The Search for Soul in Everything

Chapter 18

The four laughed hysterically, already forgetting what they had been laughing about. They were drunk, mostly. Astarion decided to stop after a while, and while he still felt a tinge of wine flooding through his blood, he also knew that Vanora was drunk. She was more drunk than anyone, and she only took some every so often. It could only be imagined that she hasn't had much experience with alcohol before, having been a captive for Cazador all her life.

An arm threw him back to reality. Vanora supported herself on his shoulders, her feet almost falling under her. "Astarion, sir." She started, flinging her head back and forth for a moment. "Sir, I think I gotta leave now." She kept her head down, holding herself with only one arm. The man had to catch her.

Astarion worried for a moment, hearing the word 'sir' flood her mouth. "Alright, darling. The caravan just stopped. We can set up a camp over that way, alright?" His words flowed slowly from his lips, every sound caressed with care and worry. The stumbling girl nodded, trying her best to hold herself.

The elf flung an arm under her knees, doing his best to pick her up as slowly as he could. She groaned, her arm falling onto her stomach. Her head was still bent downward, flopping left and right as Astarion walked. He tried his best not to jostle the poor girl. The heavy burden of worry dipped farther and farther down on his shoulders. It didn't make sense to worry, she was only drunk.

He quickly pitched a makeshift tent, doing his best to watch her closely. Her head was buried in her knees. Arms wrapped around her legs like solemn vines, draped over comfortably to rest her head. Every now and then, she would flinch. A bug too close, or he dropped the tarp. She seemed to flinch at every noise around her. Astarion felt that worry grow more.

He sighed, walking over to the girl carefully. They were far enough away from everyone else that they could only hear people talk in passing. The words jumbled together like a soothing song, ripping apart the dark night as some laughter cut through the jumbling. He lowered himself to the ground, carefully sitting next to the girl.

"Vanora, darling." He rasped above a whisper, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, jostling her whole body back and forth to make sure he could see it. He sighed a little. "Can I help you up quickly?" She didn't move, hesitance heavy on her shoulders. She nodded, not as obviously as before.

Astarion carefully put his hands under her elbows, waiting for her to move to get up. The girl relied heavily on the hands that held her, the world rocking around her made it hard for her to stand. She took a shaking breath, lifting up and standing in front of him.

Astarion looked at her for a moment, trying his best to inspect her face behind her hair. Shimmers flashed through the strands, a water drop falling onto his palm. He looked for a moment, his brow furrowing. "Are you alright? You can tell me, darling." He asked hesitantly.

She started to nod, but stopped herself quickly. Astarion knew, but he wanted her to answer him first. He wouldn't pry if she didn't want him to know, but he hoped she would tell him. When her hair swayed side to side, he sighed. He wasn't sure what to do.

"Alright, I have the tent set up. There are some bedrolls there. Can we drink some water while we talk about it?" He questioned. She nodded as he was already leading her toward the tent.

He placed her on one of the bedrolls, quickly finding a bottle of water that he placed just outside the tent. She took the bottle softly, lightly pressing the glass to her lips as she drank. When she placed the bottle down, Astarion carefully grabbed her hand. He started running circles into her palm with his thumb, caressing every crease in her hand.

"Tell me what's wrong." He pleaded, looking back up at her.

She sighed, watching as his fingers traced her hand. "Cazador would make me drink sometimes. It was rare, but..." She struggled to find the words. She noticed Astarion didn't press, waiting patiently for her next words. She was thankful for that. "There were a few times I was... a bed maiden, to keep words light. I thought I'd just have fun but now I'm just... I'm afraid."

Astarion had to make sure he didn't squeeze her hand. He was sure to crush every bone with the anger he held inside. "He can't have you." He growled, unable to control his voice other than volume.

"He's going to find me." Vanora swayed a little as she lifted her head, her drunken stupor still radiating off her. "He'll find me." She whispered, unable to control the tears that trekked down her face. "And he might kill me for this. Slowly. I know him."

"Well, so do I." Astarion's voice changed drastically. "I'm his underling, one of his first. I know him better than anyone."

Vanora looked up in sorrow. She smiled sadly, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry." That's when the realization hit, that if Astarion was found helping her, Cazador would kill him too. Either before, or after she died. Whichever would be more painful for the other. Maybe he'd torture both of them at once, forcing the other to watch. More tears streamed down her face.

Astarion sighed, thinking for a moment. "We'll get your ring, you'll have your soul back I promise. I won't let him take you, he can't." He said, pulling the tiefling close to his chest to comfort her. Maybe to comfort himself as well.

Vanora nodded, wanting nothing more than to believe him. She found only doubt in her mind.