The song was beautiful, one of the most lovely sounds that Astarion had ever heard. He felt far away, consumed by a strong desire to hear more. Before, he'd thought the tiefling child had been foolish, he hadn't understood why the child had felt it so important to cross the water to listen, but the moment he heard it himself, he understood. His feet carried him towards the water with little regard for whether he'd even be able to cross it. None of it mattered. All that did matter was getting close enough to the song, and the harpy that was singing it. There was no chance that the source of the beautiful song would hurt him, no matter how strong her claws.
A fireball soared above his head, hitting the harpy square in the chest and interrupting the music, and within seconds Astarion found himself returned to his head. Above him on the cliff, Faylen stood, her eyes narrowed and locked on the harpy. Her attack had interrupted the harpy's song long enough for him to get his bearings, to remember just what was going on and why he should definitely not be getting close to a harpy singing her song.
Calling him displeased for falling under the harpy's spell was an understatement. The anger and disgust he felt at the mere idea of falling under another creature once more caused him to raise his bow and arrow right at the harpy. "I'll skin you alive, you foul wretch!" He growled. Though he would have loved to make good on his promise, getting close to the monster was unappealing. The bow was safer, and so he released the arrow, letting it fly directly towards her throat.
The harpy fell from his strike, taking down the last of their enemies and allowing for the tiefling boy to run free. He ran back to the grove, stopping to talk to Faylen about some other tiefling he wanted them to meet. Astarion didn't really care enough to pay attention. Perhaps another day, or another time, he might have seen it as useful. Right now, after falling to the harpy's song, he just felt numb.
Less than a week after he was finally free of
his master's
Cazador's call, and his mind was already finding itself prey to another creature. He couldn't feel more pathetic if he tried, although at least this time the creature in question wasn't forcing him to perform sexual favors on top of robbing him of his free will.
As they left the cliff's shore behind, Astarion felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. "Are you alright, Astarion?" Though she normally took lead in their merry band of tadpole infected misfits, Faylen had fallen in step beside him.
He could be honest with her. She'd had a way of getting most of their group to talk to her, to trust her with things that none of them ever felt like they could be open about. Yet the idea of opening up to her about this made his stomach churn. He couldn't show weakness. Not if he wanted to be useful, not if he wanted her to see him as indispensable as a way to make sure she wouldn't get rid of him and leave him to fend for himself against the tadpole that had taken root in both of their minds.. "I'm fine. Thank you for your concern darling, but I'm sure the others will need you to tend to their wounds more."
Astarion had hoped that would be the end of it, and that she'd leave him alone, but his hopes were dashed the moment she frowned and said, "I'm not worried about any injuries. You just seem...far away right now."
Astarion did everything in his power to hide his reaction, unwilling to indicate even slightly to Faylen just how right she was. Of course she'd notice him start to separate himself from the situation after being compelled. Aside from his nails now digging into the palms of his hand, he doubted he'd had a single perceivable motion for her to catch. "It's nothing but a bit of hunger. With a bit of blood in me, I'll feel better."
She looked forward, checking to make sure that Shadowheart and Karlach had pulled far enough ahead into the druid's grove where they would have a moment of privacy before she tilted her neck towards him, inviting him to feed.
The offer was tempting. He would normally never turn down a chance to feed off of any living thing when the offer was right there, but the idea of drinking her blood felt nauseating with the mental state he was in now. He wasn't sure entirely how the blood he consumed worked, but he got the feeling that if it was anything like how food had once been, it wouldn't stay down. "Thank you, darling, but I'll be alright for now. Although...if the offer stands tonight..."
Faylen frowned, and gave him a once over. "Not like you to turn down any offer of blood..."
"Can't have you feeling weak on the battlefield all because I was a little peckish." Astarion gave her a smile, attempting to placate her. Later, he would feel better, less like any blood he drank would immediately come back up mixed with what bile his stomach could still produce. "Later, when we settle in for camp."
He expected that to be the end of it, that Faylen would turn to other matters and forget all about him and his hunger and let him walk into the grove with little more fanfare. Anybody else in the same position would do the same thing. Instead, she grabbed at his wrist. His smile had done little to comfort her, and it seemed as though she wanted to say more but couldn't find the words to continue the conversation. "Come now, darling, there isn't anything to be worried about."
"Everytime you keep trying to reassure me, the more sure I get that it's a lie." Her hand shifted down, now holding his as she gently massaged the back of it with her thumb. It was one of the most tender touches he had received, a gentle prompting for a truth that no matter how much he wanted to keep to himself, he couldn't stop from spilling out.
"It was the harpies." Faylen's eyes started searching his body for wounds at that, an injury that she hadn't noticed that didn't really exist. "I shouldn't have let myself fall prey to their powers."
Faylen shook her head in disbelief. "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself for that one, we all-"
"No." He raised his voice, and Faylen tensed. She was expecting him to lash out further, but instead he simply deflated. It was too late for him to just reassure her that he was mad at himself for being a weak little spawn. The only way forward was for him to tell her the full truth. "When...while I was still under Cazador's-" he spat the name out, unable to contain any of his hatred for his sire, "-thumb, it was hard to say no to him, impossible really." He tried to make his words come out lightly, as though he was hardly bothered by what had happened to him. "Sometimes, he would let us choose, letting the fear of punishment be what made us obey, but others..."
Other times, when the crime was something so repulsive that even Astarion could not justify it to himself that it needed to be done, the compulsions would come. He wouldn't even have the option to try to find a way out of it. His body, and mind, would refuse to listen to any desire to refuse, and he would go about the task in a sort of haze until it was finished and he was left with the knowledge that his body had been nothing more than a plaything for Cazador's desires.
Just like the harpy had done to him with her song.
Faylen, to her credit, understood immediately, without him having to say a word about just what his master Cazador would do to them. She dropped his hand for hers to immediately go to one of the daggers she kept hanging on her belt, and her eyes darkened. "I can go back and stab them again, just for good measure."
Astarion chuckled. He was unused to seeing this side of her, and to see her anger turned against a creature in the matter of his defense was appealing. There was certainly hope for him to seduce her to his side yet. "While I appreciate the sentiment, killing something that is already dead won't have stopped them from singing their song while we fought them, nor will it remove the damage that Cazador has done. I suppose I'll just have to be more careful in the future to stuff some cotton in my ears if another enemy begins singing midfight."
"Maybe it won't help you, but it would make me feel better knowing that they suffered for putting you through that." Still, her hand left the dagger and returned to Astarion's. "I'm...I know right now this is a difficult promise, especially since there's a, well...you know..." A creature psychically linking them that could control and destroy them at any moment. "But to whatever extent that I can, I'll make sure that nothing will take control of you ever again."
It was a nice reassurance, though empty. The tadpoles that were an ever looming threat over their safety were the only thing keeping him safe from Cazador's claim. "I suppose you'd better do your part in that and stop taking me into battle against harpies."
To his surprise, Faylen immediately nodded. "Of course. Next time I hear one singing, we'll run the other way...unless there's a kid in danger, but then you can just stay in camp and I'll take care of it."
That wasn't a solution he liked either. The idea of another creature puppeting her around the same way that he had been didn't sit well with him either, but he was willing to let that go for now. "I suppose that's enough of a promise for now."
She seemed content to leave it at that, dropping his hand and continuing on her trek to the grove, but that being the end of their conversation didn't sit well with him. "Wait, Faylen," she stopped to glance back at him, waiting to hear him out, yet the moment she did, the words wouldn't come to him. The silence between them stretched for almost an eternity before he finally found the words. "I want to thank you, for doing what you can to support me. I hadn't expected to find somebody who would want to protect me like that, or feed from me. It's...been surprising, but...nice."
She smiled. "You're welcome." He expected more insight into her mind, into her decision of why, but instead Faylen just continued on her path, leaving Astarion back at the entrance to the druid's circle.
He knew it wasn't any different than her attempting to help the tieflings out, or any other poor sap they'd managed to encounter along the way. It was who Faylen was, to try to help out the others until they'd given her a reason to act otherwise, yet as he watched her continue on his way he couldn't help but stand there, desperate for the reason she was going out of her way for him to mean something so much more.
He shook his head and started after her, returning to the rest of the traveling party they had assembled. That was a foolish line of thinking that would get him nowhere. Her kindness was just a tool to ensure his safety, and that was why he was disappointed it wasn't anything more from her.
He wasn't supposed to care for her. His disappointment couldn't come from something else, from a desire to be something more.
He wouldn't let it.