Chapter Text
“Don't you dare.” Astarion came tearing through the brush as Tav marched towards the druid grove.
“I'm going to tell him and you can't stop me.” Tav replied, looking behind her at the vampire spawn closing the distance between him. “Go back to the camp.”
“And let yourself get killed by that... tiefling?” Astarion was completely taken aback. “Because he will kill you, you know. You saw how he almost broke that man in half when we first arrived.”
He turned to face their other companion, Shadowheart. “Tell her she's crazy.”
Shadowheart shrugged. “I don't know exactly how Alfira died, Tav. None of us do.”
“I woke up with blood on my hands and her disembowelled body beside me.” Tav looked panicked at the memory. “It's... if I can't control this... thing inside me, these urges, then maybe Zevlor should kill me.”
“Come on Tav, I've sent hundreds of souls to Cazador.” Astarion complained. “I couldn't control myself then either, would you have me perish?”
“No.” Tav admitted, as she came to the green gate of the druid grove. The tiefling scouts above her noticed the party and began to slowly open the large stone door.
“Then what's the difference?” Astarion asked, finally coming to stand beside her.
Tav didn't answer, but began to slowly walk into the grove. “Someone in our care died in our camp last night, Astarion. What if I attack someone else?”
“Fine then. Go on. Get yourself killed.” The pale elf bit his inner cheek. “Maybe I'll pop by later then, to claim your tadpole off your corpse.”
“That's the spirit.” Tav muttered as she took one last look at Astarion and Shadowheart and went towards the cave that housed Zevlor.
Only he wasn't there when she arrived. She looked around the room at all of the books and reports sitting on the stone outcropping that served as his desk. A large, wooden chest lay in a darkened corner and for an instant her curiosity got the better of her. She wandered over, wondering what the ex-Hellrider kept for himself.
She wasn't skilled in the arts of thievery – that was more an Astarion thing - but he had taught her a trick or two. She could take just a quick peek inside...
“-Can I help you?”
Tav quickly turned to see the tiefling in question standing before her, resplendent in his armour. She wondered what he must have looked like atop a mighty warhorse, sword held high as he defended his city of Elturel. She felt small in his presence, and incredibly guilty.
His ears twitched just slightly at her silence, then his shoulders relaxed. “Oh it's you, Tav. What can I do for you?”
For a moment she hesitated, wondering if Astarion had been right. No one had to know that Alfira was dead, for all they knew she could have died on the road to Baldur's Gate from the goblins. From the gnolls... from...
“-I bring sad news, Zevlor.” Tav dropped her gaze and shuffled her feet. “...Alfira is dead.”
“Alfira?” His brows creased as his mind searched to put a face to the name. “Oh yes, the lovely singer.” He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers and sighed heavily. “Was it from goblins?”
He didn't suspect a thing. He was even giving her an out if she wanted one.
She truly wanted to confess, wanted to tell him. But she couldn't. She couldn't let him down like that. She could feel the urge inside her laughing from the deepest depths of her mind, enjoying the pain it was causing.
“...I don't know.” She whispered.. “...But she was in our camp last night. Then I woke up and she was dead.”
Zevlor looked confused, but then sighed. “I'm sorry Tav. That must have been terrible for you. So much death and tragedy surrounds us these days.”
She realized in horror that he was attempting to comfort her.
“No, Zevlor, I'm responsible, I-”
He put a hand on her shoulder and she felt a pain well up inside her. “-Thank you for telling me, Tav, I truly appreciate it. I know it must have been difficult, I can see she meant a great deal to you.”
“Can... can I stay here for a little while?” Tav asked, trying to look anywhere else but in his eyes. He looked so kind right now, and she felt as though she had completely betrayed him, betrayed everyone. She was a monster.
“Of course.”
His hand felt so warm.
She needed to distract herself. “What's in the chest?” She asked, pointing back towards the object in question. “I mean... I hope that's not a rude thing to ask.”
His tail twitched slightly as he looked at the large wooden box, lying unceremoniously on the stone floor. An ordinary human would have easily missed it, as it lay shrouded in darkness. A drow's eyes however were excellent in the low light. Perhaps seconded only by tieflings, as far as she knew.
Zevlor walked over to it, an unreadable expression upon his face. He tapped his clawed fingers on the wooden top and the hollow sound echoed through the emptiness of the cave.
He sighed again. “All that remains in here are just some things I took with me before we left Elturel.”
Tav noticed a cold bitterness when he spoke of his former home. She knew the gist of things, from other refugees in the grove. They had told her about the fall of Elturel, how it had been pulled down into the Hells, and upon it's re-emergence the tieflings had been blamed for it. They had been forced to leave the city and Zevlor had led them here. Tav knew more or less how they felt. Being a drow above ground was much the same.
Perhaps that is why she had begun to emphasize with them, care about them.
And then Alfira died...
“I... I should go.” Tav stammered, “...We buried the body. Shadowheart performed Sharran rites. If you'd like to say something or hold a funeral-” She was babbling and she couldn't stop herself.
Zevlor simply stood there, watching her, his fiery eyes lighting up in the darkness around them.
“The goblins will attack any day now.” He reminded her, his voice stern but his tone weary. “After the battle we can take some time perhaps, and mourn properly.”
“I'm sorry...” Tav muttered, turning and quickly leaving his presence. “...I'm so sorry.”
* * * *
“So I see you're back, alive and well.” Astarion commented as Tav slunk back to their camp later that evening. “Did our dear tiefling find it in his heart to forgive you?”
“His name is Zevlor.” Tav retorted, and poked at the campfire with a stick. She was rewarded with a large flame bursting through the middle as some of the logs collapsed.
“My mistake.” Astarion feigned embarrassment and a wicked grin came over his face. “You didn't tell him, did you?”
“I told him Alfira died, not how she died.” Tav sunk her head into her hands. “I just couldn't do it.”
“Splendid. Then there's nothing to worry about.” Astarion reminded her. “We can continue on our way. Weren't you planning on helping the drow paladin in the upcoming battle?”
“I...” It had been refreshing to meet another of her kin above ground in the goblin camp, one who greeted her with open arms. During their time in the camp, the goblins had shown Tav proper respect as well. Not like the druids who looked at her with disdain and fear. She could have beaten a goblin to death in front of the others and those that remained would have done anything she wanted.
The urge liked that. She hadn't told anyone, but she felt if Zevlor had attacked her in the cave that she would have attempted to rip him to shreds. The darkness inside her felt glee at the opportunity to claim more lives. All the lives of the tieflings and the stubborn druids that tried to expel them.
Zevlor had been different though. He had been wary at first, but he had only ever been kind and grateful to her.
Something in her chest hurt and she wasn't sure what it was. She could picture an empty grove, tiefling corpses littering the ground. She would walk into that dark cave and open up the locked box within, seeing what treasures the former Hellrider Commander kept for himself.
“See, this is what confuses me.” Astarion continued, breaking the silence. “Why go and talk to the tiefling if you're just going to let them all be murdered anyway?”
“Why indeed?” Tav sighed. “I'm going to bed now. Minthara is going to begin the attack tomorrow. If we are to open the doors for her we'll need to be in the grove before then. Goodnight.”
“I suppose I'll keep watch then?” Astarion offered, as Tav laid down beside him in her bed roll.
* * * *
Sleep hadn't come easy. Tav kept seeing the images of dead and dying tieflings in her head. The grove spoiled, and ruined. The goblins looting anything of value, killing those that tried to escape. Zevlor's body, lying on the cold, stone floor.
This is your destiny, Milady. Her butler, Sceleritas Fel had told her. Reclaim what you once were.
She woke up in a cold sweat, her head aching. The rest of her party slept soundly around her. Astarion was nowhere to be seen, most likely hunting.
There was nothing for it, she needed to walk and stretch her legs. Walking calmed the urge, kept her worst thoughts at bay.
She knew exactly where she wanted to go, even though every instinct told her not to.
You're too attached. She thought as she made her way through the woods. You'll never be able to let them die.
The entrance to the grove was closed, as was expected in the middle of the night. She smiled, and with a simple incantation lifted herself to the top of the gate. There would be few tiefling guards at this time of night, but even so Tav didn't want to cause a commotion. She carefully got down from the ledge that protected the gate and began to walk around, careful not to make a sound.
“Can't sleep?” She looked up and saw Zevlor approaching her.
She shook her head from side to side. The urge growled but remained strangely silent as the tiefling came to walk alongside her. They made their way slowly through the refugee camp.
“I too am unable to find proper rest tonight.” Zevlor continued. “It feels ridiculous, to be as nervous as a new recruit at a time like this. But I am truly worried. We are at the most refugees and not fighters. Sure we have a few who can cast a spell, or fire a bow. But it's not an army.”
He stopped and she stopped with him. He had led her back to his cave and the two of them were alone. A lone candle burned in the corner of his office space, casting long shadows on the walls of the rock.
“I've seen you coming from the direction of the goblin camp.” Zevlor said softly. “You've been there, haven't you? Have you told them of our location?”
Tav nodded.
“So you know what we're up against. How our odds look.” There wasn't any hint of accusation in his eyes, though Tav detected no warmth in them either. He mostly sounded... tired.
She simply stared. The urge inside of her laughed. Kill him now. It said. And see how their odds plummet.
“Well?” Zevlor was searching her face now, his brow slightly creased, looking for answers. He was so close to her, too close. When did he get so close?
She felt the pain in her chest begin anew. What was making it feel that way? Why did she want nothing more then to lean in and press against him and feel those soft hands upon her once more?
“You'll have more odds with us helping you defeat them tomorrow.” Tav blurted. “I can show you exactly where they'll come from.”
She could see the faintest trace of a smile on his lips as he walked her further into the cave and over to the map on his desk. She picked up the quill beside it and dipped it into the inkwell.
“Any other insight?”
She shook her head no as she marked the exact points where the attacks would start, and how many would be marching. “I'm not really much of a planner, I suppose.”
Liar. She could feel the urge trying to claw its way to the surface. If only you knew the plans you are capable of...
“Thank you.” She could see Zevlor's shoulders relax His tail twitched. “I think you might have just given us a fighting chance. Knowing you'll be there as well will lift their spirits.”
“They also have you, Zevlor.” Without thinking, Tav moved her hand to place it on his shoulder. “I have heard the other tieflings speak of how you were a Commander of the Hellriders back in Elturel-”
Zevlor immediately backed up and her hand fell to her side.
She must have looked shocked because he immediately apologized. “-I'm sorry... I just... I don't speak of those times anymore.”
He seemed to consider something then beckoned her to follow him. His tail twitched restlessly from behind as he led her to his locked chest. He tapped it a few times before coming to a decision and reaching into his pocket, produced the key and opened it.
Tav peered in to see the kind of things Zevlor felt needed to be locked away. Inside, among other things, were a pair of armoured gloves.
“Here.” He reached in and took them out, offering them to Tav. “I want you to have these.”
“What are they?” Tav asked, looking them over curiously. From her innate sorceror's magic she could feel holy power radiating from them.
“From my time with the Hellriders.” He looked at them fondly. “I have no use for them now. They might as well help your group in the battle tomorrow.”
“I can't accept these.” Tav replied, her voice sounding hollow. “They're important, a part of-”
“-Please.” He put them in her hands. “I want you to have them.”
“Thank you Zevlor.” She said, the sincerity of her voice echoing through the darkness.
“Well, I suppose we should attempt sleep.” He murmured, motioning that they should leave. “I'll walk you back to the entrance.”
She smiled, feeling herself growing warm from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She was grateful for the low light.
“Can I ask you a question?” Zevlor asked as they walked back towards the entrance to the grove.
Tav nodded.
“Why did you betray our position?” He muttered. “Is it because the goblin camp is being led by a drow? Were you always working together?”
Tav stopped walking and Zevlor stopped alongside her. “No, we were never working together. I just... I don't know.”
“I suppose I can understand wanting to help your own kin.” He muttered.
“Kin isn't everything.” Tav replied. “I spent time with everyone here... got to know them. Helped the children. Got to know you. Saw your dedication. And then...”
He raised an eyebrow. “-And then?”
“Things changed.”
“What kind of things?”
He truly didn't know. How she admired him, how she had begun to feel for the tieflings plight. She thought back to when she first arrived at the grove, how Zevlor had stood up for her against that arrogant human Aradin.
She needed him to know.
“May I?” She asked, leaning forwards. Perhaps this would help explain what her words couldn't.
She saw his ears twitch ever so slightly as she got closer. “May you... what?”
“Kiss you. Here.” She tapped his cheek lightly.
She could see his eyes widen in surprise. He turned away from her at first, not saying anything.
After a few seconds, she heard him mutter. “...All right.”
She leaned over and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. His skin felt so warm, so comforting. She saw his tail twitch anxiously.
“I... I'll see you tomorrow.” He said, clearly flustered.
She smiled. “I'll be back before first light.”
* * * *
“Oh, so we're helping the tieflings now?” Astarion muttered, as the group looked down from their vantage point over the gate. “When did this come about?”
Tav said nothing, though her eyes betrayed her as they moved towards Zevlor, who had recently given an impassioned speech about tiefling survival.
“Oh, Gods.” Astarion shook his head in disgust. “What have you gotten us involved in?”