As the Fire Rises

Chapter Seventeen: What You See in Me.

Diana broke down, telling everything to her father, watchful eyes of those who had searched for her and her brother for the past decade, she told of her mother planting her for them to find, of the torture she and Aelius suffered. When she finished there was not a dry in the room. Aelius hugged his sister tightly. "It's okay, we don't have to live that way again. Dia, no more blood no more pain." 

"I wouldn't be too sure of that half blood." Citrine's sickly sweet voice rang from the corner of the bunker, "Do you really think they'll ever stop hunting you down? Sure tie me up, stuff me somewhere dark, hell snuff me out. Those loyal to my father won't stop until the rightful heir is all that stands and if you and your sister are too weak they'll just find someone more suited." Citrine struggled in her bindings. 

"Shut it. " Lae'zel growled, Shadowheart placed a hand on Lae'zel. 

"If I were you, I'd learn when to speak and when not to." Shadowheart's eyes darkened. 

Astarion stood from his chair, and with ease he slung the bounded Citrine over his shoulder, despite her struggles. Lae'zel spat insults as he left with the writhing elf. The bunker was small but still built for a duke he carried her passed rooms until he reached the darkened back storage room. Crates littered the floor and crawled up the walls. He tossed her down protecting her head from hitting the hard ground. 

Astarion crouched at her level. "I once saw a version of you like this before, tied up just the same." 

"I bet you enjoy that don't you? Tied up and helpless, skin exposed, oh no mister spawn it would seem I'm at your mercy." 

"At least your not growling this time." Astarion sighed, he sat leaning against a crate. "You asked me not to hate you, I told you I didn't that this was not you." 

"Spare me the love sick details." 

"This is you. The version of you I fell in love with was someone different, you were so different. You could kill, hells I've watched you kill dozens of people and I watched you suffer at night after." 

"And now I'd lick my blade clean." 

"And now you'd lick your blade clean." A tear rolled down his face. "I prayed to every god, yelled deals to whomever begging to bring you back, you wear her face but you are not my darling little elf." 

"She wore my face. I am a daughter of Bhaal, the true chosen. She was a pathetic excuse of life." 

Astarion slammed his fist into the floor. "Will you shut up for five minutes. I can't leave you alone because gods know what your capable of. Just five minutes of silence." 

Citrine bit her tongue counting the seconds, the minutes. "Five minutes are over. If I'm going to be here can you at least sit me upright?" Astarion silently propped her against the crate beside him. "So do you hate me?" 

Astarion hung his head, the his body read nothing but shame. "No. I know you're not her but gods I can't bring myself to hate you." 

"You could end this all, drink me dry, walk out of here run off with your friends and children to some remote part of Faerun looking over your shoulder every minute waiting for them to find you again. I've heard Chult is nice this time of year." 

A small chuckle left Astarion, "Is that what you want? Me to drain you, you're less like her than I thought. The Citrine I knew wasn't a quitter." 

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps I just want to feel your lips against my skin and am looking for excuses to have that." 

"Tempting." They sat in silence, "So you and Gortash?" 

"Gortash and I what?" Citrine cocked her head at him her hair falling into her face. Astarion pushed it back behind her pointed ears. 

"Were you two involved?" 

"I'll answer whatever you want if you re-tie me in a more conformable way. If I'm going to tied up I might as well be able to adjust myself." She flashed him green doe eyes. With out a word he adjusted her ties, she did not fight to escape she merely watched as he gently rebound her. His hands worked with skill, they were gentle but firm. He released her arms from her sides, Her ankles rewrapped to allow slight movement for her legs. His fingertips lingered on her freckled skin, his ruby eyes met her emerald ones. A whisper separated their lips from touching. Astarion cleared his throat backing away leaning once more beside her. 

"So Gortash." He looked at her with anticipation. 

"Involved is such a strong word. We had fleeting moments, he was a means to and end and a warm body to curl up next to after a slaughter." 

"Interesting." 

"Did you think I was some unplucked flower?" Citrine laughed. 

"Those words never left me. You slept with an incubus during our travels." Astarion laughed as hers grew silent. 

"I did not!" 

"You did." her eyebrows knitted together. "Why in the hells would I fuck an incubus." 

"To save Orpheus from the Emperor and save Hope from her prison." Citrine recoiled at his words. 

"By the gods, next you'll tell me I saved a bunny from a runaway cart." 

"No but you did save Robin, your owlbear from goblins and Scratch and his brothers from their old mistress." he paused. "Scratch was our dog." Citrine shuttered. 

"Well at least it wasn't a bunny." Astarion, turned to her, running his hands through her hair gather a bit and began braiding a small braid around the crown of her head. "What are you doing?"

"Old habits." He braided in silence, her rigged back began to relax as she leaned against him. He finished slowly wrapping the end between his fingers before laying it down. "Citrine." 

"Yes, Astarion?" He placed his chin upon the top of her head. 

"Why can't you just remember?" she felt the tears land on her crown. Her voice was caught in her throat. 

"Because I am not the person you want me to be. I can't be what you see in me." The words pierced her the pain flooded her once more, causing her fold over. Astarion pulled her into him. 

"What is going on with you?" 

Through growls "Fuck if I know, ever since you blasted lot came to the temple." a scream left her. "Fuck, this hurts." when her body relaxed the pain finally subsiding, Astarion released her. "Don't let me go." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Please."