#Florrick/Jaheira

[linka-from-captain-planet]

young Florrick/Jaheira headcanon coming together... imagining Jaheira returning to the forest where she became a druid after the battle against Ketheric Thorm for a little alone time, only to be pestered by a bold young wood elf who is much more interested in magic, urban life, and heroism than her ascetic community would prefer

#a bratty 22 year old Florrick being the first person to MILFify a 45 year old Jaheira is very real to me #Jaheira being plagued by youngins who desperately want to hit it is very real to everyone #Florrick/Jaheira #technically this is fanfic

[rolanpilled]

BG3 Patch 5 Spoilers

WARNING: BG3 SPOILERS AHEAD!

New content from the ending scene of BG3. This is all from the perspective of a redeemed Dark Urge who romanced Shadowheart and Halsin, and recruited every "good" ally possible.

people at the party: all your companions, scratch, owlbear, volo, and a bard in the middle playing a song (his name is milil)

lae'zel is the only one who isn't here physically, she sent an astral projection instead because she's been busy fighting vlaakith

astarion explains why he ran away (ashamed) when the sunlight hit him, he's become a "hero" who adventures and has accepted himself

(romanced halsin) you can hug halsin, he's missed his friends and you. you can do both the hug and the kiss, it's really sweet. he's turned the shadowlands into a community, repursing reithwin and moonrise towers into homes for people

jaheira's daughter rejoined the flaming fist, she's been working on rebuilding the harper network. the upper city was entirely destroyed by the battle but has been mostly rebuilt. she jokes that you might be a parent soon

wyll gives you a choice between three stories, a stegosaur/dinosaur battle, an impossible lich, or a young dragon. he lost his warlock powers but has been managing the best he can, and has become a RANGER ("a true hunter of monsters"). duke ravengard is commanding the flaming fist and help rebuilding the city, and he's very proud of his son

minsc and boo guard the streets while jaheira is "occupied with harperish manners". they "went to give a tickle" to the zhentarim, then got locked up in a zhentish cell, awaiting execution? idk if i'm reading incorrectly but he seems to be implying that he actually GOT executed but withers brought him back just in time lmfao

gale has become "professor gale dekarios of blackstaff academy, educator of the esteemed school of illusion". tara is with him. he surrended the crown of karsus to mystra, who cured him of the orb in exchange (his tattoo is gone), though his students still think he's explosive (he implies that he uses it as a threat to keep his class under control). he tells his students about your adventures together. he also implies you're welcome to visit his tower

shadowheart (main romance) - the game told me that we settled down together to live a happy, peaceful life on a farm in the countryside. shar still hurts her (if parents are saved), especially when she can sense that SH is enjoying herself, but it's been getting less frequent because she's been "losing interest". there's a new hug and kiss scene for her too, so i'm assuming this is for ALL companions and not just halsin/SH/whoever

withers will speak to you about karlach, explaining that she won't be able to come back. he jokes about her, which is rare for him, and you're given to opportunity to grieve her loss. in "a dozen tendays" (assumedly how long bg3 is), "an entire life was lived, she lived several centuries" (not exact quote).

milil, the bard playing in the center, does NOT want to be there. he's pissed that no one recognizes him (he's pissed specifically that i'm a bard and don't recognize him), i had to pass a deception check to recognize him and he cheered up and offered to change the song he's playing

there's a chest called "Chest of Grateful Words" filled with letters from your allies!

"Official Guild Letter"

"Letter from Barcus"

"Letter from Art"

"Letter from Valeria"

"Letter from Ravengard"

"Letter from Sebastian"

"Letter from Florrick"

"Letter from the Gur" (unascended Astarion)

"Letter from Alfira" (durge, killed quil grootslang)

"Letter from Dammon"

"Letter from Elminster"

"Letter from Nocturne"

"Letter from Voss"

"Letter from Hope"

"Letter from Mayrina"

"Letter from Nine-Fingers"

"Letter from Zevlor"

"Harp-stamped Letter"

Baldur's Mouth Gazette

If you find anything interesting I missed, please let me know.

#bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #wyll #karlach #lae'zel #gale #scratch #owlbear #shadowheart #halsin #minsc #jaheira #guild #barcus #alfira #valeria #ravengard #sebastian #florrick #gur #dammon #elminster #nocturne #voss #hope #mayrina #nine-fingers #zevlor #patch 5 #astarion

[roughlytwentytwofrogs]

I need someone, ANYONE to see what I'm seeing.

Wyll x Rion (Jaheira's sassy daughter).

Okay, okay, I know, but hear me out:

Wyll becomes Duke, Rion ranks up in the Flaming Fists. They meet again some time post game because of their jobs. Wyll trying to woo her while she is just struggling to keep him alive through assassination attempts and other political shenanigans. He tries so hard to have a romance straight out of a book, except he fails to realize that he's the princess and she's the knight in shining armor (and she's very grumpy about it).

They're both idealists and inherently good guys; they both want to protect Baldur's Gate as much as they can and help people. They're a perfect match in my heart.

He'd fall first, because maybe she reminds him of Florrick a little and maybe he sees the good she wants to do behind the grumpy sassy facade she shows the world and the love and care she has for her adopted siblings whom she practically raised. He would look at her and see how fierce and intense she is and maybe he would notice the assassin coming his way a tiiiiny bit before he shows it but she's always there to save him anyways and she looks really hot doing so, so what's the harm?

And she'd fall harder because she would be convinced at first that he's another one of those 'heroes' like her mum who in the pursuit of greatness forget to be good people but slowly she realizes that he's actually not like that at all, he's a 20-something romantic and a tiny bit goofy guy trying to take an entire city's wellbeing onto his shoulders both to honour his late dad and because he's just Like That and oh my god he's kinda cute actually what the fuck.

Wyll gets to be like "That's my wife!" *kicks feet* and Rion gets to be like "That's my husband!" *punches you in the face*

And their happily ever after would involve kids (adopted or not), awkward ballroom dancing with his very much not used to it wife, and reforming Baldur's Gate and the Flaming Fists to do better.

Does anyone understand my vision??? Please???

#on my quest to enlighten people to Wyll's shipability #wyll ravengard #wyll bg3 #rion bg3 #that man is simping for lae'zel in act 1 you cannot tell me he would not into another no-nonsense military woman bossing people around #and also Wyll gets to be an actual character rather than the watered down emotional support treatment he gets in most of his tadfools ships #please give the man some content that doesn't revolve entirely around another character's story #This may or may not include Jaheira as the deadbeat mum trying to reconnect with her kid and grandkids as best as she can #and Florrick in the background being Baldur's Gate hottest lesbian and also maybe Wyll's cool aunt figure who really #REALLY does not want to be asked to babysit #and mayyyyybe Fig and Mol sowing chaos here and there #give me the Wyll ships that get him to stop being the protector and let himself be more vulnerable

[team--edward]

Male Poll

NPC SMOOCHING POLL UPDATE:

I forgot that everyone isn’t bi so I’m separating the poll I did before into men and women for better range (sorry to any of your enby hcs). I consulted the notes and tallied the characters people asked for who to add. (Leaving out Alfira, Dammon, and Aylin because I know they will sweep the competition)(some people mentioned I should take out the emperor and Mizora because you can smooch them in the game, which is fair, but they have a low enough fan base that I’m gonna keep them in) (I’m also putting in Jaheira and Minsc who arnt NPCs but arnt romancable)(also people weren’t sure what smooching means so I’m gonna clarify in a romantic/sexual way, not like a comfort kiss)(if you are ace I guess you can do comfort kiss)

#bg3 poll #bg3 #bg3 companions #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 jaheira #bg3 mizora #bg3 Nine-fingers Keene #bg3 orin #bg3 lakrissa #bg3 lia #bg3 helsik #bg3 korilla #bg3 araj #bg3 isobel #bg3 zethino #bg3 florrick

[traceofexistence]

hey guys remember when the lesbians won faerunvision 😁

#baldur's gate 3 #karlach #lae'zel #minthara #dame aylin #jaheira #counsellor florrick #this is obviously a joke #if you know the reference then you know #crap photoshop

[blackjackkent]

I didn't actually see it happen, but judging by the path to the next quest, Minsc barreled straight through a wall in his haste to go look for Boo:

Correct priorities, say I.

Minsc is standing past the crash, his head cocked, a ranger scenting the wind.

"My friend," he murmurs soberly. "From our brief sharing of skulls, I know you have faced many strange beings. But none like this! Whatever happens, show no fear and stay your hand! Trust in Minsc!"

He has no idea what the other man is talking about. Strange beings? Clearly they are on the hunt for whoever - or whatever - Minsc wanted to introduce him to a moment ago... but he knows nothing beyond that.

He shoots a glance sideways at Jaheira, who is watching the back of Minsc's head intently as he prowls. Catching Hector's look, she raises her eyebrows and shrugs. He could swear he sees the hint of a teasing grin on her face.

A smile tugs slightly at Hector's lips. He realizes, somewhat abruptly, that he is enjoying himself. He is still riding a bit of an adrenaline rush from his standoff with the Emperor a moment ago, but they were successful - Minsc is free of the Absolute's influence, which has released a good deal of the tension that was driving them, and while the man seems perhaps not entirely stable, his good humor is obvious. "I do trust you," he agrees, and then laughs softly through his nose. "I think."

Minsc grunts. "Minsc finds that the less thinking he does, the easier the trusting comes..." A pause.

Suddenly he goes utterly still. And Hector hears it-- a soft, chittering squeak, and the scratching of tiny claws on stone. There is the almost imperceptible image of movement in the shadows, a tiny shape hurling itself forward towards Minsc's chest.

"WAIT!" Minsc bellows, falling to his knees, catching the tiny form and cradling it against his chest.

Hector can hear more of that agitated squeaking, rising in pitch and intensity. He watches in bafflement as Minsc's shoulders hunch and his head bows.

"You gaze into Minsc's soul," the berserker whispers, his voice full of anguish, "and see his foul crimes! You smell the stench of evil upon him, pointy claws primed, ready to scratch out his eyes!"

Hector cannot see who or what he is talking to, what beast is threatening him, but it has evidently stayed its attack for the moment, for Minsc continues speaking. "I am sorry, my friend!" he cries. "I am at the mercy of your faultless justice! Now, if you must burrow through my blackened heart..." He spreads his arms like a martyr welcoming the sacrificial dagger. "I am ready."

A long silence, and then another loud, firm SQUEAK.

Minsc's head lifts and joy fills his voice.

"No? You are certain? Such boundless compassion! You are all heart! And whiskers! And cute little nose!" A pause. If the creature squeaks again, Hector doesn't hear it, but Minsc responds nevertheless, nodding several times vigorously. "You are right, of course. There is still much evil for Boo and Minsc to stamp out. But we need not fight it alone!"

He stands briskly. "I have a new face to show you. But it is not a villainous one for the clawing, understand?"

He turns, meets Hector's gaze with a smile splitting his face in half, and extends his palm, on which is seated a pale gold hamster with beady bright black eyes.

"You-- this is Boo! And Boo -- meet you."

(A/N: Oh my goooooooooooooood. Also please look at Hector's fucking FACE on seeing this.)

Hector feels the sudden urge to laugh rising in his throat. Not unkindly, but a true laugh, a real laugh, such as he has not had in some time. He glances sideways at Jaheira and she raises an eyebrow imperiously, daring him to say anything disrespectful, but he already had no intention of doing so. He has already, more or less, analyzed the situation correctly.

Minsc is... not mad, Hector suspects, but certainly more than a little off-kilter, and this little beast is very important to him in a way that strains the bounds of natural logic. But Hector likes him already - he is Jaheira's friend, a powerful fighter, and clearly good-natured when the Absolute doesn't have control of him. If being friendly towards a hamster is the strangest thing Minsc asks of him, he'll be ahead of a number of their party, to be honest.

"It is an honor," he says, very seriously, and inclines his head.

"No," Minsc says, equally seriously. "It is a hamster." His eyes flash happily. "A miniature giant space hamster! Fear not, you will learn the difference in time!" He raises his opposite fist, his voice taking on an extra rumble of gravity. "The villains locked Boo away, lest his righteous gaze cause their tadpole to flee in terror!"

"Now we are together again, all will be exactly as--"

He pauses, listens as the hamster begins to squirm on his palm and squeak loudly.

"Boo!" he says, sounding scandalized. "Why do you use such language?"

The hamster squeaks again insistently. Whether it is actually responding to Minsc intelligently or simply making the noise of its kind, Hector cannot tell, but Minsc seems to divine meaning from it regardless.

He smiles. "Once more my hamster proves himself my greater half, and makes the path clear when my mind is fuzzier than his tiny bottom! He says we will join you, and cleanse Baldur's Gate of evil together!"

Hector clears his throat to again swallow the urge to laugh. Having Minsc along is, quite clearly, going to be an adventure on more than one level. "It would be an honor," he says. "Let's go."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #minsc my boyyyyyyyy #and boooooooo #real talk i'm almost as hero-struck meeting boo as karlach was meeting minsc and jaheira ;) #he is VERY cute hamster #i'm so excited to finally have minsc tho #either tomorrow before stream or over the weekend we will go get florrick and then set off to try and rescue wyll's dad

[maegalkarven]

I like the au where Levi was kind of rescued/raised by Ravengard.

He is still a fucked-up druid, but this time he wants to join Harpers (bc of Jaheira, yes), Florick and Ulder know he's a bhaalspawn and are trying to help him resist Bhaal while also keeping his origin secret from other people.

Wyll gets an older brother he can carry around when Levi is in a cat form.

Young arms dealer Enver Gortash sees the oldest son of Ulder Ravengard and decides to try to influence things through him (it helps what the guy is also good on the eyes). He then discovers unexpected side-effect of that in the form of the young lad he's trying to seduce for profit having more skeletons in the closet than realistically FITS in said closet.

Ulder being like "Don't let this weasel (meaning Gortash) get to you and don't spend time with him. He's a bad news." And Levi is like: "Sure thing, dad!" and immediately sneaks out on a date with Gortash.

It can either turn into the complete tragedy or get better than canon, (depending on circumstances and my mood).

Also no way Gortash tried to contact Bhaal Temple, met Orin and decided "Yeah, this is who I want to break into hells with", so the moment he finds out Levi is a bhaalspawn, Ulder's calm life is OVER.

I think Gortash would try to manipulate Levi by offering him help in taking the entire Church of Bhaal down (bc this version of Levi wants to do NOTHING with his Father).

Also this version of Levi being more suave, a good dancer, considered a charmer and the most desirable bachelor in BG. I imagine Ulder hitting Levi's unfortunate pursuers with Baldur's gazette while Wyll lives for this show.

Also Levi sees Mizora trying to approach Wyll while their dad is away and almost rips her wings off. HANDS OFF his brother, devil.

#dark urge: levi #durgetash #i'd like to think he'd fell into each other's orbit in every universe where they exist #ulder has SUCH a headache when Florrick tells him his oldest is sleeping with Gortash #He gives Levi a lecture Levi successfully ignores #Levi gets under house arrest and just flies out of the window #Wyll is covering for him bc this is what brothers do #Wyll&Levi are just two guys hyped for Heroes of BG (Minsc and Jaheira) #Wyll becomes ranger bc of Minsc and Levi seeks Jaheira out and begs to take him as her apprentice

[aboxofcereales]

Currently trying to collect all the information about our companies’ life before the events of Baldur’s Gate 3. Mainly, about their family and age. Any suggestions/editing will be very much welcome.

Huge thanks to everyone who aiding the cause in comments and reblogs.

Last update - 10 April 2024.

Wyll Ravengard: is about 24, has left the city when he was 17, in origin introduction states that he’s been exiled for 7 years. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, he's in fact 24 & Neutral Good. Apparently his dad, Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard, raised him by himself, Wyll’s mother, Francesca, passed away in childbirth, when Wyll was born, as stated by Ulder’s longsword description, Wyll mentions her during a romance scene in Act 3, also calls himself “a single son to a single father”. According to Murder in Baldur's Gate: Ravenguard has never married and has no interest in domestic matters, moreover the said sword description calls Wyll's mother Ulder's love, not wife, which makes me think that Wyll was born out of wedlock. Supposed to have 3 uncles. I’ve seen a note about Wyll diving to see a mermaid as kid, written by his dad, in the high security vault. Florrick seen him grow up, had a crush on Stelmane as a kid, also during his childhood enjoined fishing with his dad, but sucked at it. Also, Ravengard's Scourger states that "Duke Ravengard's father was the sort of man who works with his hands, and communicates in grunts. In his heart his son vowed to do better. But when Wyll was born, Ravengard felt a strange gravity that drew him away from his son.", that strange gravity might be Francesca's death in childbirth(?). Generally, I strongly advise to take him around the city in act 3, as he tells plenty stories of his boyhood.

Gale Dekarios: still not sure if there any information about how old he might be, but I estimated around mid-to-late 30s, though it doesn’t really sit well with him meeting Mystra as a kid (btw there’s an absolutely wonderful post on this topic by @lairofsentinel, check it out), still I’d like Gale to be on the older side, alternatively, he may be around 28-30 due Mystra's return year. Personal headcanon - he's 37. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, he's 35 & True Neutral. He casted his first spell as a babe - a score of rabbits in the panty. Apparently lives separately from his parents in his tower, at least as kid had them both (mentioned when he first tells about his friend-tressym, Tara), thou in his origin (at least as much as heard and played myself but @vitanithepure confirmed it) only his mother gets mentions, the state of the other parent is unknown. Has a very tender relationship with her, but didn’t inform her about the orbe for her own safety, her name may be Morena (godsblessdataminers), Mrs Dekarios really wants him to find someone to settle down with. Also, Tara hates his beard.

Shadowheart (Jenevelle Hallowleaf): is about 50, comments that Viconia documented about 40 years worth of her life at the hands of Shar, in the same note she writes that Shadowheart was able to keep her heart true to her child self, and was hard learning Shar lessons. As I understood when she was kidnapped, she was about 10-13, kidnapping was directly by the Shar command.According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, she' 48 & Lawful Neutral. Personal headcanon - she's 51. After her abduction made friends with tiefling named Nocturne (they might have be more than friends?), had a pet mouse for sometime called Nibbles. There’s a grafiti somewhere behind Jaheira house which she has drawn. Shares a questionable taste of romance literature with Wyll and his father. Her parents’ fate, Emmeline and Arnell Hallowleaf: is up to you decisions. Her mother mentions that they wanted Jen to have siblings.

Karlach Cliffgate: early 30s I think, the way she speaks about Gortash makes me thinks she was practically a teenager when she started working for him and spend 10 year serving Zariel. Personal headcanon - she's 29. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, she's 30 & Chaotic Good. Her parents, Pluck and Caerlack, she moved them from Outer City to a nicer place. Her mom died due to fewer when she was a teen, dad a couple years later due to road accident. Both died before she met Gortash. Her mom seems to be behind her love for Minsc, Jaheira etc. You can meet her friend near Baldur’s statue.

Lae’zel of K’liir: seems to be barely 20. Githianky reach adulthood in their late teen, and as Lae’zel was yet to present a mindlflaer’s head, I think she’s the youngest in the party. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, she's exactly 22 & Lawful Evil. Personal headcanon - she's in fact 20. She hates owls due to their necks, Karlach agrees.

Astarion Ancunin: according to translation of his grave he only lived for 40 years before becoming spawn, spend 200 year as such. Safe guess - there's definitely smt wrong with his grave stone or/and translation as it messes the current year - from 220 to 250. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, he's 263, which doesnt seem right, & Neutral Evil. According the artbook he was a corrupted magistrate, which seem to be true atleast to pre-release version.

Halsin is 350, his family is from the High Forest, thou they are all gone. Spend 3 years captured by drow, loves honey and curving ducks. Jahiera is about 150-160, as she was a child in 1347. Has atleat five foster children: half-elf Rion, half-orc druid Jord, three humans - Jhessem, Fig, and Tate. Minsc was a statue from 1409 to 1480s.

#bg3 spoilers #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #wyll ravengard #gale of waterdeep #shadowheart #laezel #astarion #karlach #gods I’ll be adding stuff up. #I have so many thoughts #another reason to love wyll - HE BASICALLY TELLS YOU HOW OLD IS HE UNLIKE OTHERS #expt halsin

[littlemonday]

About Minsc and The Emperor

So, I have some thoughts on the whole exchange where the Emperor initially refuses to help Minsc. While this scene is the subject of many hate posts regarding the Emperor, I don’t see this scene as functionally much different from many other exchanges in the game with companions and NPCs alike. And, while I do think the Emperor is wrong, his reluctance to protect Minsc actually does make sense when you consider some additional context.

Here’s the additional context I’m speaking of: Jaheira tells you before you start the mission to find Minsc that in the earlier years of the Cult of the Absolute, she and Minsc had discovered the cultists and their mind flayer connections. Minsc ignored chain of command, charged in, and not only compromised the entire mission, forcing Jaheira and her Harpers to flee, but it’s what put him in his current Stone Lord predicament. When the Emperor says that his mind is chaos, and that he will not aid their cause, he has good reason to believe that. I’ve seen a lot of players just frame this as the Emperor not wanting an ally he can’t easily control, but I consider that a bad faith interpretation. For one thing, after the rescue mission, there’s a whole exchange back at camp among Jaheira, Minsc, and Tav/Durge in which you can tell Minsc that he needs to cooperate, and he can’t be so reckless in the future. This is a full acknowledgement that he’s a potential liability. The Emperor also encourages you to make allies among those whose goals align with yours and this includes many others who are not tadpoled, and for whom he would have little to no direct influence over. Lastly, we know he’s a risk averse character, and during the conversation leading up to the romance scene, there’s a dialogue option in which he’ll tell you that when dealing with an Elder Brain, there’s no room for error.

Now, I believe the Emperor is wrong here because refusing to help him might jeopardize your alliance with Jaheira and the Harpers. In fact, this is exactly what happens. So, unless there’s a good role play reason to sacrifice Minsc, I’d say talk the Emperor into protecting him. (Minsc is also awesome, so I love having him in my party).

Speaking of which, it’s very, very easy to convince the Emperor to protect Minsc! Basically, you go through a few dialogue exchanges and the Emperor will agree to protect him. You don’t even need to make any skill checks to convince him. This is functionally not much different than many other exchanges in the game in which you’re trying to convince others to your side so you get the outcome you want.

Here are just some examples of these exchanges. Some of these have skill checks, while others don’t.

-Convincing Kagha to not kill Arabella. -Convincing Roland to stay and help the tieflings. -Talking Wyll down from killing Karlach. -Convincing Shadowheart not to kill Lae’zel over the artifact. -Convincing Lae’zel not to kill you because you might be turning. -Persuading Astarion to stop drinking your blood. (If you fail these checks, he kills you then gaslights you the next day). -Convincing Jaheira you’re not a True Soul. (Someone will eventually intervene). -Convincing Shadowheart not to kill the Nightsong. (She may or may not choose to spare Nightsong on her own depending on the circumstances leading up to this). -Persuading Astarion to be better than Cazador so that he stays with the party after not ascending. -Persuading Florrick to not attack Wyll on sight when she believes he killed his father.

There are more examples, but these are the ones I can come up with off the top of my head, and I’m not going to make an exhaustive list. For a game in which you have characters who all have different perspectives and opinions, and will express them, a lot of players just can’t seem to reconcile that the Emperor is just another character with his own perspectives and opinions. Not only that, he leaves you your autonomy to do what you want even if it means you’re risking his life and freedom.

Like the other characters, the Emperor doesn’t always have opinions that align with yours. Astarion is often a notorious example of this very thing. How many of us intervene with Nere before he can kill all the gnomes? Or, save Isobel from being abducted by Marcus? Or side with Dame Aylin over Lorroakan? Astarion disapproves of all of these despite Isobel and Dame Aylin being great potential allies in the final fight. These are just a few examples, again off the top of my head.

To be charitable here, one thing that may be at play is something called ludonarrative dissonance. Essentially, LD is when the narrative of the story and the narrative of the gameplay are at odds with one another. In this case, Minsc is brought under the protection of the Emperor, and he behaves himself from there on out. Yes, there’s a brief exchange telling him to behave, but he either doesn’t understand or pretends not to. Either way, he comes under the player’s control, and with no additional scenes of him recklessly charging into battle, he seems like the perfect, controllable ally. We basically never see the chaos in his mind that the Emperor speaks of, because we, the player, are given control over him. (Kind of feels like there’s something meta going on here).

Now that I’ve been charitable, I’ll be frank: The Emperor could literally follow through on his word to destroy the Nether Brain, not take the stones or crown for himself, save you and the city, all while never forcing you to do anything you don't want to do, and people would still hate him. Oh, wait…

#bg3 emperor #bg3 #the emperor bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 #minsc #Is this a hot take? It feels like it shouldn't be. Maybe a warm take?

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Faint of Heart | One Shot

Pairing: Astarion x The Dark Urge

Chapter Count: One Shot | Read on AO3

Word Count: 7,816

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 during Act 2. Explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge as Astarion struggles with a confession. Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Confession of Feelings, Mentions of Violence, Soft Astarion, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character Rating: Mature

Author's Note: Back on my bullshit with these two. This is a one-shot based on the same Durge MC, Eli, as my other fics. I took some liberties with Astarion's confession scene, taking into account the background of the Dark Urge. It's all somewhat self-indulgent, and I wanted an excuse to write sassy Jaheira and practice writing from Astarion's POV. It's angsty, it's fluffy, it's soft and Karlach is the greatest wingman of them all! Thank you for reading my nonsense.

She stood, looking to everyone else in the Inn like a conquering hero ready to head out once more and face the darkness. She smiled with Rolan, laughed with Cal, chatted with Lia, and no one was the wiser.

Except him.

In their time together, Astarion had picked up on some of Eli’s tells. Behaviors that slipped past her mask of composure and enthusiasm, exposing the truth beneath her carefully constructed veneer.

She was exhausted. He could see it in the slight sag of her shoulders, in the way she kept having to blink and refocus on whoever she was conversing with, in her tired yet reassuring smile…the one she always had at the ready for anyone who came to her with yet another ordeal to hang around her shoulders.

A sudden and fierce burn of irrational anger flared in his chest as he continued to watch people flit around her. It brought to his mind an image of bees sucking the nectar dry from a gorgeous wildflower. They would use her until there was nothing left because that was their nature. They were desperate, all of them. The tieflings, Jaheira, Barcus, Counsellor Florrick…they were all starving for a savior, and Eli was that succor. They’d use her up until nothing was left. They’d watch her kill herself in the name of their ambitions, then hail her as a hero rather than the kind fool she was, always taking on other people’s burdens in some mad, desperate attempt to redeem whatever darkness lay coiled in her past.

Nevermind the fact that Eli’s kindness was exactly what he’d set out to manipulate from the start.

He was just as bad as the rest of them, looking to use Eli for her protection and capabilities. He was just as guilty. He’d seen her compassion as weakness and immediately dug his claws in, hooking into her like a parasite. Seducing her into his bed, stoking affection and twisting feelings – both hers and his – until he couldn’t tell truth from fiction.

And that was the problem.

Somewhere along the way, more and more truth began to slip into the words he used to charm her. He wasn’t sure when it started, but sometime between their passionate nights and hard fought days, genuine feelings began to stir every time he thought of her.

And, gods, he’d hated it.

On that first day after the nautiloid, when he’d discovered he could walk in sunlight and was out of reach of Cazador, he’d swore to never allow anyone control over him again. He’d rather drive a stake through his own heart than be a puppet tethered to someone else’s strings. And yet…here he was, allowing the very first person he’d met after making that oath to have sway over him. And he was utterly terrified he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

And so he sat at a far table in the bustling lounge of Last Light Inn, watching Eli and growing more and more perturbed as people buzzed around her.

Couldn’t they see how tired she was? She’d done enough for them today, breaking Wulbren and his compatriots out of Moonrise alongside the tieflings…well, those tieflings who’d survived the assault in the Shadowlands. Eli had been battered, bloodied and in desperate need of a healer, and yet the moment they’d come upon the prison, nothing else had mattered except freeing those being held captive.

She hadn’t said as much, but Astarion knew her well enough by now to recognize the shadow of devastation that drifted across her expression when Dammon described the attack that had scattered the refugees while on the road. She’d grown close to many of them, back at the Grove, often allowing conversations to drag on far past their welcome as some poor sod carried on about their insignificant struggles. It had frustrated Astarion to no end. They didn’t need to hear all about Bex’s absurd dream of owning a little orange cat with a bell on its neck! That knowledge did nothing to aid the process of driving steel through goblin guts.

It had all come to a head when she’d given Mol gold in exchange for absolutely nothing, spouting off some bullshit about wanting to back the next great thieves guild of Baldur’s Gate. Astarion had pulled Eli aside then, hissing about futile charity and asking her if she intended to bankroll every guttersnipe with a sob story.

She hadn’t missed a beat with her retort.

“Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite of all the guttersnipes I’ve come across. Thank the gods you only ask for blood and not gold. Otherwise, we’d be deadass broke.”

She’d leveled a stare at him that spoke volumes. He’d rolled his eyes and tried to hide the smirk threatening at the corners of his lips. Of course he was her favorite.

Still, it was mind-numbingly infuriating, how far Eli would go to help someone she cared for. What was worse was that Astarion knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she’d do the same for him. That she’d throw herself thoughtlessly into pain, torment and suffering for his sake. At one point, he could not have cared less whether she destroyed herself for his gain.

But those days were gone, and he was now forced to reckon with the fact that he’d grown attached…that he cared. That he’d slit the throat of anyone in this room who tried to take advantage of her. That he’d once been the person trying to take advantage...

The thought now stirred something uneasy and almost nauseous within his stomach. He hated thinking about how he’d treated her, and yet it seemed to be something he was incapable of forgetting. Whatever was between them now, it was founded on something rotten. It had grown out of a lie, and regardless of how he felt now, a part of him knew that in order for anything to continue he would need to confess the vile intentions that had started all of this.

He owed her that, and she deserved it. She’d likely hate him, and all of this would come crashing to a disastrous end…but she deserved the truth, Astarion’s feelings be damned. She deserved to be with someone who would treat her with the same honesty and respect that she showed to everyone else. She deserved to be with someone who would protect her, not lie and manipulate her. She had so many burdens of her own, and yet she kept piling the burdens of others atop them. She deserved someone who would help steady her, not someone who would only get in her way and cause her to stumble.

She was going to hate him. He knew it as surely as he knew the sun would not cut through the gloom over the Shadowlands tomorrow morning. But he couldn’t keep living this farce. He couldn’t keep bedding her and enduring all those feelings of guilt and self-hatred as they mixed with the longing and ecstasy of bringing her to the brink and watching her come undone. It was too overwhelming. He wanted to be with her honestly and openly and not have their time together tainted by his wretched memories.

He wanted something real with her, built on the foundation of what he felt now rather than the putrid intentions that had started all of this.

It wouldn’t happen, he knew. Astarion wouldn’t want himself, either, all things considered. And that was okay. She deserved the opportunity to hate him for how he’d treated her. Gods knew he hated himself for it, it was only fair she hate him, too.

The fact that she didn’t already was astounding. He was a wretched thing, ugly in all ways except for appearance and so useless that he had to manipulate others into fighting his battles. He had ruined so many lives over the past two centuries. He’d been used up until there was nothing left of him to offer. And yet she was always near, never shying away and never overbearing…just always there, always at his back. She didn’t flinch away from him, didn’t pity him, and she made him feel things he’d forgotten how to feel.

The first night they’d spent together had been unexpectedly enthralling and pleasurable, something he had not experienced in he didn’t know how long. And he’d wanted more, despite his confusion and the messiness of his feelings, he wanted more of that connection. And so they’d spent more nights finding comfort and pleasure in each other. Those nights were little moments of solace in a world gone mad.

Those nights had been about more than sex; they were nights where she told him beautiful words that weren’t made for people like him.

“Seldom do I find so little fault with someone. I hope it lasts.” A cool voice caught Astarion by surprise as he sat lost in his darkening thoughts.

His head snapped around, hand instinctively twitching towards a hidden blade at his hip.

Jaheira stood beside him, arms crossed and face unreadable and she pinned him in her stare. Her eyes flitted momentarily to the hand at his waist, and Astarion brought it back to rest on the table he sat at, dagger still fastened to his belt.

The ghost of a self-satisfied smirk flashed across her face as Jaheira glanced away from him and back towards the subject of her comment. He followed her gaze towards Eli and hummed thoughtfully, settling into a more relaxed posture that he hoped did not betray the swirling mess that currently haunted his mind.

“You should tell her as much,” he mused, watching Eli as she pushed a strand of her silver-white hair behind an ear.

The sight caused his mind to pull a memory forth, unbidden. It was tactile and soft, the feel of his fingers tangling in that hair…of his lips caressing the shell of her ear as he whispered ravishing praise for only her to hear.

He took a grounding breath and dashed those thoughts from his mind.

“She thrives on pretty words and compliments,” he quipped.

Astarion wouldn’t elaborate that the reason for it was because Eli had a desperate desire to escape whatever monster dogged her broken memories. She thought of herself as something tainted and corrupt. Something unworthy. He’d got a glimpse of that darkness on the night she’d woken him, panicked and breathlessly ranting about how she feared she would harm him.

At first, he’d thought she was still in the throes of one of her many night terrors, perhaps sleepwalking. The truth had been far more grim, and Astarion was still haunted by images from that night. Images of Eli struggling against the bindings Astarion had put her in, for the protection of them both. Eyes feral as her nails dug into the flesh of her palms, mouth snarling as she spat all manner of vile insults at him. She had lost herself to whatever thing she was keeping at bay inside herself, and Astarion had come to realize that the fear which hounded Eli on both sleepless nights and in nightmares was well founded.

That fear had spread to him, too. Fear of losing her, of watching her be overtaken by this madness. He understood the depravity he saw in her eyes, the mania that was a loss of self when hunger took hold and choked all other sensibility from your mind. He hadn’t felt empathy for another soul in nearly two hundred years, and suddenly there it was, raw and wounding and utterly terrifying. His thoughts screamed back to that year of starvation and darkness, locked in a tomb as he slowly went mad with hunger. Those recollections were an undertow, threatening to pull him down and drown him.

But she’d needed him, and so he’d wrenched himself free of his clawing subconscious and watched over her until morning when she returned to herself. A lot of things changed that night. They’d been changing already, but the lies he’d been telling himself about how he felt simply could not survive the blistering reality of the situation at hand.

There was still some life left in his cold dead heart, and he had no idea how to reconcile with that knowledge.

The sound of Jaheira clearing her throat brought him out of his brooding and he turned his head to find the druid eyeing him curiously, a hand outstretched towards him. A key was held between her fingers and Astarion glanced at it before meeting her gaze, perplexed. Jaheira sighed and took a seat opposite to Astarion at the table, setting the key down on the worn wooden surface of the hightop and pushing it over to him.

“Seems Karlach was speaking truth when she said the two of you were a pair of emotionally-stunted lovesick fools,” Jaheira said, leaning back in her chair and pointing from Eli to Astarion. “You completely tuned me out, staring at her like a wolfhound salivating over a piece of raw steak.”

Astarion tensed at the remark, frowning before he slipped back into his casual and roguish demeanor.

“Yes, yes, make your jokes about the monstrous vampire. How dare he pursue the charming and morally upstanding hero.” Astarion snorted, eyeing Eli ruefully. “I’ve heard it before. Wyll likes to especially harp on the subject.”

He made a mental note to tell Karlach not to be such a gossip.

Jaheira huffed, a noise that could possibly be construed as a laugh, except Astarion wasn’t sure he could picture the stern woman laughing.

“Please,” she said, almost dismissively. “I am not familiar enough with your little band of hedonists to form an opinion on your social dramas. And even if I were, I doubt I’d care.”

The druid turned her head to gaze back towards the bar.

Bex and Danis had joined the group situated around Eli, and Astarion noted that another bottle of wine had recently been opened. Eli was turning down offers to refill her glass and Astarion felt a sudden urge to grab her and whisk her away to the quiet sanctuary of his tent back at camp. And not even to do anything sexual, though if that’s where the night took them, he’d happily oblige.

He just wanted to give her a space of reprieve, somewhere she could rest and escape all this chaos.

“What I do care about,” Jaheira continued, drawing Astarion’s attention back to her. “Is that one’s wellbeing.” She tilted her chin towards Eli. “She is our way into the cult. Our way to get close to Ketheric. She is our key to putting an end to this blight of the Absolute.”

Astarion didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself to open his mouth in that moment. Jaheira was loading more burdens onto Eli’s shoulders, and his desire to hide her away – to protect her – was only growing.

He knew the druid spoke truth. Eli had a connection to all of this that none of them, including her, understood. What they did know was that Ketheric Thorm recognized her when they showed up at Moonrise. He’d addressed her as a comrade, and it deeply unsettled her. What secrets were lying locked away behind Eli’s fractured psyche? A part of him honestly didn’t care…he just wanted her safe…

“So,” Jaheira said after the silence between them lingered for a moment. She tapped the key still lying on the tabletop in front of Astarion. “That is a key to a room upstairs. As well-meaning as the rabble down here is, what Eli needs is rest. The days and weeks ahead will not be easy, and opportunities for respite will be few. Make her take this one.”

Astarion opened his mouth, intending to ask why the hell Jaheira didn’t just go over there and say these things to Eli. But she was well ahead of him and held her hand up in a motion to silence him.

“I have no sway over her. I will only come off as overbearing and fussy, even if I do speak truth.” Her tone took on a hint of amusement, that of an elder and learned lioness affectionately chiding a cub. “I have been informed by Karlach that the two of you are together, yes?”

Astarion stiffened, his mind swirling around all the complications involved with his and Eli’s relationship. Guilt rose up in his throat and he swallowed it down uneasily as Jaheira eyed him curiously. She bullied past the question, not waiting for his affirmation.

“Take Eli upstairs and away from all of this,” Jaheira said, rising from her chair in a motion to leave, her piece said.

She then paused, considering something, before turning back to Astarion.

“It is not my place to say this, but I will, anyway. You seem conflicted about something concerning her. And I don’t want details,” she added hastily, noting Astarion’s discomfort at being called out. “However, I know all too painfully the grief of leaving things unsaid. This life you currently lead, it is one lived day-to-day, and those days will run out. Sometimes, much sooner than expected. Don’t wait until you have nothing left but regret.”

Once again not waiting for a response, Jaheira turned and made her way towards a group of Harpers who were chatting near the Inn’s central firepit. Astarion was left alone with the echo of her words and the key she had provided.

Something squirmed uncomfortably in Astarion’s chest as he rolled what she said over and over in his mind.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

She was right, of course. He needed to talk to Eli about them. About whatever this was. About how he’d manipulated her.

Used her.

Astarion groaned softly and ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly - a nervous habit.

Enough! Enough thinking, you wretched pathetic cowardly moron!

Rising from his chair, Astarion grabbed the key and made his way towards the bar, stepping up behind Eli who was currently providing Rolan with a play-by-play of their Moonrise prison break. Gently, he wrapped an arm around her waist and brought his other hand up to rest on her shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the side of her neck as he did so.

Astarion felt Eli’s pulse quicken beneath his lips and smiled as she leaned back into him. He felt a smug sense of satisfaction as he caught Rolan frowning at him, indignant as Eli’s attention shifted away from him and to the vampire.

“Hello, my dear,” he whispered softly into her ear, ignoring the tiefling wizard who looked as if he wanted to set Astarion on fire. “I’m sorry to interrupt you and your adoring fans, but I have some adoring of my own that I need you for.”

It was so easy for Astarion to slip back into his charmingly seductive mannerisms, so much so that he felt a pang of guilt twist in his stomach.

Truth be told, Astarion wasn’t exactly sure how to approach the type of conversation he wanted to have. He’d never done this before, asking to talk about a relationship, so he was winging it and using what tactics he knew to get her away from the crowd and to a more private location.

Eli turned her head to meet his gaze and grinned, placing a hand on the one Astarion had at her waist and intertwining her fingers with his.

“Really, now?” she said playfully. “And what does this adoring entail? Because if a hot bath and a massage are not included, I’m not going.”

Eli’s eyes shined with mischief as her expression settled into a teasing smirk. She kissed him lightly near the underside of his jaw – a reassuring gesture. Eli would go with him, regardless, but she always did enjoy a bit of banter.

“Arrangements can be made,” Astarion quipped as he turned her in his arms and began leading her towards the staircase to the upper floor.

Apprehension was beginning to roil in his gut, but he forced the alluring façade to stay in place.

Eli allowed him to direct her towards the stairs, tossing a wave to Rolan and calling over her shoulder.

“Sorry, Rolan! We’ll chat more later, as I’m currently being commandeered.”

Astarion couldn’t help the smug expression that crossed his face when he heard the tiefling’s miffed response.

“Mmhm, you seem like a very unwilling captive,” Rolan grunted.

Eli laughed.

“What can I say? I’ve got a weakness for pretty words, great sex and a man I don’t have to share snacks with,” she said.

Astarion tried to hold back the surprised bark of a laugh that bubbled up from his throat and failed miserably. He felt eyes on them, some scandalized and others amused - and heard Rolan’s agitated groan - as he led Eli up the stairs.

They reached the second-floor landing and he pressed a hand to the small of Eli’s back, guiding her towards the room.

“Where are we going, anyway?” she asked, trying to stifle a yawn as she spoke.

Safe from the greedy, peering eyes of the mob below, the shift in Eli’s demeanor was almost instinctual. She sagged a bit, weary and leaning into his touch. Hey eyelids fluttered closed for a moment and she drew in a deep, steadying breath.

She truly was exhausted and Astarion began to second guess himself. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to broach such a sensitive topic. She needed rest, not more burdens. Was he being selfish? Trying to offload his guilt just so he could feel better?

But the way she pressed into him, slightly leaning on him in her fatigue and suddenly so disarmed and at ease the moment they were away from the crowd…it caused a gnawing self-hatred to burn deep in his bones.

She trusted him. She felt safe with him. She shouldn’t…he didn’t deserve her affection.

“Jaheira, like the meddlesome elder she is, secured us a room away from all the nagging unwashed masses so you can finally get some peace and quiet,” Astarion said, stopping in front of a door which had the same designation as the key he had been given.

“Astarion, we are the unwashed masses,” Eli chuckled, glancing down at the battered scale mail she wore which was currently spattered with grime, blood and who knows what other less-than-savory substances.

Astarion expression pinched into one of mild disgust as he considered his own leathers which were equally smeared and foul.

“Yes, well, perhaps whatever contemptuous god is overseeing our day-to-day lives has seen fit to grace us with a private washroom? You know, as a way to apologize for all the horror and trauma that surrounds us every second of every day,” he bemoaned in that haughty, vain manner that only Astarion could pull off.

Unlocking the door, Astarion held it open and motioned with a gentlemanly flourish for Eli to enter. She did so, and the pale elf had to suppress a snort of laughter when she called out to him not five seconds later.

“Holy shit! I’ve never had such an emotional reaction to seeing a bar soap before!”

“I would hope we have not become such heathens that soap merits this much enthusiasm.”

“It smells like eucalyptus, Astarion! Eucalyptus!”

-------------------------------------------

There was, indeed, a private washroom.

Eli and Astarion took turns getting cleaned up. Soaking in a tub of warm, soapy water was a scarce luxury. Most days, their motley group was resigned to bathing in cold river water with minnows nipping at their toes as they tried to cleanse themselves with whatever natural herbs and ointments Halsin was able to scrounge up into a paste.

In truth, Astarion couldn’t recall the last time he’d been afforded the opportunity to simply enjoy a bath. Cazador certainly didn’t allow his spawn such niceties, and while he’d visited his fair share of taverns and hotels with rentable rooms while prowling for victims to bring back to his master, he was never able to just…be. To relish in the comfort of it all.

The warm water was soothing, banishing the endless chill of death sunk deep in his bones that was his constant state of being since the night he turned. Eli had washed before him and was now situated on the large plush bed across the room from the tub. A privacy screen blocked their view of one another, but they’d been chatting idly throughout the evening about nothing in particular.

Now, in a lull of silence between them, Astarion’s mind was wandering as he rested with his arms and head propped against the sides of the tub, eyes closed in a moment of calm that was all too fleeting these days. He lazily imagined having Eli in the water with him, her warm body pressed up against his which, for once, wouldn’t be cold and pallid to her touch…wouldn’t be greedily stealing the heat of her skin to warm his corpse.

But, he’d still be stealing her trust to warm his dead heart…

He sighed, feeling the ease of the moment slip away like the tendrils of steam coming off his bath water. He needed to own up to his manipulative intentions. Now. He couldn’t stomach the thought of holding Eli in his arms that night while she slept, peaceful and trusting. Holding onto him like he were something to be cared for, to be cherished. Unsuspecting of the truth…that he was deceitful and lowly.

That they never would have been here, in this room, had he not set out to use her for his selfish gain.

If he didn’t approach the subject now, he may not get another chance for some time. Their days were so overwrought with hardships and schemes that finding a moment of quiet was nearly as difficult as figuring out how to subdue the shadow curse.

Resigned to what he needed to do, and with an icy weight of dread sinking into his gut, Astarion rose from the tub and towled dry. He dressed in his typical casual outfit, a black ruffled shirt and dark trousers, and rounded the privacy screen to see Eli sitting on the bed, legs crisscrossed as she drew in a small leatherbound journal. She’d picked it up in the Emerald Grove, exchanging a dagger with Mattis for it that she’d picked up off some decrepit corpse or another.

Eli had taken to writing rather extensive notes in it about anything and everything; from information about the cult to descriptions of acquaintances and even hand drawn maps of the various areas they trekked through. She’d confided in Astarion that she feared what memories she’d made since the nataloid could one day be lost to her, just as her past was lost. And so she wanted to ensure, should that happen, she had a record she could refer to in order to hopefully reclaim some of what was gone.

Eli had even showed him several pages full of details about him. She’d written down all manner of notes, from little preferences he had – such as the style of embroidery needle he liked to use – to reminders such as: “You’ll figure out he’s a vampire pretty damn quick, Astarion is absurdly terrible at keeping secrets. Don’t be weird about it, he’s cool. He can get a bit whiny and obnoxious when he’s hungry, so make sure to keep him fed, especially if there isn’t much wildlife around. The wrist is for everyday use and the neck is for sexy times. Don’t believe him when he tells you that the inner thigh provides the best tasting blood. This is a kink and he is a liar! RATION ACCESS!”

That had made him smirk.

She’d also shown him two pages of detailed notes describing his appearance, from hair to foot. Eli wasn’t much for artistic talent, but she had a flair for the written word despite the copious amounts of vulgarity that shot from her mouth like dragon fire. The attention with which she’d described him and the complimentary nature of it all had caused his breath to catch at the back of his throat. He’d read the words over and over, actually able to picture his face in his mind’s eye as described. A strange sort of familiarity settled over him as he pictured the details on the page, and when he finally found his voice he’d stuttered a bewildered thank you, unused to the kindness she’d shown.

Now, as he sat on the edge of the bed, he felt a desperate fear burn to life inside himself. What if he never got to experience something like that again? What if their time together over the past weeks was all he ever got? Just a few brief flashes of respite among centuries of misery…

“Feeling better?” Eli asked, jolting Astarion out of his thoughts.

He blinked at her for a moment before clearing his throat and running a hand habitually through his hair.

“Yes…yes, I always feel better when I’m not covered in other people’s bodily fluids,” he said with a halfhearted chuckle that caused Eli to frown curiously and set down her journal.

She could sense something was off. And so with one last internal curse to himself, Astarion launched into one of the most anxiety-inducing things he’d ever done.

“I’ve…been meaning to talk to you. About us,” he said, tone soft and hesitant.

Eli shifted her weight on the bed, turning her body to face him. Her brows had furrowed only slightly, unsure whether she should be concerned about Astarion’s sudden shift in demeanor, yet fully open to listening attentively. Trusting. It made his gut twist.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, of course!” Astarion responded reflexively, instinctively jumping to make light of any tension. He bit back anymore reassurances before he could spit them out and cleared his throat, voice taking on a more serious tone.

“Except…not really,” he backpedaled.

Eli’s expression grew more worried and Astarion could see her already beginning to play through scenarios in her mind, trying to sort through what she may have done. What wrongs her broken mind may have committed. He sped forward, wanting to absolve her of any notion that she was at cause for anything.

“Look, I had a plan,” he began, turning towards her on the bed. “A nice simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he chuckled nervously, swallowing down the bile threatening to rise in his throat.

“It was easy…instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it…” His eyes dropped, unable to hold Eli’s stare as her own eyes searched his face, taken aback and confused by the sudden confession.

“And all I had to do was not fall for you,” he continued, glancing back up to her. Desperate for her to hear this next part. “Which is where my nice, simple plan…fell apart.”

Astarion paused, gazing at Eli with a mixture of trepidation and guilt as she watched him silently, stunned and not without a little hurt bleeding into her eyes as his words caught up with her brain.

“You’re…” he started, unsure how to put a voice to the storm wheeling inside of him. He wasn’t as eloquent as Eli, and never had he felt so incapable and inadequate at translating what he felt into words than he did right now. So he said what had been tearing him up from the inside out for days, and braced for the inevitable fallout.

“You’re incredible.” He couldn’t help the touch of a sad smile that came to his lips, or the nearly awed tone of his voice as he said the word like it could encase inside of it everything Eli had come to mean to him.

It wasn’t enough, he knew. No word would be enough. Nor would a thousand words. Because he didn’t understand how to express the way his heart seemed to flutter when she looked at him, despite it being cold and useless in his chest. He didn’t know how to explain the way her smile made him feel like someone worthwhile. Or how when he held her in his arms he thought that maybe…maybe some god somewhere had finally heard his desperate pleas.

“You deserve something real,” he admitted, with no small amount of shame, before adding, “I want us to be something real.”

Confessing to something he wanted, out loud and to someone else, was an experience he was woefully unfamiliar with. It was an experience he fully expected he’d come to regret, but he said it anyway and waited for the pain that was sure to follow.

Eli was quiet for a long moment, peering at Astarion with an expression he couldn’t quite read. He saw confusion and sadness, but there was something else, too. A flicker of something not unlike…understanding?

No, he was surely mistaken…

“So…” Eli said softly, working through her words before she spoke them out loud. Trying to parse through the influx of information coming at her.

“So, this hasn’t been real? Us? Everything we’ve been through. Our nights together…they didn’t mean anything to you…” she trailed off, almost as if she were talking to herself rather than asking it of him.

“Of course they did!” Astarion was quick to correct the assumption.

Gods, he didn’t want her to think that. Of course they had meant something to him, more than he’d thought they could. He’d chosen to be with her, even if it had initially been out of less than innocent desires, he’d chosen it. He hadn’t been forced to seek her out and lure her somewhere. She wasn’t a mark or some wretched experience he wanted to forget. He’d acted of his own free will, and even if the reasons hadn’t been as genuine as he’d made them out to be at the start, it was still the first decision he had made in nearly two centuries that wasn’t directed or forced.

That meant something to him. Those nights meant something to him. And, gods, so did she. That was part of the problem…

And so he explained as much, describing how he was used to twisting intimacy into something to be used rather than felt. How his past experiences with sex were bleeding over into the nights spent with her and that he didn’t have the faintest idea how to fix it. How he had trained himself to be numb, to wall himself off. And how, when Eli had finally, gently dismantled those walls he didn’t know what to do next…

“I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to…” Astarion concluded, feeling about as small and insignificant as he’d ever felt.

The silence that followed his confession made his skin crawl with ill ease. He stared at the bedding, terrified to look up and see the fury Eli surely felt. This was it; this was when she’d tell him to leave. And he would, quietly and without fuss. It was the last kindness he was capable of giving her.

“Astarion.” The calm softness of Eli’s voice nearly made the elf flinch. “Please look at me.”

Not a demand, but a request, spoken with care.

Confused, Astarion looked to her and instead of anger or hate or rage, he only found…her. Just Eli, looking back at him with thoughtful consideration. She should have been furious, but instead she simply took a steadying breath, scooting a bit closer on the bed so she could place a hand lightly on his knee.

He didn’t move, didn’t breathe as Eli looked at him and carefully began to speak.

“I care about you, Astarion.” She said it as if she were trying to convince him of the truth of her words, and he was stunned.

“Really?” he asked, breathless and unsure. But hopeful, too. Hopeful that maybe, just once, something in his miserable life might not end in disaster and pain.

“Yes, you beautiful fool!” she nearly laughed, squeezing at his knee.

Eli smiled at him and…gods above, it was the most dazzling and gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.

“Neither of us was looking for anything more than a night of comfort, and maybe some fun, when all of this started. We both had our own self-serving reasons,” she explained, before chuckling lightly. “Hells, I barely had more than a few weeks' worth of memories in my head at that point. Trying to rope anyone into a meaningful relationship was so low on my list of priorities I would have burst into flames on the spot had anyone mentioned the idea to me.”

Astarion couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face as Eli looked at him with an adoration that made him dizzy.

“But, things change. We changed. And, I’m glad that we did. I came to care about you in a way I don’t remember caring about anyone ever. And while that may not be saying much, considering…” Eli laughed and Astarion’s dead heart soared. “You’re special to me, right now. Regardless of how this started.”

This was certainly not how Astarion had expected this conversation to go, and he had never been so overjoyed to have his expectations usurped. He was entirely out of his depth, and so far outside his comfort zone that he was reeling. Words kept building up in the back of his throat and yet when he opened his mouth, he was struck dumb. He was overwhelmed, in the best way possible, but he hadn’t the slightest notion of what he was supposed to say or do next. And so he defaulted to what he knew.

“Well, I mean, of course I am, darling,” Astarion’s voice slipped into a silky tone. Anxiety was roiling inside of him and he tried to claw his way out, using the tools he knew best.

“The unyielding praise I am able to coax from your lips during our nights of passion has made it more than apparent,” he leaned in towards Eli, the tone of his words easing back into sultry familiarity.

Eli just shook her head with a breathy chuckle, meeting his gaze with a genuine affection in her eyes that made Astarion feel known in a way that was comforting.

“That’s not what I meant,” Eli chided with a tenderness that caught Astarion off-guard. “I mean you, Astarion. The person that you are. The person who cares about me enough to watch over me all night while I go mad. The person who is forgiving enough to not hate me the next morning. The person who makes me laugh after a long and painful day.”

Carefully, Eli raises a hand and gently presses it against Astarion’s cheek. He leans into the touch, expression softening and relaxing as his red eyes stay locked in to her own.

“The person who is being honest with me, right now. Who I appreciate more than I can say.”

Astarion was quite certain his brain had seized. He sat frozen, frantically searching her face for any hint of a lie and finding none, to his utter astonishment.

“That’s…” he started, then faltered. He knew he should say something, but his chest currently felt as if it was being wrenched open and no words would suffice to express his amazement.

“I don’t know what to say,” Astarion admitted after his stunned silence wore off. “Which is quite the accomplishment on your part, my dear.”

Eli smiled, warm and without expectations. It was beautiful.

“Thank you,” he breathed, closing the small gap between them and resting his forehead against her own. “For trusting me, and listening. For everything.”

His words were woefully inadequate, and he feared they always would be. But, Eli didn’t seem to mind and that brought him immeasurable relief.

“I’ll always listen,” Eli reassured him as she stroked the side of his face with her thumb. “Considering who you are, it’s kind of hard not to,” she teased.

His expression took on a somewhat sheepish hint as he took her hand from his cheek and held it reverently between both of his. He sat up a bit straighter as Eli pulled away, silently watching him run his fingers across her palm with a light touch.

“What do we do now?” he asked, hesitant and unsure.

Astarion looked to Eli for some sort of direction. He hadn’t thought this far ahead and honestly figured the conversation would have ended in tears or bloodshed or both by now. He didn’t know what a way forward with Eli looked like, but he knew he wanted her with him. Maybe he could ignore the confused and unsavory feelings that intruded upon their nights together? He wanted to enjoy her, to satisfy her without the shadows of past hurts creeping in. Perhaps he could figure out how…

“What do you want to do?” Eli responded, turning the question back onto him and taking him by surprise.

Astarion looked back to Eli, brows raised at the unexpected question. He considered her for a moment, thinking through how to answer. What did he want?

“I’m not sure…” he said honestly. “No one’s ever asked me that before. About anything, really.”

Eli waited, smiling reassuringly, though with a hint of sadness at Astarion’s words. It was freeing, somewhat, to be given the space to think about what he wanted and a chance to put a voice to it. But, it was also a little overwhelming, and truth be told he wasn’t quite sure how to figure it out.

“I know I don’t want to lose you,” he affirmed, squeezing her hand in his.

He did want something real with Eli. The problem was, he didn’t know what real looked like. This was unfamiliar territory for him, and he didn’t even know how in the hells he was supposed to get his bearings.

“I don’t want that, either. You know, we could be together without sex. For however long we need,” Eli suggested, a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. “I don’t think I have the best associations with it, either, considering the…things that sometimes pop into my head. Maybe we both could use time to work through those things.”

Astarion considered the idea, a cool rush of relief overcoming him as it truly began to sink in that Eli wasn’t only interested in him for his body and the way it roused it her own. They were good together, really fucking good. But it was becoming more and more difficult to reconcile what he had done in his past, under the subjugation of Cazador, with what he did with Eli now. He didn’t want to treat her like a mark or just another one of his conquests. She deserved better than that from him – to be cherished and worshiped, even ravished, fully and completely and without the haunting presence of ghosts that lurked in the corners of his mind.

“Why that almost sounds like a challenge,” Astarion said, trying to slip back into his sultry mannerisms yet failing to hide the appreciation he felt.

His tone then shifted into something quieter and more tentative as Astarion asked, “Can we…still share a bed? I think I’d miss sleeping in your arms.”

He cleared his throat, eyes darting to the side. The vulnerability behind his question was uncomfortable for him, but he thought maybe he could manage if it kept them from spending their nights apart. He’d grown fond of drifting off to sleep with her near, lulled by the low beat of her heart and the soft sighs of her breathing. It was a comfort he had never imagined himself longing for, and yet with Eli he’d quickly come to miss her warmth on the nights they slept in their own tents. Her absence at his side becoming a chill he’d rather not endure.

“I’d like that,” Eli agreed, giving his own hand a soft and appreciative squeeze.

“Well,” Astarion sighed, tension easing out of him as he leaned forward suddenly and wrapped Eli in an embrace that quickly had them tumbling back onto the bed. “No time like the present!”

Eli laughed and Astarion pulled her close, reveling in the easy solace of having everything between them out in the open rather than eating away at his insides. He rolled onto his back, tugging her up onto him so that her head was resting on his chest, just below his chin. His fingers idly stroked through her hair, eyelids drooping as the stress of the day finally caught up to him.

“This is nice,” he mumbled a bit more sleepily than intended.

A contented hum was the only response he heard from Eli before sleep took him completely.

___________________________________

In the morning Karlach gave them a knowing smirk as they descended the stairs and Eli began rummaging through the Inn’s cabinets for something that could pass as breakfast.

“You two look happy,” she remarked as Astarion took a seat across from her at one of the low tables near the central firepit. “Seems a night on your own did the both of you some good.”

The tiefling eyed Astarion pointedly as she raised a mug of coffee and sipped, eyes twinkling with more than a bit of self-satisfied mischief.

Astarion clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair, feigning disinterest as he began to study his nails.

“You know, Karlach,” he began, flicking a speck of dirt from the tip of a finger. “For someone without a heart, you sure do seem to get invested in the romantic affairs of others.”

Karlach nearly spit coffee across the table as a boisterous laugh leapt up from her chest. She managed to contain herself, half choking and half coughing into her mug before she set it aside.

“That’s rich, fangs, coming from the likes of you,” Karlach giggled with good nature. “Honestly, I was just getting tired of the constant pining and lovesick angst between the both of you. For a pair of bloodthirsty murderhobos, you two are adorably dense when it comes to interactions that don’t involve stabbing something.”

“And for a professional killing machine from the hells, you are a hopeless gossip,” Astarion replied, shooting Karlach a sidelong glare before he glanced across the room to where Jaheira was consulting with a pair of Harpers as they studied a map.

He cleared his throat and pointedly did not look at the tiefling, speaking low for only the two of them to hear.

“Anyway…thank you. For meddling,” he said somewhat stiffly, though there was a timid genuineness to his words that made Karlach beam.

“Always happy to meddle, fangs.”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur’s gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #soft astarion #sweet astarion #astarion x durge #astarion x the dark urge #astarion x mc #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcanons #durgestarion

[linka-from-captain-planet]

post long drive brain dump: Florrick/Jaheira pre canon between BG2 and BG3, what forest is Jaheira the friend of perhaps the one Florrick is from, Jaheira is still mourning Khalid and Florrick isn’t sure what she wants out of life but it prob isn’t being a shitty ranger patrolling her ancestral woods forever, what if they had a brief but impactful fling

#technically this is fanfic #Florrick/jaheira

[galderthefuzzy]

The Tale of Myrkalfa Earthshaker

(BG3 Major Spoilers Ahead)

The Tale of Myrkalfa Earthshaker (BG3 Major Spoilers Ahead) begins in a way unlike most any other drow; in the light of the sun. Having abandoned the Underdark before even learning to speak, this child was shielded from Lolth's cruel embrace by her war-dancer parents for most of her younger years. At a tender age no older than twelve, she and her childhood friends were caught unawares by a drider in the forest, whose vile poison cost her nearly all those she held dear. Seeing the danger posed by her under-dwelling kin and their dark spider-goddess, the young drow made a vow to herself, to help nature reclaim balance in the world, and expunge all those who would seek to harm rather than help. Upon coming of age, Myrkalfa would grow into the Circle of the Moon, mastering the art of shapeshifting in accordance with the teachings of Elistraee as she spoke to the drow people: “A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow.”After escaping the crashed nautiloid, Myrkalfa would join forces with the charming evoker Gale Dekarios, as well as the fierce gith'yanki fighter Lae'zel and mercurial Sharran cleric Shadowheart.

By fighting shoulder to shoulder, and recruiting a host of allies with their valiance, they would travel from the hilt of the sword cost to famed city Baldur's Gate, slaying every evil in their path without heeding the call of the foul Emperor. With blade and sorcery, not a single epic opponent was spared their onslaught, from the immortal Ketheric Thorm to the undying Heart of the Gate. The Master of the House, the Murderer of Mothers, the Black Hand of Bane and his foul Titan Creation. In a single swoop of their combined might, four heroes did free this age of so many evils that they are honored still among the likes of High Harper Jaheira, Nerys Kathon of Kelemvor, and Minsc of Rashemen. And in so doing, found also the light within themselves, whether it be from the Prince of the Comet, Our Lady of Silver, the Mistress of Magic, or the bright wilds of the Dark Dancer.

Not a single tiefling life was lost for the actions of these heroes, and but an ally did fall in their fight against the Absolute. Friend Yurgir, in his zeal for battle, found himself poorly placed among the party's plans for Raphael. In so doing, he gave his life, the single friend lost to none other than fate itself. At their sides in the final fight though were Zevlor and his hellriders, Dammon and the owlbear cub, Rolan and the Arcane Tower, Dame Aylin and the cleric Isobel, Jaheira and her Harpers, Nine-Fingers and the Guild, Valeria and the City Watch, Duke Ravengard's personal guard, Florrick and the Flaming Fist, Halsin and Thaniel, the free Gondians, Arabella, Mol, the Gur monster hunters, Kith'rak Voss and his red dragon, Orpheus the Prince of the Comet, and Volo the Chronicler.In the end, Shadowheart freed her parents from the shadowy grip of Shar, instead embracing the Life Domain and the teachings of the goddess Selûne. Lae'zel saw the flawed ways of the lich-queen, choosing rather to follow the teachings of the fallen Prince Orpheus, and in their name, journeying to the lands of the gith'zerai.

Gale Dekarios, formerly Gale of Waterdeep, the Chosen of Mystra, became a professor of magic at Blackstaff Academy. Archdruid of the Moon Myrkalfa Earthshaker lived up to her namesake despite adopting a new surname, cleansing the shadowlands of Ketheric's taint and Shar's corruption and allowing nature's peace to flourish once more in Baldur's Gate. The parties were chosen to safeguard a Netherstone each. One with Shadowheart, always on the move. One with Lae'zel, beyond the cusp of the stars. And one with the Dekarios household. Those locations would seem obvious to some, but in truth, it is a dare. An invitation for the Dead Three, or any other force of evil to rear its foul maw again.

I had the pleasure to work on this piece for jæja. The project was quite exciting and very complex, but I have enjoyed every step and really like how it shaped up. As a fan of Bg3, it was quite a treat to be able to combine my stained glass style with some of our beloved companions. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you for commissioning me!

#fantasy #gaming #digital #digital art #digital painting #oc #bg3 fanart #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #shadowheart #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #commission #stained glass #stylized #digital illustration

[gemshroud]

I was thinking more about Entreri in BG3 and wrote this post in my head in bed last night lol

Ranking BG3 Companions By How Likely Entreri Would Be To Romance Them

Caveats: This has no bearing on rp if you write any of these characters btw, this is just for funsies. Also please understand that despite this ranking Entreri is most likely to just never fuck and I love that for him :) Withers vc: Thou art bitchless?

#1 - LAE'ZEL

Most likely to romance. He gets her and actually respects her a great deal. (Looking at the rest of the party) "Why are you all being so precious about this? She's right and knows more about mindflayers than any of us." Entreri would also appreciate the Act 2 love battle A Lot.

#2 - ASTARION

They're more similar than Entreri would probably like to admit. Bonding over sexual trauma unexpectedly breaks some of his walls. Neither of them know wtf they are doing but they will be ride or die about it, will screw over everyone else here and run away together if needs must. Murder husbands.

#3 - SHADOWHEART

They would probably have a weird little mutually antagonistic start because they're both mean and cagey and Entreri hates clerics. But they wind up having more fun in that rivalry than expected. Entreri also hates Selune for Reasons. It would start as appreciation for Shadowheart's competency but could easily become "oh no, I care about this strange woman's tragedy and want to see her escape her circumstances in a way that's uncomfortably familiar, oh fuck."

#4 - WYLL

Entreri's dynamic with Wyll would be so fascinating. Wyll is a lot like Drizzt. Entreri would deeply resent and chafe at Wyll's idealism and yet Wyll is skilled enough to back it up so... Oh! How Entreri seethes!! Wyll meanwhile is probably more amused than anything. Very much one-sided nemeses LOL Entreri vc: I don't know how to flirt with him so I have to declare him my enemy.

#5 - MINTHARA

Ngl his initial response to Minthara would be "I am not getting involved in more drow bullshit" which is fair. Perhaps surprisingly, he would also deeply hate attacking the Grove. He's actually not about unnecessary violence or violence just for the sake of it against ordinary people, and he probably relates to the tieflings on some level despite not really caring to help them. Go figure. However... Act 2 Minthara and onward... "There are no gods left for me"? He would vibe with that mightily.

#6 - KARLACH

Honestly he probably likes her a great deal, but perhaps she is too good for him LOL

#7 - GALE

He would get along fine with Gale if they actually talked but they probably don't. Entreri is probably mildly annoyed by him LOL

#8 - JAHEIRA

This ranking is mostly for Jaheira's disinterest tbh. Entreri probably respects her the most of anyone here. They would gossip so venomously and so beautifully together.

#9 - HALSIN

Similar feelings as with Gale - just kind of mild annoyance. Also Entreri has the carnal desires of a ball of lint so sorry, not really interested in climbing the bear man.

#10 - MINSC

Entreri hates this man so deeply.

Bonus:

RANDOM NPCS ENTRERI WOULD GET ALONG WITH (platonically):

Derryth Bonecloak, Mol, Madame Lucretious, Zarys, Gortash, Nine-Fingers Keene, Wulbren, all the little gnome terrorists tbh, Lakrissa, Grendel

RANDOM NPCS ENTRERI WOULD HATE:

Cazador, Volo, Kagha, Nere, Naaber, Dolly Dolly Dolly, Raphael, The Emperor, Ketheric Thorm (dad issues), Florrick, Ulder Ravenguard, the Underdark fish guys lol

#headcanons

[udaberriwrites]

It's FEMSLASH FEBRUARY everyone!!! 🎉🎉🎉

This is my first time taking part in this event, but I'm looking forward to it!

Following my current obsession I'm going to post a drabble every day of the month following the amazing prompts made by @ministarfruit in this blog.

It's also going to be all BG3, all ships from canon to rare to cracky. And as instructed, some of these are going to be EVIL 😈

I hope you have as much fun reading as I did writing. I will also be updating this list daily and I'll pin it to my introductory post 😁

Check out the AO3 collection here!

1. If only - Dame Aylin/Isobel; Act 2

2. Please be gentle - Lae'zel/Shadowheart; Act 3

3. Your life is mine - Arabella/Mol; post-canon

3bis. Your life is mine - Jaheira/Nine-Fingers; post-canon

4. Doomed by the narrative - Dalyria/Nameless victim; pre-canon

5. Hands for holding - Alfira/Lakrissa; Pre to Post canon

6. It still bleeds - Lae'zel/Shadowheart; House of Grief

7. Come back soon - Hope/Karlach; Post-canon

8. Living dead - Adrielle/Mayrina; Act 3

9. In the shadows - Alfira/Lakrissa & Dame Aylin/Isobel; Act 2

10. Love is devotion - Auntie Ethel/Okta; Act 1

11. Alternate timeline - Alfira/Lakrissa; Druid Grove

12. Karma - Jaheira/Nine-Fingers; post-canon

13. Goddess - Dame Aylin/Isobel; pre-canon

14. Before you go - Lae'zel/Shadowheart; epilogue

15. Haunting - Lady Jannath/Kerri; Act 3

16. Hourglass - Shadowheart/Tav; Lift the Shadow Curse quest

17. Weapons - Karlach/Lae'zel; during canon

18. Once upon a time - Dame Aylin/Isobel; pre-canon

19. Partners-in-crime - Arabella/Mol; Epilogue

20. Choose violence - Lae'zel/The Dark Urge; during canon

21. Fantasy - Karlach/Lae'zel/Shadowheart; Artifact cutscene

22. Anything for you - Hope/Original Character; pre-canon

23. Copycat - Karlach/Shadowheart; during canon

24. Plagued by the horrors - Karlach/Tav; post-canon

25. Your voice - Alfira/Lakrissa; Act 1

26. Apocalypse - Alfira/Lakrissa; Act 2 game over

27. Diamond - Francesca/Kagha; after act 1

28. Made you smile - Minthara/Florrick; post-canon

29. And then I found you - Lae'zel/Shadowheart; post-canon

#minifemslashfeb2024 #femslash february #bg3 fanfiction #drabble collection #my fics

[traceofexistence]

listen whatever Jaheira and Florrick have, it's very gay

#jaheira #counsellor florrick

[blackjackkent]

Continuing Rakha's explorations in Last Light - we wander into the last side room on the bottom floor and encounter a familiar face!

HI FLORRICK!

Rakha remembers the woman - an associate of Wyll's father, a leader in the city she has never seen - from the fire at Waukeen's Rest. Florrick looks considerably more put-together now, albeit even more grim. Near her on one of the inn's beds is a semi-conscious man in trousers and an arm sling, mumbling a strange, incoherent song to himself.

Florrick is in the midst of a conversation about the invalid with one of the Flaming Fist as Rakha approaches.

"He still won't speak. Just keeps going with the bloody song."

"Nothing of use on his person?"

"His original writ of duty - signed by Eltan himself. Fella must be one of the very first Flaming Fist."

"He must know something. Let's not give up on him yet." Florrick pauses, turns to look at Rakha as she approaches - then flicks her eyes over to Wyll.

"Florrick."

"Wyll?" Florrick looks troubled - and extremely tired. "Gods, please, no. The Blade of Frontiers was supposed to be my secret weapon."

(A/N: I'm legitimately not sure what she means here? Probably that she doesn't want him in danger here because she was hoping he'd help with the Absolutists back in the city? But that doesn't make sense because she was the one who told us to go after Ravengard out here in the first place. Perplexing.)

"We believe the cultists have taken your father to Moonrise Towers," she goes on soberly. "I don't suppose you've found a way in?"

"Not yet," Rakha answers. They have possibilities, certainly - particularly this Selunite that Jaheira mentioned upstairs. But no sure plan yet.

Florrick lets out a heavy breath and nods. "I trust that you will do everything you can to free the duke. But in case you don't find a way, I'll be heading to Baldur's Gate to seek reinforcements. The Council sent a carrier pigeon with news that the city has been dealing with Absolutist attacks. The Steel Watch is holding strong. I'll request that Lord Gortash send some of them to aid in the fight against Moonrise. The curse won't harm them."

Rakha goes still. She barely registers the comment about the Steel Watch - which means nothing to her. But that name...

Gortash.

She knows that name. Karlach has spoken it as well - the man who sold her to the Hells. And both times it has struck her like a blow. She doesn't know why. She has no memory associated with it. But she knows that name...

...and it makes her feel ill to hear it.

"Gortash, as in Enver Gortash?" Wyll is saying, sounding puzzled. "Last I knew, he was a minor player in city affairs."

"A lot's changed since you left Baldur's Gate, Wyll," Florrick answers. "Gortash has gained considerable influence since then."

Rakha finds that her mouth has gone dry. "Gortash," she rasps out. "That name... it's... sickeningly familiar..."

Florrick squints at her, clearly bemused by this reaction. "Lord Gortash is the man responsible for the creation of the Steel Watch. It's no wonder he earned the title. The Steel Watch are the future of warfare. Gondian automatons that can be sent into battle without risking any live - except those of our enemies. Lord Gortash had only completed work on the prototypes before Ravengard and I left for Elturel, but even they were formidable. With the Steel Watch at our backs, we could storm the tower whatever Ketheric throws at us, I'm sure of it."

Were this any other conversation, Rakha would no doubt be listening intently. This is information, important information; Florrick is describing machines of death that she means to bring in to fight at their side against the cult.

But she is barely listening - and despite the subject matter, neither is the beast in her head. Both of them are still fixated on that name, which echoes repeatedly within her at each utterance.

Gortash. Gortash. Gortash.

Who is he? Why does she know the name? Why does Florrick know him as a Lord - a title of importance, Rakha gathers - and Wyll know him only as a minor player and Karlach know him as a traitorous arms dealer? Why does Rakha know the name at all?

Florrick is looking at her, clearly expecting an answer, but Rakha is far too preoccupied to provide one. After a while, the Counselor just shrugs. "I'll do my best, but there's every chance I'll fall to the curse or the cult before I reach the city," she goes on. "Don't count on me, and assume no aid is coming. Work with Jaheira - that Harper's mind is as sharp as her blade. Follow her guidance."

She draws back and inclines her head at Wyll. "Farewell. We'll meet again, gods willing."

------

As Florrick turns with her guard to stalk out the door, Wyll looks at Rakha with some concern. "All right there?" he asks. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"I know the name," Rakha mutters. "Gortash."

His eyebrows lift. "You're remembering something?"

Her jaw works with evident frustration. "No. It's just... familiar. I knew him. I must have..."

He tilts his head, thinking. "Perhaps you were a politician, then," he says cautiously. "Since Florrick says he's climbing the ranks."

"I don't know." Rakha lets out a sudden hoarse growl of frustration and slams her fist against the mantel over the fireplace, startling one of the nearby Fist. "I don't know," she adds more sharply. "I am tired of not knowing, Wyll."

"Yeah." His eyes narrow sympathetically... but of course he has no answers to offer. "When she comes back with these Steel Watch, we can ask her further," he suggests. "Maybe she can track down something about where you came from. Frankly, where the city's concerned, I think Florrick's capable of just about anything."

"Perhaps."

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #oooooo durge stuff durge stuff durge stuff #also hi florrick #bjk writes her own party banter