Chapter Text
As soon as the doors had opened, Karlach had quickly measured the man standing inside, then proceeded to scan the room for any signs of threat. Her face was impassive, focused. Still, as soon as she was sure nothing would immediately come to harm Gortash, she had to try her best to hide her confusion. Why was such a pompous high elf dealing with the likes of Gortash?
For sure, recently her boss had been dealing with fancier types, but that was a first. She’d never seen nor heard of the guy. …Not that she minded seeing him then - the man objectively made quite the pretty sight - but that was beside the point. When it came to protecting her boss, Karlach was nothing if not strict, professional. It was what had kept Gortash alive so far, and she’d be damned if she wouldn’t keep that score for the rest of her life.
Accustomed to her role, Karlach silently took her usual position as part of the furniture, leaving Gortash and his fancier-than-usual guest to their dealings. Her body never fully relaxed when he met someone, though - ready to pounce on anyone who so much as lifted a finger against him.
Karlach observed them discreetly as they danced around one another with steps she’d learned to read for what they were - two ambitious men circling and measuring each other, trying to see who could swallow who, while masking it as etiquette.
It had been quite amusing at first when she started working for Gortash. He would sit with her after his meetings to patiently explain what was really behind the honeyed words and gestures. He didn’t seem to do so with anyone else, as if Karlach was somewhat special. Gortash would often praise her -even pat her head on occasion when she was younger (and shorter), then even more rarely her shoulder - when she learned to figure it all out for herself. By now, she knew this shtick by heart and, if she was honest, had seen it all so often her brain could melt right then and it would’ve been a blessing.
The tiefling turned her mind off for the time being, letting the men’s words sink but not stick, keeping her muscles hyper aware in case she needed to act fast. Associates, high magistrate. ‘Wow, little fancy bastard.’ Long lifespan - ‘Lucky prick, I guess’., The Zhentarim and the Guild - ‘Ugh, will I need to deal with them again?’ Karlach, come over - ‘Yeah sure- wait, what?’
She unglued her eyes from the air ahead to look at Gortash, who was turned to her with a confident smile she knew meant he had a plan. Did she miss something? Did she need to put this guy down? But they seemed to be getting along just fine…?
Her boots seemed stuck to the carpet, but Enver Gortash’s commands were what she lived for, and soon her muscular legs were moving, her body approaching the seating area. She was unable to avoid glancing over in obvious confusion at the pale elf sitting across the table. At least he too didn’t seem to be in on the plan. Good. She stood at attention beside Gortash and resumed her guarding stance.
“My dearest Karlach, meet Astarion Ancunin, high magistrate of Baldur’s Gate.”
‘Uh… The fuck?’ Karlach barely registered the name as the stranger was introduced directly to her - that didn’t happen without a previously agreed plan. ’…Maybe I do need to beat the shit outta him?’ She blinked a couple of times.
“Karlach. Starting tomorrow, you work for him”
Silence.
It took a moment for the order to sink in her brain. To be registered and re-checked a few too many times. There was no room for interpretation.
“…What?!” All poise was gone in a second as both the tiefling and the elf’s gaze snapped at Gortash.
Karlach’s yellow eyes were as wide as saucers. She almost looked like she was about to strangle Gortash - almost.
“Come, my dear.” Gortash patted the seat beside him with a hand with too many rings. “Have a sit.”
Across from them, Astarion had managed to contain his emotions much more expertly. Still, his sparkling silver gaze was piercing Gortash right in the face, and his raised eyebrow was enough of a question. He remained silent, rigid, waiting for any sort of logical explanation - or, rather, a correction saying Enver had misspoken.
“Boss. What the f-” for a second Karlach forgot she had to try to pretend to know good manners.
For a while before he managed to move into the Upper City, Gortash had his entourage practicing etiquette. Karlach was particularly awful at it. At times, Gortash had found it endearing - but he sure as hell wasn’t looking fond of her now. Enver’s dark eyes were more than enough to silence her.
And then, it only took one raised eyebrow and the slightest drop in the curve of his smile to have the woman sitting beside him exactly where he’d patted the cushion.
Gortash let the awkwardness sit in the air for a moment, seeming to relish in it. He then relaxed back on the sofa and gestured at Astarion, his golden rings blurring as his hand moved between the two. “Karlach here is my best asset. She’s been with me since she was what… 14, 15?”
“…Thereabouts, sir.” Karlach had her eyes turned to her boss, wide and, as he continued, with a growing pleading expression. ‘He couldn’t… could he?’
“Hah. A mere babe!” He added, glancing sideways at his bodyguard. “In the past 5 years, she saved my life more times than I can count. She is fast, strong, ruthless.” An almost manic excitement leaked into the last word. “But more than anything, she is trustworthy.”
Enver’s black gaze pierced Karlach’s golden one, and shone with a mix of malice and affection that the young woman couldn’t have recognized then. She could only feel a knot in her throat, an unavoidable burst of emotion at the pride he seemed to feel towards her. Her cheeks felt warm, her eyes tingled, and she fell silent, tamed for the moment.
“How…” Astarion’s silken voice broke the moment between the two. His eyebrow had remained raised - it was starting to hurt, so he changed to a slightly furrowed brow. “…endearing, Enver.” He crossed his legs, one knee over the other, and took a more relaxed although still proper stance, mirroring the confidence of his host. “Oh, but I wouldn’t dare make you part with such a loyal follower. Besides, I have no use for a…” ‘tiefling brute’ He placed two fingertips to his pouty lips, then twisted his wrist in Karlach’s direction. “…her.” The disdain was quite explicit.
In a split second Karlach snapped her neck to face the elf. If her eyes could kill, he’d be spilling his guts all over the sofa. The motion was so sudden, her eyes feral, that Astarion couldn’t avoid flinching. One pale hand immediately pressed to his left hip, feeling the concealed blade.
“Hah!” A chuckle broke the sudden tension. Gortash put a hand on Karlach’s shoulder and squeezed it. His thumb doing the smallest of caresses on her back.
The rare touch had the tiefling’s attention immediately back to her boss, her expression back to expectant and pleading.
“She is quick, isn’t she?” Gortash seemed to admire Karlach for a second, as if she were one of his prized inventions, a precious item carefully crafted by his own hand. He turned his knowing smile to his guest once more. “Believe me, dear Astarion. Once our plans are in motion you will need her. Whether the Guild or the Zhent figure out our association or not, they will target us both just for the sake of sabotaging.”
“And your discreet solution is to place this very inconspicuous red tiefling as my shadow? If they don’t suspect our association by then, they will find out quite quickly.” Astarion swallowed when said tiefling’s eyes once again narrowed in his direction. “I have no doubts that she is exceedingly loyal to you, Enver. Unfortunately that does not mean much to me.”
“Nonsense.” Gortash dismissed his concerns as if they were completely unfounded. “Karlach will keep you alive if I tell her to do so. She’s the only person who’s never failed me. And, as long as there is plausible deniability, my friend, these lower groups won’t touch us - openly. I am known for… subcontracting personnel, after all.” His grin was razor sharp. “We both know even if the Zhent and the Guild are deaf and blind, they will catch up when the merchandise starts changing hands. And when they do, so will the Knights of the Shield.”
“…” Astarion sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He already knew, of course. Still, dealing with that particular group was… unpleasant.
The old order had a track record of finding it quite offensive to have their power-hungry toes stepped on. One could only imagine how much worse it could be when the one doing it was a self-made newcomer like Gortash.
Even though Astarion was confident he had enough connections to remain safe from any real harm from either the Zhentarim and the Guild, the Knights of the Shield were another matter entirely - particularly after rumors started going around about a mysterious figure ridiculously named The Emperor.
Astarion assumed his chances to avoid the Knight’s animosity were higher than Gortash’s. But, even unlikely, there was still a risk. There was something deeper within the secretive group that was impossible to crack, and it made them quite hard to manipulate.
“But never worry. I will have a truce with the Knights in time. However, until then I wish nothing more than for my newest and most treasured associate to remain as perfectly unharmed as he is now.” Venom dripped like honey from his lips.
“Why, I am almost flattered by your concern for my well being, Enver.” The elf ignored the wolfish tone in Gortash’s voice. The man was vile. “Even if the Knights are tickled, I am quite certain I can take care of myself until you move your pieces on the board, darling. You do know I have lived at least 5 of your lifetimes, don’t you?”
“Oh. I hear you almost didn’t live even one, Astarion.” Gortash’s eyes suddenly got blacker.
The elf froze for a second. Then throttled the man with his sharp gaze. “Pardon me?”
Gortash seemed to delight in his discomfort. “Oh, spare me. Your attack is hardly a secret. Though it did take some digging to uncover the culprit.”
Astarion’s eyes seemed to burn, flecked with gold. He held back a hiss.
“It has been centuries, after all. Ancient information is particularly expensive to get.” Gortash cocked his head to the side, his bangs partly covering his sunken eyes. “Astarion… How do you think I got to where I am? Hard work? Why, yes, of course. But you know better than anyone that effort isn’t nearly enough to raise an enterprise like mine.” He was slick. Condescending.
Enver crossed his legs, one hand running through his black hair. “Don’t mind me knowing open secrets. Mind when I say you will need protection. Maybe not now, but soon. And I know of no one better than this woman to make sure your head stays stuck to your neck when that’s come to pass.”
Astarion was seething. His ears pointed tensely backwards, his jaw clenched, his eyes sharp like blades. He glanced at Gortash’s bodyguard again. It was preposterous. The woman looked panicked, as reluctant to accept the idea as he was. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Enver. Why would you let go of your fiercely loyal bodyguard now? I gather you also need to remain… undecapitated.”
“Hah. I do, indeed. But I will be… away for a period of time, and won’t need to worry about such trivial matters again if I’m successful.” He raised a hand at Karlach when she opened her mouth to argue. “And no, dearest. You won’t be accompanying me this time. I promise you, though, I will be in very good hands. I won’t let all your effort through the years be for naught.”
Astarion had not felt anger like this for a very long time. He knew Gortash had no morals, but bringing up the attack felt low even for his standards. Astarion knew he was a hypocrite to feel offended, but the smugness in the other man’s face made his blood boil.
What did he know about who orchestrated the attack? Astarion knew he would not be getting an answer out of Gortash unless he wanted to tell him - only if he somehow got an invaluable bargaining chip. Once more, the elf’s eyes slipped towards Karlach. She still had her cat-like gaze wide and glued to her adored ‘boss’.
Astarion was well aware that Enver Gortash was a selfish, corrupt and power hungry man. It was why they’d crossed paths, after all. He was learning, though, that he was also obscenely, disgustingly, cunningly abusive.
He glanced at the hand Gortash kept firmly curled on Karlach’s shoulder. He could see the circular slow motion of the man’s thumb as he caressed her. For some reason, it almost made him gag. Astarion may have had no sympathy for street urchins, orphans or whatever else the woman might’ve been, but even he recoiled seeing the oily, tight puppet strings strangling her. It was time to leave. The conversation had soured his morning.
“Your dearest Karlach seems as eager to change alliances as I am to hire her, Enver.” Astarion stood up, needlessly adjusting his perfectly fitted emerald tunic. “Even if what you say is true, I still see no point in a bodyguard that is less than thrilled to keep me alive.” He looked at Karlach for a longer moment. Her intense yellow eyes were on him. ‘… Like a cat’s, indeed.’
Astarion shook his head, silvery curls softly moving, then looked at the man. “Our contract stands. However, I’m afraid I won’t be taking your beloved tiefling from you. You’re quite welcome.” As poised and intentional as he was at the start of their meeting, Astarion made the slightest of bows before walking away. “I will see myself out. You know where to find me, Enver.”
With almost silent steps, the elf was soon hearing the double doors click shut behind him followed by a loud female voice throwing all sorts of creative expletives at her boss.