A couple of days had passed since they received the message from Gale. Astarion was eager to leave but Tav had to first arrange someone to care for her cats. The blue-grey cat was still hanging around the house, as she had seen him on occasion. She didn't understand how these cat heralds worked, but perhaps she was now stuck with this one. She ended up arranging things with Alfira. She would stay in the house, and Rolan would check up on her. Tav had visited Rolan and tried to detach herself from any romantic feelings he was having for her. He blustered around the topic, swearing there was nothing there. Rolan was far smarter than her, he knew what she was saying, and had brushed her off. Tav realized she was pushing the friendship, but she had a mischievous desire, and perhaps a real plan, to get Rolan and Alfira to maybe fall in love with each other.
She woke that morning with Astarion asleep beside her, and a curled note shoved into her hand. "Sweetheart, don't forget your weapon."
I won't. Ever since the night someone had poisoned her drink, and purposely made her intoxicated, he had been worried about her going out. He said he had dealt with the one who did it. If so why was he still so concerned? There had to be more he wasn't telling her about the incident.
Mid-morning she headed towards Alfira's apartment in the lower city. With her Duelist rapier at her back, she passed the gate between the upper and the lower city. As was his custom most days, Rascal walked with her on the pathway through the upper city, and they talked while they went. Eventually she came to a narrow lane, and steps down would turn into an alleyway. She noticed a man step out of the shadows ahead of her down the alley. Another two men were coming from behind her. Before she realized the man ahead was observing her carefully, it was too late.
She blasted him with an Eldritch incantation. While one of the men behind got a Hold on her. She could not move, and she yelled out with frustration. The one she hit had slammed into the wall. Doubled over, he was wounded, but likely his armor coped the brunt of it. She struggled to free herself. Another man entered the scene, and he was weaving magic.
Finally she broke the Hold and flicked her sword around to slice into the flesh of the one who cast Hold. The man by him unsheathed his own sword and came at her, shouting, 'Fucking bitch.'
Now three against one. It wasn't looking so good for Tav, and even worse counting the one behind her, who was getting up from the ground. 'Shit,' she muttered to herself. She cast one more Eldritch blast, while she could, it knocked the man out. In the same instance, Command was put on her, and her weapon went down.
She could see the caster was going to cast Fear – a debuff she had experienced before, and it was not a nice feeling. The fear managed to hit, and it always made her vocal. She called on the one she hoped was still nearby. 'Rascal!' – her voice a frightened cry. 'Rascal!'
With her cowering in fear, it was easy for them to bind her and take her away.
~><~
Rascal was following his Mistress, as he did on numerous occasions. He was always curious about her activities, usually boring – or usually coupling with her mate in the giant box – or playing her music. It was something he would stop to listen to.
He liked to roam the rooftops and the walls and the fences. He liked the holes he could fit through and looking through windows to spy. He loved spying very much. He would visit his gang all over town – all those cats who either didn't want a home or were still looking.
This day Mistress got hurt. Mistress called him. He never saw Mistress scared – it made him scared too. Mistress needed his help. He felt special for that.
The men were many. From behind the crate he watched them take her away. Down the sewer where all the rubbish goes – but Mistress is not rubbish. He wanted to go into the sewer to follow the scent – but he wanted to go home to tell the others and Mistress's mate. Rascal knew Mistress would want her special one to know where she was.
He was torn – to follow or report. Follow or report. 'Meeow.' He let loose a long frustrated cry.
'I will report then I will follow.' He raced back to his home.
At the back of the Manor house, a first floor window was always ajar. This was how the cats went in and out. A jump onto the wall, a walk across the stone, then a leap onto the sill, and push through the slight opening. Rascal was in. As he went he yelled for the other cats. 'Hurry, everyone to me. To me!'
The little ones came first, skittering and sliding to him in the foyer. Their mother came slowly stretching leisurely. She said, 'What is this noise for?'
'Mistress is hurt. Violent men took her away,' Rascal replied.
Selune eye's widened with panic. 'No—'
Rascal darted up the stair. 'We have to tell him. Upstairs.'
Jergal watched them from the second floor. 'What is this disturbance?'
Rascal jumped up the stairs and headed to the main bedroom. 'Mistress is gone. We must wake her mate.'
Selune followed him. 'Quickly, I'm so worried. If Mistress is gone who will look after us?'
'Let us proceed,' Jergal followed them, 'Wake him.'
'Will he be angry?' Selune tentatively entered. The kittens scrambled to get inside without any care.
'He will be angry if he can no longer mate,' Jergal replied.
Rascal agreed, 'This is true.'
'But he doesn't talk to us,' Selune said, 'How will we tell him?'
'We must make him know.' Jergal parted the bed curtain and jumped up onto the bed.
Rascal and Selune followed him through, while the kittens clawed their way up beneath the curtain.
~ >< ~
He looked up from his book, the words were no longer holding his attention – poetic as they were. No, he thought it more likely, it was anticipation causing his mind to wander. His gaze was overtaken by the beauty of the garden, and he sat back in contemplation.
On this evening, the grove was enchanting. The soothing golden lit lamps were placed on the lawn and in the gardens, some low, others hung like the one above where he sat. A carved seat, made for two, had spreading scented flowers around the legs and back. The gardens were lush with night colours and the lights of wild drifts of magic. Warm evening air evoked the heady perfume of flora that only opened during the dark hours. The air was permeated with the heady fragrance of night flowers, much richer than day – the delicate scents twined together like an aromatic song for the senses. It would seem it was created solely for the indulgence of lovers.
A few others walked the grounds, none alone, all in pairs, leaning into each other. Amid gentle chatter, was the twinkling wash of the small waterfalls pouring into the stream behind the massive Divine Spirit Tree.
Tonight the Tree was calling to him, like a song only he was able to hear. He laid the book aside, and walked to the tree, to wait in its branching radiance, for some divine word. Before its magnificent grandeur that covered nearly the whole grove, he felt imbued with its High Magic as it examined his soul. In the day it was a lovely covering of turquoise leaves, and silvery bark. However, at night it was a spectacular vision, of infused azure leaves, dancing like millions of dazzling stars to light the sky. Lamps were not even needed, only this heavenly light to reveal the way.
He could spend the whole night staring at its beauty and waiting –
Behind him he heard the one he was expecting. Amid delight, he turned to see –
But instead --- A portal opened, and a wicked red-eyed entity, staff in hand, commanded him to follow him back through. Screaming inside, he could do nothing but obey this evil elf, and his cruel demands. Once more, he was helpless to escape the poisonous words no matter how much he struggled within himself. The light and vision of beauty dissipated, becoming a void of nothingness, and he was dragged into cold darkness once again.
Astarion woke from the coming nightmare. Usually he would have to endure it, but he was startled awake with a noise. The sound of cats mewling and crying caused him to fully wake. He opened his eyes to see them, all of them. The three adults sat on the bed, penetrating him with their bright eyes. Even the kittens sat right by him, their little eyes appeared to be pleading with him.
'Hells below…' he grumbled, and he reached for a pillow, swatting them away. 'Tav will feed you later. Do I look like I'm your mother cat?'
All of them darted back from the flying pillow. Unperturbed they all got back into the same position and continued talking amongst themselves.
Astarion put a pillow over his face, and his voice was muffled, 'Can't you go away you furry pests. You do know I can bite, don't you?'
The cats stopped meowing, except the mottled cat, Rascal, who continued making a noise. Fearlessly the kittens pounced on Astarion's chest, they cooed and mewled.
Astarion flopped the cushion away and shook his head at them. 'Even kittens… gods, I can't do–'
The big black came and sat right next to his face. His stare was menacing, and he raised his paw, his nails sprung out.
Astarion was left with the distinct awareness he was going to be attacked by the creature. He said, 'What in hell's name is wrong with these animals?'
Rascal meowed, then abruptly went back out through the curtain. It seemed he jumped onto the bedside table and was making a scratching sound on the drawer latch. After some ruffling about, the cat jumped back onto the bed with a pouch in his mouth. He dumped it by Astarion and chewed on the tie to open it.
While all this went on Jergal continued intimidating with his fierce black gaze and his sharp claws.
At long last Astarion had the sense the cats were speaking to each other and even to him. Tav said the cats were always speaking, but that he never wanted to hear. That was correct. He had never wanted to hear the thoughts of the creatures he had fed on. It was an old qualm, and over the centuries it had become a type of unspoken promise to himself.
The pouch carried all the magical rings they had accumulated over their journey. Rascal was poring over the pile now on the bed. The cat didn't seem to know which ring he was looking for.
Astarion said to the cat. 'You want to tell me something, don't you?'
Rascal nodded his head back and forth, and kept pawing the rings.
'Is it Tav?'
All three adult cats let out a cry of distress and relief.
Astarion now felt dread swirling inside himself. 'Well, then, which one?' He couldn't remember, so he separated the ones he knew from the others. A handful was left. He tried each one.
Finally –
Selune spoke. 'How long will this take? Master is not a day-walker, he can't do it?'
One of the kittens made a tiny howl, 'Mistress will dieeeeee.'
'We must be patient,' Jergal told them, 'Master is trying, but he lacks the urgency---'
Astarion bolted up in bed, suddenly paying attention with every fiber of his body. 'She's in danger—'
Rascal said, 'We must go. Time is running out. The scent will fade---'
'Alright, you furry bunch, what has happened to Tav?'
Rascal replied, 'Nasty men took her. She wasn't moving. Took her down the sewer.'
'Please, Master, help her,' Selune placed a paw on his leg, 'there is no one to take care of us.'
Rascal addressed Astarion, 'I will take you where she was.'
Astarion jumped from the bed, sending the kittens flying off with yelps of glee.
'Master, you are not a day-walker,' Jergal commented, 'We fear night is far off.'
Do they really know that much about him, Astarion shook his head and frowned at the cats. 'I can't wait.' A dark angry look came over him from the restrictions of his nature. 'Curses!' he caught sight of the chest with the Drow armour. He hadn't even tested it. He was avoiding it. To know, or not to know – he had liked to keep it as a hopeful possibility. Now would be the time to find out.
If it didn't work and he had to walk in the sun – maybe being hooded would be enough and he could keep to the shade and shadows. But that was a huge risk – it was midday. The sun would be high. He let out a long heart-felt sigh. 'Now is the time to find out what this suit is capable of.' The cats watched him with curiosity as he pulled on the magical armour. 'Whether I can walk in the sun.'
He yanked on everything he would need. The Drow armour was light and snug against his body, it was almost weightless, aside from the shoulder armor. He packed some scrolls he thought might be useful into a pouch of holding. Finally going to his chest of weapons. He pulled out the twisted dagger, known as "Rhapsody" and he also lifted the red curved blade with the circle hilt-handle. 'When you are in the mood for murder.'
The cats were getting impatient with him. Rascal cried, 'Time is moving.'
Once he was ready he headed downstairs to the back door with all the cats following. Cautiously he left the house and Rascal ran a few steps ahead of him. Astarion, mask covering his face and with his eyes down, he stepped out into the full sun. His skin was not burning – the suit was protecting him from the penetrating rays of the sun. He would have been overjoyed if he weren't so full of rage. 'Now – let's go.'
Rascal ran ahead. Astarion quickly followed after, incredulous he was walking in the day down the street amongst people. Sadly his skin couldn't feel the sun, but he didn't think that would be possible again. This had to be the closest solution to that dilemma.
He tried to move down the street as fast as possible without knocking anyone over. Running when he could, he knew he was vulnerable, and still had to be careful and on high alert. Until he got to the sewer, where he would be safer.
The cat ran on, and Astarion kept pace with the animal. He dropped his gaze when citizens passed. Even so, people did not appear to notice him. He credited that to the magical effect of the suit. His blades were semi-hidden by a cloak he had decided on – for he did not want to be stopped by guards, for which he would have to take drastic action.
The longer it took to get there, the more fury churned inside him, growing to levels he could never hope to contain. Equal to the rage was the fear – not for his own safety - but if something happened to Tav – and they killed her… it would be the end of him.
The path branched three ways, Rascal paused, sniffing the air.
Astarion asked, 'Rascal, how many were there?'
Rascal replied, 'Four men, five, six… many men with violence in their eyes.'
'Alright then, it's just more of them who will die.'
Rascal choose a direction, and reached an alley devoid of people. 'Here.'
Astarion studied the scene, noticing the blood. It was not Tav's. Someone else was wounded. More blood, that was not hers, was on the wall. 'A fight took place here.' She was a good fighter, and she could be front-line, and was many times. But that was when she had back-up. How could she stand on her own against so many at once. 'She was ambushed.'
'Here it is.' Rascal sat by the sewer opening. 'She cut one up.'
Astarion knelt by the opening and the cat. 'You, Rascal, are a worthy animal indeed.' He never thought he would ever speak such a thing to a creature. 'Now, I'll go and find her and bring her back.'
'I will come.'
'No,' Astarion commanded. 'I don't need you to lead me.' He didn't want to have to look after a cat and save Tav. 'I don't know where it will lead me so I don't know where I'll come back up. Go home and wait there.'
Rascal scowled.
Astarion couldn't waste any more time trying to convince the cat. He lifted the hatch and dropped down into the sewer, avoiding puddles of watery grunge. His senses adjusted to the stink, and after the glaring sunlight, his eyes took time to pierce the darkness.
Once finding the blood left by the wounded, he knew which direction to head. He was fairly familiar with this pathway. It was a haphazard way through the sewer water and broken heaps of rubbish, but it was still passable. The sewer was a dumping ground for literally anything, and everything foul.
Eventually he came to what he feared, a dead body. Presumably it was the man he had been tracking. The slit on his throat was fresh. Astarion might have considered feeding on the man if he had the time. As it was, now he had to rely on his vampire senses and instincts.
The scent of Tav was near him, on his glove. That alone was not going to help in finding her, but it did heightened the urgency of saving her. To detect her, he would have to discern her direction through her life-essence. Since the day they met he had been feeding on her. His veins ran with her life-blood. He knew her heart-beat, he had experienced it. Over time his own heart mirrored hers, and even down to the taste of his blood and the alchemical component. He hadn't realized at first what was occurring, but eventually he came to understand. He was binding himself to her. Not till the tadpoles were gone and he was free from the thrall, did he truly recognize what he had been doing, tying them together, daily. He could sense her presence without seeing her, and even at a great distance away. He could feel her heartbeat without touch – her breathing, even her scent was alive to him. He didn't fully comprehend every detail of what was transpiring between them, but he did know it was getting more significant over time.
The yearning for her presence made him move faster. He dashed silently, his presence going unseen by any he might pass. The area of the sewer he had reached was familiar. He had an idea where they might be. A place where refugees and homeless people might be found camping.
A mumbling echo of voices was against the walls, and dim lights were ahead. He could sense her nearness, but… her heart was dull – too dull. But there was another scent in the air. The odor of a vampire.
Finally he came to the top of a stairway. Down below was a stone landing that was next to sewage muck that was moving through the curved grates seen throughout the sewer. Across from this was another landing and above that a wooden platform on posts that ran the whole length. At the end of the landing he was looking at, there appeared to be what might be cells or rooms. They had openings onto the landing platform. Most importantly, he detected Tav within the room near the sewer flow.
Astarion observed a make-shift camp on the landing, and three men were either sitting or standing there. On the opposite, twelve foot high platform another three men were sitting idly talking and drinking. Inside the room next to Tav's position, other men could be heard talking.
He took some time assessing the scene. It was his assumption that the landing went further than the rooms, and they could possibly be accessed via a back way. Tav was his primary concern. Her life was growing fainter, and her heart more lethargic. To his advantage the men were relaxed and not expecting anything confrontation. To Astarion they would soon be dead.
Even with invisibility, he did not wish to attempt a straight walk past the three men nearest him. For he had pin-pointed the vampire as one of the men on the landing, and he couldn't risk being detected by him. Deciding on going around the wall backing the high platform, he hoped there was some way through.
With enhanced speed, he worked his way around the wall and to the back of the landing and the main area. He arrived at a break in guard bars and he squeezed through. He jumped across the murky water onto a stone path. It was behind the two rooms and out of sight of the enemy.
Astarion searched the wall, sensing Tav was within, but there was no openings. She was fading faster than he anticipated. 'Curse the nine hells!' Exploring the wall, he found what he wanted, a crumbled section of stone. It was enough. He reached into the pouch of holding for a particular vial. 'I truly despise this concoction.' He downed the liquid, instantly turning him into a gaseous form.
He floated through the cracks in the wall. The room was deeper than he surmised, and fortunately it meant he would be beyond the view of the three men who were nearer the opposite stairs. The men in the adjoining room were speaking loudly to each other.
Tav lay bound on the cold stone floor. Her eyes closed, she was barely breathing. He released his form and fell on his knees by her. He removed his mask and cut the rope. Lifting her body, ice-cold to his touch, he held her in his arms.
She muttered, 'I… don't want…'
Even with his elevated hearing, he still wanted to bring her mouth close to his ear. With that he saw the dried blood on her neck coming from puncture wounds he did not make. It was her blood. The vampire had been feeding on her.
She went on, her eyes still closed, '… to be your vampire…'
'Tavi, my love,' He softened his voice, because the rage was going to send him mad, and he had to keep it together just a little bit longer. 'It's me. I'm here now.'
'Are you… really here?' her eyes were narrow slits. 'I can't… see…' she closed her eyes again. 'You… promise to kill me…'
'You are delirious.' He ran his hand over her deathly-white face. 'I won't let you die.' Still gripping her with one arm, he reached in the pouch for a scroll. He had to cast the spell as quietly as he could, but it had to be done right then. The Lesser Restoration only restored a minimum of life to her, it was not enough. The blood-loss was severe. She was too near the end for it to heal completely. He couldn't even teleport her out, as it would be too dangerous for her to travel the Astral plane in that condition. He couldn't believe how terrible she looked, and how near to death she was.
'Astarion… are you a vision?' she said from a dry throat devoid of moisture, '… you have come to see me…as I die…'
'No, sweetheart, I am right here,' He soothed her, 'I won't watch you die.'
'Don't let me…. be his spawn…' her voice emitted her pain.
Words seem to leave him at her heartfelt request. How could he have let her get into this lethal predicament – after all, it was most likely him they wanted. 'I…' He said, 'He can't, he's not a full vampire. Even so, he will not live past the hour.'
The two men in the adjoining room were speaking. One said, 'We were ordered not to touch her in any way---'
The other replied, 'Yeah, ordered to bring her back undefiled, but he's… insane, feeding on everything. He can face the wizard, and not us.'
'I guess he thinks that it won't matter by the time we get to the temple, and that other vampire will find out and go there— but now, she'll be long gone by then.'
Tav groaned in pain, '… I can't see…'
'My love, I'm going to take you home,' He caressed her face, 'You must hold on till I come back.'
'…if you… come back…'
Reluctantly, he lay her back down with care. Replacing his mask to his face, he stood, ready for murder, ready for bloodshed. Detaching both his daggers, he said, 'It's time to channel some Bhaal. Again.' He swung the "Bloodthirst" blade in his hand, it hummed in anticipation and hunger. "Rhapsody", the ancient vampire weapon, and Cazador's old knife, was in his other hand. With every hit it would increase its damage output, such was its greed for pain.
Applying his invisibility skill, he walked to the men in the next room. Swiftly, he plunged the red curved dagger into the first man's throat, breaking his invisibility. At rapid speed he thrust the second dagger through his ribs and into his heart. Within the next moment, his blade was thrown with precision at the second man who was now aware of his presence, and straight through his neck. Both men went down clutching at their throats and in utter shock. Astarion stabbed into the falling man's chest and guts. They both fell with a thud.
Astarion's eyes blazed with contempt as he slid out the red blade. 'That is the payment for hurting my love.' He returned to an invisible state. So far the other men hadn't registered the attack, but the vampire was different. He was alerted to the sounds, and maybe even the scent. Soon the lack of the men's chatter would be noticed. He had to act fast and with accuracy.
He stabbed the next nearest two in the same manner as the first men. One after the other. It brought him out of invisibility, but it had to be done. Their bodies shredded, he ended their lives while the vampire crashed towards him.
The vampire had heightened senses. Yet the blur on the suit was effective in concealing his movements from those up on the platform. Although, they were aware of the commotion and were readying their bows to fire at something.
The vampire started casting, probably a cantrip, at Astarion. Before the Fire Bolt could reach him, he teleported up to the platform. Through the obfuscation of the armour, he pounced like a deadly shadow, his blades tearing into each of them. His flaring red eyes, the only thing the enemy would see as he stabbed into flesh and organs with hate and disgust. After finishing them off, Orin's red blade was dripping crimson, but it was not yet sated, and with every victim slain, "Rhapsody" became more lethal.
The blades were ready for the one he wanted to kill the most. The non-descript man, with longish hair, and a brutish face. Arrogant and newly changed. He used a longsword and seemed to have some fighter skills.
'She's dead,' the vampire shouted, as he sent another Fire Bolt up to the platform. 'You're too late!'
Astarion had already teleported to behind the vampire. Posed so close to him, he could see and smell Tav's blood on the vampire's clothes. He also noted the second weapon he had at his belt. A sword that did not belong to him. He growled at his back, 'No, on the contrary, it is an excellent time for this.' His blade found the weak spot in the vampire's armour, and he pierced his side, and dragging it down, he twisted it in deep.
The vampire turned in an attempt to lash out with his sword. 'It won't end with this— there'll be more who will come.'
'For you it ends.' Astarion smashed Rhapsody into the vampire's throat. His eyes fierce, he retorted, 'You dare to take her blood. I'll kill you for that alone, and –' he screwed the knife in '—I'm going to take it all back from you.' The vampire fell at Astarion's feet, a grisly hate-filled expression on its face.
Silence fell over the scene of the bloody massacre. Yet it wasn't a peaceful quiet because the rage still burned in his veins. Astarion ripped off his mask, and took hold of the body and fed on him, taking in the precious blood that was Tav's. Even though there was no way he could give it back to her, he wasn't going to let this vampire die with her in his veins.
It was dangerous to leave Tav for that amount of time, but he wasn't able to let that vampire get away with what he had done. When finished, he went through the vampire's pockets and pouch, finding what he needed – a note with an address. Unfortunately, he couldn't use a Speak with Dead spell, there was no possibility these corpses would want to speak with him. He reattached his mask and reclaimed her rapier from the body and sheathed it on his back. There wasn't time to investigate all the corpses, he had to hope he got what was important.
He had never taken so much of Tav's blood at one time, it was an intoxicating sanguine mix, and he felt empowered. Racing back to Tav, he picked her up. She was limp in his arms, but still breathing. 'Come on Sweetheart, I'll get you home.'
She only mumbled something incoherent in reply.
The Lesser Restoration had stabilized her for now – but her blood loss had brought her to death's door. Cradling her in his arms, he made a path to the sewer exit nearest the Upper City. He was acquainted with these sewer pathways, especially in the Upper city. All the while Tav's condition scared him. Amid all the injuries she had sustained over the last few months, this was wholly different. To be drained of life-essence was a wound that doesn't heal on its own. He hoped that at home there could be more he could do for her – otherwise… he would need to seek help.
Eventually he came to a broken hole in a wall with enough of an opening to fit through. It was a basement of a shop in Upper city, selling jewelry and expensive curios. For vampires, shops and businesses were a convenient method for moving around the city.
He took Tav up the stairs to the shop. The door opened into an interior room. At the sight of the light streaming through the windows, he remembered it was still day. Astarion kept his face lowered and left the room. Quickly he walked past the front counter and the lady serving. It took some moments for her to show her shock at his appearance with Tav in his arms. She yelled after him, 'Hoy there! What are you doing---'
Astarion was already out the door and away. Hidden in the shadows of the buildings along the roadway, he had no wish to get tangled up with any guards. Shielding her from the light and the critical gaze of those passing by, he held her more securely against himself.
Tav was still cold when he finally reached the manor house, and she hadn't woken throughout the whole walk. He took her upstairs and lay her on the bed. The cats all gathered around, looking subdued at the sight of her. Tav lay quiet, her breathing so shallow she appeared dead. Her heart-beat slowed to a dangerously sluggish rhythm.
Astarion stripped off his mask and cowl and threw down all the weapons. He dug through the scrolls they had in a pack. If there could be another Restoration scroll it would be something to help at least.
Selune curled up next to Tav in an effort to warm her, as if that might help. The kittens gathered around her hand, trying to get her to pat them, but her hand was a dead weight.
Jergal said, 'I sense her life leaving.'
'I know,' Astarion growled, 'But she's not going to die.' He found another scroll. 'She can't…'
Rascal put his paws on her leg, and watched. 'We shall hope…'
Astarion read a second scroll over her form. Her body shone a momentary blue, but her skin remained pale. He shook his head, was it enough to help, he couldn't say.
She opened her eyes and found his with hers. Her eyes, usually bright silver were dim, but at least it seemed she could see now.
'At last you're awake…' Astarion fell to his knees by the bed and grasped her cold hand in both of his. He kissed it, willing life to return to it. Her dry lips formed words and he leaned in to hear.
Her words came on fragile breath, 'Astarion…I want you to know… I saw you…' her chest barely rose, and she tried to gather more strength to speak, '…in my memory...'
'Yes, my love,' He caressed her thin-skinned face, marred by her blood loss.
Moving her fingers in between his, she pierced his vulnerable red gaze, '…near… the tree…' She forced the words out, and pleaded with her eyes, '… the beautiful… azure tree…in the garden,' her eyes lowered and she fought off sleep, '… you know… in the memory…'
'That…' In an instant, the vision came flooding back to his memory, what he thought only a dream was pushed down into the darkness of his mind. Dumbfounded, his brow creased, she was present, there…? '…blue tree...' Could it be, after all these years? That someone like him, a vampire, could experience Reverie again? Two hundred plus years had wiped the knowledge of it from his mind and memories equally. It was his past, even beyond the mortal life he knew – so long ago now. But hadn't he noticed something lately – real dreams vying for significance in his mind. It was Cazador and the hunger that continued to punish and poison his thoughts and… the unrelenting guilt.
He squeezed her hand. It was more imperative than ever to not let her pass away. 'Darling-heart, much as I wish to speak on this,' His voice was tender, 'I first need to figure out how to save you.'
Once more she fell asleep. He let out a heavy sigh. He was stuck. Whether to try Jaheira, although there was no guarantee she would even be home, or go to Rolan, who might be the better choice? Every option meant he would have to leave her alone and vulnerable. If a foe was to come to the house--- something had to be done and quickly. Time was ticking and her life was ebbing away.