"The urges are calling on you again, aren't they? I haven't seen you sleep through the night once in the past days." He said.
I hadn't slept—not peacefully anyway—each attempt increasingly more pathetic than the last. My nightmares flooded into reality until it was nearly impossible to discern one from the other. I often woke screaming, clawing at nothing.
Through it all, however, I was never alone.
Jaheira and Astarion worked tirelessly in shifts when the nights turned restless. On Jaheira's nights, she sat beside me scimitars in hand, and on Astarion's he lay beside me, stroking my hair. I was a danger to the party, and I believed they both knew that. Yet miraculously, that never changed their perception of me. They never complained, they never judged, not even once. The guilt from it ate me alive.
Strength was more than physical. It was more than dominating an enemy or lugging around camp supplies. Mental strength was something unfamiliar to me—as most things were—and for some reason the more I felt like I could control the urges, the more I would slip. I lost my footing now and again, but this time I felt myself sinking into quicksand until nothing was left.
"Bhaalspawn, bhaalspawn…" My mind chanted my shame. I was forged by the Lord of Murder, but that thing was not me.
I was sick with exhaustion. I couldn't even let myself slip into reverie, let alone sleep, so I stared at the ceiling. My eyes burned, but the pain was something to focus on. Until his voice hit me, and my mask fell.
"That obvious, hmm?" I asked. I slid aside making room, as he sat on the edge of my bed. "Do patriars hoard wealth?" He sighed sarcastically, "Of course, it was 'that obvious', love." He caressed my cheek, running a thumb lightly over my brow. My eyes fluttered closed, and I opened them. "You're fighting it."
"Am not," I said and smiled, leaning my head into his hand. He let out a soft chuckle and rose from the bed. "Come, I have a bit of a… surprise for you." He said, his hand outstretched to me. I raised my brow with curiosity and took his hand in mine, as he led me to the other side of the rented rooms at the Elfsong.
There, the bath sat steaming in front of the moonlit window, filled with flowers and rosemary sprigs. I wanted nothing more than to fight my sleep, to protect those I loved around me.
However that night I was seen. I was safe. As I lay in his arms, water washing over me, I closed my eyes, just for a while.
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