#lia really said 'nemo did nothing wrong' and cal cheered

[maegalkarven]

Choosing the frame.

After the dust settles and the wounds close, everyone contemplates what they can and should do now.

The Elder Brain proves to be a formidable foe, but not all is lost.

Or is it?

Set between Empty Prayers and Interlude. (I swear I'm better at chronological order on AO3)

The Dark Urge x Enver Gortash.

Characters: Dark Urge (Nemo), Enver Gortash, Isobel Thorm, Dame Aylin, Wyll Ravengard, Ulder Ravengard, Karlach, Gale, Astarion, Jaheira, Halsin.

POV Gale.

They’re the pitiful bunch survived in the latest attack of prior unknown enemy; harpers, refugees, flaming fists and several cultists who surrendered the moment they saw the Elder Brain.

And what a sight it was, a gigantic monstrosity of the flesh floating in the air, commanding the army of tadpoled marionettes to march on Baldur’s Gate.

And they did that, Nemo and Gortash. It was their plan what went astray.

Gale contemplates if there is any future for them yet, or this is it.

The end.

The drastic failure.

He would still have his backup plan to use the orb as a weapon of mass destruction to deal with the brain, if not for the knowledge newly aligned with them tyrant brought.

What it would save no one. What it would simply turn every illithid-infested person into a mindflayer.

Mystra didn’t care for the fate of all these people; she never cared for the safety of the Sword Cost.

All she ever cared for was the threat the Crown of Karsus posed to her.

And if this isn’t a waking up call.

Gale feels...

He isn’t sure how he feels. Devastated, probably? It’s not every day you find out your goddess and former lover is not what you imagined her to be.

It’s not every day you get disappointed in your god.

And to think he was ready to...

Unbelievable.

But again, all things considered, maybe he is where he is supposed to be; in a circle of kindred spirits and minds. Most of them have some inner or outer struggle going on with one deity or another, even the newcomer.

Especially the newcomer.

It’s not every day one meets a fellow Chosen, and not every day he finds out one of his closest companions is one as well. Or was. They all are falling from grace, aren’t they?

The fact what Nemo and Gortash are involved is not as surprising to Gale as one might have expected it to be; Gale is not a stranger to inner turmoil and deep longing what separation from a lover can bring.

He expected Nemo to have a tragic backstory akin to his - minus the goddess part – but what he didn’t expect was how utterly mutual this romantic obsession of his was. At least that’s the picture he drew for himself after hearing of what have passed in the illithid colony.

And even now Nemo and Gortash are the last to emerge to the small crowded room where Duke Ravengard is holding a counsel.

They look rattled, two disgraced chosen of evil gods, and they also stick close to each other, as if the entire world is their enemy.

It stings a little, Gale would hope Nemo to know he can always lean on him, especially after all support Nemo gave him. The unconditional, nonjudgmental way Nemo has been treating him and his condition got to his heart, as well as Nemo’s begrudgingly good deeds.

And now, once Gale knows the truth about Nemo’s upbringing, he is even more amazed of his friend’s defiance, of his proud and unyielding stance. To defy one’s god, to defy one’s creator...It is not a small deed.

“We need to decide our further actions,” Duke speaks. He has noticed the latest addition to the counsel and, from the slight frown on his face, does not look happy about it. But Wyll, who sticks close to his father, smiles to Nemo and gestures for him to come closer.

Nemo smiles back, warmer than many would expect, definitely warmer than Gortash would expect, if the flash of surprise over his features is of any indication.

“And why are you the one to speak?” the voice rings out from the crowd. Gale knows it’s one of the tieflings before he turns; the girl Nemo saved from the towers, Rolan’s sister. Lia stands tall and proud and refuses to lower her gaze. “You didn’t do anything to stop it from happening, did you?”

Wyll whips his head, ready to respond, but his father ushers him to stay quiet.

“That is true,” he agrees. “And I am in no ways diminish the heroic deeds of the ones who stood against the evil, even if they have failed to defeat it just yet.”

“Well, if so, when let them speak,” Lia insists. “Here they are! Nemo-“

“Oh, sure,” one of the fists argues back. “Let speak the one who started this all mess, that’s a great idea. He is not a hero of this story, but a villain. Another spawn of an evil god-“

“Don’t remember you saving our lives, dipshit,” Cal chimes in. “I do, however, remember you whimpering like a little baby at the first sight of the shadows.”

“Enough,” the duke’s voice rises to the commanding tone and, miraculously, they do quiet somewhat. “Why don’t we let the man speak for himself? A hero or not, it is yet to be decided, but his assistance will be irreplaceable in the battle to come.”

“What battle?” one of the harpers argues. “Where will be no battle, this will be a slaughter-“

“Do not lose hope,” Isobel tries. “The situation is looking grim, but I’m sure together we will find a way-“

“Not really taking advice from a daughter of Ketheric Thorm,” one of the Flaming Fists spits. “When were you going to tell us all of this is because of you, eh, Isobel?”

Nightsong steps forward.

“One more word out of your mouth and I will rip that tongue out-“

“How about we all take a deep breath?” Wyll, a poor soul dedicated to diplomacy, tries. “Listen to the ideas the few of us have and not spend time in endless squabbles? We all are upset, scared, shaken by that has happened, but blaming each other is not a way to fix it. And we need to start fixing it right now, before it’s too late.”

“Listen to Wyll Ravengard,” Nemo finally manages to get to the small stage in the middle of the room and, with Wyll’s help, climbs it. “And also listen to me, for I am one of the very few people who knows what we’re dealing with. It is true what I am a child of Bhaal,” he meets the gaze of the fist who called him out before and the man lowers his gaze first. “My involvement in the plot what lead us to where we are now is also true. But,” he raises a hand to stop several people from speaking at once.

“I am not here to apologize. Yes, you heard me; no apologies will be said today, for none of you know what it is like to have a father, a god, such as mine. None of you are in the position to judge me. And if, per chance, you decide to judge me, where will it lead you? Nowhere, I say, for you need me to survive this mess. You need me and you need my close ally Lord Enver Gortash,” several heads turn and said man tips his head slightly and proceeds to the stage. Gale hears Karlach curse under her breath.

“It is true what him and I created this plot, under the command of cruel gods you know as The Dead Three,” Gortash, on his part, has no trouble climbing the stage with no help needed. “Ketheric was the Chosen of one of these gods: Myrkul, Lord of Bones.”

“It was with Myrkul’s power,” Gortash smoothly joins, hand coming to rest on the side of Nemo’s back naturally. Gale hears Astarion huff and turns just in time to see the man roll his eyes.

Interesting.

“What the beloved Isobel Thorm was returned back to us,” the lord smiles and alright, he is not without the charm of his own. Wyll looks mildly annoyed by his interference, but since it was Nemo who quite literally asked the man to join, does not argue against it.

“Ketheric Thorm was a man who sold his soul more than once, first to Shar, and then to his last master. And all,” a dramatic gesture. “In the name of love.”

“I didn’t ask for that,” Isobel tries, even thought everyone knows she doesn’t need to defend herself. Yet some part of her seems to believe she has to, for in some awful, twisted way the cursed lands around them is her fault.

“It is not your fault your father’s grief changed him so,” Aylin tries, but even Gale sees her words give little comfort.

“Let’s not condemn the children for the sins of their fathers, shall we?” Nemo chimes in. “No one is blaming Isobel, we all know she was the one who singlehandedly kept the Last Light protected from the Shadow Curse.”

“That’s true! She saved us from the fate worse than death!”

“She defied her father!”

Isobel smiles weakly, grateful. Nemo smiles back.

“And now,” he looks around; making sure everyone is paying attention. “Ketheric Thorm is dead. And the age of the shadows is over,” a loud cheer goes through the room like a wave. Gale catches Lord Gortash smile like a cat that just got the cream.

“We have defeated the Curse,” Nemo continues. “Our friend Halsin ventured into the lands so dark and lifeless very few get to tell a tale about them, and returned victorious. Because of him, because of everything he did, everything every single one of you, Flaming Fists, Harpers, the brave souls who dared to walk into the deepest depths of Shar’s temple did – we have defeated the curse.”

Aylin beams.

“Do not let the looks deceive you,” she booms. “Do not let the cursed bloodline running in my friend’s blood discourage you. For when I gaze at him I see an ally. I see a man who looked into the face of the abyss and refused to succumb. I see a man who brought the light into the darkest corners of the darkest of places. I see a man whose cruel father put him against his own sister, and I see a man who was worthy of the sacrifice,” a sharp piercing look into Gortash’s direction. “Unknown to many. You look upon those men, those former chosen of gods, and see villains. I gaze at them and see hope. I see conviction what no matter how dire things might look, there’s still a way out. For if the worst of us are capable of selfless deeds, when what are the best of us are capable of?”

“Did she just call me ‘the worst of us’,” Gale can imagine this is what Gortash murmurs into Nemo’s ear. Nemo smirks.

“She might have meant Ketheric, you’ll never know,” might as well be his smug reply.

“I’m pretty sure she meant me.”

“Relax, a daughter of a goddess just praised your deeds.”

“I can see why Ketheric hated her so much.”

“Well, Ketheric’s opinion notwithstanding, we really need her support. You’re lucky she likes me.”

“I can’t see why.”

“I will tell you what we’re capable of,” Aylin continues, oblivious to the conspicuous whispering the two men are having. “Anything. Together we can do anything we put our mind into, defeat any evil. The Elder Brain is powerful. It is an enemy we have never fought before. But it, as any other enemy, can be defeated.”

“Indeed it can,” Lord Gortash raises his voice once again. “First step to defying the enemy is knowing the enemy, and this is where I come into the view. Some of you know me, many of you distrust or even hate me, but I assure you this will come to pass quite soon. For you will have no better ally and no more knowledgeable advisor than me, unless, of course, you count mindflayers, and they’re of uncooperative kind. Luckily for you, I,” a generous and quite dramatic gesture. “Am willing to help.”

“I know the Elder Brain and know how it operates, and trust me when I say you’ll need all the allies you can get if you even hope of winning this battle. An Elder Brain is supremely powerful organic calculator, a mental machine able to process a vast number of simultaneous thought processes. It is always a hundred moves ahead, and cannot be surprised except by a sudden confluence of unexpected variables,” he smiles, observing the silence what has fallen over the room.

“But luckily for us, we are those variables. We are the most unlikely of people to work together, the least possible allies, and this is why it might just work. The Elder Brain is the entity beyond mortal comprehension, but it doesn’t mean it cannot be subsided. It has been done once already, in a calculated plan to overpower it. And it did work, if for a while.

The reasons for why it worked and why it fell apart are irrelevant now, but I assure you all we need is ourselves and the minds we bear. The Elder Brain has no weakness but the unexpected, and it means we need to be just that – unexpected, unpredictable, completely out of any line and form of rationalization. And what is more unexpected than yesterday’s masterminds turned today’s saviors? What is more unexpected than all of us, working together towards one common goal?

What goal, you may ask me. Survival. Such a simple word, isn’t it? And yet it drives us all, this deep-rooted need to overcome what comes our way. To live, to see the other day. I don’t know about you, but I am not yet ready to die. I expect to have a long and fulfilling life. And what about you?”

He looks from face to face, as if capturing them in his mind, cataloguing and putting into categories.

A clever man indeed, Gale has to admit, and good with words. Probably good with his tongue too, if Nemo’s blind loyalty to him is of any indication.

“Do you want to die? Are you ready to lay down your weapons and simply give up? I find it hard to believe. No, you,” he gestures at the harpers. “Who fought the losing battle against the undying enemy? Or you,” another one, this time at the fists. “Who fought to protect the innocents despite all odds being against you? Or even you,” now at the group a part of which Gale himself is. “A bunch of damned and unlucky, happened to be at the wrong time at the wrong place. Tadpoled, frightened, hunted for life, but fighting on. Are you willing to die? Or are you going to stand up with me and see the other day?”

Some whispers, someone cheers.

“Are you going to do the impossible or will you give up before even trying?” more cheers.

“Will you get your lives back or will you quit?” at this point the cheering is almost deafening.

“A good speech,” Jaheira comments. “Too bad he doesn’t mean a word he says.”

“He doesn’t,” Karlach agrees with a scowl. “But damn if they’re not eating from his palm already. I’d thought it would take more for him to trick them all. Turns out I was wrong.”

“They’re scared,” Halsin tries. “They’re lost. They have entered one battle and were thrown into another, so much bigger than everything they have always known.” The druid frowns. “And he is using that against them.”

“Well, whatever he is doing,” Astarion chimes in. “It seems to be working. And damn if I am not a little inspired myself.”

“I know what you mean,” Gale agrees. “I can see how Gortash managed to achieve the heights he did, if these are the kind of speeches he gives.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Karlach begs. “It’s bad enough he has Nemo wrapped around his finger, worse yet the entire crowd of people who should rightfully hate him.”

“To be fair, he did save Nemo’s life.”

Karlach scoffs.

“And I still don’t get why,” she runs her hands through her hair. “He had nothing to get out of that, nothing.”

Halsin coughs.

“Is it possible he did it out of...well, the affection he holds towards Nemo?” he tries. “They do seem to be locked together quite tight.”

“Don’t remind me,” Karlach sighs. “I can’t stand to watch how ridiculously proud Nemo looks right now. Damn straight swooning at the spot."

“What can I say, Nemo knows what he likes. Or, well, who he likes.”

“His taste is shit-“

°°°

“Wow,” Nemo laughs. “I haven’t had this rush of adrenaline since Methistar. Good job.”

Enver smiles and moves to catch Nemo’s face into his hands. It was an efficient speech, all things considered, even though most of it Enver just bullshitted though, adding there and there the facts he has learned about the Brain.

But it seemed to work, the general gloomy mood lifted, and, more importantly, it gave him a break to collect his thought and think ahead.

With Bane and the Church out of picture, he required a lot of thinking.

Rewiring the entire strategy will not be the easiest task, but Enver is up to it. If anyone can do it, it’s him.

But that, too, can wait.

“Still got it in me, huh?” he chuckles, though he doesn’t really need any conformation, not with the way Nemo stares at him, wide eyed and entirely lovesick.

Here, that’s better. His sweet, dear, bloodthirsty partner.

And to think Enver almost lost him.

“You were excellent,” Nemo all but purrs, leaning into the touch. “As ever. Never change,” he leans for a kiss, planting the softest, feather-light one up Enver’s mouth.

Then, as quickly as he leaned in, he suddenly pulls away.

Enver follows, trying to capture familiar lips under his, but the assassin prevents him from that, tears out of his hold and takes a step back.

“Nemo?”

The Bhaalspawn blinks.

“It was too easy,” he murmurs, blinking some more. “Too fucking easy. Of course it’s not done just like that,” more blinking. “Of course he is not letting me go. And with Orin out of the reach-“ he gasps, then bends in half.

“Nemo,” Enver tries to reach for him, but gets swatted away unceremoniously.

“Don’t touch me,” Nemo growls, and it is a growl what makes Enver pause. This is not a human sound; this is a howl of a beast what has no place coming out of Nemo’s throat.

Of course, he thinks. Bhaal has gone nowhere.

“Control yourself,” he tries, adding steel to his voice, but Nemo just laughs.

“Control yourself?” he gasps. “You have no idea what it is like, no fucking idea. And why would you? No one understands what it’s like to be Bhaal’s favorite, no one can ever-“ another growl tearing out of his throat. “Get...help.”

“What?”

“I said get help,” Nemo cries out. “Get Karlach or Wyll, or, for god’s sake, get Aylin here, I’m sure she can hold me down.”

“You don’t need their help,” Enver tries and knows instantly he is lying even to himself. An awful, loud sound of the bones cracking comes rattling through the room and Nemo screams. “Alright,” he decides. “I will,” another pained cry instead of an answer. “I’m sure Nightsong can-“

“Just go!” Nemo chokes out as his flesh tears, white bones showing though the gaps. His limbs shake and twist and it’s about the end of Enver’s endurance.

He goes to get help, leaving his ally alone in a dark, cold room.

With nothing but Bhaal in his head.