"Of course it was for him. He's all I had," they keep their voice as even as they can. Their punishment is honesty, although theyre all too aware no one is happy with what answers they can provide.
That's one of the most frightening things about this grave they've dug - they dont know how much of themselves is left. Since latching onto this group, they've found themselves softened, if only by a miniscule amount, learned to laugh a touch easier, grown fond of trivial things like apples drizzled in honey and the little snores of an owlbear cub. They've changed, they know they have, but they've lost track of how much of that is a performance. The mask slipped at some point, or was jostled out of place, but they've no way to be sure if that was part of their dance, a subconscious tactical decision, or if they really do enjoy the company and the sunlight they've bathed in for the first time in years.
Before they can make their weak attempt at explaining this, she's coming at them.
There's that sudden voice, that awful, grating voice that scrapes along their skull, an Urge of their own, that begs them, demands of them to lay down, splayed in the dirt, exposed, defenseless, begging for the slaughter. What they deserve, what they've been staving off for so long. It would be so easy to let her kill them now- They can't bring themselves to move even an inch before Nan is shoving them.
The fall knocks the wind out of them and is sure to leave a few bruises. They nearly choke, terror blinding them for a few, awful seconds when they're sure that she'll follow through with a knife in their eye. Coughing, the ground scrapes at their hands and arms as they scramble backwards.
"That isn't- that isn't true," they stutter, trying to get a word in. This was a horrible idea. This was a stupid idea. They hope she tears their wretched heart out-
Iago flinches like they're struck again, forcing their own words out instead of the plea for death that sits unwelcome on their tongue, "You don't understand. I've- We've been through this before-"
Bhaal has just as much a hold on her as he does Iago and Puck. None of them have many choices to begin with. Iago was never under the impression they were doing the right thing, only that they were working with what little options they had.
"I've already watched him lose himself once. I've already seen what you had become, too, as things were. I couldn't very well sit by and let it happen all over again- He didn't want that. But I couldn't keep him- anyone- from Bhaal before, I- I didn't know how back then- So I thought... This time..." They know they're losing their composure, more than they ought to, more than they can afford while they're still sure she's going to rip them to bloody shreds any moment now-
They didn't come here to defend themselves, only to give answers. They're doing a poor job at either, and now a headache pierces behind their eyes and their nose begins to bleed, punishment for their blasphemy.
"It doesn't matter, does it? I was wrong. I knew it from the start." They just didn't know what else to do.
