Chpt 16. Woman of my Dreams
TRIGGER WARNING: panic attacks, existential crisis, SEXUAL VIOLENCE
I lie in my bedroll; the night is long and quiet. Despite my efforts to settle, I feel my head swimming once again. Every night is restless for me. It seems Bhaal does not wish for me to get a decent night's sleep. With a heavy sigh, I get up; maybe a walk will help quiet my mind. Astarion and Shadowheart are neatly tucked in and sleeping next to the smoldering embers of the campfire, but to my surprise, Bex is nowhere to be seen. I look around and see footprints meandering toward the willow. I follow them, finding her standing beneath the great tree. She's in her camp clothes, looking up into the branches, as if she's waiting for them to tell her something. I don't know what noise I made to alert her, but she turns and sees me. "Oh! I didn't realize you would be awake."
"I'm having trouble sleeping. What are you doing out here?"
She looks proud of her own initiative. "I want to get a head start on looking for clues, we might be able to return sooner than anticipated."
I glance around, and feel the quiet air rush past me before walking up to her, giving her a subtle side-eye. "Are you so keen to be rid of me?"
She laughs quietly, "It's not you, it's just this place. It feels off, as you mentioned earlier. I can't sense it in the weave, but I feel it in my bones all the same."
"Psychosomatic maybe? You can't believe everything I say." A cheeky grin plays across my face.
She snorts, shoving me, and I feel a spark in my heart. I know this is joy, but the moment I realize it I am assaulted by another sensation. Fear. Fear. Fear. It smothers my mind.
Caring for the damned is a fool's notion.
Is it a mercy for me to hide within my dark heart? Is it a mercy for her to have death pass her over? Is life really worth living? I yearn for these little bites of joy; I want to understand them better, but cannot grasp hold of them for more than a moment. I try to hide my racing heart. My heavy breath. The fear. I need to remove myself from this situation and focus my mind elsewhere. I wish for the cloak of oblivion to shield me from these cascading notions in my head. Like a mother's embrace.
Bex isn't blind to my turmoil, despite my efforts. She sees my face fall, and reaches out a gentle hand. "Is everything alright?"
I shift, exhale, and run my fingers through my hair. "Yes, I'm fine. I think the day is finally catching up to me." I see the genuine concern on her face, not that I neither need nor deserve such a thing. "Don't worry about me. I'll finish my walk and head back to my bedroll. Have a good night."
She grabs my arm. "Come, Vash. Sit with me."
I look back at her, wary of remaining, but maybe... maybe talking will help.
She sits with her back to the tree and pats the ground next to her. I sit where she beckons me, like the dog that I am. She crosses her legs under her skirt and folds her hands in her lap. "So, how have I been doing?"
I have a one-liner in the barrel, but I hold back. Something-something, all you want is validation. I look over at her, her soft blonde curls reflect the moonlight in a way I don't think I've seen before. It's almost crystalline. I hear the wind drifting through the hanging branches of the Willow. The gentle flow of the Chionthar bends around this little island of ours. I take her hand, weaving my fingers into hers, and rest my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes. The swirling fear has subsides and all I feel is her warmth next to me. She reaches over and pats my hand, resting her head on mine, and my mind begins to drift away. After what only seems like a moment, I feel her hand slip out of mine as she gets up. I barely open my eyes, my lids heavy and uncooperative.
"Great conversation. We'll have to do it again sometime," I say groggily.
I feel her chuckle as she rests my head against the trunk of the tree. My eyes refuse to open as I sit there. I fully intend to go back to my bedroll, but I wait for my body to want to rise.
The night is quiet once again. She's likely left to camp without me, but then I feel a soft, warm weight settling in my lap. She giggles as I open my eyes, seeing her looking at me expectantly.
She has effortlessly commanded my attention. "Hey, what's on your mind?" I give her a flirtatious smile as I rub my eyes back into focus.
Bex grips the back of my neck and pulls herself close to me. I feel her breath against my mouth as she hesitates, not sure if she should or not. It feels dangerous, enticing me deeply. I dare to run my fingers through her soft curls, and her scent fills my senses once again. Our eyes meet, and she leans in closer. With another brief hesitation, she presses her lips to mine. It sends a shock of warmth and comfort through me. I sigh and take her in, softly dragging my fingers up the ridges of her spine. Is this really happening? Why? What did I do to warrant this? I want to know so I can keep doing it.
She coils her fingers through my hair, savoring my taste. Her pulse races with guiltless pleasures as her fingers drift across my chest. I pull off my tunic and quickly toss it aside. She leans down, giving my collarbone a gentle kiss before dragging her teeth against my skin. "I just want to bite you." Her tail lashes with excitement.
I laugh softly and begin to pull her tunic out of the waistband of her skirt. "You're an animal, aren't you?"
She's grinning as she helps me pull it over her head. Her breasts are freed from the garment, ready for me to play with. Cut them off. Feed them to her. They are slight and glow with the soft pink tint of her hellish skin. With a craving, I reach up and cup them in my palms, a perfect fit. She kisses me again as I run her nipples between my fingers. A soft moan escapes her. I want her to make that sound again.
Her fingers trace my belt, and I help her unpin it. She swiftly unties my breeches, her hand hot and infernal pulling me free and eagerly stroking me. She works her way down. Lips caress my neck. Tender kisses dot my chest and track down my stomach. She runs her wet tongue up my shaft, watching me, infernal amber eyes wild with desire. "I want it." She moans, pulling me into her hot mouth. She's hungry, and determined to consume me. This is why she wanted to come with me. This is why Danis was so frantic. It makes sense now, but their marital drama is none of my business.
I sigh and close my eyes, "Say it again."
She works me slick and greedy, then breathes. "I want it."
My eyes track her as she crawls into my lap once more, lifting her skirt to reveal no underwear. She licks her fingers and caresses herself with an exhale. Eyes rolling back. Head lulling with the pleasure of her own touch. She finally takes me in hand and plays my head over her lips. I can feel her throbbing heat, cheeks bright red, hands trembling. I run my fingers up her thighs before gripping her hips. She coos softly at my touch, and I see goosebumps dotting her skin. I pull her down onto me, possessive and insatiable. She gasps and squeals as I enter her. Gods, she feels like velvet. She rides me, back arching, hands running through her hair; she lands each thrust on a spot that looks like it’s sending shock waves through her body.
I grip her thighs and breathe, myriad sensations pulsing through me as I savor the feeling of her. After a moment, I squeeze her legs. "Wait."
She slows to a stop, breath heavy, beads of sweat forming on her skin. “What?”
I lift her off me and stand, swiftly removing my boots and trousers. She watches me, her eyes glinting, while untying the waist of her skirt. It flows from her and pools at her feet. I'm grinning like a jackass. With a growl, I pick her up. She squeals again, wrapping her legs around me and gripping my head. She kisses me deeply, leaning into me.
I press her back against the smooth bark of the willow; lost in my want to fuck her until she loses pieces of herself. She grips the tree in desperation as she gasps and moans. Subtle streams of sweat roll off her shoulders as I orchestrate our shared reverie. She looks up at me, breathless and flushed, then pulls herself up by my horns. She rocks her hips against me, quickening her pace and moaning loudly. After a moment she tenses and cries, arching her back, pressing her head against the tree. "Gods!" Quaking with pleasure, she wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me once again. My heart is racing with the satisfaction of her climax. I carry her over to a soft bed of leaves and lay her down.
I take a moment to savor how beautiful she is beneath me. The reflection of the moonlight making her skin glisten like precious treasure. Her breasts fall beautifully across her chest, delicate, supple, and aroused. My cock is throbbing, craving her embrace once again. She looks at me desperately and furrows her brow, gently kicking her feet like a brat. "Fuck me!"
My eyes connect with hers, my dark heart needing desperately to be fed. "Beg me."
She locks her ankles behind my back, shifting her body, lightly running her tender lips over the head of my member. Her burning amber eyes plead, flushed lips now pouting like a supplicant. "Please fuck me! I want you!"
Her words are unbearably seductive, and her obedience sends a chill through me. I reach down and firmly slide two fingers over her eager heat.
She gasps and squirms at my touch, breath heavy, body shuddering. "Gods! Please fuck me! I can't stand it!"
I watch her face twist with pain from her erotic hunger for me. I drag my cock across her soaking wet frustration, coating myself while drawling, "Say my name."
She reaches up and grips the back of my neck, looking deep into my eyes. "I want you, Vash."
I hold her gaze and glide myself into her. She gasps sharply, the anticipation having worked her into raw bliss. "YEEESSS! Gods! Fuck me!"
I grip her hair and obey, each thrust elicits a sensual whimper. She puts her hands on my thighs, rocking her hips in time with my motion. She moves faster, and I match her pace, placing my forehead on hers as I angle myself to penetrate her completely. Her whole body trembles as her breath becomes stilted. With a surge of pleasure, she gasps. "FUUUUUUCK!!!" Her back arches once more, toes curling, fingers gripping my thighs tightly. I am mesmerized by her glow as she is enveloped by her climax. She shudders and sighs deeply as she releases the euphoric high. I caress her flushed cheeks, savoring the pleasure I can give her. She grabs my hand and kisses my palm. Gratitude. I move within her again, tender but still possessive. Something inexplicable shifts within me. I want her. I deserve her. She belongs to me, and I will do anything to keep her. I will become her exultation. Will it be enough?
My hand moves to her neck as I continue to fuck her, feeling a desperate heat pulsing through me. Her throat swallows reflexively against the pressure of my hand. She taps me, signaling that I should relent. I don't. She grows frustrated, clawing at my hand and kicking in futility. The angle is too awkward for her feet to gain purchase. A beautiful panic sets in, and she reaches for my face. It's always the face. I grab hold of one of her wrists and pin it down; her other hand still struggling to claw herself free from me. You're killing her. She's going to die tonight. Cherish her. Slay her. Want her. KILL HER. Take her. MINE. Her chest convulses, and my body crackles with power. Erotic. Euphoric. Unbearable. The light leaving her eyes adds to the frenzied desire in my dark heart. My arms shake with the strength of my grip, and I can feel her pulse growing shallow. I will plant my seed in her corpsed womb, consecrating her body like a hallowed grave. She should feel honored to be venerated by me in the name of Bhaal. "I wish you could live long enough to appreciate this."
I am dropped back into my body, waking up with a jolt. I'm leaning against the trunk of the willow tree, alone. I take a moment to gather myself. The night is tepid and tranquil; the moon still hangs high in the dark sky. The stars oblivious to my disorientation. Toads chirping in the riverbank like nothing's happened. I quickly get to my feet, though I'm staggered by the fog in my head. Bex is nowhere to be seen. Is she still alive? Did I tear her apart? I look at my hands, clean. I don't feel like I'd been doing anything except sleeping for the past few hours. No ache in my arms, no feelings of fighting through a struggling victim. It doesn't even feel like I've had sex, although I'm horny as hell right now.
I search the ground for any sign of her, swiftly walking around the tree but finding nothing. "Bex?" My tone is urgent, almost as if I'm commanding her to appear.
She's not here, and in a panic I run to camp, hopping the stones two at a time before making it back. Astarion and Shadowheart are still asleep, exactly how I left them, but Bex isn't in her bed. The ominous silence of the night seeps into me. I stand confused, chest heaving, thoughts growing wild. I grip my head; why the hells did the wretched thoughts have to permeate my dreams of all things? Do I have no sanctuary from Bhaal's whispers? Even for one gods forsaken night? A deep resentment builds within me and I run my fingers through my hair, "Fuuuuuuuuck." I take a sharp breath through my nose, closing my eyes, and feeling the night air fill my lungs. I hold the breath for a moment. Two moments. Three. I finally give a long exhale and focus. I should head back to the willow to collect myself. I can't risk Astarion and Shadowheart seeing me like this. I am... Unnerved.
My eyes are searching, as if looking at the same place twice will manifest her. Is she ok? Something in my mind pulls forth latent thoughts of her through all of the maddening detritus. The brush of her tail against me. Her arms locked around my neck as she kisses my cheek. Her hand clinging to mine. As I make it to the tree, I look at where we sat and wonder if that was all a dream too. The butcher begging to be coddled. That fleeting joy was nothing I truly deserved, and yet I have never desired anything more in my life. The only gift I could offer for everything she's given me was a quick snuffing out. It's all I'm good for.
My body relaxes, finally accepting the very nature of who I am. I see now that fighting it won't keep me from my killing fate. By Bhaal's will, I tend the flock until the day of slaughter comes. I live to serve and care only for Him.
But I've already broken that tenet... I care deeply for myself, and I do not regret doing so. How long have I been falling? Was I punished for my heresy? Is that why I'm here now?
The sharp blades of the weave cut at me like I've never felt before, and I hear a sniveling voice coiling into my ears from behind.
"Mi'lord!?"
I turn swiftly to find some sort of profane goblin in a suit and top hat genuflecting with adoration. "It is you! I've been searching the whole of the Sword Coast to find you! Sceleritas Fel, your loyal and ever adoring butler." He bows deeply.
I stare at him, not sure how to process his theatrics. "My... Butler?" I swiftly look around. "Is this another dream?" I can't trust my own mind.
His giddy laughter is sharp and grating, "This is no dream, young master! I've come to aid you. The sacrifice of the bard was a master class in ritualistic murder; it's what called me to you. Father was so proud! Oh, Master, I'm so happy to have found you!"
My hair stands on end at the mention of her. "You know about Alfira? Can you tell me what happened that night? Why did I blackout? Why did Bhaal demand I sacrifice her? "
He jumps with delight, holding his hands out to me, continuing with his reverence, "Instinct happened! Bhaal did not predestine her as a victim, M'lord, you marked her yourself. A clever choice, and your lure was flawless. Even in your ruined state you continue to behave with the decorum befitting your station."
His dark beady eyes are watching me like a proud uncle. Though his oily grin reeks of deception, I can't get a handle on what he might be lying about. "I didn't mark her though. The voice that beckoned her to join wasn't mine."
He scoffs, "A voice inside your own head? Not yours? Young Master, you have always needed... Extra care. I am loathed to consider what lapses you have suffered without my guiding hand."
"Lapses." I feel a pang of desperation. "Can you help me control them? I can't keep stumbling around slaughtering allies in my sleep. One whiff of blood could break their faith in me. I need these people if I am to survive in my current state."
Sceleritas grins wide, an air of mischief about him. "It is in knowing yourself, that you can gain the control you seek."
With a sweeping gesture of his gnarled fingers, he summons forth an object that manifests in the space in front of me. I reach out and grasp a neatly folded garment. An invisibility cape. Mine. It even smells the way I remember. "The Deathstalker Mantle." My eyes grow wide. "I was a Deathstalker." A rush of pride surges through me to be counted among Bhaal's most elite assassins. A lofty title. I look down at my light armor. Ominous, dark, and whisper quiet; I would be a ghost on a night hunt, if I left behind my precious greatsword, bracers, and sabatons.
He postures, his voice warbling with conviction. "As a Deathstalker, you are sworn to make a sacrifice in His name every tenday, or the killing urge will overwhelm you once again. If you honor your lord, you will remain in control."
I cling to the cape and shake my head. "I don't understand. Deathstalkers are usually clerics, why am I a Paladin? Why am I different?"
He grins, approving of my questions. "You are a Paladin because you are suited for such an honor. It is who you were made to be."
"Made?" The word lingers, and suddenly everything clicks into place. Bhaal's favor, the unyielding urge to kill, and the Deathstalker's pride. It's almost like I knew it all along. "I'm a Bhaalspawn."
He jumps and squeals, clasping his hands with delight. "I knew master would catch on! You were always such a clever boy!" He turns wistful as he recalls my younger days. "So hungry for knowledge, curious to a fault. Such an easy boy to teach."
My skin crawls as he speaks of my past. Remnants of that child have survived the ruins of my mind, but only to guide me back to The Father. It seems my devotion is what anchors my tempestuous soul above all.
He places a hand on his chest in veneration. The familiar acrid magic rushes through me like probing fingers and fills me with desire and dread. My body shudders with the pull of sensations. "Reclaim yourself, m'lord. Follow the path of Conquest once again."
His words break open a prescient awakening within me. At last, my hungry heart has purpose. My Oath, in the name of my Father, is Conquest. This is who I am—who I was always meant to be. In a flash, the light of my Oath appears above me. I feel time slow, and the night grows still, hushed by the presence of Bhaal. I bend the knee and reach for my inevitable fate.
For every seed Chauntea sows in life's fertile soil, I am the pestilence that blights her fields.
I am The Reaper who tallies the dead, triumphant.
Where I cast my judgement, the Damned will fall.
My name is the hymnal of fear that foments devotion.
My conquest will be unrelenting, until the world falls silent at my feet.
I swear this Oath to Lord Bhaal.