Gang of Weirdos

six - the scars left by Cazador

I awoke sometime after sunrise; Astarion was standing with his back to me, basking in the sun. He looked so... majestic, like a cat sunbathing at a window. His trousers were back on, but he remained shirtless- and those scars I had only felt the night before were on full display. My eyebrows furrowed.

"How was your rest?" he asked quietly as I gathered my clothes and began putting them back on. His back remained toward me, though he spared me a small glance over his shoulder.

"Quite well, actually," I said.

My gaze was fixated on his back, so I struggled a little with my pants. I closed the gap between us when I finally got them on, trailing my fingertips over the raised scar tissue on his back. Astarion shivered and immediately spun around.

"What are you doing?" he asked, snatching my hand out of the air. His words were sharp, but his eyes were alight with something different: fear.

"I- I was just looking at those scars on your back," I said. He furrowed his brows as he considered, and then let go of my hand. He turned back around.

"What is it?" I murmured, wanting to trail my fingers over the intricate design but resisting.

"It's a poem," Astarion said bitterly. "A gift from my old master, Cazador."

"The one that had you feeding on rats?" I asked. Astarion winced, and I mentally kicked myself. "Sorry. What's it say?"

"I've no idea," Astarion said. "The bastard was insane."

"Why'd he write it in infernal?" I continued on, furrowing my eyebrows as I recognized the lettering. It wasn't complete; fragments of something much bigger. But it was definitely infernal, and likely of some dark deal.

"Infernal?" Astarion asked, spinning around, feeling around his back himself. "I- I don't know... What was he up to?"

"Did you ever see him write in infernal before?" His gaze met mine then, and my own confusion was mirrored on his face.

"No, never," he said. He rubbed his chin in thought. "Doesn't mean he never did, though. He often hid away in his chambers. No matter, we should head back to camp; see what Halsin has to say about these tadpoles in our heads and what we can do about them."

"Before the others notice we're missing and send out a search party," I added, nodding my head. Astarion chuckled as he strode past me and gathered the furs from off the ground.

"Please, darling," he said. "With all the noise you were making, I think all of Faerûn knows what we were up to last night."

My mouth fell open. I felt heat flood my neck, face, and ears as he walked off through the trees. I hadn't been worried about that at all, as we were two consenting adults, but this man saw an opportunity to make me blush and seized it.