Chapter Text
1522 DR
The first thing she remembered were the rats. Dead, on a stone floor.
Or almost dead. Their hearts still fluttering like rapid, frantic little drums in the otherwise silent chamber. The sound seemed almost aggressive, as if their dying pulses were trying to claw their way into her skull.
The next thing she remembered was the chamber itself. She had been thrown in.
No, no, it wasn’t throwing. Shoved, perhaps. But mostly she had walked on her own. One step in front of the next, unaware of where she was going or why.
Like a walking corpse.
The only thing she felt was the hunger. The growing, endless pit. A voice in her head, ceaseless and gnawing: feed, feed, feed.
Her teeth sank into a rat.
The blood that was usually just enough to coat her throat actually reached her stomach for once.
It was not a rat.
Words came back to her as sheer joy seeped down her tongue. But she could not bear to pull away to see what she was devouring.
"It’s already drained, you know."
A voice said. Something tried to pull the creature away, and she growled.
"Ugh." He groaned in disgust. "Enough of this! It's unbecoming."
Something told her he was right.
She let go.
The next time the voice came, it wasn’t a rat it gave her. It was big again and hairy, she realised as some of the fur got stuck in her teeth. She made a face but did not bother stopping her feeding.
She began to wait for the voice. Eagerly. Perched in the corner of the ceiling, she counted the moments until the door opened.
After what felt like an eternity, it did.
“Oh, goodie,” the voice came, dripping sarcasm, and this time she recognised it had a face.
A pretty face.
She thought before she heard the heartbeat of the big non-rat.
"Alright, that's quite enough of that. Come down and feed."
She didn't need to be told twice.
Words kept coming, or maybe they had always been there, but now their meaning came and stayed even after.
It felt strange, suddenly becoming aware of the world around her as it unravelled rapidly. As if finally sobering after a millennium spent drunk.
She was feeding, the feeling bringing that joy she never could get used to, when a thought surfaced. Before she could even make a conscious decision, she had released the tender neck and turned to the pretty face, staring decidedly at the wall.
"Couldn't you shave it? The hair is getting in my teeth."
His head whipped in her direction. His eyes went wide, his mouth slightly open.
"Oh, so now you talk, and the first thing you say are meal demands?" His voice went higher in outrage.
She had not thought it an outrageous request. So she simply tilted her head in confusion.
"Just...feed while it's still alive."
And so she did.
The cell had no windows. She could remember windows now, as well as a lot of other things she had known about all of her life. They did not come in order.
Some words eluded her still, others returned after some pondering. Their purpose, too, remained a mystery.
She stood, staring at the wall. She wasn't sure why. It felt right to face that direction.
It was the door, she realised. It had a handle. She reached for it when the voice echoed outside.
"Why in the Hells are you bothering me with this in the first place?"
"They are just as much your responsibility as they are ours, brother."
"Oh, I'm very aware of that. But surely even you can admit my talents could be of better use in the office rather than here."
"We need every hand here now. Do you not want them out faster? Besides, your talents are what got most of them here in the first place."
A growl echoed in the other chamber.
"It is not my fault, Petras always failed to deliver."
"Enough, Astarion. You’re just wasting more time like this.”
Astarion. That was the pretty voice.
The door opened. Her eyes met his at an almost even level. He startled briefly but calmed when he saw she wasn’t moving.
In his hand, he gripped a horn, dragging a creature on the floor beside him.
Her gaze shifted to it almost immediately. It was surprisingly hard to look away from Astarion, even despite the hunger.
He sighed, pulling it fully into her chamber and dropping it to the floor.
“Go on, then.”
She fell to her knees, her teeth sinking into the pulsing, hairy neck.
He turned, his steps heading back to the door when she pulled away from the creature once more.
“Thank you, Astarion.”
He froze. Unmoving by the door for a long moment. Then his steps resumed, and the door slammed behind him so hard the hinges rattled.
The next time the pretty face—Astarion—came, he lingered. Stayed until she finished eating her fill. Sometimes he did this and then dragged the corpse away. Sometimes he didn't, and it would start to smell.
She was glad he stayed to take it away this time. But he didn't reach for it. He just stood there watching her intently.
"Do you like your cell?" he asked, then seemed to cringe at his own words.
"No," she said, though she wasn't sure why she didn't.
“Would you like to go out of here?”
The concept hadn't occurred to her. But now that he'd said it, she felt a terrifyingly intense desire to leave.
“Yes,” she rasped, still shaken by the force of her own emotions.
“If you want to go out, you have to do exactly what I tell you.”
“I will.”
“Very confident, darling. Alright.”
But he didn't take her out. He just took the corpse.
The next time he came, she ate in silence until he unclipped a chain from around his waist.
He closed the cuffs at the end of it around her wrists when she was done. She stood but did not follow as he stepped into the corridor.
"Well? Are you coming, or should I close the door?"
She hurried outside after him.
He was focused on a long list. Others filled the corridor, some of them also chained.
The air was thick with the smell of unwashed bodies, old blood, and something like mildew.
“Wait here,” he said, pointing her toward a line with the others.
She obeyed, but not without some unease. Everyone seemed on edge, and it made her feel on edge.
The person next to her looked sad. Incredibly so. He didn’t even move when she settled next to him. He was dirty, his long hair plastered to his skull, coated in things that did not smell good.
It occurred to her for the first time that she must be dirty, too.
What did she look like?
She tried to glance around, but the hallway was dark and offered nothing reflective.
Her hair made an impression on her for the first time, gently brushing her hips.
It looked messy…
She tried to run her fingers through, but couldn’t. She couldn’t explain why that made her so sad.
“Alright,” Astarion moved to three people in front of her. He took a man's chain and handed it to a woman standing beside him. "You're going with Dalyria."
He did this several more times, calling out different names, before finally reaching her chain.
Excitement filled her at the prospect of finally asking him about her hair, but then he passed her chain to a blonde man beside him. He didn’t even look in her direction.
“You’re going with Petras.”
She didn’t fully understand, but then Astarion was walking away.
“And you’re coming with me,” he said to the man next to her.
She was about to say something when the man beside her spoke for the first time, startling her.
"You..." It was quiet but deep, like stones grinding together.
Suddenly, he lunged, hands stretched out towards Astarion. The wrapped around his throat with ease as his back collided with the wall.
“You did this to me!” He pulled him forward before slamming him again. "You took everything from me!"
The other unchained ones, including the blonde one holding her chains, rushed forward, trying to pull the man away from Astarion.
He struggled but let go quickly under their strength, then slid down defeated on the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Astarion gasped once, twice, rubbing at his throat before regaining his composure.
The hallway fell silent as a grave.
Then Petras spoke, breaking the awkward tension.
“I’ll take that one, then. You can take this one.”
Astarion’s head whipped toward her. He looked afraid, his eyes filled with a silent panic before anger overtook it.
“Really? After what just happened, you’ll just send me off with—” His jaw clenched. He didn’t finish.
“We don't have time to sit here and cherry-pick them for you, brother,” one of the women groaned. “Just take her. You said yourself she's docile enough.”
“Fine!” he bit out, grabbing her chain with a trembling hand and storming away with her stumbling behind.
He did not want her. She did not understand why, or why the thought made her so disappointed.
He had been nice to her. He had brought her food. She thought they were… what? She was not sure.
He didn't say anything as he led her through long, winding corridors. The chain rattle was the only sound they could hear after a while. That and their footsteps. Mostly hers. His were so silent. She looked around curiously at first, but there was nothing to see, only darkness, bricks, and damp.
So she stared at his back instead. He wore a grey shirt that might have once been white. It seemed comfortable, thick, but not enough to hide the tension he carried in his shoulders in that moment. His muscles shifted as he walked, almost hypnotically.
And then there was his hair. It seemed to glow even in the dark. Curly, so very curly. It was…cute. It was clean.
She leaned closer, just shy of touching him, and inhaled right where his neck met his shoulder.
"What in the Hells are you doing?!" He hissed, jumping away and yanking her chain so hard she nearly fell to her knees.
"You do not smell," she said in wonder. "Well, you do, but it is… nice." Like citrus and soft spices. Like something alive and kept.
He looked at her like she'd sprouted a second head. His eyes swept over her form, assessing and suspicious. When she didn't move from her half-kneeling position, he tsked unhappily.
“Yes, well, I can't say the same about you. Come on, you need to bathe.”
She straightened, and he pulled her after him once more.
As they walked, she began to notice a shift in the light. It would be a stretch to call it light exactly, but it felt brighter, shifting from complete darkness to a bluish hue. The shapes were becoming clearer, the forms more distinct, and the bricks slowly gave way to solid rock.
Astarion took a turn, still with her in tow, and suddenly the corridor opened to a vast, expanding cave.
On its walls, glowing formations bloomed in every shade of green, blue, and purple, illuminating the space. In the center stretched a lake of pure black, reflecting their light back up.
Her eyes stung, and she fought the urge to look away from the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.
Astarion dragged her stumbling feet all the way to the shore before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a tiny yellow brick, and thrusting it into her hands.
She lifted the object to her face, and its scent hit her nose. Citrus and soft sweetness.
She opened her mouth.
"Oh, for gods' sake, don't eat it! It's soap."
Embarrassment colored her cheeks. But who could blame her? It smelled amazing.
So she just held it. Expectantly. Staring at Astarion.
A moment passed. Then another.
The awkwardness stretched. Well, for him. She was fine just being there.
"Well?" he asked impatiently, shifting his weight onto one leg and pushing out his hip.
She followed the movement with her eyes but did not do much else.
"What are you waiting for? Now's your chance. Go and bathe."
“Oh. Right.”
She walked uncertainly towards the shore until her toes touched the black water. She was supposed to bathe in that?
It didn't look particularly clean, especially with a bone floating mere metres to the left.
She looked back at Astarion. He just stared, irritated, and gestured for her to go on.
If he said it was okay, then it must be okay. She sighed and started to undo her sash. Once it fell to the ground, she reached for the laces of her dress. She didn't realise she was doing it. It was pure habit. Up until this moment, she hadn't realised her dress had laces.
Her hands couldn't reach them, bound by the chain.
"I need help," she said, half-turning to him and gesturing at her half-unlaced back.
His eyes narrowed, but he moved closer wordlessly. He stood behind her, his breath fanning against the bare skin of her shoulders. It felt oddly pleasant. Warm against the contrast of the cold air around them.
A click echoed, and she felt the weight of the chains slip from her wrists.
"Don't try anything. You won't live long enough to regret it."
His voice half-whispered, half-hissed, still warm against her back.
Then he pulled away, leaving her cold again.
She turned to find his eyes locked on hers. Intense, cold and distant. She preferred him when he brought her food.
She unlaced the dress fully, letting it slip off her frame and pool at her feet. His eyes never left her face, not even when her undergarments followed.
With a sigh, she moved forward and dipped her toes in the water.
It was warm. Welcoming, like an old friend's embrace.
She sank into it willingly.
She couldn't see the bottom, even when submerged only to her waist.
A feeling like déjà vu filled her. Like she'd been in dark muck before. Long ago. So distant it felt like another person entirely.
Her throat closed up. An overwhelming sadness clawed up her chest, but it had no source. She couldn't remember why she had to be sad.
She shook her head, trying to brush it off, but instead the noise in her head grew louder, like whispers merging into a high, thin tinnitus.
Without thinking, she crouched, submerging herself fully in the water as she hugged her knees.
And just like that, it all stopped. The world descended into blissful silence as the darkness engulfed her. She let herself calm down, swayed by the warmth surrounding her.
When she finally opened her eyes, still beneath the water, the first thing she saw were bright yellow orbs staring back at her.