illithidnapped | INBOX II

well I happen to be both if you must know.

technically.

but that's not the point I was making don't you dare change the subject and think you're clever!

A predator stalks prey. P R E Y. thematically? prey whines. it begs. it whimpers. it gasps in the dying throes of ecstasy with its nails dug in and its mouth open, panting sweet nothings in Tevene.

[Hold the fucking phone.]

what do you mean both

exactly what I said

I was a magistrate by trade before my death, and an adept one at that

[Editor's note: he does not actually know if he was good at it or not.]

when were you going to bring this up?

have you always known??

~~what the hell do~~

REALLY?

you??

what

WHAT DO YOU MEAN

'REALLY? YOU??'

[PRIORITIES.]

you promised to teach me how to pick a lock and break into a place undetected on the move back home

you kill people

routinely

a not insignificant portion of our income comes from your theft and our murdering bandits, and that's to say nothing of our turning in bounties

do not take it as critique, but you have to admit, none of that is particularly lawful, and none of it inspires me to think that "ah yes I know what he must have done in his past"

i assumed you were just a noble

i didn't know you worked

I___

[Err.

Well.

Actually that is a very fair point.]

Look. IF it was up to me in life I'm sure I would've skirted by eternally on wine and pomegranate seeds for about as long as it lasted.

I

assume, anyway. Considering I can't really remember. But that's not the point. The point is holding title in Baldur's Gate is tantamount to doing nothing.

It was only after my death I learned the art of subterfuge.

Thankfully, that won't be your lot.

Also come on now my love you've seen the law in every iteration.

Despite the etymology, there's nothing lawful about it.

[Does he faintly underline my love? He does. It's assuring, oddly enough, and sweet besides.]

i never doubt that it will not be my lot. you care for me too well for that.

and you say that, but you did not have to sit through 7 years of aveline complaining anytime hawke so much as thought about stealing from even the most ill-reputed merchant

when did you remember this? or have you always known?

[Gods, perhaps it's because he's ill, but this is so strange to discover. Not bad, necessarily. But it feels like a bigger deal than it likely is, given it happened two lifetimes ago.]

would you want the title back, if you could?

I care for you too well and yet you sabotage my efforts just as effectively with all your rolling and fussing and yowling for release.

[It's toothless, though, this time. More posturing than true performance; he's content. At ease. Smiling to himself in his patrols.]

Mm? The redhead? Oh gods. I don't even know how she ever rose to her position anyways. Nobility in Baldur's Gate would've had her embarrassed and deposed within a day for being oh-so-diligent.

I a

I wore it for a long time, actually. The title. I think it was convenient, in case some trace of me turned up inside the city, someone that might've known would've thought ah well there goes yet another thief or wretch impersonating a dead lord with a little bit of spellwork. Highblood gone and squandered for the sake of crude slumming in disgrace.

I suppose in that same vein, it's possible that that sense of rightness was manufactured by Cazador, but I don't think he'd be so sloppy.

[~~No matter what fandom insists thanks to cut storyline technicalities.~~]

[It doesn't hurt, exactly, to hear, for Astarion's gone through so much worse, and he won't thank him for pity. But call the small ache in Leto's heart a byproduct of how weak he is right now, bedridden and shivering up a storm as he reads and rereads those words.]

nor do i, if that means anything. it does not seem his style. though i am sorry he used it. that kind of cruelty does seem to be his style.

~~you~~

[No, don't be soppy. Leto frowns, annoyed with himself, and then:]

tell me what a magistrate is meant to do, anyway

for such a leisurely position you still have a remarkable grasp on how to argue in formal terms

do you actually go to school for it?

[He doesn't draw attention to it, neither of them are of a mind to entertain old ghosts alongside banter or wicked play, but gods know he's softer than silk for that admission. That consolation.

It does, admittedly, indeed seem his style.]

knowing the laws well enough to weigh in on them in terms of judging guilt or innocence at trial is a must. There are undoubtedly some who flunk out or take decades upon decades to pass the exams required, let alone (clever thing) the schooling itself. But honestly if humans can finish the whole course by the childish age of twenty five, it can't be that bloody hard, can it?

Hells. Bunches of toddlers in frocks.

[They are rather good at moving on, aren't they? And banter is so easy for it. Though Leto's handwriting is a fair bit messier right now; call that the result of having two fat pups sprawled inelegantly over his stomach and chest.]

and you, the gawky elven teen that presided over them all, all of sixty years old and so very dignified among them

I will not ask if you accepted bribes. I will ask if you still know any of those laws offhand, though. I should make you look at the contract for procuring the horse and wagon; you might have a better eye for it than I.

Insofar as Baldur's Gate goes? I remember all of them. [Fairly damning evidence against the Cazador as the sole catalyst, come to think of it.]

oh but see here now that doesn't make me your contract mule.

[Says the vampire who 1: actually does know enough to comfortably ensure any contract drafted is ironclad on their end and 2: happens to not want anyone else to do it.

But it's the principle of the thing. One can't make it easy. Or obvious for that matter: a songbird doesn't sing because it's told.

—it wants praise.

Lots and lots of praise.]

[After three years, oh, of course Leto knows what his beloved is after. He all but melts beneath praise, preening and strutting around with his chest puffed out, so starved for it that it's all he can do not to revel in it each and every time it's offered. And for Leto's part, he greatly enjoys giving it, for there's little he loves more than making his amatus happy.

So the praise will come, oh, yes. He'll listen to Astarion rattle off all the laws he knows and crow about all the ways in which he'll save them money when taxes come around (oh, that will be such a boon, and Leto will tell him over and over as many ways as he knows how). Even having him look the silly contract over now will be praiseworthy, for if nothing else, he can insure they aren't getting scammed; literacy is a long-conquered foe, but too much legalese leaves his eyes glazing over.

But he does so love to banter.]

oh yes it does

i share your bed, and that comes with consequences, up to and including your using your skills to aid me.

though if you'd prefer for me to take it elsewhere, one of the regulars at the bar offered to take a look at it. he's studying law.

[After three years, it is so easy to warm to their equilibrium in the language of a plant crawling eagerly towards sunlight: bickering and claws are about as fun as they are fine, but fasta vass, nothing ever quite hits in the tender little stitches of silence quite like the slow slithering of syncopatic rhythm. Push and pull. Give and take. Praise and price.

(But they do so love to banter.)]

hah!

when did you get so clever, anyway? I'm starting to feel as if the scrappy little fighter that I grew startlingly close to is somehow growing up far too fast.

[In other words:]

don't you dare take that backwater understudy's offer.

Edited 2024-05-18 02:53 (UTC)

i won't

not just because i wish to hear you explain contracts to me— but because he can barely remember his own name after two drinks. not exactly inspiring in confidence, unlike some

and i have always been this clever, patronizing thing. or is it my prowess in bed alone that's kept you mine and only mine these past three years?

[Oh he's preening already. Don't mind him.]

true. I always was capable of holding my liquor and my dignity all at the same time.

[There are tavernkeeps in Kirkwall that might remember differently, but they're not here.]

but you have always been uniquely smart, I'll give you that. Prowess and wits and all.

It's just that you don't tend to

m

hm

let me put it this way, your tongue is about as agile as your mind, but I can't quite remember you finding your way into manipulation quite so readily as this. And don't take that as a complaint. I like it very very much.

It just makes me think I'm rubbing off a little bit, perhaps.

That some part of me's become a part of you.

I would not mind that.

I would like it a great deal, actually. You have more than a few traits I would not mind learning or obtaining, whether deliberately or not. Whether it be your deftness with words or your ability to flirt, your cleverness or your manipulation . . .

They say couples become more like one another as they grow together. And if that's so, I am lucky indeed, to have you to emulate and learn from.

[And sometimes he likes to give Astarion something to not just preen about, but melt over.]

Flatterer.

I'll warn you, it won't make me abandon my search to find a healer worth their salt.

[The prickliest, most stubborn way to say 'I love you too much to let you suffer, no matter how much I want to be by your side.' That, and 'I love you.' 'I want more dearly than life itself to be there— not just tonight but always.' 'I've become more like you, despite my glaring flaws.'

And 'I'd be there in a heartbeat if not for this.']

Are you really wearing my silks?

well, never mind, then, I take it all back if you aren't going to take the compliment

[He's smiling as he writes it, for he can hear all those unspoken undertones. The whispers of longing and adoration, love not overpowered by devotion, but fueled by it. Everything they've whispered to one another deep in the dead of night, and it makes his heart ache to be reminded.

And that last question makes him laugh (even if it is a rasping thing).]

but no. i am wearing your clothes, but it's the cotton shirt you wear when you're feeling lazy. i did sweat through the first one, though. and the sheets are less than ideal, unfortunately.

Edited 2024-05-20 02:32 (UTC)

No no no I took them

I just also happen to be looking out for your best interests for some yet unknown and likely dastardly reason only waiting to be revealed in the third act.

[Oh.

Oh but that thought is....

Don't mind him, he'll just be here daydreaming about his amatus sweating and wearing nothing but a blouse while he waits for this clinic to open.]

Can't you kick off the sheets at least?

i have

i keep getting complaints about it

the pups have settled atop me and its' helpful at times but less so when i grow hot

[Stop, he keeps hearing grunted. Ugh, petulant and yet not particularly upset each time he forcibly relocates one fat sausage or another.]

fevers fluctuate

cold and then hot and back again

so i kick them off only to want them back soon enough

it's why i kept pushing you away and then clinging

Hot and then cold?

That doesn't sound right at all.

If you're not hot, then why would you be sweating?

Then again if you weren't cold why would you be shaking

ugh

mortal bodies are so particular

are you sure you don't just want me to bite you and be done with it? Bring you into the eternal night to be young and beautiful and feast on blood forever?

O B J E C T I O N!!!!!!!!!!!

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