#i wish i could be myself or lobotomized | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atlas-of-a-human-soul · 10 months ago

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A little danger, pt. 16

A little danger - Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sky of Eraklyon x mind!fairy

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, violence, sexual innuendos, descriptions of blood/wounds/death

———— PART 16 ————

Laying on the bed, Y/N is silently staring at the ceiling as Sky sleeps. She spent hours trying to retrieve his memories, to bring them forth from darkness but it only caused them both pain and nosebleeds. After the fifth try, Sky insisted it was best to stop. Y/N agreed.

For now, at least.

Stella texted her in the morning, letting her know Queen Luna had arrived. Surprisingly, she informed her that the students don’t remember Bloom’s role in Rosalind’s death, but the Queen does. She succeeded to some degree, after all. Not as useless as she believed she was.

The girls will try to convince the Queen to release Bloom later in the day, Stella acting as a layer of defense. The others will find where Farah was buried.

That should go over well.

Part of her wishes she could seek her grave as well, to get some much needed closure, but Sky is here. He’s alive and Farah isn’t and the person who did her harm is already dead, so what is the point. Revenge is off the table, all that remains is sadness and Y/N has plenty of sadness in her life.

Glancing at Sky, she envied how peaceful he seemed. Not even an inkling of worry or heart-wrenching sorrow as he’s asleep. It’s ridiculous, but it angers her. How is it she’s the one saddled with all the rage, sadness, and worries? Somehow, Y/N is meant to take the brunt of this horrible thing that’s happened to them and she will. As long as there’s a chance to bring Sky back, the actual Sky she knows and loves, she’ll take anything life has to offer.

“I feel you staring,” Sky murmurs and she sighs.

“Here we go again.”

“I don’t mind,” he smirks, eyes still closed. “I know I’m easy on the eyes.”

“Is there an off switch for the cockiness?”

Chuckling, he raises his brows and glances at her before his gaze falls to his hardened member. “There might be.”

Rolling her eyes, she gets up. Head in her hands, she groans. “I can’t believe the dick is back.” It felt like they made some progress after their talk last night, but this made her believe it was all an act.

“It’s a natural process,” Sky defends.

“How do you even know that? You remember pizza and morning wood, but I’m not even a footnote?”

Shrugging playfully, he smirks, “Food and their dicks, kind of the most important part of any man’s life.”

Turning away, she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Guess I’m the idiot thinking I was an important part of your life too.”

Heading into the bathroom, she slams the door behind her.

Licking his lips, Sky sits up. “Guess I’ll just…handle it myself.”

Yanking the door open, Y/N glares at him. “If you jerk off anywhere near my bed I will lobotomize you!”

Rolling his eyes, Sky scoffs. “You’re all bark and no bite.”

Filled with anger, Y/N’s eyes glow with a soft, violet light. Sky cocks his head at her determined expression, raising his eyebrows as she extends her hand toward him. As if caught in a gentle breeze, he feels himself lifted from the ground, his body floating weightlessly in the air. Holding his breath, he looks down, marveling at the realization.

“I’m flying!”

Clicking her tongue, she scowls before pushing him against a wall. “Actually, I’m biting.” Adding light pressure to his neck, she smirks. “I’m not one to be played with.”

Instead of fear, a sense of wonder fills Sky’s heart as he gazes at Y/N. The way she commands the room, the tempered way she speaks even in anger, and the gentleness of her power despite his arrogance is mesmerizing. He’s captivated by the purple hue surrounding her, wishing she’d release him and allow a single touch just so he knows he’s not imagining things and this is real. That she is real.

When she finally lowers him to the floor, he lands with a soft thud, his eyes never leaving hers. Without any words, he closes the distance between them, cupping her face with a tenderness she missed greatly.

“I’m not playing with you, I promise.” Licking his lips, Sky’s eyes flicker to hers for mere seconds before focusing on the remnants of purple in her gaze. It’s dear to his heart despite reason, as if it speaks to some part of his soul he’s lost.

Swallowing thickly, she closes her eyes. “It hurts.” Returning his gaze, she sighs. “You have no idea…the weight of what we lost last night is suffocating me. And you’re here, but not really. Sky, you’re a stranger with a fascination, not the man who loves me.”

“You can reverse it,” he shrugs meekly as her hands pull his away from her face. “You’ll bring me back to who I was and it will be fine.”

Looking away, she covers her mouth and he realizes she’s holding back tears. “Would you want that?”

“What do you mean?”

Letting out a heavy breath in response, she sits on her bed. “A lot has happened to you Sky. A lot that I know you’d rather not have to deal with. Maybe that would be the best thing for you?”

Frowning deeply, he shakes his head lightly. “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” she responds instantly. “I’ve never seen you this carefree before, not since we were kids!”

Getting on his knees, he rests his hands on her thighs carefully, as if awaiting her reaction. “You say I loved you.”

Nodding, her lips quiver. He’s right before her, he’s touching her and his eyes are filled with confusion. Somehow, she’s managed to break him in less than 24 hours…he was a clean slate, happy! If he went with Stella, he’d still be content instead of lost like a child.

“If I loved you as much as you say, I don’t think any amount of heavy shit that would come with loving you would matter.”

“You only say that because you can’t remember what it was. It broke you. I broke you.”

Before Sky can say anything, his phone rings, startling them both.

“What the fuck is that?”

Taking the phone from his jacket, Y/N answers, putting it on speaker.

“You’re calling a guy who has no memories. That’s a new level of stupid even for you.”

“Figured you’d fix him by now with your fairy shit,” Riven remarks. “Saul’s calling all the specialists. The Solarians found Sebastian’s hideout. It’s not far from here.”

“And he clearly left Sky out for obvious reasons.”

“His memory might be wiped, but his muscles remember the training,” he clarifies. “We have to take these guys out. End this war before it begins. If he’s capable of fighting, he should come.”

“How do I know if I can fight?” Sky asks, ignoring the disgruntled look on her face.

“Have Miss Sunshine bring you down and we can check it real fast.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea. Saul won’t let him come anyway,” Y/N insists. “Even if he can fight, he has no idea what he’s fighting.”

“Blood witches are evil, control people like puppets whilst enjoying killing us and the fairies. There, now he knows.”

Grimacing, Y/N shakes her head. “It’s too dangerous. If he’s coming, I’m coming too.”

“No!”

Raising her brows, she sets her lips in a thin line. “Since when do either of you think you have any choice in the matter?”

“Since they nearly took your magic last time, which would have given them all the power they need to kill us all!”

“Listen,” Y/N licks her lips, “I’ll bring Sky, but if he goes with you, I’m not staying behind. So, it’s really your choice.”

Once they got to the grounds, Y/N was hoping Sky wouldn’t show any physical capabilities. If he was just an ordinary man, he’d stay with her away from the fight. This would make her life so much easier, she’d be able to breathe again and maybe find a way to have him fall in love with her all over again – without the memories of their past that so deeply affected their lives. She’d force herself to let it all go and just enjoy him as he is, to truly live this time around.

But that didn’t happen.

Sky successfully blocked every attack Riven utilized against him, having Riven pinned to the ground so effortlessly that it seemed as if he was better at this than before.

“He’s coming with us,” Saul states. “He’s perfectly capable of fighting, and you can do the same here.”

“What?”

“Bloom is gone, Y/N. Her sentence is harsh and she’s out of the picture for now.” Staring at Sky throwing Riven over his shoulder, Saul shrugs. “Unless you save her.”

“But Sky –“

“Will be with me. I will keep him safe as I’ve always done in the past.”

Wrapping a protective arm around Y/N, Saul kisses her temple. “Queen Luna is a powerful fairy, but your power is ancient. She can’t fight you and Bloom openly, so she’s manipulating events to take you out of the game one by one.” Giving her a pointed look, Saul raises his brows. “Do not let her.”

Glancing at Sky, Y/N nods. “I have to talk to him first.”

“I understand.”

“And if something happens to him, Saul, I swear to you I will burn The Otherworld to the ground.”

Despite the severity of her threat, Saul smiles. “I’d help you.”

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she draws in a shuddered breath as catches Sky’s gaze on her. It wasn’t an accidental glance or a shy glimpse, he was staring at her unapologetically as if he knew she was undeniably his.

Yours truly.

Sky frowns in confusion, rubbing his forehead. His eyes widen slightly before putting his shirt on, hastily walking toward her.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Saul taps her shoulder, reassuring her he will protect Sky.

With his shortened breathing, Sky places his hands on his hips. Towering over her, he quirks an eyebrow. “You know, I could have sworn I heard you just now.” There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a glimmer of bewilderment dancing in the blue-green depths. “But your lips weren’t moving,” he manages a wry smile. “More like…your voice echoed in my head? Does that make any sense?”

A pang of guilt tugs at her heartstrings, her lips parting slightly. “Yes,” she sighs. Biting her lower lip, she struggles to find the right words to express her remorse because she’s done it again – Sky hated intrusions of this sort, so how does she explain she messed up without him running from her.

“I’m sorry,” she decides an apology would be most sincere. “It’s not a conscious thing most times. Seems like it happens with you often though, I still don’t know why.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she turns away from him.

Curling his fingers around her wrist, Sky turns her to face him. There’s a subtle, but undeniable intimacy in the gesture, one that sends a shiver of warmth coursing through her veins. “Don’t turn away from me like that. Okay? I don’t like it. In fact, I really don’t like when you decide how I perceive things. I don’t know how I reacted to stuff before, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to be the same. You said it yourself, I’m a stranger right now, so don’t assume I’ll go off the rails about things I don’t even remember.”

In response, she moves her hand, mirroring his gesture, holding onto his wrist, their position resembling the solemnity of making an unbreakable vow.

“I’ll stop assuming,” she promises. “I’m sorry I keep projecting all my problems and insecurities onto you. I think I’ve always done that and it’s exactly why we broke up.”

“See, some things are best left forgotten. I don’t really want to remember that. Sound painful as fuck.”

Pursing her lips, she tugs at the zipper of his jacket with her free hand. “Yeah. It is.”

Narrowing his eyes at her, he cocks his head ever so slightly. “What is it?”

“Hm?”

“You’re trying to say something. Just say it.”

Exhaling as she smiles, Y/N drags her palm into his hand, holding it tightly. “Saul wants you to go with them. He’s the closest thing both of us have to a father. I trust his judgment.”

Raising his eyebrows, he chews his lips. “Alright. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Nodding, she forces a smile. She has to be strong and project confidence and assurance for Sky’s sake, but there’s nothing other than anxiety in her heart.

Her lips curve upwards, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes. It's a facade, a mask she wears to hide her true emotions. She can feel the tension radiating off Sky, his sharp gaze probing her facade, searching for the truth hidden beneath her carefully constructed facade.

“I won’t be coming with you.”

“Oh.” Inhaling sharply, he nods. “Well, that’s understandable. You’re a fairy, I’m the specialist. Riven made it pretty clear my role is to protect fairies.”

Summoning all her strength, she steadies her trembling breath and nods in affirmation. “That’s the bare basis of it. But there are layers to it. Plenty of layers, especially for us.”

“Peel a few for me before I leave?”

Cupping his cheek tenderly, she holds her breath as he leans into her palm. “I’m your fairy, Sky. It’s not just a random pairing they made in class, we are connected in a deeper way. When we have to defend each other, we are deadly.”

“Do others have their fairy?”

“Some do,” she shrugs. “It’s a rare thing.”

“Are other fairies joining this fight?” Sky tightens his hold on her as she shakes her head.

“Mind fairies are the only ones effective against Blood witches, but we don’t have many at this school. One of my friends lost her magic the last time we faced them…I nearly lost mine and we cannot afford mine to be taken away, no matter how much I wish it.”

As the words sink in, Sky's eyes widen in disbelief, his mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of what Y/N has just revealed. For a moment, he is frozen in stunned silence, his heart clenching with a mixture of shock and anguish.

“You wish for that?” He can't fathom the idea of Y/N willingly giving up her magic, the very essence of who she is. It's as if she's offering to sacrifice a part of herself, a fundamental aspect of her identity, and the thought fills him with a profound sense of sorrow.

“Why would you –“ With a heavy heart, Sky reaches out to Y/N, his fingers trembling as they brush against her cheek. He searches her eyes, silently pleading for her to reconsider, to see the beauty and wonder of her magic in the way he does. He’s barely seen a fraction of it and he’s already hooked.

Riven’s voice interrupts the exchange. “Get your ass going! We are leaving!”

“We’re not done talking about this,” Sky states firmly, but there is a glimmer of understanding, a flicker of empathy for the pain that must be driving Y/N to such drastic measures. He can see the weariness etched into her features, and in that moment he realizes that wish stems from a place of profound desperation - a longing to be at peace. If he’s part of the reason, then he can’t imagine what a dick he truly is to have her questioning this beautiful part of her soul he’s inexplicably drawn to.

“NOW”, Riven shouts.

Huffing, Sky frowns as she pulls away from him. “Stay safe,” she smiles.

Come back to me.

Glancing over his shoulder, he drags a hand across his face before accepting the sword Riven holds out for him. “We’re coming back in one piece, right?”

Riven scoffs, “I sure hope so.”

Watching them drive off, only catching a small wave from Sky, Y/N feels as if her heart might give up. They’re not good apart, especially not in a fight. Together they survive, but apart? It’s never a good thing.

“Now that they’ve gone, could you spare a few minutes for me?”

Y/N's breath catches in her throat as she lays eyes on Farah, her mind struggling to process the impossible standing before her. A ghost of her past in the flesh, returning to haunt her.

“This isn’t real.” Shock and disbelief wash over Y/N in waves, leaving her trembling and disoriented. She blinks rapidly as if trying to dispel the illusion before her eyes, but Farah remains steadfast and real, a reassuring smile playing on her lips.

“I’m here.”

Unable to find the words to express the emotions raging within her, Y/N simply reaches out to Farah, her hand trembling as it brushes against her arm. It's a gesture of disbelief, a wordless acknowledgment of the miracle that stands before her. Embracing her, she lets the tears flow freely.

Holding her tightly, Farah runs a soothing hand over her back. “I’m sorry darling, but we don’t have much time.”

Pulling away, sniffling, she frowns. “What does that mean? I just got you back!”

“You didn’t. Not truly.” Brushing away her tears, Farah smiles sweetly. “I did not survive the attack. When I realized what Rosalind was going to do, I drew on as much magic as I could, and called on the natural world to preserve me.”

With trembling lips, Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t have long, but I do have time for one final lesson. For both you and your friends.” Farah turns around, waving her hand lightly. The girls followed shortly after, forming a tight circle. Bloom’s with them, much to Y/N’s confusion. Didn’t Saul say she was gone? Isn’t that the reason she was told to stay behind?

“When I was your headmistress, I shielded you from the harsh truths of the world. I believed that positive emotions were the cornerstone of powerful magic. Rosalind felt the opposite. That strength was only forged in those harsh truths. We were both wrong. To unlock true magic, you must make peace with all your emotions. The reckless joy of the positive and the despair of the negative. There is beauty and power in both. I'm so proud of each of you. And of the women you're becoming.”

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Y/N folds her arms. “Using my emotions in my magic has only ever caused others to get hurt. It’s not that simple.”

“Y/N, shall we take a walk?”

Walking toward the woods, Y/N grumbles. “Are you sure it’s not Bloom you meant to invite?”

Farah chuckles. “Bloom has gotten all the wisdom she needed from me. You still need a little more.”

“It’s always been this way,” Y/N remarks. “She’s the star pupil, even when she sets someone on fire. I’m the one needing extra lessons and work no matter what I do.”

“Darling, you’ve got it all wrong.” Farah stops. “The reason you needed extra care is because you’ve locked yourself in a shell out of fear. You’ve been so afraid of your powers, hating it, running from its potential, but this kind of power can’t be locked away. The shell cracks eventually and you have extremely powerful magic escaping it in terribly, uncontrolled ways. Y/N, what happens when a dam begins to break?”

“The water trickles through the cracks, slowly at first…but then there are all these pressure leaks that increase the speed damage to the structure of the dam…and when it breaks and the water comes out all at once, it’s certain to take out everything in its vicinity.”

Tilting Y/N’s chin with her index finger, Farah smiles. “Don’t you understand? You’ve created a dam that’s breaking and instead of letting the river run free, in its natural state, you’ve created a dam and pressure leaks, and when it breaks entirely, it will annihilate everything.”

Clenching her jaw, Y/N trains her gaze on her feet. “So I’ll explode one day...like I always thought?”

“It’s never too late to detonate,” Farah wraps an arm around her, moving her forward as they continue the walk. “Embrace your emotions, even the ugly ones. The fear, the anger, the grief, all of it is a part of you and you are in control. Those emotions do not control you or your magic, not if you don’t let them.”

Biting her lower lip mercilessly, Y/N looks up at Farah. “I’ve been so angry at you. So, so angry.”

“You couldn’t have known –“

“I’m a mind fairy, I should have seen it! If I was in control, I’d have known…maybe I could have even stopped it.”

Grabbing her by the shoulders, Farah frowns. “Stop! You are very powerful, darling, but you’re not all-powerful. There are things we can’t see coming, no matter how hard we try. You can’t save everybody. It doesn’t work like that. Don’t ever blame yourself for what happened to me…I don’t.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Farah sighs. “You are my favorite student. I know you’re afraid of your power, but you have to use it. One way or another, those you love will need you to fight.” Offering a smile, she takes a step back. “I believe in you. You have the power to protect this realm, to save it from those who wish chaos upon it.”

“Rosalind said something similar to Bloom once,” Y/N presses her lips in a thin line.

“How about this, then? Don’t think about saving the world. Focus on saving your world. When you have that in your heart, you can’t go wrong.”

Sniffling, she nods. “You waited until they were gone. He would have loved to see you.”

“Saul would understand. Our friendship was dear to me, you can tell him that.”

Lifting her head to the sky, Y/N wipes the tears slowly forming their path on her cheeks. “I hate saying goodbye.”

“I’m glad we have the chance to do it properly,” Farah wraps her arms around her, letting her cry while the sun goes down. As the last ray of light dies down, Y/N’s arms wrap around herself, realizing Farah is gone…this time for good.

FINALE

#fate the winx saga #sky of eraklyon #sky of eraklyon x reader #sky x reader #sky fate #sky fate the winx saga #sky fate fic #sky fic #sky fanfic #sky fanfiction #sky angst #sky fluff #fate the winx saga fanfic #fate the winx saga fic

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pixie-in-a-moonlantern · 10 months ago

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KILL ME LIKE A LOVER

Durgetash | explicit 18+ Enver Gortash x f!Durge / Halsin Silverbough x f!Durge smut, sex, p in v sex; homicidal urge, light bondage in a non-sexual setting, graphic threats of violence; prolonged emotional/physical hurt, comfort, fluff, love confession, 2 romantic relationships (separate for now, hinting at possible future poly f!Durge/Halsin/Gortash)

❗ Closely follows events of the first fic: I Don't Like You (Tumblr | AO3)

Read on AO3 for more context and comfort (I'll be very grateful if you toss me a kudo there as well, even if you read and reblog here ♥ - remember, fic writers share their work for free!)

13,795 words in 10 chapters

My Spotify playlist for this couple »

“You’re back,” he whispers, and an almost maniacal glow radiates from him. “And something in you is drawn to me, I can see it. It makes me hopeful.” He tilts his head to the side and brushes hair away from my neck. “Did you really not expect me to use every resource at my disposal to convince you to stay?”

I gulp. Gods, I should never have gone to see him. Some things are best left buried, some fires best left extinguished. But I poked a bibberbang and now my world is ablaze.

01 She walks escorted.

The Watcher walks beside me the whole way to Wyrm's Rock. I try keeping my head down, but any hope of not being noticed is lost with every thundering step the Watcher takes. People hold the Baldur's Mouth gazettes and point at the hallowed hero as she walks escorted to the City's would-be savior for an audience.

I wish I could just open up a portal to the Hells in the sidewalk and jump in. Gortash is going to pay for this one.

We finally reach the elevator to the audience hall and the stupid clanker squeezes in with me. I bulge my eyes, just about ready to go on a murder spree.

"Seriously? It goes straight up into the tower, where else do you think I could go?"

"There is no need for alarm, citizen," the Watcher assures me monotonously, not moving an inch. "I was instructed to deliver you safely directly to the Archduke, Lord Gortash."

"Would you chill with the 'Archduke' already?" I groan, head lulled back. "You know he's not one yet, right? No matter how many times you repeat it."

The Watcher doesn't respond. Perhaps Gortash expects such quips from people and instructs his hellish machines to not react. Or—perhaps if I was other people the metal hulk would just smash me on the spot for such a comment. Fucking tyrant.

What was even wrong with me when I willingly worked with this man, having just as deprived plans for the Sword Coast myself? Did I accidentally get lobotomized into a sane person? That would be one Hell of a joke on fate. And on Bhaal.

I imagine he must be simmering in his own rage, watching his prized child run around helping refugees. That little fantasy cheers me up. I lean on the side of the elevator and just chuckle to myself through the ride, mocking Daddy dearest in the relative privacy of my skull.

The Audience hall is deserted once more. The Steel Watch form a line in between the columns from the entrance to the dais on the other side, standing at attention. It's like some sort of welcoming ceremony, but just for little ol' me.

I reluctantly scale the acres of red carpet over stone flooring, feeling my chest tighten.

Gortash watches me as I approach, the remote-control suit of armor still stomping next to me. This time, he sits on the throne in all his grimy glory like the shameless usurper he is.

Except... he doesn't look grimy. Did he bathe again? What in the Hells does he think he can pressure me into doing?!

... again.

If there's a term for how his face simultaneously brightens and darkens, I can't recall, but that's exactly what happens. He's happy to see me and has very unsavory thoughts about it.

The Watcher only peels off my path once I'm literally at the lowest steps before the dais. I cross my arms over my chest and give Gortash my most unamused expression, even though my heart is racing with both fear and excitement.

He smiles as if he didn't notice it and opens his arms wide in a grand welcoming gesture. "My dearest assassin," he exclaims, voice warm like sunshine.

"Yeah, right, whatever," I roll my eyes. "So what, do I just stand here, like a pleb before their master, or did you have something civil in mind?"

He leans back in his seat and pats his thigh, a smirk playing around his lips. "You can always come sit on my lap."

Indignation and an unwelcome spark of lust flood my chest. I let out a bestial growl, not quite sure if I mean to intimidate him or my inner demons.

Gortash chuckles and, to my surprise, actually stands from his throne and steps down, until he's face-to-face with me.

It's hard to say whether he made it better or worse. I try to keep my gaze from wandering down his ridiculously low cleavage, but looking into his eyes is not much safer. They gleam with both smugness and affection and my stupid heart flutters.

"How lovely to see you, Nara," he drawls, sight approvingly gliding up and down my body. "I love how you chose to wear your custom made version of my gauntlet."

I sigh. I should've known he would bring it up.

I woke up on the nautiloid wearing that thing. I didn't remember anything about it, but it looked badass and was also quite useful. I store a healing potion in the socket and even the claws have come in handy in a pinch.

I didn't feel like getting rid of it when I noticed him wearing the same thing in Moonrise, because I grossly underestimated the significance. I just thought he set off a new trend among Baldurians and I wasn't immune to the allure. Happens to the best of people, right?

After I made the mistake of having sex with my ex, I figured ditching it won't help me anyway—if I do it now, it will only show him that I care.

"I didn't exactly have time to change for you, Gortash," I sneer. "You had your metal munchkin threaten me into coming here. It paraded me through the town, taking the busiest route. What do you think I am to you? Your lapdog? Your fucking mascot?"

Despite my derisive tone, he chances a step closer and my heart jumps up into my throat.

"You came to see me yourself first, remember? No one forced you."

"Well, at least no one saw me then," I bitch.

"Too bad," he bites his lip, coming closer.

He slowly, cautiously reaches out and runs the backs of his fingers along my jaw. I grit my teeth in an effort to not show it, but I like it too much to make him stop. He smiles contentedly and keeps lightly touching my face.

"You're back," he whispers, and an almost maniacal glow radiates from him. "And something in you is drawn to me, I can see it. It makes me hopeful." He tilts his head to the side and brushes hair away from my neck. "Did you really not expect me to use every resource at my disposal to convince you to stay? Nara?"

I gulp. Gods, I should never have gone to see him. Some things are best left buried, some fires best left extinguished. But I poked a bibberbang and now my world is ablaze.

"Do your friends know what you did the other night?" he smirks, smarminess making its comeback in his voice. "Does your druid know?"

"I tell him everything," I say equally smugly, finally gaining some leverage. "He's the most wholesome man I know. He's not trying to own me or isolate me like some."

A shadow of irritation and disappointment dims the self-satisfaction in his face. Point for me.

"Karlach wasn't so understanding," I continue, narrowing my eyes. "She's worried about me falling for you. I told her it's a ridiculous notion, but she proceeded to make me feel better by describing how she's going to disembowel you if you hurt me."

He scoffs. "I can imagine. She always was a crude weapon. Effective, but crude. Nothing like your refined style." His gaze softens again when he gently combs the hair on my temple with the claws of his gauntlet. "You never used brute force, yet there was no one you couldn't break. I wouldn't have been an exception, but you stayed your hand. Against your father's explicit wishes, apparently."

"I'll break you right now if you want," I say in a trembling voice. His tone and touch are doing things to me. I'm getting scared and the Urge in me is trying to respond to the stress with violence.

His mouth stretches into a delighted smile. "I'm sure you'd like that. But so would he. I thought you were done being his good girl?"

My throat goes dry as I recall the night it all went awfully wrong. When I failed to do my duty one too many times. When I got my reward for disobedience.

"What Orin did to me," I croak, "was Bhaal's punishment for my refusing to kill you."

Once Gale understood the predatory patterns of his former lover, he got eerily good at interpreting gods' behavior. He gave me more answers than even Gortash managed to. Knowing this lifted a certain weight off my mind; I wasn't just discarded for being useless—I was being a bad murderer to Daddy and he decided to teach me a lesson.

Gortash's face goes slack for a moment, before darkening with realization. He didn't know. Or he didn't want to. It was easier to blame Orin's ambition.

"So, yeah, I'm done being his tool. If I do kill you, Enver," I'm the one to reach for him this time, running a fingertip down that enticing window of his shirt, "I'll be killing you for myself."

He gulps, fumbling for lost balance. "Incorrect, sweetheart. It was punishment for loving me. Not calling it what it is doesn't make it any less true."

"Did I, though?" I've had a long sleepless night thinking about it. "I was a naive, brainwashed cultist. Did I really choose you? Or were you just convenient? The only man around with enough balls to risk it with me, maybe? Or worse: the only one who figured how easy it would be to use me?"

I'm hissing by the time I finish the last sentence and I can see how close to home it hits. His chest heaves and he takes a few steps back, turning from me. I can't see his face, so I assume he's looking for a way to refute my accusations.

"I don't know."

His voice is so small I can barely hear it. Small and vulnerable, filled with insecurity. I'm once again reminded of the image I created of the little boy Gortash treated to neglect and betrayal instead of love, and I feel the telltale stinging in my eyes.

He slowly turns back, his expression a pure emotional chaos.

"I... don't know if you chose me," he says a little louder this time, but still sounds so... lost. "One day we just... were and..." His eloquence bends under the heft of his uncertainty. "It was so easy to be with you, so... natural. I..." He closes his eyes against the turmoil raised by the memories. "At first I figured you were just having a bit of fun rebelling against Bhaal, but... You were so amazing. So warm, when your Urge was satisfied. I've never... no one ever made me feel like you did."

The only things I knew of our relationship were what he told me. I imagined it a lot different than what it sounds like now, after he suffered a sobering blow to his ego. I can't know how much of this is genuine... but he suddenly painfully reminds me of Astarion, the way he fumbles in the dark as soon as his winning act falls apart.

I know he's not a good man. I've heard plenty about the things he's done—and is still doing. But how much of his flaws can I blame on nature when I also know what he's been through? He's a survivor. No one is inherently evil—not even me.

The people you surround yourself with have a profound effect on you. Even Astarion's worst traits are being slowly worn down in the unexpected acceptance he's receiving. If it had been Gortash who was betrayed, almost killed and taken, and then found by such a wholesome group of similarly afflicted weirdos, would he have remained selfish and cruel? Or would he have chosen a better path, like me?

"I thought I was a 'horrible influence' on you." I swallow hard. I shouldn't believe a word he says... but I do.

"You were," he shrugs casually. I find him a lot more pleasant without the air of fake grandeur. "We did wonderfully bad things together, things I wouldn't have thought of myself. But that was your heritage." He studies my face for a second, longing in his eyes. "No one taught you to be silly and fun. No one taught you to be gentle. No one taught you how to appreciate more than blood and guts in people. You bloomed with all colors like a flower, when we were alone."

I blink the tears away and hug myself. No wonder Bhaal got mad. He wasn't raising me to be gentle and fun. He wanted a devoted follower. He wanted to own me. And yet I seem to have found myself in someone else instead of him.

He couldn't smite him, so he took it out on me.

"Then why can't I remember any of this?" I whisper. "My murdering days keep coming back to me. But the picture where you should be is blank."

I don't expect it and certainly don't wish for it, but Gortash notices my discomfort and rushes to me. He takes my shoulders and squeezes them reassuringly.

"You are his creation," he says grimly. "He has the power to restore everything within you. It's clear why he chooses only the parts without me: for the same reason he had Orin attack you. You were a different person with me—a person he didn't like and didn't need. He won't let you remember me as long as your blood belongs to him."

I'm getting overwhelmed. I feel used, manipulated, trapped. I feel my fear and smell the scent of my blood as Orin's beating the life out of me, calling me slurs I've never heard of. I feel as if someone's invisible hand presses on my windpipe and I sense a dreadful but familiar presence.

"NO!" I'm shaking my head wildly, trying to push him out. The world seems to blacken around me, but I keep fighting. "I'M DONE WITH YOU, YOU HEAR?!" I yell blindly at the ceiling, pulling on my hair.

YOU CAN NEVER BE 'DONE' WITH ME, CHILD.

I gasp when his voice thunders in my brain without having gone through my ears. It's deafening and it's all around me, smothering me.

YOUR CONTROL IS AN ILLUSION. GIVE IN. OBEY. BEFORE YOU FORCE ME TO END YOU.

I shudder and shrink into myself, falling to my knees, cradling my head. I'm suspended in agony for several impossibly long seconds... then my vision goes black.

02 Daddy sets an ultimatum.

"...Talas... Talas!"

My head is pounding and feels like it's stuffed with cotton. Someone's calling out my name... but it's not really my name.

"Nara!"

There it is. But it feels wrong. I feel movement, but can't tell what's happening.

"You know what," I grumble and I'm surprised to hear my own voice, "I've changed my mind. I hate the way you say it."

"Thank the devils," I hear Gortash snort. "As names go, exchanging 'Talas' for 'Nara' is a pure downgrade."

I open my eyes. Red mist is clouding my gaze. I feel thirsty and hungry. A rough palm cups my chin and a violent jerk runs through my body, making my teeth snap and try biting it. But the hand is strong and its grip tightens enough to hold me still.

"Easy now," Gortash hums, unbothered by my little attack. "You're safe. I'm safe. Let's work through it slowly. We've got all day."

I look up and find his face and it's the only thing I can clearly focus on. Everything else is muted, but his features are so sharp I squint at the intensity at first. But I understand. I know what I want now.

I want to kill him.

I grunt and try to reach for him, but I'm restrained. I look down through the red haze and see myself kneeling on red satin sheets. I'm still wearing all my clothes, but my boots, armor and gauntlet are off. The ties right above my elbows creak like tough leather as I strain against them, but I can clearly feel soft padding pressed against my skin. My wrists are bound in front of me. I can move, sit back, relax...

...but I need to KILL.

"Let. Me. Loose," I filter through my gritted teeth, almost foaming at the corners of my mouth like a rabid animal. Then a maniacal giggle gurgles in my throat. "And I'll show you something fun!"

"For fuck's sakes, you're beginning to sound like Orin," Gortash shakes his head in disappointment. "I'm sure you'd have fun, my dear, but if I'm not completely off my game, I believe you would regret it later. Maybe you would even cry for me?" His brows form a hopeful little arch, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I'm not keen on finding out, but I'd like to think you would."

I growl, pulling on my binds with all my strength.

"Don't be a spoilsport, Enver, come on!" I tease, baring my teeth, my tone dark, rough, vulgar. "I know you like the pain. I will cut you and slice you and bleed you real nice. You'll love it, I promise."

"Ssshhh," he soothes, caressing my face, skillfully evading my bites. "You can cut me when you calm down, Talas. You won't get to kill me today."

Anger jolts through me, hot like a branding iron. I lurch at him, uselessly dangling on the ends of the thick chains tying the leather cuffs to the bed frame.

"You will let me loose! And I'll tear you to pieces." My voice scratches like sandpaper. "I will slit your throat... and as you bleed out, I will lick blood off your soft skin." Growls turn to hisses. "I will drink blood from your sweet lips. I will shower in the thick stream of it as the last pathetic bubbles of your breath emerge and burst at the edges of the fresh cut. Then curl against your struggling chest to listen as your heart stops."

Gortash smiles as he listens, infuriatingly misty gaze softening his features.

"That sounds almost romantic," he purrs. He holds my hair firmly in his fist to keep my head steady and nuzzles my neck, slowly kissing a line from my shoulder up to my lobe. "I always thought the Urge was purely homicidal," he hums against my skin, "but is it possible you're mixing in your love and lust for me? Would you kill me like a lover?"

A chortle escapes my lips and I realize he's given me back a sliver of myself. I don't have the capacity to analyze if it were his words or his touch, but a tiny, heavily suppressed part of me suddenly knows what's happening. It knows this is not me. My Urge is spreading through me like a malignant growth, filling every inch of my torso, of my head, and that little piece of me is watching in horror.

No....

I let out a tortured moan and my head lulls back for a second. I can feel my body spasming and the agony is making it hard to keep my thoughts remotely clear. I hear my blood thrum in my ears, and a low voice speaks inside my skull:

It is wise to obey me. Yet you resist. You did not kill the Moonmaiden. You did not kill the druid. But you WILL kill the Tyrant's Chosen.

Or you will DIE in his place, child.

I feel tears trickle out of my eyes, even as my mouth is making raw, animalistic noises. The pressure in my temple grows so much I feel like my head is going to pop. It's excruciating, but I have no intention to submit. I fight with all my will, defiantly flipping off the god I didn't choose till the bitter end.

"En... ver," I squeeze through the teeth I grind so roughly my jaw hurts. My voice is but a wet wail, a desperate plea—but it's mine.

If I could focus on anything beside the blinding pain, I would see the alarm in his face. I register his hands on my arms, holding me upright. The sound of his voice carries over my head, but I can't distinguish the words. A high-pitched whine fills my ears. My vision fades to black again.

And I fully expect to not wake up this time.

03 We are still alive!

A chunk of void. A big skull in the center of it. Flames dancing in its eye sockets and around it. Almost playful.

I don't understand its meaning. Who am I, anyway?

Even though the skull is clearly before me, I can feel it surround me. It presses on my temples and squeezes my chest. I feel a headache of the century crush my head in its metal jaws.

A creature slinks from behind the skull. Hideous, covered in blood. Long body with a thick tail and four clawed arms. It hisses and chitters, spreading its toothy mandibles. Its beady little eyes are flashing with malice.

I cover my head with my arms as it jumps at me.

But it's not there anymore. I try to gasp, but a sick clicking sound comes out of my mouth instead. I hear rumbling laughter—the giant skull is pleased, it's mocking me.

I reach forward and instead of hands I see claws coated in fresh blood...

...and I wake up screaming.

There's water everywhere. I thrash and splash and heave for breath, but my arms are wrapped tight around me and my wrists and ankles bound. I accidentally splash water into my mouth, breathe it in and start choking.

Someone's big, strong, incredibly warm hands fish me out and steady me, patting my back, helping me cough. I hear a soft rumble, but this time it's not eerie and foreboding—it's familiar and soothing. A broad palm strokes my wet hair, humming comforting sounds in my ear.

"You are safe, my love. I'm here."

I lift my heavy eyelids and look up. Halsin's beautiful face is in my view and my heart is uplifted. He puts a cold compress over my forehead and I feel a little better.

"Halsin," I squeeze out of my burning throat, failing to make it sound as loving as I felt.

He smiles anyway and his eyes sparkle with affection.

"You will be alright, my heart. I will take care of you."

"I will too," I hear another voice and Gortash steps into view, obviously annoyed by Halsin taking all the credit. He's hugging his chest, nibbling on the ends of his gold claws, looking anxious and worried.

I finally realize where I am. It's Gortash's study. The flames roar in the fireplace next to the bathtub and all lamps are lit: it's dark behind the tall windows. Through the finally calm water I see my body, completely naked.

But none of those things are important right now.

"Come closer, Enver," I croak, failing to produce a seductive voice, sounding like a hag instead. "Untie me, let's have some fun. We haven't finished what we've started."

Halsin and Gortash exchange glances. It only ticks off my Urge. I flail back and forth in the tub for a second, trying to loosen the binds, but they were put on by someone who knew what they were doing. It infuriates me, tearing a ragged scream from my lungs.

"COME CLOSER, BABY, AND LET ME GUT YOU!"

"Nara," Halsin pleads softly, stroking my hair again, putting back the compress I shook off and adding one to the back of my neck. "You will get through this, I promise. The tepid water and the cold compresses should help lower your blood pressure, so you don't suffer an aneurysm. You popped many blood vessels before you passed out. That's why Gortash called me here."

I feel the Urge let up just a smidge when the cool rags press on my aching head and Halsin's voice and touch give me comfort. I try to breathe deeply and steadily. But no matter how hard we both try, it's no use. I take one look at distressed Gortash and the pull is back in full strength.

"Have you experienced this before?" Gortash asks, doing his best to ignore my rabid growls.

"She woke me up in camp several nights ago," Halsin nods somberly. "Refusal to kill Isobel redirected the Urge at the person closest to her heart, as punishment. She came to me before it overtook her and put her trust in me. It lasted the whole night, but she won in the end. But it was not this bad..."

"He..." I try to utter words that are not permitted to leave my lips. I fight my own muscles to continue. "Said... He... Dies or... I do."

Halsin's brows join in surprise and he glances at Gortash again, whose face darkens even more.

"Sounds like we really pissed Bhaal off this time. She screamed at him, defying him, before the Urge took over. I was just an outside observer, but I figured he was communicating with her. Seems like we know the gist of the conversation now."

"What were you doing?" Halsin wonders.

"Nothing much," Gortash shrugs evasively. "Talking. Talas was learning more about our past, about how and why she came to such an unceremonial end in the cult. Said none of her memories of me returned to her. Clearly Bhaal's job."

"Nhhhnnnhhhng!" I add my gold to the discussion, thrashing in the tub again. I'm glad I'm at least able to follow their words, even though I can't contribute. Sweet images of me running my hands through Gortash's spilled guts flash in the back of my mind, but they're just white noise.

Halsin wipes my upper lip with a troubled expression. He lets go of me to touch the air in that divine way of his, to call upon Silvanus, and pulls healing energy out of nowhere, pressing it to my head with the broad palm of his hand. I breathe a little easier for a few moments.

"If this goes on for much longer, I'm afraid even I might not be able to help you," he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to mine. I gulp and just moan in response, hoping my intonation will convey my thanks.

"I don't suppose we could trick the Urge somehow? Have her stab me a couple of times and then knock her out, and when she comes around I'll be lying in a pool of blood and... You get it."

Halsin chuckles in amusement.

"You would just let her stab you? Are you a masochist, or just so in love?"

"What kind of question is that?" Gortash growls defensively. "We have a problem. I'm offering a solution. If I had to die, I'd prefer it to be by her hand, but I plan no such thing just yet."

"I do not think it works quite like that," Halsin shakes his head. "But thank you for the offer."

"It's... my fault she's like this." Gortash's discomfort at admitting responsibility is evident. "I don't want her to die. So if you have ideas, I'll do anything to help."

"You can help me right now, Enver," I screech, failing to restrain myself. "Come here! Come and make love to me. But don't forget to untie me and bring me a knife. I'll show you a little trick! You'll be positively drained after I'm done with you."

"Perhaps the best thing you can do to help is to get out of her sight for now," Halsin suggests and only a touch of derision reaches his tone.

Gortash frowns and grumbles something under his breath, but takes his leave. There's only Halsin's broad form next to me now, effectively shielding me from seeing Gortash. My Urge immediately eases up and I lean back on the headrest, exhausted from fighting my own muscles.

It doesn't last long, though.

"Halsin?" I coo, swallowing hard as I feel another crushing wave of twisted need.

"Yes, my heart?" He bends down to kiss my forehead. It doesn't work as well as before, but I manage to hold back the instinct to bite.

"I love you," I tell him while I can still form words of my own choosing. "And I'm grateful for everything you do for me. Don't take this personally, but now that you're getting in my way of killing Gortash... I'm beginning to want to kill you, too."

He pulls away, but not far, and studies my face. I can see so much compassion in his eyes, but they're tired and he looks older. He wipes my upper lip again and sighs.

"This is going to be another long night, isn't it, my love?"

"Halsin, stop," I mumble weakly as he prepares another spell, looking more and more sapped every time. "Please. Just... let me go."

I'm so run down. The pain is debilitating. In the rare moments of peace, all I can do is float. My mind is fried, my organs struggling to keep running. I've had enough.

But the worst is the thought of accidentally pulling Halsin under with me.

"Do not even start," he growls. His voice sounds dry and spent, but he collects the healing energy and once more fixes some of the damage the high blood pressure has done to my vessels.

I want to cry, but I don't have the strength to do it. But I notice something: it's been really quiet for some time.

"Where's Enver?"

"He is... off trying something else."

The evasiveness would normally make me inquire, but the Urge lashes out again, spasming my body, forcing more horrible words out of my mouth.

"I WILL SKIN YOUR LUSCIOUS PELT, LITTLE BEAR! I WILL WEAR IT ON MY BODY AS I WATCH YOUR PATHETIC ATTEMPTS TO PUT YOUR GUTS BACK IN YOUR BELLY. I WILL—"

04 Unbearable lightness of unprecedented fluff.

I feel like I must have died when I open my eyes and nothing hurts anymore. The world is soft and quiet, the water around me like a blanket, the dim flickering lights enhancing the peaceful silence. Perhaps this was the afterlife.

"Welcome back."

I don't recognize the voice at first. I slowly turn my head to find Halsin—

—but I look into Gortash's worn out face, languidly blinking at me. I see a giant bear slumped on the rugs by the bathtub, exhausted from keeping me alive.

I watch Gortash in fear for a little moment. But there's no tug, no agony this time. I only feel... slight elation. My weary heart flutters, tapping into its last reserves of power.

"Enver," I whisper, letting my eyelids fall. I feel his palm cup my cheek and his lips plant a soft kiss on my forehead. Tears stream down my face, but I can't gather enough strength to sob.

It's over. It's really over. At least for now.

"Sshh," he coos quietly, combing my hair. "Do you feel like you can handle moving to the bed? I'm afraid you'll melt if you stay in that bathtub for much longer."

I take a few breaths and nod. The instant I move, I can feel all my muscles scream in protest, but I push myself through it. He's right, my skin is getting tender from soaking so much, I can't just sleep here anymore.

He unties me and that's when the ache in my arms and hands joins the party, making me whimper. I've struggled against my own body for hours and hours with only short reprieves of unconsciousness. It's taken a heavy toll. But I'm alive, and so is everyone else.

My legs are so wobbly I slip back into the water a few times, splashing around, sprinkling sleeping Halsin. His snout twitches and I hear a grumble, but he doesn't wake up. Poor thing.

Gortash is trying to hold me upright, but his angle is all wrong, standing next to the tub. But on my fourth try I manage. I just lock my knees and hope it'll be enough for a minute. I notice the water in the bath is surprisingly fresh after housing me for so long, but it's already draining—someone must've changed it several times during the night.

I gasp in surprise when warm drops start raining down on my head and shoulders.

"Another handy technological marvel," Gortash smiles. "Just try to keep yourself on your feet. Let me wash you."

He takes a sponge and a bar of soap and begins slowly rubbing my skin under the gentle, refreshing shower.

I'm too busy keeping my knees locked and staying awake to have any deep opinions on why he's being so caring. My foggy, tired mind is simply enjoying his attention.

He's gentle and thorough and doesn't shirk from any part of me, but doesn't linger for longer than necessary. I mistily welcome the muted rush of excitement his touch gives me and close my eyes, fully trusting him like I only could with my marbles scattered all over the floor.

"Mmm," escapes my lips. I don't know words, but apparently I can make sounds.

"Sit back down, I'll wash your hair," Gortash commands softly.

I sit curled up, my eyes shut, jaw slack, little mewls of pleasure coming out of my mouth. His fingers caress my scalp in circular motions, coaxing some blood back into my skin. It melts away my tension and feels so good against the leftover headache that still throbs in my skull.

Gortash picks up the shower head and rinses the shampoo foam off my hair. It finally hits me that it smells like him. I let out a quiet chuckle. Doesn't he have a special flower scented bottle for his feminine conquests? Maybe he just likes marking them this way.

He helps me stand back up again, dabs me with a towel and then wraps me in a robe.

"Come here, princess," he murmurs and pulls me into his arms.

And he carries me to the bed. I don't think I would protest even if I had the energy. I may be a strong independent woman... but this is nice.

He pushes a tray of food and drink to me and we both eat in silence. I can't force much into my wrecked throat, but I thirstily guzzle all the water and wine. The slight buzz is not helping my overused veins, but it does wonders for my cramped muscles.

Then I lie on my side, watching him freshen up and change. I finally have plenty of time and no capacity for shame; I take in every detail of him I can spot. The toned muscles of his legs. The line of fine dark hair on his chest going to his groin. The way his thick hair softly reflects light when it's crisp clean. The pleasant, earthy color of his skin. Every glance he tosses over to check up on me.

My heart flutters again. I gulp hard and convince my eyes to close, so I can't see any more of him.

Suddenly the mattress beside me sinks and I can feel him next to me. The warmth from his body envelops me, his scent fills my lungs and I find myself looking into his dark eyes. My poor blood pressure spikes again and I try making my gulps for air subtle, but I can see the delighted amusement deepen his crow's feet.

"Sleep," he sighs, studying my face. "You need to rest to get your strength back."

He runs his fingers through my damp hair and kisses my temple. His skin is soft and warm, but his short stubble and rough palms leave a tickling sensation that's driving me wild. I inhale a lungful of him and press my mouth to his jaw, testing the scratchy surface against my lips.

I can hear his breath quicken and feel his hand move to my shoulder and rub the silk of my borrowed robe. I take his face in my hands and bite this time—just a little, letting my teeth graze the stubble, enjoying the sweet scratch—and I hear a moan.

I forget myself. I forget who he is. I just want to keep tasting his skin.

His mouth is on mine. I hungrily welcome him in. His hand roams my body, kneading my flesh—mine frantically search his every surface, unable to decide where to stay. Perhaps I'm just cold from exhaustion, but I feel like he's radiating more heat than an average human being. I bathe in the warmth, pulling myself as close as possible.

The way he pulls air in through his teeth when I bite his lip is like music to my ears. How is this man so edible? He drags his fingertips across my face and I suck his thumb into my mouth. The low rumble of his chuckle travels right to the knot in my lower belly and my eyes roll back.

He presses me flush to his body, molding my flesh, and I let out a feral groan, grabbing fistfuls of his thick hair and pulling. I need him. I need him now.

His mouth moves to my neck, but he doesn't kiss and nibble like I want him to, he takes me by the nape and immobilizes me. I can hear his ragged breath in my ear as I blink in bewilderment.

"Talas," he exhales desperately. "I know your opinion of me has taken a sharp dive... but I don't fuck mentally compromised women."

He lets me pull away and I stare at him in doubt. He snorts, shrugging.

"Alright, I guess sometimes I do," he admits, "but I just know you'll wake up in the morning with your wits intact and hate me for taking advantage of you."

The hum of blood in my ears quiets down as I swallow my disappointment. Tears sting in my eyes; I can't tell why, but I feel robbed. He sighs and pulls me closer again, but only to hug me.

"I've missed you so much," he whispers into my hair. "I don't want to ruin this." Running his fingers through my hair once more, spreading soothing tingling over my skin, he rocks me gently. "Sleep. I promise I'll make it up to you later... if you still want me to."

I can barely hear his last words, but I sense the uncertainty in his tone. The pressure around my chest tightens and I wrap my arms around him and hold on. The pleasurable hormones surrender the stage to the exhaustion in my muscles and bones. I feel myself falling asleep even before my consciousness drifts off.

05 Warm bodies.

The soft light creeping in through my closed eyelids rouses me gently, but I'm so tired everything still feels like a dream. I cling to my drowsiness and try to go back to sleep again.

Then I feel a warm palm on my hip, stroking the silky fabric covering me.

I shift slightly, moving into the touch, and the hand slowly travels across my back. Another joins it, caressing my thigh. I moan quietly, reaching out for a body to hold—

—and I find two. Both are very warm and my hungry touch is ecstatic to feel each pressed to one side of me. I gently squirm between them, rubbing myself against soft muscle that eagerly responds in kind. Their musky scent is both soothingly familiar and enticingly erotic. I can hear two breaths and two sets of soft sighs as I let my palms feel my way across their skin.

I open my eyes and meet Gortash's sleepy eyes watching me. My heart jumps up into my throat and I jolt into a sitting position. I turn to find Halsin on the other side—probably crawled onto the bed when he felt strong enough to move again.

"Shit," I mumble under my breath, quickly removing myself off the satin sheets.

"And it was just getting good," Gortash laments wistfully, a tone of amusement coloring his raspy voice.

"Seriously? Jokes?" I pull my robe tighter around my body, suddenly self-conscious about being completely naked under a thin layer of translucent fabric, and prop my hands against my hips. "Did you even realize you were groping me right next to my partner?"

"As I recall, you were enthusiastically groping me back, sweetheart," he smirks. "A few hours back you didn't mind making out in front of him."

I gape mutely at them both for a second.

"I was out of my mind!"

Halsin groggily drags himself off the bed and holds me close, patting my back comfortingly.

"I'm sorry," I hum into his chest.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, my heart." He kisses the top of my head.

I push away to look at him sternly. "Yes, there is. You've spent your whole night taking care of me at great cost to yourself and the first thing I do when I'm finally okay is this? Not even my mental state is an excuse. I only want to make you feel loved and safe, not uncomfortable and uncertain. I don't deserve you."

Instead of appreciating my commitment, albeit failed, I see pain flash in his eyes.

"Halsin?" I sniffle, my chest filling with dread. "Please don't leave me."

His expression melts into a touched one. He cups my face and smiles softly.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise," he rasps. "Not until you decide otherwise, my love. You have nothing to fear. I will always be by your side, for as long as you'll have me."

I feel tears trickle down my face, the relief mixing into my terror tapping a generous stream.

"Now I'm sorry," he sighs, futilely trying to wipe my tears away with his fingers. "I misunderstood. I thought..."

He didn't have to explain. It didn't even come to mind at first, but I figured it out.

"You thought I would replace you with him?" I chuckle through the turmoil in my chest. "Not in a million years."

"Yes, don't mind me," Gortash growls and removes himself from the bed as well. His face looks like it's carved from stone, cold and hard. We both watch him as he locks himself in the next room, leaving us alone.

"I think you hurt his feelings," Halsin says quietly and I can hear commiseration in his voice. "He really is in love with you, sweet thing."

"Well, I'm not in love with him," I snap. "I don't want to have anything to do with him."

I'm still raw from the suffering Bhaal has inflicted on me, and the realization of just how much my heart has softened towards Gortash puts me on edge. The possibility of hurting Halsin through another bit of my unfortunate past just piles on top of that.

"Far be it from me to push you towards another man," he smirks, mild amusement creeping into his expression. "But I don't want you to limit yourself on my behalf, Nara. I thought you understood that I don't wish to own you." He takes my hands and kisses my knuckles. "If that is what you need, you are free to be with anyone else to any extent you deem necessary for your happiness. I only want you to be safe and happy by my side. That is my only goal."

I close my eyes and let him lean his forehead against mine.

"You know that's my goal too, right?" I mumble.

I can sense he doesn't believe my words—never have. But I haven't figured out why. I really mean it. He's the ray of sunshine in my bleak days. I want him to keep shining at all costs, even if I'm not the one basking in the beams.

"You deserve all the joy you can get, my heart," he whispers. "Do not make me the one to stand in your way. I will always wait for you to come back home to me."

I swallow a new wave of tears. "Then let's go right now."

"No," he sighs. "I will go. You seem to have unfinished business here. When you are ready, find me in camp. I believe you are safe here, at least for as long as you don't try to kill him first," he chuckles.

"I just might," I grouse. "He's playing a dangerous game here. I didn't think he'd be so bold to try to seduce me in front of you. Didn't he notice how big you are? Doesn't he think you'd rip him to pieces if he pisses you off?"

"I think he knows he has a chance." Halsin gives me a slightly patronizing glance, likely getting tired of my refusal to acknowledge my weakness. "Doesn't he?"

"I don't want to have anything to do with him," I repeat, but my voice falters.

He smiles, presses his face to mine and inhales deeply. "I can smell your arousal, little duck," he chastises softly, combing my hair with his fingers.

"That's for you, too," I frown, a little embarrassed, recalling the unexpectedly pleasant first moments of my morning.

"I know," he nods and this time I can tell he's certain. "But you two have history. Unless you explore this road, you might spend the rest of your life wondering 'what if'... I don't want that for you. I don't want that for myself. Whatever you do, I would like you to be sure that you're not missing out on something. I will be here if you decide to come back to me."

I have no more to say. I let him press a kiss to my lips and watch him exit the room. I don't follow. I keep standing where he left me, hugging my shoulders.

"I can't believe you actually stayed."

I whip around to find Gortash in the doorframe, dressed and tidied up, shaved and smelling fresh. He's leaning on the doorframe and though his face is still grim, his swagger doesn't seem to have suffered irreparable damage.

"Don't congratulate yourself just yet, Enver," I sneer.

"Oh, don't be crabby, baby," he purses his lips in mock comfort. "You landed such a perfect boyfriend. I'm jealous, now I want one, too. Hurry up and break his soft heart—maybe he'll be interested in me instead."

"I'm not breaking his heart," I spit. "I love him."

That sentence makes him wince, but he recovers in record time, smirking like the bad boy he is.

"Then maybe I'll break it for you. When he's no longer there to enable you, will you run back into my arms?"

I don't realize I'm moving before I have his stupid tall collar bunched up in a fist, pushing him against the door. I bare my teeth, my nose a hair's-width away from his. My tortured muscles protest against such treatment, but the rush of adrenaline outvotes them.

"Touch him and I'll kill you," I hiss into his face. "Stone or no stone."

The initial flash of surprise, even fear, is quickly replaced with a seductive smile.

"Gods, I missed this fire," he grunts, grabbing my waist and pulling me flush to his body. "Too bad your devotion belongs to another now."

I tear from his grasp, gritting my teeth so hard they squeak. I don't know what else to do; hurting him only gave him twisted pleasure. So I stomp off to the bathroom, looking for my things, so I can leave this cursed place already.

06 Payback is a bitch.

I dress up in my clothes that feel like they've been freshly cleaned and pressed, and complete my morning routine with the conveniently offered supplies left in the bathroom for me. As I put on my gauntlet I have to stop and lean against the sink. My thoughts are spiraling.

Remembering all that I've done since I arrived at this tower is making me hyperventilate. Gods, I really did nearly jump Gortash's bones. My reason was clearly damaged, but... Gathering my wits didn't erase the desire. I still want him. I hate everything he stands for... but I can barely resist him.

I stare into my scarred face in the mirror, hoping to understand my own mind. Even if I really used to love him in the past doesn't mean I should now. It physically hurts me to imagine Karlach's probable response to that. And Wyll's. And everyone's, really. Apart from some of my companions who would prefer to take control of the Brain, or even to actually team up with the Tyrant's Chosen, none would approve.

"Oh, fuck me," I mumble.

I close my eyes for a few long seconds, trying to get a hold of myself. It doesn't help; my mind is serving me memories of Gortash's gentle, respectful touch, in blinding contrast to what I thought I knew about him. How does that happen? Was he just that good at playing me? Or was it genuine?

Poor Halsin. Perhaps the thing that scares me most is his disapproval. Would he stay by my side if I succumbed to my twisted desires? Would he be open to sharing me with a man who doesn't care who he abuses as long as it serves his power-hungry agenda? Even he must have a limit to what he's willing to tolerate.

I slam my hand against the mirror and growl. I feel like I'm being split in two. One part will not let go of the beautiful, peaceful vision of what life can be with Halsin. The other... the darkness in me, one that has nothing to do with the Urge, craves to be nourished, to be recognized and utilized, to be accepted.

Can I have both? Or is that just a mad hope of a lobotomized freak?

I need to get out of here, now.

I rush out of the room, then into the Audience hall. I'm hoping it's deserted and no one will notice me leaving, but Gortash is once again comfortably seated on the throne, his alert eyes on me the second I come into his field of vision. I slump my shoulders and frown, turning to him.

"Hey, look," I choose a neutral tone, nonchalantly hooking thumbs in my pockets, "I gotta go. We have lots to do in the city. There's a vamp that begs to be staked, a pregnant hag on the loose, and also Orin's not gonna kill herself."

"Ah, yes," Gortash drawls, getting up and slowly sauntering towards me. "You're very busy. The slayer of Ketheric Thorm. The hero who's lifted the Shadow Curse. Pretty impressive."

I purse my lips, glaring at him. Of course he figured out it was us who exchanged his planned article in Baldur's Mouth for a puff piece on us.

"Yeah, it would be a shame if we were slandered instead of celebrated, don't you think?" I nip sarcastically.

"Why do you think I made you come here, my dear," he tosses me a sour grin. "You get in my way, I get in yours. You'd do best to remember that."

I roll my eyes, folding my arms over my chest. I actually considered thanking him for what he'd done for me tonight, but I'm not in the mood to do that anymore.

"Yeah, yeah. If you're done threatening me, mind letting me go? Like I said, lots to do. You want the netherstone, or not?"

Gortash stops maybe an inch from me and leans in to whisper in my ear: "You're not a prisoner here, sweetheart."

A powerful shiver runs through me, so strong I can't possibly hide it. His gaze slides down my body and lips twist in a delighted, sinful smirk. My breath hitches at the sight of him and his scent makes my throat go dry.

He pulls back to a little more respectful distance. "But I thought you might want to have that brunch on the balcony I planned for us yesterday. Don't worry," he chuckles, "I had my cook make us fresh food—birds seem to have eaten the last batch, anyway." His gaze lingers on my eyes, gauging my thoughts. "It's sunny outside. I want to sit with you, talk and enjoy the view from this tower."

Still reeling from the mind boggling reaction I'm having to his closeness, I swallow hard. 'What's the worst that can happen' isn't even a question here. I know what can happen. I know what my body, my own treacherous body, wants to happen. But maybe... just maybe... if I spend more casual time in his presence, this assault of hormones will stop.

After all, there's nothing more off-putting than really getting to know the horrible man you're attracted to. Could be just what I need to get over him.

07 What's the worst that can happen?

I let him lead me onto the balcony. Any thoughts get knocked out of me as soon as I lean over the stone wall and stare at the city stretching below us.

I've only spent two weeks here since we arrived, and from up-close it never quite seemed as grand as people tend to describe it. It's big and loud and overcrowded and smelly... But it seems gorgeous from this high above. No wonder Gortash wants to settle up here permanently.

I don't appreciate the thick atmosphere of this place. I miss the clean waters and animal white noise of the picturesque location the nautiloid crashed in. Even the Underdark is breathtaking in its menacing way.

This doesn't feel like home anymore. It's familiar, but I'm a different person.

Much like what I could say about Gortash. The fact that we used to be a thing shouldn't mean that we have to be it again.

I have so many questions it feels like a chunk of anxiety is balled up inside me—I don't even know what to ask specifically, I just know I need a lot of answers. I want to understand what happened between us and how. And how can a man so callous, so cruel to everything else be so gentle and sweet with me.

I have to know what game he's playing. Is he hoping to weaken me? Stab me in the back as soon as I kill Orin and take both the netherstones off my cooling flesh? Was any of what he showed me real?

"Heavy thoughts, Talas?"

I sigh and turn away from the view to see him comfortably sprawled on an actual rug stretched over the stone floor.

"Couldn't get a blankie?" I quip, shaking my head. "Your ass get too soft?"

"Well, since I don't have to live rough anymore, I just don't do it," he chuckles, tapping a spot next to him. "Come have some comfort, too. I imagine you're not used to it anymore, being on the road for so long."

"I think I pretty much forgot what comfort felt like when that Myrkulite bitch of a torturer got a hold of me," I say dryly as I make my way to the picnic. I immediately see the change in his expression and his fists clenching.

I sit down and stretch my legs in front of me. "Do all your Absolute lackeys respect you this much, or was she special?"

"That's still under investigation," he growls darkly. An image of his most loyal soldiers beating information out of the slightly less loyal soldiers crosses my mind. "The nerve on her. The nerve on Ketheric. He should've told me."

"I guess plotting to take over the world doesn't make for the best bonding time," I smirk, picking up a chalice of wine.

"True," he nods, deciding to wash his rage down with some wine as well. "This is not a circle of trust. I even had to kill a number of my own for being too ambitious. Mostly when they tried to assassinate me to take my place. Or get to me through you."

"Hm," I grimace, not ready to believe I was so important to him that he wouldn't sacrifice me in a blink of an eye if it brought him enough reward. "How do you know I won't kill you? Bhaal sounded pretty determined. He'll try again. You might not get so lucky this time."

"He won't. Not until you get rid of Orin."

I raise my eyebrows at him and toss a few grapes in my mouth. "How would you know?"

Gortash pauses, looking away, squinting at the sky.

"Last night I told her what was happening, got her properly pissed off. I promised you would come to her, which is what you want, anyway. She went to talk to him, to convince him she's capable of defeating you. I hoped she had the pull—and it looks like she does, because it worked. Bhaal wants you to ritually combat her at the Temple just a smidge more than he wants me dead—and can always make either of you do it later."

He says it in such a matter-of-fact tone as if he didn't just confess to virtually saving my life. I gape at him mutely, wine forgotten half-way to my lips.

"Well," I chuckle in disbelief, "I'm stunned that you didn't brag about it immediately."

"I knew you would see it as bragging, no matter when I told you," he rolls his eyes, chugging his wine. "So I wasn't going to. Until you asked."

I shrug and nod, admitting that's true. I'm always ready to believe the worst of him. Just in case.

"But you should know." He turns to me, face serious, gaze intense. He takes my hand and squeezes. "When Orin is dead, he will sic you on me. It won't matter what you feel or what your agenda is. This time he'll have no reason to relent, he will have one of us dead."

He sighs and tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear with the same tenderness I tasted last night. His eyes are warm and gentle.

"If nothing else works... I will let you kill me," he whispers and my breath catches in my throat. "Which is why I suggest you keep your word and we finish our plan together. If we're successful, we might have enough power to keep him away from us."

I watch his hair flow in the breeze around his face. He lets go of my hands and looks to the sky again, as if the endlessness of it helped him feel like he has more options, more freedom.

"So, at the least, we have until you kill her."

His voice is so heavy, raspy, wistful, I shiver again. He doesn't even suggest that we actually stay together or anything... he's just contemplating the near future, counting down days until he might not see me again. Or live.

"You would just let me kill you?" I ask, suddenly reminded of Halsin's similar question from last night. Gortash brushed it off then and I was too busy trying to survive, but it hits differently now.

I see his throat jump as he gulps. He seems to mull over his answer. Then squeezes his eyes shut.

"I began hatching the Absolute plan for my sake only. I wanted power and control. But then you came..." He flashes me a glance, almost shy. "And things changed. So slowly I didn't even notice at first. But I started to work towards a different goal. I wanted to make this work for us. Make the world the perfect place for us to be happy in. To do whatever we want, to have all the comforts, all the fun."

He pauses for a long time. I'm wracking my brain to try to remember something, anything, so that I could confirm his words, but the memory of him is still as incorporeal as before.

Before I figure out how to react, he speaks up again:

"I didn't know how differently it could end," he rasps and I'm in shock to notice his eyes getting somewhat wet. "How someone could hate me, hate you, so much that they would tear us apart and destroy everything." This time he looks at me steadily, though I can see how much effort it takes him to not let his sight run away again. "I love you, Talas. We were having so much fun I hadn't realized it... until I lost you."

I rapidly blink in utter bewilderment. My heart squeezes hard. I feel tears fighting their way out of my eyes. I can taste bitterness in the back of my throat. As if the only thing I could remember about our past is how heartbreaking it was to be separated from him like this.

And I realize that I believe him. It makes sense. Bhaal's ultimatum revealed one thing: this murder was personal to him. I really must have been in love with Gortash before my disappearance. Enough to make the Lord of Murder feel threatened and want our bond broken.

And I'm beginning to see why—to see past my initial impression of him, past his flaws and sins. It makes me scared. What happens if I give in to it, even if just for a little while?

But just how much time to decide do I really have?

08 Innocence of a guilty man.

Turns out, I don't need much time at all.

Gortash's confession was so raw it's impossible for me to stop thinking about it. He's quiet as we eat our breakfast, and so am I, but my head is buzzing. The alcohol doesn't help hold my walls up, but I don't think being sober would save me now.

'We only have until you kill Orin.'

That could be mere days. We've only just arrived, but already met her more than once—sniffing around, gauging our weaknesses, snickering maniacally and giving us the creeps. If we don't strike first, she will. Not to mention the ticking clock that was the tadpole wriggling in my head, threatening to turn me into a tentacled monster the second the Brain breaks free of Gortash's and Orin's control. We are all screwed if we don't find her soon.

My mind ambushes me with slightly fuzzy memories of last night. The way Gortash washed me, the way he carried me to the bed like royalty, the way he cared. I don't have to run away and marry him in secret to enjoy him. I don't have to make any promises at all.

I can just have him one last time. Whatever happens next.

"Well," I peep, nervous about what I'm going to do, "since we're full, alone and have the time... maybe we can... uhm."

Gods, I'm awful at flirting. I'm so lucky Halsin decided to approach me first. We would still be hungrily circling each other if he hasn't.

To my utter dismay and embarrassment, Gortash laughs out loud. "You haven't improved one bit," he shakes his head.

"Shut up," I grunt, trying to hide in my hair.

He props himself on one elbow, reaching for my jaw, caressing me and pulling me down to him for a kiss.

"Your best line so far was 'I would love to carve you up real slow,'" he smirks, coaxing me to look up. "Fortunately, that worked like a charm on me."

My brow crinkles and I burst into vivacious laughter. It makes me feel better, more at ease. I guess I didn't change that much.

"Gods, it's been forever since the last time I heard that laughter," Gortash sighs, stricken.

He attacks my mouth voraciously, making me gasp into the kiss.

It's different than before. It's not libido that drives him this time. There's pain behind the layers of need. Pain of long separation, of deep grief, of lost hope, of impending death. He's virtually inhaling me, as if he would love nothing more than to blend into me.

I feel dizzy and compelled to return the kiss with the same intensity, even though I'm running out of breath. I don't want to hold back anymore. What good would it do me to fight my feelings when this is the last time I get to have him.

His skin is much smoother after the morning shave, but I can still feel the faint remnants of stubble gently scratching me. I run my fingers all over his face, trying to imprint every shape of him into my damaged brain. I come across the scar on his chin and the sensation feels more familiar than ever. I know I've touched this scar before.

His hand copies my movements, tracing my scars. They must be new to him; Orin left them on me when she tried to kill me. He remembers my face when it was still flawless, yet his fingers are feeling my new imperfections with reverence.

"Bleed that bitch slowly," he rasps against my skin. "Savor the kill. You deserve a sweet revenge for this."

"I wish I could do the same to Bhaal," I reply breathily.

"So do I, my love. So do I." He pulls away a little, skin flushed, eyes misty. "Let's go inside. It's chilly here, you might catch a cold."

I squeeze my eyes shut, half wanting to laugh, half crying. I feel him get onto his feet and the next thing I know I'm in his arms, carried like a princess once more. I hug his shoulders and hide in his neck, nibbling hungrily, making his breath catch as he's walking towards his study, gait a bit wobbly.

My legs are weak too—I nearly buckle as he puts me down by the bed. I steady myself holding onto him, while he's doing his best to keep my armor and clothes intact as he's pulling them off my body in ragged, desperate moves.

He pauses with his hands hovering over my offered gauntlet.

"What?" I wonder. "Think you won't be able to enjoy it without me hurting you?"

He tilts his head, squinting in the distance. "I don't think we've ever tried that."

"Just take it off," I say and put his fingers on my wrist. "If it's not enough, I can always use my nails."

"To be honest," he raises his eyebrows pensively, "I don't think I even care. I just want to be with you."

He shakes the metal off my hand and tosses it to the floor. Then his eyes find his own, with the glowing netherstone adorning it.

"I promise I won't steal it," I chuckle. "At least not until I have Orin's."

He doesn't seem to appreciate my teasing. He takes the gauntlet off, but quickly puts it in a small, sturdy looking metal box and locks it inside.

I roll my eyes. "Still don't trust me, Enver? Did I use to fuck people just to get their precious stuff and favors? I thought that was more your style."

"Just a precaution against whomever else might be sneaking through the tower," Gortash smirks and returns to me. "You weren't even interested in fucking until you met me," he touches my face. "Granted, you didn't have many eligible choices around you, with your father keeping you in dark tombs among abominations. But I taught you everything, little lover."

My breath hitches a little at the realization, but I gulp the shock down.

"Well, then I guess I'm glad you've been sleeping around with so many of your noble conquests. Would hate to be taught by someone inexperienced."

He laughs with his eyes shut, then sighs and pulls me into his embrace.

"Oh, Talas, don't be jealous. There's no need to drag nobles into my bed anymore. I did try to drown my grief in a few... but it never helped. You were my first in months."

I blink at him, stunned by his words yet again. "Explains why you looked like you hadn't bathed in weeks at your inauguration." I swallow hard, distressingly aware of his enticing scent now.

"I've let myself go a little, yeah," he admits with an amused grin. "My company didn't mind. I thought Ketheric smelled like death, but then I met Orin." I snort and he joins me. "That faint stench of rotting flesh makes me want to gag. You, though..."

He buries his nose in the crook of my neck, pulling off his clothes. "You." He inhales a lungful of me, groaning. I shiver, closing my eyes, running my fingers through his hair. "The sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

I yelp as he suddenly picks me up and lets us both collapse onto the bed. Our limbs tangle, skin grazing skin, our mouths lock in a thirsty dance of tongues. It's a strange feeling, like being with him for the first time, even though it's far from it. I'm not fighting him, not resisting unwelcome desires, not trying to pretend this isn't what I want... I give myself to him willingly and eagerly.

09 Your fingerprints all over me.

He pulls us higher and flips us over, so he could lean on the head of the frame with me on top. The unexpected exposure makes me flinch. I'm still getting used to showing all of myself even to Halsin, and this... I haven't had time to decide how to feel about it. But the way he watches me makes me shudder. His gaze worships every inch of me, his fingers following closely after. So I lean into his touch and close my eyes, letting my mind rest in the soft waves of pleasure.

"How are you even more breathtaking than before," Gortash whispers so quietly I'm not sure he even meant to be heard.

I look down at him, using the rapidly depleting brain capacity to study his face some more. I didn't think he was capable of such adoration. I'm trying to hold onto my healthy doubts for the sake of everyone who's put their trust in me, but it's getting truly difficult.

So I choose to focus on the rest of him instead. On how he makes me feel.

I let my hands wander over his body, enjoying the inexplicable electric sensation of touching his deliciously mocha skin. Making him shiver as I run through the fine hair on his chest he so likes to show off. His muscles are defined just the right amount, well hydrated and comfortably soft. The little love handle on his tummy makes my mouth water and my hips grind against him wantonly.

He groans and grabs me by the nape to pull me into a ravaging kiss. I lift off his lap just enough to help him slip inside me. I cry out softly, unable to hold back the sweet tears of ecstasy.

My needy mouth devours him. He holds my hip in a firm grip to help me ride him. The fingers of his free hand dig into my back, desperately pressing me to his chest, but the hurt they cause isn't physical. I don't want to look into his eyes, I know they will bewitch me.

But I fail and let his gaze swallow my soul.

I can't focus on kissing him anymore. I just lay my forehead on his shoulder and keep rolling my hips. I feel the crushing orgasm closing in when he rakes my hair and starts murmuring in my ear:

"I love you, Talas. I love you."

I let out a sob as it hits me like a wall. I'm not screaming or moaning—I'm crying. My heart is breaking, my soul is splitting... Yet, in the midst of my torment, there's mind boggling ecstasy shooting through my body like lightning.

He caresses my back, letting me ride out the last of the tremors, while I latch onto his mouth again, mixing his intoxicating taste with the salt of my tears. He doesn't seem bothered, drinking my inexplicable sorrow eagerly, thirstily.

I collapse onto his warm chest and keep softly sobbing into his flesh.

I remember now.

"Are you alright?"

I don't respond for a long while. I just keep slowly rolling my hips, not letting him stop making love to me. He listens to my intentional body language, running his fingers gently all over my skin, and lets me deal with it in peace before I'm ready to speak up.

"I love you too, Enver."

The leftover reason in my brain gags its mouth in horror. But I know that it's true. It's been true the whole time, I just didn't know, being stripped of all my memories of him.

The memories didn't return per se. Only feelings. I was a drooling mess, and still my heart yearned for something I lost. Someone I lost. I doubt I could even recall his name or his face... but I knew I needed him.

"Please," I sniffle, finally dragging myself up to look at him. "Make me forget how I know this. It hurts."

That strange sucking feeling in the center of my chest suddenly makes sense now. I've had it since the crash. My head was empty, but my heart ached for him.

"Talas," he whispers, cradling my head. I watch his eyes well up like mine.

I kiss him, letting him tangle his fingers in my hair. He presses my face closer to his and drowns in my mouth. When we're out of breath, he leaves my lips to travel up to my cheeks and eyes, kissing away every tear.

He wraps me in his arms and smoothly rolls us over, pressing my back into the red satin sheets. He holds my hands above my head and I expect him to get rough—I wouldn't mind having this gnawing emotional anguish knocked out of me with a delicious pounding I know he's keen to inflict.

But his fingers lace with mine and his eyes watch me with tenderness I didn't think he was capable of. He's not done fighting for me.

And I'm not done being loved by him.

I hold his gaze, studying the specs of color in his irises. I let out soft moans as he languidly moves inside me and kisses my mouth without breaking eye contact. And when my body begins buzzing, building up to another mind-shattering climax, I whisper his name. The first one slips from my lips accidentally, but as my mind clouds I get bolder. When my body spasms and my toes curl, I scream it over and over in between waves of ecstasy.

His gaze never wavers—up until his own finish catches him unprepared, drawing a surprised, tender whimper out of him. His body quivers, uncontrollably shooting hot seed inside of me as he holds me close, encasing me in his arms like something fragile and precious, moaning my name into my ear.

Mind blank, I just lay, limbs wrapped around him, not willing to let go. We stay like this, gently caressing each other, panting, cooling off. It's not until we start getting uncomfortable that we're finally forced to let go.

"How would you feel about having a bath together again?" Gortash suggests, his roguish smirk gracing his lips once more.

I'm all sweaty and sticky and full of his load, so I nod.

I don't want to leave just yet. Going back into the real world means being faced with responsibilities and morality. It means remembering what a menace this man is to the city. It means considering losing him forever if he decides to stand in our way. I'm not ready for that. Not after I had an emotional charge the size of an extinction-level catastrophic event go off in my chest just minutes ago.

10 One last chance.

Gortash fills the tub with hot water and takes me by the hand. But it seems like I'm not quite ready for this, either.

Come on. It's just a bathtub. The only place that's actually filled with horrors is your own head.

And I recall all the tenderness and care that happened around it, as well. Two diametrically different men doting on me, sacrificing their strength and favors for me. The thought further eats away at the walls of my poor heart.

"Need some help?" Gortash glances at me, evidently understanding my hesitation. His arm snakes around my waist and he kisses my temple. "Come on. I'll be in there with you. Promise not to tie you up this time—unless you want me to," he chuckles into my hair.

I snort and relax a little. There was really nothing to be afraid of; Bhaal was taken care of for now, there was no reason for my Urge to come out this soon. But my legs won't work.

"Yeah, I do need help," I sigh, draping myself over his shoulders.

He tosses me a wicked grin and picks me up. "You're getting used to this fast."

"It's a nice thing to get used to," I shrug innocently.

"You know you got heavy?"

"Maybe you got out of shape," I narrow my eyes at him, then we both laugh.

I almost don't notice how he submerges both of us in the pleasantly hot water. My heart thrums in my throat for a bit, but then Gortash starts rubbing my neck and shoulders, massaging the tension out of them. I let him do it for a while, then close my eyes and lay my head in the crook of his neck.

"Thanks for saving my life last night," I mumble and I really mean it. "I was ready to beg Halsin to mercifully end me. Wait, no, I did actually beg."

I feel his palm run along the side of my face, then his fingers combing my hair back in soothing motions. "It's the least I could do after putting you in danger. I'm so sorry, Talas."

"It wasn't your fault," I sigh. I know what he means, but... when two people fall in love, neither of them should be held responsible for the disproportional reaction of their relatives.

"I still can't believe how close you were this whole time," he rasps and I his hands ball into fists. "Bloody Ketheric. What a low, petty revenge for making him feel uncomfortable and redundant during our Absolute meetings."

I snort. "How were we getting on his nerves so much?"

I feel his chuckle reverberate into me through my back. "You used to like sitting on my lap and making out while he was speaking. And whenever you spaced out during discussions, or simply didn't have an opinion, you would always back me up, not even listening to his arguments."

"Oh," I grimace. "We were very dismissive of him. I'm not surprised he felt affronted."

"Oh, Talas." I hear exasperation in his voice. "He kept you in his dungeon as a toy for his deranged 'scientist' and let me believe you were dead. He deserved to get his tongue ripped out and be beaten to death with it. Would you really just forgive him?"

"I'm kidding," I turn to him, eyes still closed, and plant a kiss on his chin. "I hate his fucking guts. I'm just sad I wasn't able to make his death proper fun."

"There she is, my Bhaal-babe."

"We've met all of his children," I growl. "All cursed and deranged, almost begging to be put out of their misery. The man couldn't give two fucks about any of them, beside precious Isobel he raised from the dead in exchange for their lives, with thousands of innocent souls on top. He didn't deserve redemption and he knew it."

There's a long pause and I can feel Gortash tensing up.

"Do I?"

That knocks the breath out of my lungs. My eyes open wide, but I only stare into the distance.

Why would he even ask that? He didn't seem remorseful of his many, many sins. He looked straight in Karlach's face and looked pleased with himself. He tadpoled Wyll's father and shipped him who-knows-where the minute he got him to surrender his title. He subjugated a whole city and prepared to wage a fake war on it, just so he could pronounce himself its savior.

And those were only the deeds we knew about so far.

"Do you think you deserve it?" I deflect the question back at him, unsure how to respond. Suddenly I'm aware of how naked and defenseless I am in his presence again.

"Shh," he rubs my arms, noticing my discomfort. "I didn't mean to make you bristle up. In the end, Ketheric was left with no one who supported him out of their own free will. I know how depressing that is—I was in the same position before you returned. There's a big difference between doing things because you know you're alone against the world, and doing things for someone you love."

I scoff. "Well, if that's how you operate, how about you give me the stone and help me clean up this mess? Because that's the only way this," I gesture between him and myself, "is going anywhere. You know that what we just did doesn't really change anything between us, right?"

I can see the hurt in his eyes—but no surprise. He knows. He's just probing for another option. Or trying to manipulate me. Whichever.

He decides to abandon the topic. "We've never done it like this before," he studies my face. "You changed so much."

"Enver," I sigh, feeling almost bad for him. "How do you still want me back, when I'm not even the woman you remember?"

Silence. He evades my gaze, watching the sunlight behind the tall stained glass windows. He doesn't seem to understand it himself.

"I guess you've given my life more meaning than anything I've ever done before."

My heart and eyelids flutter, touched more deeply than I was willing to admit.

I know what that feels like. I could've let my Urge dictate my path, succumb to the thirst for blood and death, do what I knew to do best. Instead, I've found myself in people around me, people of varying degrees of 'good' who sometimes struggle as much as I do.

I've found purpose in keeping them alive. In helping them denounce their gods, avenge their traumas, fix their mistakes, save what's important to them. In loving them as much as they've grown to love me. They healed me in ways medicine and magic could never have done on their own.

They saved me, and now I would rather choose death than let a bloodthirsty god take control over my life again.

Perhaps Gortash would do the same...?

I don't dare to guess. Not until I see the change with my own eyes, in action, when I present the choice to him with Orin's netherstone in hand.

Because I've just decided that I will do just that. Despite everything he's done, everything that deserved grave, and likely final, punishment, I will allow him one last chance to do better.

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