[She had thought plenty of terrible things that night, but nothing aimed at Astarion. She deserved to be shunned. She deserved to feel like a monster.]
If I recall correctly, I left. [Her head bows as she looks down at their hands. ] I was ashamed. I am ashamed. And you were right, I chose a side. Not Dion's or Clive's, but my own. Selfishly. I've disappointed everyone, you included.
[How it stings. Jill shakes her head, not able to bring herself to look at him hust yet.]
You did the right thing. I would have done the same, were I in your position.
[Her side. She says she chose her side, and he cannot help but doubt her. But his jaw shifts, locks rather than give voice to it. Who is he to claim he knows her? Who is he to judge? Well, out loud, anyway.
He peeks back at her, and finding her looking away, he pulls her hand up and holds it against his chest. Red eyes linger, but he doesn't prompt her to look at him. He just waits for her to do so.]
Hm. I don't know. Am I disappointed that you tripped over me last year?
[It's lighter. He musters a little curve to the smile that peeks through a very deliberately thoughtful expression.]
Obviously, for making me return that jacket, yes. But the tripping was nearly worth it...
[She does look up when he moves her hand. He's trying, and he said he cares, and that matters to her. She must try, too. There's not quite a smile on her lips, but something less gloomy in her eyes even if they remain a touch bright, a little too glassy.]
It was, to gain a friend like you. You're kinder than I thought, and I already had my suspicions.
[He's trying to deflect and she's not letting him. His bravado falters, eyes dipping as he squeezes her hand.
Because she's wrong. No matter what he might be now, there's been so much, and the idea that he could just be dropped back into it...
She deserves far better, yet he can't let go.]
When Karlach...
[He stops himself, closing his eyes, tapping her captured hand against his chest.]
Don't take this the wrong way, [he starts over, chuckling, trying to,] but she'd fight you tooth and nail for the title of my first friend, so I'm afraid you'll have to be content with second place.
Oh, I'd never dream of taking that away from Karlach. Second suits me just fine.
[It's where she usually sits, anyway. Dion and Clive reminded her of that very recently, in fact. But that's an irrationally bitter thought that pops up, and she swallows it down with a smile and a step closer to Astarion.]
Thank you.
[He could have chosen to not reach out and she would have let it be out of shame. Now, she at least hopes they're closer to being on the same page--they both care for Dion, and while Astarion may not care for Clive, there's more to the story than just a man losing his temper. Still... he cares about her, and she will cherish that.
Her smile dims as she needs something clarified before she says more.]
[It's not that he means in rank, honestly. He means chronologically, but without prompting he doesn't know to clarify. In any case her question dashes any concern from his mind, a dozen conflicted feelings chording through him. Not the least of which, of course, twist his mouth, and settle heavy on his tongue.]
No.
[He practically croaks. His eyes open, but turn away from her. When he continues, his voice is painfully thin, whereas it had been too thick just a moment ago.]
He is very much alive.
[The begrudging amendment comes half under his breath.]
[Jill watches the expressions play across his face, the pain in his voice. She doesn't regret asking, for digging a little deeper, because she thinks it better for her to know where he is int regards to this monster. She's only sorry this is a conversation they can have at all.
Her free hand comes to rest over his, over hers, trapping it as she turns her palm to hold it. Her voice is more steady and sure than it's been since she came out of the house.]
Then I pray that some day you get the opportunity to kill him yourself. That you find your peace.
[Maybe he's able to grasp that without killing this Cazador, but from Jill's experience, there's no true peace to be found when you're always looking over your shoulder, knowing he must be somewhere, doing the same as he always did.]
[Something about his expression shifts. The feeling that was so close and immediate and muddled a moment ago seems to hollow. His hand works between hers, curling around her hand. But he's also biting his tongue.
The bitter rejoinder dies in his throat, mercifully. Prayer had gained him nothing, no matter which god he had begged for his freedom. There was no fighting Cazador. There had been no escaping Cazador. No disobeying him.
Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures.
There hadn't been at least.
Not for the first time, there is a flickering mote of hope in the hollow of his chest, and not for the first time it aches more than when he had had none.
He swallows, pulling both her hands up to kiss the back of the one he had held against his chest.]
[That won't do. Jill pulls her hands from his so that she can cross what little distance remains between them to capture Astarion in a hug, arms around his middle.]
[Jill catches him deeply unaware, still floundering in his own thoughts, so her arms wrap him up without resistance. And even when the hug registers, it is only enough to spur his own to return the gesture, winding tight around her. His cheek lays against the crown of her head and he presses his eyes shut. He swallows the lump in his throat and he just holds her.]
[A moment like this with Astarion on an otherwise unremarkable day is surprising, but not unwelcome.
She remembers the weight around her neck that felt like a noose. It still visits now and then, reminding her of days long past, but it doesn't threaten to suffocate her.]
When I care for someone, it isn't affected by terrible things in the past. Whether they were forced to do things, or tricked... what matters is the person before me.
[It's a long time coming, and it's halting when it does. What he wouldn't give to let this topic die. To retreat into lighter things. But the words seems to come up on their own.]
If Cazador ever... If he arrives... [Or at least, he can't hold them back up until he truly has to force them out.] You cannot trust me, Jill. I can't...
[But no, that isn't strictly true anymore, is it?]
[In the silence, she simply waits. A hand smooths up and down his back. She's had worries about arrivals here herself, after the joy of finally having Joshua here. Imreann. Anabella. And what she would do if they dared speak a word to her or her loved ones.]
What makes you doubt yourself so?
[Jill pulls back just enough to look at his face, worried.]
[Eacapes more quietly, he lets her pull back, but his head rolls so that he can look at the sidewalk instead. Or perhaps through it, so distant is his focus.]
[Jill frowns and lets him avert his gaze. Cazador. She'll have to be aware of him, too.]
Whatever he is, I doubt he can contend with two Dominants. [Even if things may be uncertain between her and Dion, she knows he would help Astarion.] You needn't worry.
[Prior to the shared dreams, he might have scoffed at the idea. Before Dion, in all his draconic glory, had smote the bastard where he stood. Since that night, there has been an insidious question in his mind.
And if Jill's capabilities as a... Dominant were as powerful as Dion's, didn't that only increase the odds?
Wait...]
You -- [His eyes snap up to hers once more, and for a moment there is naked worry in that look.] Do you also have the petrification curse, then?
[He did not know about Dominants, but he knows of the curse. Of course. Jill can't hide the look of surprise in her eyes at the point blank question. She summons up a small smile before replying, hold shifting to his arms where she can give a reassuring squeeze.]
I do. [Shiva and Bahamut exact their price. So does the Phoenix. Ifrit, however... she's always been so glad that Clive has never felt what the rest of them do.] Mine is nothing to worry about.
[Something about his expression sinks when she confirms it, his gaze flicking down toward her arms as she squeezes his. Even though he's seen enough to reason that they aren't so afflicted.]
I suppose yours is not as far advanced... [He replies unsteadily.]
If... If we can find some Basilisk oil. Or... [He glances back the way he came.] I recently received some of Dalyria's research. She was looking into the blood curse. Didn't get anywhere with it, of course. But there might be some insight that will extend to your own ailment.
I wouldn't want you to get your hopes up. As much as I appreciate your concern...
[She would like a cure, but she also doesn't want him getting too invested in something that may prove fruitless. She's seen that disappointment before.
She shakes her head, sure to keep the smile on her lips.]
[The whole of it frightfully familiar. A blind search for a cure no one truly knows exists. Not being sure when you'll run out of time... Even in the face of her smile, his own expression remains cloudy.
As she's holding his arms, he sets his own on her waist. And then clucks his tongue at himself as he pulls her into another hug, arms winding around her, head settling against hers. His tone of voice, however, gains in his usual self-assured dismissal, covering over shaky uncertainty.]
Far from troubled, darling. Just exhausted even thinking about the amount of work you're going to put me through.
[The tight hug surprises her, but it's a sweet surprise, and she leans into him without second thought. She's not one to ever turn down affection after no many years of ungentle touch. She's sure enough of his character now to not second guess his intentions, his heart. She's also sure, given what he's told her, that anything physical can be more complicated than it seems.
It's why the kiss to his cheek is soft, and the one to the corner of his mouth softer, questioning.]
[It's strange enough to him as well, that he feels no discomfort with her slotted so easily into his personal space, that even divorced of far more lecherous contexts, holding her is easy and warm. Strange enough that he is reaching for physical touch to comfort, that he is reaching for comfort at all. But a certain tension bleeds from his shoulders when she leans into him, and Astarion relaxes after a moment.
Certainly enough that her kiss to his cheek is noted and not reacted to. A gentle gesture to be treasured, of course, but not one that demands immediate reply. It's the one that lands more tentatively on the corner of his mouth that prompts him to shift. His head turns, even so close to her, gaze drifting toward hers in search of confirmation, before it dips to her mouth and he leans in to mirror that kiss. His lips soft and entreating on the corner of her mouth for a moment, before he turns his head to plant a proper kiss square on her mouth.]
[Her wordless question gets a wordless answer. It gives Jill more courage, and while that seeps in to the kiss, she doesn't let herself get too carried away. Not now. They are still within view of the house, after all. It's not polite.
She breaks off the kiss with an amused smile. It carries a touch of embarrassment because she's hardly experienced initiating a kiss with people she doesn't make a habit of kissing regularly, but it's fun in its own way. He's fun, and sweet, and she's sure he's fought hard to be who he is now.]
I've been wondering when that would happen. Didn't think I'd be the one to initiate.
[Astarion, on the other hand, is not particularly cognizant of the house anymore. Most of his focus is somewhat absorbed. And while he does not press for more, he does not fail to linger until Jill pulls away. His arms shift around her, loosening so that he can settle his palms against her spine. And his gaze is a little searching, or maybe studying, when it returns to her face.]
In my defense, you're living with your... [He's not sure there's a word for what Clive is to her. And he's certain he doesn't know the full story, so he lets that comment fall off. Lifting one arm from around her, he reaches up to brush her hair a little further out of her eyes, though ultimately it's just an excuse to stray his fingers against it.]
Besides, how ever would I live it down? Kissing an outlaw of all things.
[Jill seems perfectly content to let his hands rest where they wish, studying his face in turn. She's relaxed and at ease despite the slight tinge of pink on her cheeks. It really wasn't that much of a gamble, going in for a kiss, but the success still has her blood buzzing.
It all dims when he alludes to Clive. Right. She may as well be honest. Look at her, learning from past mistakes.]
He left me last year. He lives in the basement and we both live our lives as we see fit. [Sometimes that means sleeping with other people, sometimes that means breaking someone's nose. She tips her head towards Astarion's touch, inviting more, because it's been a lonesome time ever since that awful night.] Things were better between us before he did what he did to Dion.
[Speaking of which... she supposes she should have investigated this before kissing Astarion, but to be fair she truly didnt expect to kiss anyone today.]
Are you and Dion...?
[There's something going on there, but she wonders what, exactly, it is.]
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If I recall correctly, I left. [Her head bows as she looks down at their hands. ] I was ashamed. I am ashamed. And you were right, I chose a side. Not Dion's or Clive's, but my own. Selfishly. I've disappointed everyone, you included.
[How it stings. Jill shakes her head, not able to bring herself to look at him hust yet.]
You did the right thing. I would have done the same, were I in your position.
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He peeks back at her, and finding her looking away, he pulls her hand up and holds it against his chest. Red eyes linger, but he doesn't prompt her to look at him. He just waits for her to do so.]
Hm. I don't know. Am I disappointed that you tripped over me last year?
[It's lighter. He musters a little curve to the smile that peeks through a very deliberately thoughtful expression.]
Obviously, for making me return that jacket, yes. But the tripping was nearly worth it...
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It was, to gain a friend like you. You're kinder than I thought, and I already had my suspicions.
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Because she's wrong. No matter what he might be now, there's been so much, and the idea that he could just be dropped back into it...
She deserves far better, yet he can't let go.]
When Karlach...
[He stops himself, closing his eyes, tapping her captured hand against his chest.]
Don't take this the wrong way, [he starts over, chuckling, trying to,] but she'd fight you tooth and nail for the title of my first friend, so I'm afraid you'll have to be content with second place.
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[It's where she usually sits, anyway. Dion and Clive reminded her of that very recently, in fact. But that's an irrationally bitter thought that pops up, and she swallows it down with a smile and a step closer to Astarion.]
Thank you.
[He could have chosen to not reach out and she would have let it be out of shame. Now, she at least hopes they're closer to being on the same page--they both care for Dion, and while Astarion may not care for Clive, there's more to the story than just a man losing his temper. Still... he cares about her, and she will cherish that.
Her smile dims as she needs something clarified before she says more.]
Is Cazador dead?
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No.
[He practically croaks. His eyes open, but turn away from her. When he continues, his voice is painfully thin, whereas it had been too thick just a moment ago.]
He is very much alive.
[The begrudging amendment comes half under his breath.]
As much as he can be.
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Her free hand comes to rest over his, over hers, trapping it as she turns her palm to hold it. Her voice is more steady and sure than it's been since she came out of the house.]
Then I pray that some day you get the opportunity to kill him yourself. That you find your peace.
[Maybe he's able to grasp that without killing this Cazador, but from Jill's experience, there's no true peace to be found when you're always looking over your shoulder, knowing he must be somewhere, doing the same as he always did.]
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The bitter rejoinder dies in his throat, mercifully. Prayer had gained him nothing, no matter which god he had begged for his freedom. There was no fighting Cazador. There had been no escaping Cazador. No disobeying him.
Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures.
There hadn't been at least.
Not for the first time, there is a flickering mote of hope in the hollow of his chest, and not for the first time it aches more than when he had had none.
He swallows, pulling both her hands up to kiss the back of the one he had held against his chest.]
Thank you. [He breathes, his eyes wet.]
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I care about you, too.
[She doesn't think she said it.]
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She remembers the weight around her neck that felt like a noose. It still visits now and then, reminding her of days long past, but it doesn't threaten to suffocate her.]
When I care for someone, it isn't affected by terrible things in the past. Whether they were forced to do things, or tricked... what matters is the person before me.
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If...
[It's a long time coming, and it's halting when it does. What he wouldn't give to let this topic die. To retreat into lighter things. But the words seems to come up on their own.]
If Cazador ever... If he arrives... [Or at least, he can't hold them back up until he truly has to force them out.] You cannot trust me, Jill. I can't...
[But no, that isn't strictly true anymore, is it?]
I don't know that I can disobey him.
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What makes you doubt yourself so?
[Jill pulls back just enough to look at his face, worried.]
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[Eacapes more quietly, he lets her pull back, but his head rolls so that he can look at the sidewalk instead. Or perhaps through it, so distant is his focus.]
My will is not my own, should he command it.
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Whatever he is, I doubt he can contend with two Dominants. [Even if things may be uncertain between her and Dion, she knows he would help Astarion.] You needn't worry.
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And if Jill's capabilities as a... Dominant were as powerful as Dion's, didn't that only increase the odds?
Wait...]
You -- [His eyes snap up to hers once more, and for a moment there is naked worry in that look.] Do you also have the petrification curse, then?
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I do. [Shiva and Bahamut exact their price. So does the Phoenix. Ifrit, however... she's always been so glad that Clive has never felt what the rest of them do.] Mine is nothing to worry about.
[It's easy to hide, internal as it is.]
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I suppose yours is not as far advanced... [He replies unsteadily.]
If... If we can find some Basilisk oil. Or... [He glances back the way he came.] I recently received some of Dalyria's research. She was looking into the blood curse. Didn't get anywhere with it, of course. But there might be some insight that will extend to your own ailment.
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[She would like a cure, but she also doesn't want him getting too invested in something that may prove fruitless. She's seen that disappointment before.
She shakes her head, sure to keep the smile on her lips.]
Do not trouble yourself overmuch, Astarion.
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As she's holding his arms, he sets his own on her waist. And then clucks his tongue at himself as he pulls her into another hug, arms winding around her, head settling against hers. His tone of voice, however, gains in his usual self-assured dismissal, covering over shaky uncertainty.]
Far from troubled, darling. Just exhausted even thinking about the amount of work you're going to put me through.
[His arms wrap tight again.]
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It's why the kiss to his cheek is soft, and the one to the corner of his mouth softer, questioning.]
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Certainly enough that her kiss to his cheek is noted and not reacted to. A gentle gesture to be treasured, of course, but not one that demands immediate reply. It's the one that lands more tentatively on the corner of his mouth that prompts him to shift. His head turns, even so close to her, gaze drifting toward hers in search of confirmation, before it dips to her mouth and he leans in to mirror that kiss. His lips soft and entreating on the corner of her mouth for a moment, before he turns his head to plant a proper kiss square on her mouth.]
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She breaks off the kiss with an amused smile. It carries a touch of embarrassment because she's hardly experienced initiating a kiss with people she doesn't make a habit of kissing regularly, but it's fun in its own way. He's fun, and sweet, and she's sure he's fought hard to be who he is now.]
I've been wondering when that would happen. Didn't think I'd be the one to initiate.
[She's not so shy that she can't tease.]
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In my defense, you're living with your... [He's not sure there's a word for what Clive is to her. And he's certain he doesn't know the full story, so he lets that comment fall off. Lifting one arm from around her, he reaches up to brush her hair a little further out of her eyes, though ultimately it's just an excuse to stray his fingers against it.]
Besides, how ever would I live it down? Kissing an outlaw of all things.
[He, nevertheless, teases back.]
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It all dims when he alludes to Clive. Right. She may as well be honest. Look at her, learning from past mistakes.]
He left me last year. He lives in the basement and we both live our lives as we see fit. [Sometimes that means sleeping with other people, sometimes that means breaking someone's nose. She tips her head towards Astarion's touch, inviting more, because it's been a lonesome time ever since that awful night.] Things were better between us before he did what he did to Dion.
[Speaking of which... she supposes she should have investigated this before kissing Astarion, but to be fair she truly didnt expect to kiss anyone today.]
Are you and Dion...?
[There's something going on there, but she wonders what, exactly, it is.]
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