These Cursed Hands (Touch Me With)

Part 23

Freeing the gnomes and the tieflings took longer than I expected, and my bones ached as I tucked myself into the corner of one of the boats we stole to flee via the river. At the other end of the boat, Astarion dipped his hand into the water, marveling at his own fingers as they dipped below the murky surface. I followed the muscular places of his forearm up to his shoulder, then to his face. Something had shifted in that blood trader's room. I could feel it, a subtle disturbance that nagged at the back of my mind the entire prison break. Astarion was different than before. I kept my eyes on his face as I traced my wrist, remembering the intensity of his hold. There'd been fear in that moment, and anger, but not at me. As a trio of deep gnomes celebrated between us, I felt as though Astarion and I were miles away from each other. I closed my eyes, resting my head on the edge of the boat and listening to the faint parting of the water. I hummed to its steady rhythm, the quiet lapping of water against the bow. I was alive, he was alive, everyone was alive. I should be happy, but all I felt was a deep and aching hollowness. Because we were not done.

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His ears twitched as the soft hums from his druid traveled across the water. He looked to see her curled against the front of the boat, eyes closed as her skin glimmered beneath the moon lantern. He wanted to go to her, wanted to hold her, but he had not yet found the courage. They'd had many conversations before, about expectations for each other. Promises and confessions. But he hadn't been completely honest with her. About his intentions, his desires, his thoughts. He'd want to rip his own hands off if he touched her now. He'd tell her the truth, and live with the consequences. She'd allowed him to make his own decision, and he needed to do the same for her. So he waited. Waited as they made it to the docks of the last light inn. Waited as the prisoners were inspected and then freed to reunite with their loved ones. Waited as Jaheria explained their plan of attack on Moonrise tower. Waited as Isobel spoke of freeing the Nightsong. Waited until the rest of the world fell quiet and she disappeared behind the blacksmiths, taking the crumbling bridge to a small resting place. He lingered in the shadows for sometime, watching as she climbed atop a ledge, pushing a rock for a while until giving up as laying against it. He became so lost in observing her that it surprised him when she spoke."Are you going to hide in the shadows forever, love?" Blood drained from his face, pooling into an anxious knot in his stomach. Would she ever call him that again? He was ready for it now, ready to commit himself to this woman despite the ghost of Cazador's shackle around his neck. He stepped into the quiet grotto, feet numb as he felt pulled toward her by some invisible string. Her gaze was void of curiosity, void of anything, as he approached her. There was an eerie sort of apathy in her eyes, as if she'd been wrung dry by the day's events. Her movements were sluggish as she reached a hand out toward him, smiling softly when he wove his fingers between hers. "You've been acting strangely today. Ever since we met that drow.""I had a lot on my mind." She tucked her chin against her chest, pulling his hand closer to her and playing absentmindedly with his fingers."Have you come to tell me about it?" She sounded so tired. So, so tired, Astarion wondered if he should wait. But he knew if he did not tell her now, he never would."I spent two hundred years using my body to lure victims back to Cazador. What I wanted, how I felt, it never mattered. The entire reason for my existence was to seduce anything with a pulse." Her fingers paused against his, breath ceasing as she looked up at him. She didn't say anything. She had a knack for that, for staying quiet while he worked up his courage. He wondered if her endless well of patience would run dry with him tonight. That fear made him look away from her, made him hang his head as he continued. "I...I had a plan. A nice, simple plan. To seduce you, sleep with you." Her grip on his hand tightened at that, and he could picture the memory she was experiencing. The conversation they'd had the day she woke from her coma. The fact that he assured her he wanted to sleep with her that night, and now she knew why. "I'd manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy, instinctive. The habits I formed in the past two hundred years took over. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I... all I had to do was not fall for you." He paused, taking a breath before finally meeting her eyes. Large tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, dripping from her chin and splashing the stone below. Her hands remained locked to his, her fingernails biting painfully into his flesh. She was trembling, almost imperceptibly, as sharp whimpers escaped her closed lips. Still, she did not speak. Did not scream or curse at him as he'd expected. She just held his gaze, unblinking as she let the silence suffocate him. "Perhaps you may suspect this, but that plan fell apart. It was bad enough when I witnessed guilt consume you because of my selfish actions, but today, when you proved to me that I was in control of my actions, that I could decide what I did and did not want to do, it unlocked something in me. Even though I was free, I was still letting Cazador control me, still letting my fear of him dictate my choices. And that meant I was hurting the person I've come to care so deeply about." He took a step closer, daring to wipe away a tear as it gathered beneath her lashes. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes as she swallowed back a sob."You are incredible, darling. And you deserve something real. For me, being close to someone, any form of intimacy, was something I did to lure people back for Cazador. I knew things were different between us, it felt different, I felt different, but it still seemed... tainted. Those feelings of disgust, of self-loathing, they consumed me all the more because I was acting that way toward you." When she opened her eyes again, the pity seeping from them nearly made Astarion drop to his knees. "I don't know how to be with someone. I want nothing more than to be by your side, to be your lover, to give you everything you deserve, but I fear you will only experience disappointment being with me." She sat up, pulling his hands into her lap as she nestled her legs on either side of him. Her face was a mask of consideration as she studied him, tears slowly drying as the seconds ticked by."I'm not going to say I was entirely unaware of your intentions." She murmured, holding his stare as she rubbed his knuckles with her thumbs. "The day after you fed from me, I wondered why I had been your target. Why you chose me over Gale, or Wyll, or anyone else. It was then that I realized what kind of power I had as the leader of this group. That I had enough sway to keep you or toss you out. I also realized that you noticed that power long before I did, and no part of me could fault you for acting on that knowledge. What hurt me, Astarion, is that you took it a step further and slept with me when I was disillusioned about your true feelings. I would not have, under any circumstance, willingly laid with a man who did not care for me in that way." Astarion imagined that the guilt he felt at that moment was only a glimpse into the pain she experienced that day. "And I have experienced disappointment with you. But I've also experienced joy, and anger. Sadness, and love. No relationship is going to be perfect, especially for a couple in a situation like ours." It took him a moment to process her words. Relationship. Couple. The label they'd both been dancing around this entire time. She wasn't turning him away, wasn't casting him out despite having every reason, every right too. She let go of his hands, reaching up to cup his face. She was so warm, and so kind, and smelled so nice. She was everything he'd never known, and everything he never wanted to forget. "You don't have to be perfect, Astarion. You just have to be good."