That Unwanted Animal
Ship(s): Enver Gortash x Tavtari (Mention of Astarion x Tav) Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Summary: Tav confronts her weird ex-situationship after discovering the uncomfortable truth of her past A/N: A snippet from a MUCH larger piece! Takes place during Act 3, the night after Gortash's coronation. Posting because my friends really liked it
(Divider by @saradika-graphics)
Gortash awakes with a familiar feeling of cool metal at his throat. The human’s eyes try to adapt to the darkness as he realizes the candles in the room had been snuffed out. But he doesn’t need to see to know who holds the dagger to his throat.
“Tavtari.”
“Gortash.”
“I take it your band of misfits don’t know you’re here?”
Had it not been for the blade on his neck, Gortash would have assumed Tavtari left as quietly as she came in. “They don’t.”
“I surmise you’re here to kill me? He feels the tip of the blade scratch his Adam's apple as he speaks.
“That privilege goes to Karlach.”
“Oh?” Gortash muses, “She’s forgiven you? Her and her bleeding heart— well… how much can her heart bleed if she doesn’t have one?”
Tav flicks her wrist and Gortash feels warm blood trickle down his neck, the cut isn’t big— no longer than his pinky and no deeper than a parchment cut. “Don’t.” Tavtari hisses.
“There’s that Urge.” Gortash grins, heart in his throat. There it is again, the lord hanging knowledge over Tav’s head yet again. She feels the dagger tremor in her hand for one moment, he knows her enough to know about her Urge. “Well if you’re not here to kill me, there are only so many reasons for one to sneak into another’s bedchambers at moondark.”
“Talk.” Tavtari grunts out the word, “I’m here to talk, Gortash.”
“You used to call me Enver.” He says it so quietly that the druid almost misses it. How desperately she wants to jump for that knowledge he holds, how desperately she wants— no how desperately she needs to know her past. But no Bhaalist would jump for a Banite.
“How am I supposed to find Orin if she can change her form so easily?” Tav asks.
Gortash hesitates before he speaks. “Sheath your blade and let us talk like the partners we once were.” There’s another moment of hesitation before Gortash feels pressure of the blade leave his neck. He says nothing as he moves from his bed to relight the candles Tav had blown out. The tiefling eyes the human cautiously as he reaches for his robe and wraps it around himself. Strange— how Tav can stand in full armor with a weapon in hand, while Gortash walks around in an evening robe and the latter feels less threatened. Tav wonders if their dynamic had always been like this.
She begrudgingly follows him into a study attached to his room.
“Come,” Gortash gestures to a plush chair across from the one he has claimed, “Sit and we’ll ‘talk’.”
Gortash looks at Tav and mentally notes the differences that occurred in the time he’d seen her last: her copper hair is longer and less wild. She’s thinner too, their cheeks somewhat hollowed. Gortash wonders if her toned muscles are still there under her leather armor. The spattering of freckles across her face are more pronounced, as if she had spent tendays in the sun before returning to Baldur’s Gate. But the most noticeable change is their eyes. Tav’s left eye hasn’t changed, the deep blue eye is like many tiefling eyes he had seen before— lacking a pupil but having a pitch black sclerae. It’s her right eye that has changed completely, most noticeably is the white sclera and black pupil. This new eye is blue as well, but it is a light blue, Gortash resists the urge to lean in closer to her and take a proper look, he can swear there's a bit of gold in the center. He desperately wants to ask what had happened to her, why she abandoned their plan… why she abandoned him. They both have questions for the other, but only one has answers.
Tav sits across from Gortash. “Orin.” Tav repeats, knife still in hand. She glances at the new cut on his neck and bites back a smile.
“Even horror has a home. Find her nest, slay her there. The Bhaal Temple, your old haunt, now reeks of her ichors. Hm. Do you even remember how to find it?” He teases.
The lie comes as quick and easy as a kill. “Yes.”
He knows it’s not the truth. “It’s a secret even to me. You’re resourceful— I trust you’ll sniff it out. If the trail goes cold, follow the bodies.”
“Surely your Steel Watch can handle Orin. Why do you need me?”
“Orin is… elusive, shall we say. The grip of the Steel Watch may be tight, but sand still slips through its fingers. Some conflicts are best resolved quietly.” After a moment he adds, “You’ve slipped past not only my Steel Watch but my personal guards completely unnoticed to get in here, that is, of course, you’ve left your signature carnage behind, hm?”
“I haven’t killed anyone… tonight.” Tav needs more answers, “Why is the crown failing?”
“It’s not.” Gortash huffs, “But it will not follow new orders until the Netherstones are united to give the command. When it finishes executing its current orders, it will be free to do as it wishes. That would be bad for everyone. Once it is freed from its shackles, I doubt we’ll be able to bring it under control again, Tavtari.”
“Tav.” The druid corrects. “It’s just Tav.”
“Is it now?” The artificer asks, “Interesting…”
Tav tries to ignore the bait but can’t. “How did we meet?” She regrets the question as soon as it slips out of her mouth.
Gortash raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugs at his own mouth, “Our Lords.” He answers simply, “Bane and Bhaal each came to us in our dreams and named us their chosen, as I said, we alone hatched and executed our plan. Here,” Gortash leans forward and pushes a book that is sitting on the desk towards her, on top of the book also rests a single sending stone, “Maybe some of this will refresh your memory on the specifics of our old—” his dark eyes glance to their blue lips “—relationship.” He stands up suddenly and Tav tightens her grip on her dagger. “Now,” He makes his way to a wine cabinet, his back to her, “‘Tav’, has your taste in wine gotten any better? Or do you still prefer that dreadful Syl-Pashan Sup?” He turns back around, in one hand he holds two wine glasses by their stems and in the other he holds a bottle of Daggerford clarry and a bottle of Syl-Pashan Sup by their necks, the latter had been untouched since Tavtari’s disappearance. He is met with an empty room. Just as quickly and quietly as Tav had broken in, they made their escape. Annoyance flares within Gortash for a moment until he notices Tavtari had taken the book on the table, along with the sending stone.
The newly appointed Archduke places the wine back in the cabinet and opts for a half empty bottle of Mermaid Whiskey instead, he pours himself two fingers worth of the alcohol and drinks. His eyes flicker to the door to his bedchamber, he pours himself another shot as he remembers the times the two spent together. He pours himself yet another shot as he remembers how Tavtari looked at that pale elf that was with her— how he had never seen that look on their face before, never mind be on the receiving end of that look. She looked at the elf with Urgeless love in her eyes. She only ever looked at Gortash with lust— whether it be carnal or blood or something else, but never love. Are those burdened by Urges able to even feel love? He pours himself another shot as he thinks about exactly how much Tavtari had changed. He pours himself another shot as he wonders how long Tavtari waited before she moved on to someone else. He pours himself another shot as he— the decorative blue bottle is empty.
