Chapter Text
It called to you.
It called endlessly, begging for you to inflict pain and suffering onto those that were around you. It never quietened, uttering the repetitive notion of slaughter as it crept into your mind and clouded your judgement with visions of the beautiful deaths you could cause with just the intent. It constantly reassured you of your power, creating a newfound narcissism that bubbled up inside of you and slowly began to devour the morality you had only recently claimed. It would be a lie to say it didn’t feel good, sometimes the voice would show you what you could do to others with your bare hands, and gods did it feel almost orgasmic. Excitement buzzed in your fingers at such promises of pain, yet even despite all of the feelings that stirred at the sight of blood; you knew it couldn’t be released. You had to feign innocence and purity for the sake of those around you.
You sat next to the fire as it spat and crackled into the quiet evening, watching as Gale flicked through books with a hand you wished you had taken, it was so prettily enticing as his fingers graced the pages lovingly. You wondered if he would still be able to cast spells, or maybe the hysteria of losing something so important would drive him to mania and his ailment would leave him mentally incurable. Maybe Mystra would then have a better grip on him, and successfully plant him as her perfect suicide bomb to wipe out the Absolute; she did have a knack for taking advantage of the vulnerable after all. Unfortunately, there Gale sat with his hand still attached to his body, and you had already talked him out of the idea of blowing himself up; meaning you would never get to experience such unfiltered hysteria nor feel the pleasure of an exploded Gale splattered all over your flesh. It had become a disappointing reality when you faced it, staring back into the flames as you brooded on the fact that you could never embrace your urges and instead seek out a release of your frustrations in much… simpler ways.
His breath still lingered against your skin some days, watching as he worked the hand you so desperately wanted to tear from him- to defile and take something brutally and without remorse. His moans pressing against your flesh as he pushed himself against you, the two of you becoming one in a desperate attempt to keep yourself submissive to the notion of helping others around you.
Alas, you had made the decision to be fair, to be nice. You had helped the Tieflings, despite having to lose the companionship of Minthara. You did everything by the book, yet by doing so it had left you with nothing but bitter emptiness. You yearned for pure and carnal depravity, to take the lives of those pure and innocent and grant a beautiful death to those that deserve one. Such a thought kept you awake most nights, and you battled hard in trying not to succumb to the voice that told you to kill- to mutilate in its name. You remembered the night Astarion had sunk his teeth into you, the arousal from such pain making your fingers go almost numb. It was addicting, but even after receiving such pleasure you had to stop yourself from digging the stake into his chest, you still wondered what it would sound like. Would Astarion still beg for a life he could not bear to live in? Would he beg for mercy, or had he already come to terms that he would never receive such a blessing?
You watched the flames as they cast a soft orange glow over your skin, taking a sip of water as you wondered how comforting the fire would be if you could feel it against your flesh. Karlach was opposite you, and seeing her made you ponder on your influx of discussions on the topic of vices that Lord Enver Gortash had inflicted on her, how her undying loyalty was met with slavery. You comforted her, told her that she deserved to have her revenge, yet you couldn't help but feel your stomach knot at such a confession. It was brutal and depraved, a truly selfish act to commit onto another, yet you admired such a degenerate act. You had briefly laid your eyes on him before the disposal of Ketheric Thorm, but already his features had already begun to slip away in what was the dark pit of your mind. You wished you could remember something- anything, but everything before waking up on the nautiloid had been lost to you.
“I can’t believe that fucker is going to be an archduke, after everything i’ve gone through, he still gets everything he ever wanted!” You could feel the anger from Karlach, her loathing bubbling and spitting like the flames that engulfed her chest. It was interesting to watch, to see such an emotion displayed so clearly while she remembered all of the wrongs inflicted upon her by those she trusted most in life. Her entire life, ruined by the actions of one man, eternal servitude to the Archdevil Zariel of Avernus for the simple mortal desire of coin. “I trusted him, and all my effort was rewarded with nothing but chains.” She placed her head in her hands, “And to make it worse, I’ll die because of this damn machine Zariel put in me, unless we get it fixed!”
You watched Karlach have her little moment, bile settling in your throat as you reluctantly swallow your disgust and move the facial muscles to knit your brows together. “Calm yourself, Karlach. You will have your revenge, you will deal the killing blow, and you will crush every bone in his wretched body. Your machine won’t kill you, either, we’ll find more of that infernal iron and Dammon can repair you.” You knew she was too caught up in her own mind to notice your deception. Truthfully you did not care much for the Tiefing who sat opposite to you, her clear moral compass had served you well during your adventure so far as she would often pull you back from even considering taking part in some of your more perverse desires, yet now she was just plain annoying. There was also the factor that Karlach had begun to become more in touch with her past since your arrival to Baldur’s Gate, and with such a factor brought forward her endless whining on Lord Enver Gortash. Her endless ranting only fuelled the desperation to know more, to witness one so uncaringly selfish - along with the frustration that began to wove itself into your sinews and undo the careful stitchings of your praised humanity.
Karlach breathed out, soothing her flames of loathing as she looked over at you and smiled softly, “Thanks soldier, I won't forget all you’ve done for me.” She patted you on the back, and disgust flickered in the darkness of your eyes.
It was such a shame, but even still you wondered excitedly if the infernal engine makes a noise once it breaks.
-
Karlach was filled with nerves, you could practically hear her adrenaline filled blood being pumped through her veins. It was admittedly an erotic feeling, to feel how deep her passion and loathing were weaved into her tough and scarred skin. You’d look over to quietly voice your support, when in reality you’d watch the liquid flow through the veins in her neck and pay attention to the way her expression would change with each moment that passed.
Thick fabrics were draped over the walls, banners of the flaming fist hung in the corners while a red carpet strung itself out in front of the four of you and led all the way to the throne of Enver Gortash. You paid attention to each face of the person you passed, the urges calling you to take the lives of all of those who lived in such ignorant luxury. You wanted to mutilate them all, that thought all you could focus on in that supposed tense moment. You could hear their heartbeats as if you were some sick monster, thoughts clouding your judgement as you manually moved one foot in front of the other whilst the sound of screams filled your ears.
The walk seemed to last for eternity whilst you battled your own thoughts and perversions, blood mixing with adrenaline as you realised how close you were to reaching him. To see him. To taste him. You could hardly contain yourself whilst under such scrutiny, slowly moving closer to the one you were so desperate to reach.
“Stand down villain. In the name of the steel watch. Aggressive action will not be tolerated in the presence of the patriars of this proud city.” It scanned you, clearly preparing itself in case of a negative reaction. It was ugly and rigid, tacky in its intricacies as you looked up at it and took in the steel watcher that currently stood in front of what you currently desired most. You wondered if he had a part in its design, or if he simply capitalised off of the designs of others and paraded them around as his own.
Unfortunately, such aggressiveness would be fruitless in the span of things, putting your hands up in a fake act of submission. “I come in peace, I have no intent on being aggressive.” You looked up at it, pondering the violence such a machine was capable of
The machine acknowledged your olive branch blankly, “the steel watch appreciates your cooperation, citizen.” It moved out of the way, loud and heavy as its feet stepped off of the carpet and allowed you to continue moving forward to seek the audience of someone who you had already begun to crave in your darkest moments.
And there he stood.
“Kinspeople, baldurians - Friends. Thank you for joining me on this exceptional day.” He smiled, taking notice of your presence almost immediately as the four of you began to move closer to him.
You wanted to take him all in, peel back the skin and step inside of the man you knew to be the Enver Gortash. His nose that echoed a past of violence, paired with the fine gold that laid itself intimately around both his forearms and hands and embedded itself into his clothes. He was a fine display to unravel, wondering if such a clear sign of brutality was painted across his naked body; if his torso would be scarred and mutilated. Such a thought was enough to make your insides bubble with a carnal type of yearning that you had never felt before.
“It’s him, Gortash.” The voice of Karlach echoed through your imagination, the four of you pausing as Karlach came face to face with the one who had cursed her with such an existence. “This is it- I can practically taste his blood from here.” You could see she was preparing to do something, hand reaching to her weapon as her fingers brushed over the hilt.
You glanced back up to her face, bloodlust carving itself into her features in an admittedly beautiful display of pure loathing. However, his body was yours and yours alone to maim, so you extended a hand to make her stop. “Karlach, look around you.” You gestured to the ugly machine that was watching you walk away towards the Archduke, “They’ll kill you, and then us without hesitation. You’ll get your revenge sooner or later, yet right now is not the time.”
Karlach rolled her shoulders to try and burn off the urge to kill him, she shook her head but begrudgingly agreed, “So we bide our time, but make no mistake, that monkey is mine.” She sneered.
You looked away from her, you would not humour her any further as the blood screamed in your ears as you gradually got closer to him.
“A moment please, my friends - an old acquaintance has come to pay their respects.” He was repulsingly suave, walking down the stairs as he extended his arms warmly as his hips moved with every step he took. His eyes smiled with his mouth, and strangely the smile seemed rather genuine.
The Tiefling was unsurprisingly deeply offended by such a welcome, “My respects? You’re lucky I’ve agreed not to shove my boot up your-”
Gortash walked straight past her, his eyes locking onto you and never leaving as he smiled. “My favourite assassin. I’m so glad you have returned to my side.” He gestured towards you, his eyes continuing to twinkle softly as he spoke.
A wave of confusion washed through all four of you, Karlach the first to shatter the quick mounting tension as her eyes widened, “Hang on..” She looked from you then to Gortash, “What? You know each other?” She looked back to you once again, her look of confusion being matched in your own expression as you opened your mouth to speak.
“We have important matters to discuss.” His eyes continued to stay locked on yours, a smile creeping across his features. “My reunion with Karlach can wait.”
“Important matters to discuss with all of us?” You ask, wondering if he was simply trying to purposely create divisions within your team by uttering such nonsense. “Including Karlach.” You furrow your brows, yet it took all of you to not let your eyes wander down his torso.
Gortash’s eyes twinkled softly under the mop of dark hair on his head, “Oh, l'd forgotten - your memories are quite lost, aren't they? Orin told me she'd made a fool of you. To think you and Karlach travelled together all this time, and she hadn't the faintest you were one of my nearest and dearest. Let me clear up some mysteries then, it's about time, I think.” He continued to explain the plan to you, yet your memories continued to remain quite lost to you. “It was all going so well - until you vanished. Orin informed us that henceforth she would speak for the temple of Bhaal, and act on their behalf. But she - she made a mess of things. Unlike you, she cannot control herself.”
His praise fell on deaf ears, fixated on the concept of the power that had been taken from you. The name Bhaal echoed in your head once he had uttered it, making you grit your teeth in an effort to suppress the envy and anger that had begun to bubble inside of you. Gortash had spoken of your alliance, and you knew as soon as he admitted it that your relationships would crumble into dust, he had both given you meaning and taken everything away from you - quite fitting really.
Karlach interrupted the moment, “Hang on. What the fuck is happening here?” Sneering as the question fell from her lips, looking at either of you for an explanation she so desperately needed to hear.
Gortash didn’t look away from you, continuing to explain the plan that you both had thought of. “Next, the grand design. The mind flayer empire reborn.
If we're lucky, we'll become slaves. If we're unlucky, well-“ He paused, glancing away and breaking eye contact. “-a bleak prospect. But it's a fate that can be avoided if you and I renew our old partnership. Together we can still restore authority over the brain.” His need was revolting yet addicting, something flourishing in the deepest parts of you as you listened with the deception of shock carved into your features.
You tilted your head, not daring to glance over at Karlach as her anger threatened to engulf the two of you. “What kind of partnership are you referring to?” You narrow your eyes slightly, deserving more than a second-class title.
“There is an old wisdom: a brittle alliance can never be mended - it can only break. With Ketheric gone, Orin proves treacherous. She wants the nether stones for herself. She only cares for blood. And your blood and mine are of particular interest to her.” Gortash shook his head slightly.
“Get to your point.” You sneered, watching the nuances of the Archduke’s expression as you spoke to him.
“Orin changes shape faster than you and I change clothes. You know. She's tricked you before. She's targeted me as well. I'm well protected, but she's extremely good at what she does. If Orin obtains all three netherstones, she'll plunge the Coast into chaos and paint the city in blood. I can't let that happen. I want to lead this city to glory - not scorch its earth. So, I turn to you, the former ruler of the cult of Bhaal.”
“It’s going to take a lot to trust you, Gortash. Why would you offer us anything that doesn’t directly benefit you?” You crossed your arms.
“Let’s make our pact anew. a divine oath, sworn upon spirit and flesh. I do no harm to you, nor you to me.
Furthermore, you'll have nothing to fear from my steel watch while our pact stands.” He looked at you with his big brown eyes, a surprising need still dripping from his words - he’d get on his knees and beg you if he could. “Together we rule Faerûn as kings. No- more than kings - gods. We rule as the absolute.”
You would never share such a title, the urges yearning to take such a deal, yet with the condition that it would be you alone. The dead will rightfully belong to you. It will be yours to run, then it will be yours to ruin.
Gortash continued to give you that pathetic look, his brown eyes twinkling. “What do you say? Shall we be allies?”
No one spoke as you walked out of the building, the cool air calming the storm that was your conflicting emotions at war with one another. It was only then you realised that no one had even looked at you, turning to face Karlach as she seemed to move her head even further away from you. “Karlach?” You asked, knitting your brows together.
She shook her head, “There we have it. You were working with Gortash. You were a chosen of Bhaal. I guess you still are. I want to say it doesn't make sense - but it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? I should've seen it earlier. All the signs were there. I don't want to talk now. Give me time. A lot of it.” She walked up ahead, not daring to even look at you.
You grit your teeth together, annoyed at her self-centered way of thinking. It wasn’t your fault, everyone knew that you had no clue of your past, that everything and everyone you knew had been lost. You pause, looking back to try and talk to Gale.
Gale looked at you before sighing. “The tadpoles, the absolute.. is was all because of you? I think you've said and done more than enough. Leave me be.” He looked away from you, walking past you to catch up to Karlach and leaving you in the dust.
You looked back at the building behind you, a smile settling on your features as you fantasised about obtaining such tremendous power. You would take it, and crush all of your peers that had the audacity to look down at you.
-
You sat on the edge of the small pond, the moonlight glistening on top of the water as you pushed your bare feet into the firm ground. It had been a few days since Gortash had revealed what you had been doing before the nautiloid had taken you - or rather, whatever she had done to you. You could not even utter her name without bile settling in your throat, she had taken your place and caused the fall, usurping what was rightfully yours and worst of all leaving you incapable of savouring the pain you had inflicted on hundreds of people.
No one had dared talk to you aside from Astarion, but his nickname of “Bhaal-babe” rattled around in your skull everytime his eyes lingered on you. You would never lower yourself by talking to him, he was depraved enough already for your liking, and you refused to lower yourself any further by striking up a conversation with him.
You laid back, condensation that had settled on the grass brushed against the skin of the side of your face as you stared at the stars. It was a bitterly cold evening, no cloud in sight as the moon hung high in the sky.
Nearest and dearest.
His words were the only ones that had been keeping you company, working and walking in silence while the others laughed together. Yet, despite the newly crowned Archduke ruining your reputation and relationships, resentment wasn’t the only emotion that bubbled away under your skin. You needed to see him, to smell him, to be with him. The only thoughts that remained in that empty head of yours were the frightful fantasies of pain and the Archduke Enver Gortash.
It had been a difficult few days.
The evening air was cold and crisp, stars twinkling in the night as the full moon shone brightly. You stretched out into the grass, and admittedly it was nice to be in the company of someone who understood and equally cherished the intricacies of your own plan as it had been laid out before you, even if that was your own company.
You knew he was watching you, he was terrible at being fully stealth when it came to being around you. It was a quirk of his that you had yet to tell, listening as his foot pressed against the ground each time he took a step. It took him exactly three minutes to muster up the courage to sit down next to you, three days to finally talk to you again. You knew he’d talk to you first, of course he would - he was far too forgiving.
“I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me.” You sat up, only slightly turning your head to look at him. “I’m the reason we are in this whole thing to begin with- I thought you’d all be thinking of a plan to get rid of me.” You looked back out onto the water, a hint of sarcasm in your words. “I think you’ve said and done more than enough.” You repeat his words.
You watch his visible wince as his words are repeated to him, the man forming a line with his mouth as he thought on how best to respond. “Well-“ He paused again, biting the side of his cheek to coherently bring his thoughts together, “If you’re the reason we’re here and in this mess to begin with… I wanted to thank you.” He smiled softly, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. “I’ve made memories that I’ll cherish and- you’ve helped me overcome some challenges.” He looked out onto the water whilst his voice quietened at the last sentence, “And anyway, I can’t ignore you forever.” He shrugged, a simple gesture to end his simple words.
You didn’t respond, allowing the silence to linger and settle between the two of you. Why would you respond? The entirety of his strange monologue of forgiveness was boring and you were being blamed for the whole ordeal - you imagined it was more fifty-fifty.
You saw the question lingering on his lips, opening his mouth before closing in a minute gesture that you only noticed through the corner of your admittedly prying eyes. “.. how.. how are you?” He finally asked awkwardly, glancing back at you whilst he shifted in his seat.
“How do you think I am? It’s not everyday you find out that you’re the reason for the destruction around us.” Truthfully, you wanted to confess that it felt amazing to know that all this pain that had been inflicted had been from your doing. You wanted to celebrate, to indulge. Yet here you sat, talking with someone who could never understand the way you felt. “Plus you were all so quick to suddenly blame me even though Gortash was standing right there. Do you think that I was a liar? That I knew this entire time?”
“Of course not, but at the end of the day it was still you.” He nodded slightly before sighing “Despite all this- I believe in second chances, I think we all do.” He looked at you and smiled, the sides of his eyes crinkling as the warmth spread across his features.
You didn’t look at him for a few moments, biting the side of your lip in an effort to let out the frustration that you had. He had a right to be angry at you, they all did, but did you honestly care about what was right and wrong in this moment? You had given up trying to be civil, and your normally lousy attempt at relieving your frustrations was no longer suitable for the sheer level of frustration that had wove itself deep into your sinews.
Kill him.
The urges sweetly offered the solution, thick like honey as you swallowed your own bloodthirst. You could not look at him, the images flooding your senses as your fingers tingled in response. “Is that all?” You finally cough out, a knot forming in your stomach that begged to be untied.
The sounds of the rest of your campmates' laughter echoed down to the lake, irritation bubbling away and corroding your insides. “Did they even want you to come find me?” You turn to face him to see his expression, eyes dark.
Wrap your hands around his throat - squeeze.
Gale shifted where he was sitting, seemingly finding the mud hard and uncomfortable in that long moment. “Not exactly.” He cleared his throat, “I was intending to invite you back to my tent.” He cleared it again, glancing down to the ground next to you.
You wrapped your hands around his throat, slamming his head against the ground as the grass glimmered from the condensation catching the moon's light.
“I am sure they would let you back even if I did not ask.. it has already been a few days.”
His hands grip your wrists, pleading with his incoherent babbles that he appreciated you- loved you, even.
“Come on.” He knitted his brows together, “Come back to us.”
You cupped his warm cheek as his stubble pricked your calloused hands, he melted into your touch, eyes flickering closed as he placed his hand over your own. His crave for intimacy was deep and longing, his eyes still closed as you stared into his expression. “Only you want me back.” You spoke softer than you had intended, yet this sudden delicacy did not mean anything to you, you craved for the violence; that was your intimacy.
Gale opened his eyes, “Is that so terrible?” He asked absentmindedly.
You thought about Gortash. It was almost sickening as his face flickered against Gale, corrupting the man before you with the truth that you desperately wanted the Archduke to sit opposite you instead. You leant forward without hesitating, teeth clashing against teeth as Gale happily obliged. He climbed into your lap whilst you ran your fingers through his hair, grabbing the bobble that had been tied in his hair and pulling it out in one swift motion.
He groaned against you, pulling away to catch his breath as strings of saliva still connected the two of you together. Strands of his hair fell in front of his eyes, a soft glow from the lines that ran along his face.
You smile softly, running your fingers down his neck and to his collar, moving the fabric to the side as you listen to his breathing hitch every time you make contact with his skin. His heart was pumping quickly, blood flowing through his veins whilst adrenaline made him almost shake with need. You did not indulge him, looking back up to his expression.
Gale had his brows knitted together, the muscles tight as he moved his hand to your wrist, wanting you to touch him more, to indulge him in what he desperately needed.
“Someone might see us here.” You mused.
“We can always go somewhere more private.”
You tease him with vulgarity, “Unless that private place is me fucking you against a tree, we will have to continue this another time.” You straighten his collar before running your hands down his torso and resting them on his thighs.
Gale let out a shaky breath, yet his features only remained there for a moment before Gortash returned in his place. He did not talk as he stared down at you, only the whispers of your urges to further push you towards the limit of your frustrations. You had kissed Gale only to shatter the image of Gortash, but it was useless and frankly a careless action as you had to face the reality of what just took place.
You locked eye contact with him, his doe eyes shining in the dim light. Your hands gripped his thighs tighter as you looked away from him. “You should head back, I don’t think Karlach would appreciate seeing you in such a state with me.” You looked back to Gale, offering his hair tie back.
Gale took it awkwardly, retying his hair and kissing you softly on the forehead before climbing up off of your lap.
You watched him leave, frustrated and distracted as you tore at the skin of your lips with your teeth. You knew what you had to do to cure yourself of this hysteria, and the urges sang their praises in response.
You had to be quick. Stripping down to your thin underclothes to not bloody your usual clothing. It allowed you to retain your dignity whilst also being easy to get rid of once the deed had been done. You stood up, placing your shoes back on and heading towards the quiet yet still busy streets of Baldur’s gate.
It stunk, you hated every moment of it. The city was unbearably stifling and humid, every moment seemed to choke you and overtake your senses with the utmost repugnant smell.
You walked through the quiet alleyways, senses alert as you looked up ahead. Silence fell upon your ears, turning around to greet the person who had been following you since you stepped foot on the hard stone of the streets of Baldur’s Gate. You noticed the wooden board that they held in their hand, realising you finally noticed their presence.
“Hand over whatever you’ve got in your pockets- or I’ll-“
“You’ll do what? Kill me?” You cut them off, adrenaline beginning to flow through your veins. “I don’t think Archduke Gortash would allow such degeneracy in his purified streets.” You stepped closer to the figure, and you expected them to hesitate.
The impact was immediate, the board splintering against the side of your face whilst the other side of your head slammed against the hard floor once you had fallen to the ground. You twitched, and in that moment you could strangely feel your blood pool on the ground under you. You moved your eyes to focus unsteadily on the figure who loomed over you. In that moment you could feel both everything and nothing, caught between two realities as the blood trickled down from your nose. It felt good, the pain felt good. You wanted them to drive the splintered wood directly into your chest so you could feel the pressure drop and your lungs fill with your own blood. Arousal tingled at your senses as you imagined what would happen to you in the next few moments, how badly it would hurt.
They were young, younger than you had expected. They held the board shakily in their soft hands, survival resulting in people doing whatever was necessary in the harsh realities of Enver Gortash’s Baldur’s gates. You wondered if Gortash knew of such ways of survival in his city, if he had considered them in his grand schemes.
Your head hurt, it pounded against your skull whilst the figure knelt down to try and steal any of your valuables, pausing once they had finally released your lack of possessions and taking in a sharp breath through their nose.
Your eyes wandered down their torso before catching a glimmer into their large and scruffy coat, the blade strapped to the hip whilst the harness pressed against the flesh.
That was it. The red fog returned, yet this time you felt under water, senses muffled and alien to what was happening in reality. You could see what was happening, however it felt more of a dream that your own mind had imagined after finally falling unconscious from the attack you had suffered from only moments prior. You thought this was rather fitting, that your short memorable lifetime had been filled with hiding your true self, forced to be submissive and subservient to the fickle morality to those around you and face death in a filthy alleyway by someone young and will forget you in a weeks time.
It was over in a moment, a flash of red and a blink to reveal what had actually taken place, the soft gurgle from the body that slumped itself against the cold wall echoing sweetly in your imagination. It was almost too good to be true, digging your bloodied and broken nails into your skin to prove what was happening was actually real.
You shivered, wiping the sweat from your forehead and simultaneously smudging blood along your brow as you thought about what to do. You felt truly free in that moment, still clutching the murder weapon in your hands as you turned to where the urges compelled you the most.
You must take the life of Enver Gortash, then you will finally become free.
You moved quickly and without hesitating, still cautious of being caught even despite your heavily manic state. It felt good to feel so light, climbing up the walls with efficiency as fantasies of endless violence often made you slip and scrape a part of your flesh against the harsh exterior.
Your blood mixed with the victims, filth and sweat draped along your skin and you cherished it as if it was the finest of fabrics. You had earned this, you had been so good. So patient and well-behaved in containing your darkest impulses, the situation you found yourself in now was simply your prize.
You must take the life of Enver Gortash, then you will become free!
The voice again whispered into your ear sweetly, showering you in its carnal depravity and urgency as it repeated its command. You needed to see him again, fantasising about the moment the two of you would finally be alone together. You’d wonder what he’d do once he saw himself at your mercy, would he beg for his life? You thought not, he was far too sure of himself for him to do something so pathetic. Yet the questions still poured out of your imagination- would he like it if you pushed his dominance? Would he buckle under you? Would he shower you in gratitude if you crushed him under your foot?
Such wondrous fantasies again caused you to nearly lose your grip against the stone wall, furrowing your brows as you pushed yourself upwards and gripped the wood of his window frame. You could not say what compelled you to climb such a distance, fingers red raw from gripping onto the rocks of the outer wall. It felt good as your fingertips stung and throbbed from the pain that seemed to be far away. You wiped the dust on your shirt, pressing your feet against the cold wood and trying to blink away the bloodlust that pushed adrenaline through your veins. Your eyes glanced around the surprisingly small room, stepping forward onto the carpet as you took in each detail of where the man slept- it was truthfully incredibly underwhelming. The soft smell of vanilla and rosewood lingered in the room, closing your eyes to breathe it in before moving forward to find where Gortash was.
You wondered what you looked like in such a state, carnal depravity lining your sinews and mutilating you into the true monster that you were. Your hands were raw from clinging along the jagged rocks, cuts and grazes from both the climb and the futile attempt of defence from your previous victim. You could feel the heat radiate off of you, chest rising and falling as bloodlust clouded any senses that you may have once held, a puppet to the desire to maim. Blood fell from your body and dripped onto the wooden floor, looking down onto the small drops and taking in a shaky breath.
You found him lying on top of the covers of his small bed, the strings of his shirt undone as it laid messily upon his torso. Your breath hitched as you watched him, pulling out the dagger that you stole from your victim and straddling him. You felt the warmth of his body under you, taking in his musk that smelled of vanilla, rosewood and faint metal that seemed to cling to his body. You remembered how he smelled at his coronation before desperately blinking back the memories and gripping the dagger tighter in your hands to ground yourself. You held the cold blade against his throat, thinking for a few moments of whether you would grant such a ruthless tyrant such as himself the sweet release of a painless death - or maybe you should be more kind and allow him to choke on his own blood whilst you watched. You saw the scars of his face, the weariness of his skin, yet you lingered on how his eyes were so alive when he looked at you. You had never seen such a look from someone, he had looked straight through your facade and recognised the evil immediately. Bhaalspawn he had named you, how quickly your defence seemed to fall to dust once he graced your presence.
You moved the blade against his throat softly, leaning over as you continued to straddle his sleeping body. You couldn’t help but rock slightly against him, the blade shaking in your hands from a mix of adrenaline and excitement. However, even despite the yearning to see his organs that had, for the most part, remained untouched and pure despite the defiling of his outer flesh, you paused. You didn’t want to lose this man forever, he seemed to hold a piece of you that you had been searching so desperately for.
You remembered the way he looked at you with such fondness, how he so excitedly reminded you of your past. How Karlach brimmed with fury as she knew of your history. You wanted to stay with him more than the others, how his promises of ruling together were so convincing to your power-hungry mind. Maybe he was taken aback by your kindness and thoughtfulness to your companions. Maybe he yearned to be tainted by the true you.
“You’ve returned to me.” His words shook you out of your thoughts, his voice low and gravelly as his tired eyes looked up at you. He did not show one ounce of fear, his black hair messy and unkempt as he leant against the blade that was held only a few centimetres away from him. “Are you coming on behalf of Karlach?” His tone was inquisitive, “Although, I expected you’d allow her to have the final blow. Give her a chance to start monologuing.” His lips twitched as a ghost of a smile moved across his face.
His words were so careless, he thought so lowly of her despite their history and his clear wrongdoing. Here he was, in front of you and under your blade, yet all you yearned for was to take him right then and there, see if he’d continue acting high and mighty while you pushed him so far he’d begin to cry. You were being led to temptation with each moment you stayed in his presence. You should leave, go and wash away what you had done and then return to your camp and pretend you were normal.
“I was disappointed when Orin told me of what you had been doing, how you offered Ketheric a better way. How you were so merciful to him.” He smiled, leaning back to tease you with more of his neck. “I knew it was an act, the city has changed you, hasn’t it? It has forced your hand, I knew you’d crack eventually.”
You dragged the blade against his skin carelessly, watching as the blood dripped down his jugular. “I yearn to take your life, Gortash. Perhaps I could bring your nether stone back to the others and repair the relationships you took from me.” You watched as the trickle of blood ran down his throat, focusing on the contrast of crimson against his skin. You lingered on this moment, how his death would be entirely for you, utterly self indulgent and blasphemous.
“You are not appreciated there, they do not see your potential and power as I do. That is why I want you to rule with me, imagine the things we could accomplish- we’d be truly unstoppable.” His words enticed you, and such power only stoked the fires that were burning inside of you. “Be by my side, like you should’ve always been- like you were.” He knitted his brows together slightly whilst his pretty brown eyes twinkled.
You knew you had no intentions to work beside him, you wanted to be above him. You wanted to crush him under your boot and listen to his pleas of gratitude at your kindness. “What about the others?” That was the only question you could offer, trying desperately to stop your hips from subconsciously grinding against him. “How do I know that you will not sell me out like you once did to Karlach? Lord Enver Gortash only does things for himself.”
“Oh, please. We are more than that my dear. This plan was orchestrated by us, after all.” His eyes started to trail down your figure, noticing how you were covered in blood and only a thin layer of fabric covered your body. “I liked you- I still like you. I would be foolish to give you away like I did with her.”
You drew more blood with the blade, pressing and pulling it along his flesh as you heard his soft gasp of pain. It was an addicting sound, and you needed to hear more of it.
Everything at that moment screamed to take his life, to cut deeper and fulfil your legacy and free Baldur’s gate from such a terrible tyrant. Maybe Karlach would forgive you if you brought her his head. The sight of blood called forward the bloodlust once again, lights twinkling in your eyes as the silence was broken by Gortash’s breathing and grunts of pain that fell like the sweetest of music to your ears.
Suddenly, the man gripped your wrist firmly. He pulled the knife away from his flesh and sat upwards to kiss you. Teeth clashed against teeth as the sound of your kiss filled the room and you threw the dagger to one side and tore at his clothes in response. You had no reason to be gentle, feeling the fabric tear so easily by your hand as you pulled away and looked down at his now exposed body. A string of saliva still connected you, and Gortash gasped as he caught his breath. You listened to his ragged breathing and tried desperately to remember this, as if seeing his bare chest before you would undo this amnesia and return the memories of him that had been taken from you.
You soon realised that they would not return, and instead you decided to savour the feeling of his strong yet still enticingly soft body. You pulled your face away from him, saliva running down his chin as the room was filled with the sounds of Gortash catching his breath. Neither of you spoke a word to each other, your hand moving up to grab his hair and pull it firmly while the other man moaned in surprise. You paused to watch his adams apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, indulging in the concept of tearing open his throat and bathing in his life blood. Your teeth quickly found his flesh, the taste of blood coating your mouth. It was warm and metallic tasting, arousal reaching its peak between the two of you as you ran your tongue over the wound.
Gortash moaned and didn’t bother to quieten himself as he fell into his verbal pleas and cries for more. He repeated your name as he felt your teeth sink into him, knitting his brows as he panted whilst your mouth was against him. You thought of the formality between the two of you only a few days ago, the quiet unspoken need as Gortash remained as the Archduke of Baldur’s Gate. Yet now you had Enver Gortash under you, the man completely rejecting his status and formalities whilst he was under you. It would surprise you if it wasn’t for the fact that you knew this is all he wanted.
You pulled away from him again, muzzle stained from blood as you smiled at the man with his own blood coating your teeth. “Gortash-“ You broke the silence between the two of you as his name fell from your mouth, “Enver Gortash.” You repeated it, savouring it on your tongue in a way to tease him while you ran your fingers along his jawline and tucked his hair behind his ears softly.
You could see exactly what the man under you was thinking, his thoughts so easily readable while he lingered in such a vulnerable state. Every inch of his mind ached and pleaded to fuck you, to share your bodies with eachother like the old times and hurt one another without remorse. His thoughts were wonderful to see, such perversion had only been witnessed in your own imagination.
Alas, you would not grant Gortash your flesh, nor would you grant him the pretty orgasm his body was clearly in pain for. You enjoyed it when your partners were needy, and you knew that Gortash would become irresistible within his sexual frustration. You pulled your hands away from him, smiling sweetly at the other as the realisation set in with what was going to happen.
“Really? You have decided to play this game?” He asked, his pretty brown eyes reflecting the light from the candle that sat in the corner of the room. “We do not have enough time before the brain becomes too wilful and will destroy us.” He furrowed his eyes slightly, blood slowly dripping down the side of his neck from both the wound you had inflicted with the blade and bitemark, saliva glistening in the dim lighting. He continued to repeat himself, the reminder of how clouded his thoughts were, “We need to become partners again, like we used to before Orin-“
You silenced him with one look, “We do not need to mention her here.” You suddenly grabbed his face and pulled him closer, “This time between us is sacred, I would’ve thought that you wouldn’t dare to mention her.” You tilted your head softly, pausing in the moment before getting up off of the bed.
Gortash never took his eyes off of you, silent as he paid attention to each part of you. He wanted to remember you like this, bloodied and wild. He did not pose the question of whose blood you were covered in, deciding that he would simply find out in his morning report.
You leant down to pick up the knife that had been tossed to the side, staring at the blood that still covered the blade. “I’ll be back- and maybe next time I’ll finish the job.” You look back at him and lock eyes with him for a moment before stepping up onto the window frame and climbing back down.
You pressed your feet upon the ground, excitement bubbling in your chest from being so close to the man you had been aching for. However, despite your luck, there was still that dull tension that lined itself along your shoulders, you had not taken his life. The whispers dissolved into silence, and disappointment drowned each of your thoughts.
You could not hold under the weight of such clear disappointment, looking up at the sky whilst the stars twinkled and the weight of the blade became heavy in your hands. You knew what you had to do, and the swift adrenaline that replaced the shame meant that most importantly it was the right thing to do.
-
You stumbled through the camp, soaked in blood and gore as you hummed quietly to yourself. You had never felt more alive and free, wondering how quickly the news would spread of your massacre, wondering how the famed Archduke would tackle the unrest that would undoubtedly spread throughout Baldur’s gate by the morning. It felt wonderful, knowing that so much pain would unfold as your actions were discovered.
You walked to the lake, kneeling next to the water as you leant over and splashed water on your face. The water was cold, running down your features and forearms whilst the blood dripped into the pool of water beneath you.