the currents of destiny (short story)

End of beggining

The night had stretched on and he still hadn't returned. She could feel the dried trails of tears on her cheeks, her face stiff with fear. Shadowheart lay curled up beside her on the bed, her presence a small comfort against the overwhelming sense of dread that consumed her body since last evening. His words rang in her head like a twisted mantra: I hope you die screaming, I hope you die screaming...

And the worst part was, from the look of his eyes, she knew he had meant every word.

As the first rays of morning stretched across the Elfsong room and Astarion was still nowhere in sight, she knew she couldn't stay there any longer. What if something terrible had happened to him? He had no weapons, no clothes, no coin... The thought twisted her stomach into knots. She needed to talk to him. Needed to explain everything to him.

The weight of her decision hung heavy on her heart as she slowly rose from the comfort of her bed. She took extra care not to disturb Shadowheart, who was still fast asleep beside her. The rest of their companions also seemed to be in deep slumber, their soft snores filling the room with a peaceful rhythm. With careful movements, she began to pack her belongings into a small bag, trying not to make any noise. The only sounds were the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional creaking of floorboards under her feet. Once she had everything she needed, she tiptoed towards the door and gently closed it behind her, leaving the others undisturbed in their dreams.

Once she was out of earshot, she released a heavy breath.

"Tav?" Wyll's voice broke the silence of the hallway, causing Tav to jump in surprise.

She turned around to find him standing there, her hand still gripping the doorknob.

"Wyll? What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to sound calm and collected even though her heart was still racing.

Wyll's expression was a mix of confusion and concern as he looked at her. "I could ask you the same thing," he replied.

Tav's mind raced as she tried to come up with an excuse. "I...I needed some fresh air," she said lamely, gesturing towards the door.

"At this time?" Wyll raised an eyebrow skeptically. His gaze was soft as he observed her. "Isn't it a bit early to leave?"

Tav's heart sank as she looked into Wyll's concerned eyes. She considered telling him the truth; if any of her companions would understand her motives, it would definitely be heroic, gentle and compassionate Wyll.

"I am going to look for Astarion."

Wyll's smile wavered and the playful light faded from his eyes.

"I had a feeling you would," He sighed, setting aside his wine cup and getting closer to her. "Yesterday was quite something. You must be feeling shaken."

Tav felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. Gods, why was she like this? She turned away from Wyll, unable to meet his understanding gaze.

"I failed him," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

Wyll's hand left her shoulder and gently turned her towards him so that their eyes met. "No, Tav. You did what was right. A pact with the devil is never a good idea, trust me on that."

"But I took away the only chance at freedom," she sobbed.

Wyll's face softened as he gently brushed away Tav's tears with his thumb. "You did what you had to do to protect him," he reassured, his tone firm. "We both know that the ritual would have trapped him just as much as it would have freed him." He smiled slightly. "And when we find Astarion, he'll understand too."

Tav's heart ached at Wyll's words. She knew he was right, but the guilt and regret were still eating away at her.

Tav looked down at her hands, "I'm sorry, Wyll. I didn't want to drag any of you into this mess, especially not anymore than I already have."