illithidnapped

...you never asked? Never actually found out why she killed him?

[Difficult as it might’ve been to talk while tracking one another down time and miserable time again— or if they’d come to blows, even— but they’d fought here. Seen each other here. Promised mutual civility, even.

And yet.]

It doesn’t matter why.

[She almost snaps it, despite what she just said, despite the evidence of doubt. This comes from pain, and no little bit of fear.]

He’s still gone. She still had him for hours in that fucking lodge.

Edited 2021-10-30 15:26 (UTC)

[For a while, he’s quiet. It’s not solemnity or respect, he’s simply thinking. Because it’s true, of course, suffering is suffering— and Astarion’s never dealt in forgiveness.

Or forgetting.]

If the rifts gave him back, do you think it’d change anything?

[It’s not a kind question, but Astarion isn’t kind. Wild as he is, domesticated only by fondness and only just at that, he can’t help the jagged shape of his own thoughts. Sharp as glass, insatiably curious.

She granted him the gift of her memories.

He wants to know what it was like.]

How you feel. How much it hurts.

[It doesn't occur to Ellie to be hurt by the question; he sounds like the inside of her own head more often than not. He asks the questions out loud, and his unwillingness to handle her with kid gloves is sorely needed.

She wants to nurse her hurt like Joel did, but she can't. And Astarion is helping to make sure she can't.]

... I don't know.

[It's both a truth and a lie, and she sits with that answer a moment, trying to think it through.]

If she hurt him again, or tried to, I'd kill her.

[She says it softly, coldly. A little detached.]

Oh, darling. I doubt Riftwatch would stand for it if she tried.

All it took was one person barking across the network and already they’ve got Emet-Selch shut away in the Gallows under watch.

[No, it’s only Ellie that Astarion worries about. Her tipping point. Her security. Maybe her happiness, too, if that sort of luxury can at least find purchase in a place like this.

And while she might not have much to call her own now, she has him.

He likes to think he’ll make it count.]

Maybe, but it's not Riftwatch's problem to deal with.

[Ellie goes quiet then, thinking. Emet-Selch isn't a situation they've talked about, though she knows that Astarion's talked with him before. So has she. He didn't seem like a particularly bad sort, even if she can't say that she knows the whole story.

Then again, Ellie has a history of loving people who aren't good. She isn't particularly good, herself.]

If they locked her up, they'd have to lock me up too.

[The very thought makes her scoff under her breath.]

That's never worked out real well for anybody.

No one is locking you up. [The edge to his voice— wild and growling— only lasts as long as he makes that promise. Once it’s gone, he sounds exactly as delicate as ever.]

But all hypotheticals aside, do come back safe, won’t you.

At least not missing any more fingers or toes.

[It doesn't scare her. If anything, something swells in her throat, blocking out her breath for the moment.

She doesn't know what to say, how to respond. How to communicate how much his fierceness means to her. She doesn't need him to fight for her, but the fact that he would means so much.

So she just closes her eyes for longer than a blink, looking at the motes of light through her closed eyelids.]

Planning on it.

Good night, Astarion.

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