saudade. baldur's gate 3 [one shot]

saudade

For a brief moment, the air stilled. There was a split second of something she could describe only as the feeling of emptiness, quickly followed by a head splitting ache coming from the depths of her mind, physical and mental. Nerves in her brain burned and shredded, as if the structure of her mind was being reshaped and pieced together from scratch. Some hidden instinct, a quiet voice in the back of her head, protested, made her want to fall on her knees and pray to every deity she knew to give her back all the power she's been given, to restore the immense feeling of authority that voice had over her.

Amnyn wanted to tear her scalp open, her nails digging into her skin, creating small semicircle indents in which her blood pooled and scabbed. The pain passed relatively quickly, yet before the realisation hit her --- that she was free, that the fate of becoming a beast was no longer destined for her --- she felt a piece of her own being, be that soul or mind indeed, die with the tadpole. Just like she was drained of Bhaal's blood and rid of the parasite, she could swear a fragment of her was pulled out of her body, leaving Amnyn true to her pure form --- something unknown to her own self, something she wasn't certain if she wanted to let flourish or burn down before it would evolve and again become something she'd lose control over.

It felt a lot like paralysis, too. With absent eyes she saw her companion's cheer, her lover's arms gently engulfed her in a comforting embrace Amnyn couldn't yet return.

"Aeterna amantes, my love. It's a promise I can make now that forever is within our reach," he whispered, a small breeze passing by her ear and yet touching her soul so very deeply. She lifted her hand, slowly, as if trying to see if her own body would obey her, and intertwined her fingers with his, letting herself melt into his body.

"Aeterna amantes. Until death births us anew and we find each other again," Amnyn turned in his arms, yearning to see her lover. His expression was relieved, for a second she thought he doubted she'd still want him after all they've been through and having their journey come to an end until her words brought him solace.

He must've seen what kind of an effect he's had on her. Her shoulders dropped and muscles relaxed, all tension seemed to dissolve under his soft gaze of pure adoration. She was safe with him, but what brought her more relief, he was safe with her. As much as she was his, as of now she was also her own, defying the gods and powers that held her in an iron grip, pulled her strings for their own gain. She was free. Free to do as she pleased, free from the fear of hurting those whom she loved.

Astarion drank in her happiness, himself also cherishing his own independence he's finally tasted after centuries. He basked in the sun, held his dear in his arms, knew that he could grant her the future she deserved without having mercenaries or masters chasing after him. He still wasn't certain whether that's what fate had to offer him, whether it was something he truly deserved after all he'd done. But Astarion was sure it was a wish of Amnyn's, and that he shall grant it.

She took both his hands in hers, enjoying how the sun warmed his skin and made his locks appear with a golden hue. It's a sight she's seen thousands of times and not once did it not amaze her.

His eyes gleaming with newfound joy and ever existing love flicked for a second to catch a glimpse of his hands held by Amnyn. A single thread of smoke stirred in the air running loose, seemingly emerging from sheer naught.

"It was nice while it lasted," he murmured, letting go of Amnyn and looking at her once more before taking a few steps back.

"No, no. It can't be, you are well," she shook her head, momentarily ripping of the cloak attached to her armour and offering it to Astarion. His skin whitened, as if frost settled on his delicate features twisted in panic. "We need to leave."

Without a word, he ran off into the city, manoeuvring between broken stalls and piles of debris. He was frenzied, his movements chaotic and desperate. Amnyn followed him close, muttering words of comfort and reassurance he didn't notice.

Seeing a tavern in one of the less ruined tenements, she dragged him inside the building and closed all shutters. She lit a candle that was left on one of the tables. Astarion blew it out, his troubled face illuminated for long enough though to make Amnyn's heart weep for him.

"I'm so sorry, love," she rested her forehead on his shoulder, feeling the muscles of his entire body shake. "Let me light the candle, I need to see if you're hurt."

"Leave it as it is. If I am meant to live in the shadows, so be it, let the darkness have me," he choked out, trying to mask the shakiness in his voice and the harsher tone he was tempted to use. His first instinct was to push her away and although it hurt Amnyn, she stayed by his side as he rocked back and forth, his head hidden in his hands and leaned on his knees.

"Calm down, love. Come here," she sat near him, back leaning on a rotting wooden doors. She gently put her hands on his shoulders in an invitation to lay his head on her lap. The gesture was delicate enough not to actually move him, just to prompt that her arms were open.

"It is the same. It will always be the same," he murmured, something that might had as much sense as confessions of a person stuck in a fever dream. Except, Amnyn understood.

"No. I cannot comprehend what happened, I don't think the highest mages and sorcerers can either. But I can promise you, you will not be doomed to live your days in the dark."

"What are you going to do about it? Put a parasite back into my head? Get me into a pact that will make me a slave forever? Why would I complain, it's not anything I haven't experienced yet," he held a certain edge to his voice that made Amnyn drew back the hand that was smoothing his curls and immediately gave Astarion a feeling of remorse for losing his temper. He knew it wasn't her fault in the slightest and yey he couldn't help but seek for an outlet for his accumulated emotions.

It was a tragic end of his affair with the sun. He had gambled with his time anyway, something he was well aware. But how sweet death was in his perspective, preluded by the light tune of the sun's song adorning his existence, something he desired for his own joy as well as a silent revenge against his dead master. He hoped that in whatever void Cazador's soul subsisted, it had a very small window, a sliver of his reality, cold and fluid, merging with the other. One in which Astarion escaped the abuse.

"Neither, love, neither," she tried convincing. "You've helped me battle my father, god and creator. I had the privilege of having a choice, whether I'd rather continue deteriorating the path of gore and madness or choose my freedom. You were rid of that said choice but what you have instead is control. You are not under his command anymore, nor do you answer his wishes. And although it is a dawn for the night two hundred year long, I will not rest until you have it all."

"Don't say that...," he quickly, rapidly even, got up from where he was laying, taking his beloved's face in his hands. They were warm to her, like sunlight falling upon the cold stone of a tomb. To him, they seemed fragile. He felt as if he was going to break down and apart, shatter into dust and ashes, meet his prolonged death. "You do not owe me this. You do not owe me any of it, you needn't be here while I'm being a miserable excuse of what I could be, had I only completed the ritual. I could be the one guarding you, instead of crumpling under your touch, scurrying away from the daylight."

"Do you want me to leave?" She asked, moved by his inclination that she could leave him to his own misery. Her hand climbed through his hair again, affectionately caressing the skin on his temples.

"No. Please stay. I'm sorry, don't go, don't be mad."

"I'm not mad, not at you," she offered him a weak smile and leaned down to gently press her forehead against his. "I see my mistake and I am deeply sorry. I shouldn't have advised you during the ritual."

"No, love, you did what was right. I asked for your help and you helped me greatly by not letting me become the beast I feared myself. It's just the power I mourn, the dauntless life I could've led with you by my side," he broke into a short peroration, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

"We will live a beautiful life together, my dear," she took his hands in hers, tried to provide him with any sense of stability. She's only once seen him this agitated, this helpless and broken and she wished never to experience that sight ever again. "Whatever the gods, the fate or the coincidence bring upon us."