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[illithidnapped]

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[illithidnapped]

[Far worse he says, and though it might not be intended, the words themselves inevitably make it sound as if Danarius' atrocities were but a drop in the bucket compared to Cazador's.

They aren't.

For a moment the weight of the world rests within the interlocking of their fingers, heavy as the lidded shadows of their pasts. All examined. All retraced nearly a thousand times over (with no doubt countless more to come). There's more burning rage in Astarion than there are stars in the sky— not solely for Danarius or Hadriana or the other slaves content to leave their heads bowed low whilst Fenris was fashioned into whatever shape his master pleased, but the society that fostered it. The culture that enabled it from the very bottom up.]

And I'll accept it, I promise you that. [Speaks to more than just the present offer, his voice laced with unmasked honesty— a deeper timbre. His smile twitches. The pressure of his fingertips increases by the slightest of degrees.] That offer. Your absolution and dissolution of my nightmares. The toll that it might take— and the assuagement that I'll endlessly provide you if it does.

[But— ]