sucking of the lips, the meeting of mouths, the meeting of breaths… and the horrific places inside of him, withered and desiccated… suddenly were no longer in a condition so bad. The parts of him that were filled with stranger's sperm, cleaned away, healthy, recovered. Reclaimed. Just as they kissed so madly... And it wasn't… about that. It just happened… underneath. When it was happening it didn't even matter healing took place, this he paid attention to later. When their lips met, all that mattered was swallowing her mouth, her tongue, her next breath, claiming her, holding her so tight she wouldn't escape… Her breasts flattened against his chest, her frantic heartbeat, smell of her skin, her throat. It wasn't for him, tenderness or intimacy or kinship first. It was greed.
I must have more. It was so bad, so good he could tell from experience that never happened, but it was obvious it would now: the moment I will enter her, I will come. Instantly. Fuck it, I recover quickly, I will apologize and we will go again, without me leaving her body.
But… it never happened. Just when he lined himself up to enter her, the sensations lessened incredibly, were like… normal sex. Still very, very good. Still so healing, so cleaning him from inside. But… no longer unbearable pleasure that had claws that rendered flesh of his soul, tore apart to bloody shreds the abuse he underwent. Still, the memories of other bodies… just beyond arm's reach, but nonetheless, unable to touch him, though he could still sense them. And he entered her… and he fully relied not on the sensation of taking her, but on the memories of what just transpired, the kissing and touching that happened a second before because… those were the most sexually pleasurable moments, this wasn't abnormal during sex to move your mind like that. And he still made sure tiefling liked it and they were both happy. It was good sex, very good. Better than he thought he would ever have again, it was without the strangers who touched him for so long, it was good fun. But… it was not the rapture.
So the other one desired him with even greater intensity, than he could feel in strangers who wished they could lay hands on him. And yet…
She wouldn't allow anyone to lay hands on white skin. She herself wouldn't touch it beyond necessity to bury him or dispose of him in the waves or make him burn. Beyond anything, she would swallow her desire without a thought, and the fact he wasn't inhabiting this body anymore, he would never know… and she still wouldn't once touch a pale curl or his cheek. Just… no. She wouldn't cut off a pale curl, to remember him by. She would let him go, all of him, without a single touch, because she knew he wouldn't wish it.
When he made a deal with Cazador… He wanted to live. It never occurred to him… that there was a safety in a grave.
That immortality could come with a price no one would be able to pay. That the dark gift was a farce, what he truly got was a master no slave could run away from and he often wondered: why did he stay alive? He could've just… slipped out, arranged so to be there carelessly for the sun's rays to find him. Why did he fight? He didn't know. But he refused to die, though he died a million deaths. Pliers, and once they realized how he attracted victims, spells, so his skin wouldn't be marked. Godey learned quickly. Cazador liked to do only the most important punishments for only the gravest sins himself.
He should have taken the flame over desecration. Had he only known… what desecration was to come.
Astarion wept. He sat on the ground, embraced his knees, and wept. Rocked back and forth unconsciously and wept.
And no one but those who experienced it understood: it wasn't just what you did and what was done to you. It wasn't just lack of choice. It was… It was what you learned about humanity, when you were a slave that sealed your doom.
He didn't know how much time had passed. It could've been minutes. Could've been hours. And that promise that she made… Gods. This had nothing, nothing to do with them fucking because… he fucked only the tiefling, not the other one. It was beyond that, aside from that. After all, he never suspected… He didn't think… When he woke up on the beach, he was several hours maybe free of his slavery, but didn't even know it yet. And then the Dream Visitor came and…
Astarion put his knees to his chest. Sun would rise soon, his inner clock told him. And then, he would be strong again. He would be sarcastic, self-serving and an overall asshole again. But for now… as long as the darkness lasted… this one night in so many years… He could weep. He could listen to the truth as it was… and weep.
In the sunrise, he would be strong again. But now… he started the song again. His teeth gnashing so hard his jaw hurt, his shoulders hurt from aching, his throat was raw from screaming.
Made sense. He held these screams in for two hundred years, after all.
