#wildshape: chickadee.

[oflolth]

Astarion watched on as she screamed. As she fought. As she pleaded in one breath then codenamed him to death the next. There was nothing that could be done about the rope tearing into her wrists - the ability to reason ended when Sen collapsed into the ground and awoke something feral. In case some part of her, any part of her, could hear him through her urge, he responded when she spoke. If the roles were reversed, she'd do the same for him. This he has no doubt. Mayhaps if the roles were reversed she would have listened to the warning signs much sooner than he had. How callously he dismissed this when it rose to his attention. Something always smelled desperate and depraved about Sen. Astarion had laughed about it. Then the bard girl ended up mauled to death feet away from where they all slept and the sweet, flower like scent of her blood was all over his companion. He did not say a word to the others but he knew. There was no blame cast Sen's way though she was clearly the one responsible but the only thing he said about it was be more subtle. Sometimes he even wonders what's wrong with him when he's lost in his retrospection. A grin tugs at his lips when the answer comes to mind swiftly - there was too much wrong with him to count. Here though he has an opportunity to do what he didn't before - an opportunity to do things right. His dear Sen was drenched in sweat by the time she finally stopped trashing against her bonds. It's only when the he can smell the hormones calming in her blood as her heart began to regulate that he moved his hand closer to gently brush her hair from her face, latching to her cheek in cold stick. He was not afraid of her nor would he be threatened by her demons. Come morning when her eyes finally woke and his Sen was brought back to him he would vow to them both whatever this was that was corrupting her she would be saved in it.

@starlatan // morning breaks, and her mind is her own again.

her mind is her own, there is blood in her mouth, and she is sweat - drenched and disgusting, good eye blurred from bad sleep, and - gods, the relief she feels when she sees his face is of a strength to split open her chest.

astarion is still alive. she has not wrested herself of her bindings and wrapped her fingers round his neck. small mercies.

she thinks of isobel, dead, and wishes she'd had the foresight to carry that act through. but then she's hovering, uncertain. would it have changed anything?

perhaps it would've netted her more time, but how much more? a month with astarion, before the next impossible choice was dropped unwanted in her lap?

she is a selfish little beast - now that she knows he is on the bargaining table, she may spill rivers of blood in his name. but... not for anyone but him.

not even for that tangled thing that is the urge and her intertwined.

the urge, quiet yet still gnawing at the back of her mind, is enjoying her thoughts of blood - it makes itself known in a little rush. sen shies away from it like a startled bird. still, as soon as its shown itself, it is gone again. tired, maybe.

but it is still there. it still may take him.

maybe she can sleep by a sussur flower. maybe she can be kept away from sharp objects. maybe she can be locked up every night like some rabid dog. maybe-

look, desperate times invite drastic measures.

what feels heaviest is that she has betrayed his trust. he does not fear her - the one who he should fear most. it had taken a while for her to understand just how hard - won his trust truly was. she'd believed it there long before it really had been.

now, if he has any sense - and sen knows his sense far outweighs hers, has known that a long time - he will run for the hills. had she no parasites, she would advocate for just such an escape, and insist he embark on it immediately; as things stand, bound by tadpoles as they are, they'll have to find another way. those aforementioned drastic measures.

her voice is a bit raw when she first speaks, but as she goes, it warms. " i think i'm alright now. " all caveats aside. her eyes meet his for a moment and then shift awkwardly away. he's seen her feral before. he's seen her bite. it's just that she's never bitten him.

hells, had she tried last night? a memory floats back to her, and her eyes go wide.

that explains the blood in her mouth, though. her eyeteeth pricking her own tongue. she runs it against her teeth again now, and the feeling grounds her.

what would he do, were the roles reversed? a joke, maybe. he can always tease out a smile, even in the worst of circumstances. she looks up at him, and tries for levity. " do you remember when i asked you if your tadpole gave you a hallucinatory butler? i know you probably gave up any hope of my sanity then, but- "

it feels flat. she gives up, and her teeth worry at her lip. " gods, i- " she's a bit worried that if she keeps talking she's going to burst into tears. which can't possibly be something either of them want, so she holds her tongue. but a few moments pass, and the quivering of her lip ceases, and then she speaks without tossing composure out the window. " do you want some, er, sorry i tried to murder you consolation blood? no? um. " she stares miserably at the ground. " that was a joke. not that you can't have blood, if you want it, but i- " gods, has her charisma entirely flown the coop? has the dark urge scared it away?

( yes, the dark urge has scared her charisma away. at least temporarily. )

" i'm- " she looks up at him again. " i'm glad you're alright. and- i'm sorry. and- " she clears her throat, feeling as awkward as an addled - if potentially lethal - duckling. " and thank you. i- you know, now, that i really- i couldn't stand it if anything- if anything were to happen. to you. but this thing- the part of me that- gods, or maybe it is just all of me, and the rest is just playing at beyond something else. " she breaks off, swearing. " but it's- i'll get like that again. it's never stayed away for very long. and i'm not feeding it like i should, but i- i have fed it. it knows i'm not very good at- " she breaks off, swearing. " i'm not good at restraint. "

[hammer-n-tails]

NO BIRDS IN THE FANTASY OLIVE GARDEN