Switching between Nyx and Astarion PoVs

They made it back in time to snag one of the larger tables that'll fit all of them. The Elfsong was filling up quickly at the working day's end, the waning light glistening on the river surface. A low lull hung in the air, the lament of lost love drifting between the guests until nothing but the unaccompanied ghost song remained. The occasional clink of a tankard would punctuate the song as everyone nursed their drinks quietly. Normal conversation rose once the ghost departed.

Lazy shadows crept up against the walls, and before they could plunge the tavern into darkness, driftglobe lights illuminated the space in crystal blue. Nyx preferred their light to lanterns; most taverns were so dimly lit that she'll be at risk of falling asleep in her food.

Gale tracked one of the globes as it floated past, and his gaze became distant. Karlach elbowed him in the ribs and he almost spat out his drink, choking terribly.

"What in the name of Blackstaff was that for?!"

She pointed with a clawed finger. "Your long face was about to reach Avernus."

He chuckled sheepishly, pink colouring his cheeks. "They remind me of home." He gestured with his tankard to the driftglobes. "The Crown of the North has them floating down every street at night. Every colour imaginable."

"Swish."

"Indeed, the City of Splendours is not above showing off."

A familiar voice greeted them, "Folks, what'll it be for sup?"

"Lakrissa!" Karlach shot out of her seat and swooped Lakrissa up in a hug. With her feet dangling off the ground; the sounds of choking started anew. Lakrissa's knees almost gave out when Karlach set her down; Tav was next in line for a more restrained hug.

Tav beamed, patting both Lakrissa's shoulders. "You look well! Bex said we'd find you here." Looking around, Tav asked, "Where is Alfira?"

"Right behind you."

After more hugs were shared, Alfira exchanged pleasantries with Tav's group while Lakrissa took their order. Nyx focused on Alfira's face, lest her garish performing outfit make Nyx's eyes water.

Alfira threw her arms wide in welcome. "We made it!"

Scribbling away at her notepad, Lakrissa said, "Damn right. Not even prissy druids or the Shadowcurse could stop us."

Halsin cleared his throat, a smirk teasing the corner of his mouth.

Lakrissa flashed a smile, unperturbed. "And later for dessert?" Making eye contact with Halsin, she asked, "How about a slice of apple pie doused with honey, nuts and berries?"

The suggestion drew a well-natured laugh from him. "You can bring a whole one."

"A bear's appetite to boot. Thank you for your patronage. Anything else?"

Several others agreed with the suggestion to order dessert after dinner, and Lakrissa saw herself to the kitchen.

Alfira put her hands on her hips and said, "I'm so proud, she's been promoted to 'floor manager', keeps everything running and only takes order from the 'important guests'." She was rewarded with a series of 'oohs' from their group, and her wink left a mischievous glint in her eye. She curtsied and greeted, "I have to make my rounds too. You'll still be here for the show, right?"

Tav put her hand over her heart and raised her tankard, the rest of them joining the toast. She said, "And miss out? Wouldn't dare."

---

Supper arrived in a selection of river-fare dishes; from pan seared fish fillets to mixed paella, squash stuffed with shrimp, and roasted eel on a bed of vegetables. The waiter also brought the port-city version of a ploughman's meal to enjoy separately or mix-and-match with the other dishes; the briny smell of salted fish was accompanied by the fresh green scent of rosemary baked into bread rolls. Glistening relishes of chopped vegetables and fruit stood ready to decorate any of the meals. Plates were brimming with white, yellow, and red meats dolloped with a colourful variety of astringent or sweet toppings.

Nyx had chosen a milder dish. She was not only fond of the taste, but its quirky name as well. 'Dearly departed creamed fish': a soup made from skinned cod. The blend of flaky fish, crunchy almonds and soft nutmeg reminded her of the first time she had experienced river-fare after Tufani returned from the mountains and stopped over at Blackgate.

There was an equally satisfied expression from the rest of her companions, each relishing in their own memories of the meals as children or, much like Nyx, as first-time visitors. Except for Lae'zel, who was eyeing the eel as much as it was eyeing her. She took cues from the others, carved a sizable chunk from the fish, lined it with every available relish, and dug in. Her expression belying nothing, but she didn't stop eating. Karlach, however, was savouring every bite, and she mumbled between mouthfuls of food and ale, "Avernus eat your heart out."

Empty plates were cleared away, and Alfira appeared, making her way to the middle of the tavern, lute in hand. She made herself comfortable on an unused barrel set against a thick supporting beam and played a pleasant, spritely tune. Nyx listened for a while, tapping her foot to the beat.

Astarion shifted next to her and refilled his glass. A liquid of dark mahogany that smelled of cinnamon, citrus and anise. He gave her a raised eyebrow, a smirk touching his lips. "Would you like a sip?"

Nyx made a face, and his grin widened.

"At least you're consistent in your aversion to fun."

She snorted. "Says the one who only stands around complaining about the wine at parties."

He tutted; his attempt at disapproval didn't last, and a sly smile spilt his lips. "Is that so?"

"Verifiable. Wyll, Shadowheart?" They nodded in concession across from Nyx. "See?"

"Well then, I'll need to do something about that. Wouldn't want the Lady of Dull to recruit me as follower too, now would we?"

Her retort got cut off by dessert being served.

Alfira's music gave way to the melancholy of the ghost song. Customers and staff listened to the melody whilst continuing their respective activities in silence. The man at the table across from theirs slurped loudly at his beer and was dutifully stared down by the other patrons into enjoying his drink more quietly. By the time the eerie voice had faded once more, Nyx had one 'Root-tail' left. She took her time with the next gooey spiral, carefully lifting it from the plate, its cinnamon and cardamom spiced syrup pulling into strings. Biting into it, the fried exterior gave way in a satisfying crunch, and the blend of spices and sugar intermingled with that of beetroot, carrot, and sweet potato within.

"Good folk of the Elfsong!" All heads turned to Alfira, now standing on top of the barrel, her eyes shining with delight. She grabbed ahold of her earlobe. "Lend an ear to my story! Pay attention and none of your lip!" Pointing at a table of young Fists, their helmets scattered on the table between tankards. Whistles and jeers rose from the table, along with the drumming of tankards and helmets against its wood. She waited for them to settle, then strung a jovial tune on her lute.

Tav downed her drink and said, "Oh, don't mind if I do." Reaching underneath the table and propping up her lyre on one thigh.

Several other instruments reinforced the music as other bards and minstrels joined the impromptu performance, including hand drums, flutes, and a tambourine. Each falling into step as though they had rehearsed the piece together. It was the low, humming four-by-four rhythm.

Alfira projected her voice, "We all know of Captain Deudermont! That politics and pirates should never mix. For the Sea Sprite will hunt you down and see the stakes set right. With our honourable Captain at the helm, no corruption could claim the Realms!" She bellowed a drawn out 'Oh!' and the other instruments rose in an energetic accompaniment of the well-known sea chanty.

Tav's voice joined the other bards in singing the first verse, repeated three times. "We'd be all good, if the wind was in our sails!" The rowdy Fists swung their tankards and pre-emptively sang along, "And we'll all hang on behind!"

Karlach and Wyll lent their voices along with most of the tavern during the chorus. Following a similar three verse repeat, "And we'll sail, the old, Sea Sprite together." Tav held a background note at 'old' adding to the ambience of the song, until everyone sang the last line together, "And we'll all hang on behind!"

Alfira remained shanty-woman, leading the next set of three-to-one repeat verses. " Oh! We'd be all good, with Captain Deudermont at the steer! And we'll all hang on behind!"

By the time the second chorus struck, Nyx had swallowed down the piece of her treat and lifted her voice, safely hidden in the crowd's harmony, ignoring Astarion's quizzical expression out of the corner of her eye. "And we'll sail, the old, Sea Sprite together. And we'll all hang on behind!"

Alfira's next improvised line drew cheers and laughs from the audience. "Well a night at the Elfsong, won't do us any harm!" And everyone joined in eagerly for the last two repeats and the connecting. "And we'll all hang on behind!"

The song carried on for a few more rounds until Alfira changed the rhythm, transitioning the rest of the bards into a slower piece before another foot-tapping melody lifted from her lute.

A few people rose from their seats and gathered off to the side of the Elfsong, where a small dance floor stood before the fireside and its watchful, tiny stuffed beholder above the mantle.

Nyx took a bite of her last root-tail spiral. Karlach guffawed somewhere behind her, and Nyx made a strangled noise after being seized by the scruff. Karlach said, "Come on, come on! We're not missing out!"

Karlach had Nyx fisted in one hand and Wyll in the other, dragging them flailing to the dance floor. Nyx finished off her treat before choking on it and found herself at the edge of the dance floor, Karlach and Wyll reorienting themselves for the dance. She took a moment. The new tune was also a standard four-by-four beat, and many of those seated were clapping along or stomping their feet, eagerly watching the dancers. Adjusting her stance and falling into the next series of movements, Nyx recognised the familiar folk dance while the other dancers did coordinated steps in a series of rows.

It was an uncoupled dance and, depending on the experience of the dancer, could be performed in its most simple or complicated form. Nyx and Wyll mirrored Karlach, executing the first sequence as a series of single side-to-side steps to the right and then another to the left. Karlach’s manic expression was in place, and together, in a line, the three of them did the square step - the last crossover of the feet completed the square to the right. Wyll started the next round by adding several arm flourishes and additional steps in-between the base dance, including one or two quick twirls. Only Nyx followed his example in the next round. Karlach guffawed, and all three of them were grinning like idiots. The audience was whistling and cheering while the dancers moved in unison with the bards dancing in place while playing their instruments.

Just as the next sequence began, Nyx found her gaze locked with a set of rubies. Astarion had joined and taken position in front of her, signalling a paired dance. The effect rippled through the dance floor, where more people paired up, facing each other. Wyll, being the more experienced dancer, shifted and lined up in front of Karlach, then matched his movements to hers, still keeping the additions to the base dance, but making their coordination look purposeful even though Karlach kept to the simpler steps. Astarion matched Nyx effortlessly, not that she should be surprised. Setting his shoulders back, a challenge filled his posture. She narrowed her eyes in amusement, wondering what he had planned for the following sequence.

Astarion added more complexity to the movements; Nyx's fell into beat with his. It was a variation on the base for an experienced pair of dancers, which included additional steps as well as improvised moves that increased the interaction between the couple. All while keeping in line with the rest of the dancers. The side-steps were replaced with diagonal ones, Astarion and Nyx's legs crisscrossing over the dance floor. The square step had them closing the distance on the forward step, a crisscross of legs on the side, and then increasing the distance on the back step. Each complication Astarion introduced, Nyx countered seamlessly. Cheers rose from Karlach at the spectacle, and her paired dance with Wyll doubled in enthusiasm.

Astarion introduced unique, improvised flourishes, very much in line with what Nyx would expect from his eccentric nature, and she matched them with her own versions - more roll in her shoulders and sashay in her hips. He flashed her a fanged grin and inched forward. She wagged a finger at him, then placed it on his chest and pushed him back into position, receiving a series of yowls from the crowd closest to the dance floor. In good sport, Astarion merely pouted, then winked at her. Wyll shook his head in mock disappointment at Astarion, but Wyll simply received an indifferent shrug in reply. Nyx and Astarion kept the 'prescribed dancing distance' for the rest of the dance, but the complexities and improvised flourishes continued. Soon the music slowed, signalling the closure of the next sequence, and the dance waned naturally, stopping in sync with the music.

---

Another background tune started, and most of the people left the dance floor. Nyx and the rest were welcomed back by an applauding audience at their table. Wyll gestured with both hands to Karlach, who received even more applause and whoops. Astarion took Nyx's hand, and they bowed together. Astarion placed a peck on Nyx's hand, eliciting a few wolf whistles from the others, and they took their seats.

Nyx caught Astarion's eye and gave him a warm smile; his sheepish grin was softened by a sense of ease that she hadn't seen in him before. Taking up his wine glass, he raised it, and she mimicked the gesture with her water, clinking their glasses together.

--- --- ---

Although lacking in the usual debauchery he had come to grown accustomed to, the night had turned out to be fun, in a charming sort of way that left him feeling - happy?

Unlike most nights I'd had on the town.

No ulterior motives. No need to take the hunt further. No need to do anything else than simply enjoy the night for what it was. And it made him happy, disgustingly so.

People had thinned in the tavern and the festivities had wound down for the evening. Nyx had excused herself a while ago, and the rest of his companions looked ready to take their leave soon.

A long, drawn out yawn escaped Karlach, and she rubbed her eyes. She patted her belly and said, "Fuck soldiers, I've haven't had so much fun since... Well, forever. But my dogs are barking, and I just feel old admitting it." Glancing at the table of Fists, going strong and calling for another round of drinks.

Gale nodded. "Ah, the endurance of youth. There are a few potions to help with that."

Karlach's eyes flashed and her mouth split into a manic grin, looking between him and Tav. "Oh, I'm sure you have plenty of that."

Gale's face threatened to turn the colour of his robes, and he sputtered. "No, that's not what I meant!"

Karlach guffawed and smacked him hard over the shoulders, making Astarion grimace from his side of the table. His own glass now dry; so he might as well part too. When Karlach rose, it effectively dispersed their entire table, and they collectively ambled their way to the apartment upstairs.

---

Movement rustled inside their room. Opening the door, Astarion asked, "My sweet, are you still awake?"

A muffled huff answered, and he found her half-way under the bed wrestling with the fabric of her tent. He paused, leaned against the doorway, and appreciated the absurdity of the situation.

Her voice drifted from beneath the bed, "Are you going to help or ogle some more?"

A scoff left his lips. "Ugh. I don't ogle, I admire. And the view is quite something." Not moving an inch, he tilted his head. "The point of this being? Other than entertaining me, of course."

She sat back on her haunches and brushed the hair from her face. "You and I didn't spend all that time stitching the Draconic protection onto my tent for it to go unused."

"So, you're protecting our bed instead?"

She stood and gave him a flat look, making her way to the other side of the bed. Before continuing, she gestured to the fabric. "Mind helping me?"

Sighing, he relented and helped her straighten out the fabric until it encompassed the bed, without him needing to climb under it. "You think it'll work?"

"It should. It creates a barrier around whatever is inside its boundary. Considering we're on the same floor as a murdered Duke; I'm not taking any chances with Bhaalist ghouls or assassins." As though the thing heard her; a faint glow and buzz rose from the ribbon then faded.

They straightened. A smirk quirked at the corner of his mouth at her satisfied, yet challenging expression. He flourished a hand. "I feel safer already." And they fell into the rest of their mutual bedtime routine. None of it had any right to make him feel so absurdly happy.

--- --- ---

Somewhere in the wee hours Nyx awoke to Astarion struggling against something while he tranced beside her. His body was taut, curled into itself, and he was drenched in sweat.

"Astarion?"

Strangled noises replied while he remained trapped in whatever had ensnared him. Nyx reached out to him tentatively and touched his shoulders. He didn't rouse, and she shook him gently. Wide-eyed confusion met her gaze, and Astarion lunged at her; pinning her beneath him. He reached for something beneath her pillow, and a flash of light caught her eye; her own hunting knife was now at her throat.

Shocked, Nyx merely stared into his unrecognising gaze while her heart thundered in her chest. His pupils were completely blown, but his gaze was sharp and focused. Nyx took a breath to speak, which was met with his quivering snarl and the tightening grip around her arm.

"Erenerhym, it's me Nyx. You were caught in a nightmare."

His snarl deepened, and the hunting knife pressed against her skin. One unexpected move would mean blood, and Nyx wasn't keen on where it would end. She primed her magic, deliberately makings its presence known. It drew a warning growl from him, but Nyx kept his gaze and pushed against the knife using her magic.

"Astarion, you are in our bedroom. You are safe, remember? And if you don't put down the knife I'm inclined to take it from you." Leaning in more heavily with her magic. Her heart throbbed in her ears while she held his gaze for what seemed like the longest time, not daring to drop it for a moment. She applied more pressure to the knife.

Suddenly, he snapped out of it, blinking down at her briefly. Realisation followed recognition, and his weight lifted from her. Astarion was a blur of motion, retreating from the room. In his wake, there was the sounds of footsteps on metal, and cold air swept in from the bedroom door left ajar.

Nyx let out a relieved breath, searching the dark ceiling above. A stare down like that always left her reeling, had she not been on the receiving end of one so often in the wilds... The last thing she wanted was a midnight scuffle with Astarion over a moment of confusion.

Graces knows how many times I've had one of those.

Memories of her younger self came to her, struggling with control against the overwhelming power of the black pit. She shook them from her thoughts and meditated briefly. Once her pulse was settled, she set off to find him.

--- --- ---

Astarion gazed hazily out at the rooftops of Eastway; the nightmare scenes lingering in his mind. Her footsteps neared. He was sitting at the edge of the open roof lounge, the rest of Elf Song slumbering beneath. He glanced at her once, but he couldn't meet her eyes and averted his gaze. She joined him, and they sat together in a long silence. As though the night held its breath for his judgement to be delivered.

"I'm sorry, my sweet." He blurted, his eyes meeting hers in pleading understanding.

Her expression remained neutral.

"I.", he sighed in frustration, looking away and drawing his knees into his chest. He closed his eyes, rested the bridge of his nose against his arms and spoke in a small voice, "It was a memory of Cazador... So real, like I was right there, experiencing everything again. Over and over."

He didn't elaborate; he didn't want to for fear of running away. Instead, he huffed. "When will it stop? Only once I'm thoroughly rid of him? To have his blood on my hands? For him to be dead for good?"

The unexpected calm in her voice made him steal a cautionary glance at her. She said, keeping her eyes on the city, "You need to give yourself more time to heal."

Hot and urgent, he snapped. "Hmmph, are you going to tell me that 'time heals all'?"

She had a wistful sadness in her smile, turning to face him. "No. I don't think we fully heal in the sense that it doesn't affect us anymore. We only learn to," she paused, searching for the word, "Manage it better."

Meaning what?

Before he could snap again, she became contemplative and mused, "We've been made to believe that healing is a series of steps." She gestured, making a straight line in the air with a pointed finger. "A linear process. After completing all the steps, voilà you 'should be healed'. But, I've experience it to be circular."

Astarion's annoyance eased into curiosity, surprising him once more with her grace, despite what had transpired between them moments before.

She continued, "A cycle, rather, like everything else is nature. The cycle of days, seasons... The rings of a tree."

Although he couldn't understand what her rambling had to do with his current situation, her calm presence was soothing, nonetheless. A sense of stillness filled him instead. Gratitude.

After a pause, she made a circle in the air. At its starting point, she said, "We find ourselves trapped in the darkness. Then we manage to escape through time or effort." Her outline of the circle continued in small, rapid bursts, returning to the starting point quickly. "But our first circle is small. And the cycle is short bringing us back to that place of darkness too often. Too quick. And all the bad that comes with it."

She shifted, enlarging the circle with each consecutive outline. "With time, the circle becomes bigger and the cycle takes longer to renew. The darkness becomes distant and muted. When the cycle comes to its natural meeting point; we face the darkness again, but it isn't so scary anymore. It doesn't have so much control. The natural progression of the cycle allows us to prepare for when the darkness comes again. And yet." She stole a glance at him this time. He cringed, hiding behind his arms.

"Sometimes events or things remind us of the darkness, brushes too close to it, and the circle suddenly closes." She drew half a circle in the air and made a line straight down the middle to the meeting point, cutting the full outline off prematurely. "We are thrown into the darkness. It's overwhelming, because we didn't have time to prepare... We... Lash out... Because the darkness has taken control once more." Her hands fell into her lap, along with her gaze.

Astarion considered that for a while. The parallels were striking and uncomfortable.

I want to be rid of it! Why must it linger and haunt me?

Despite his hesitation, he asked, "Is there a way to...", he didn't know how to put it, feeling foolish at the elementary language, "Make the circle wider - sooner?"

A knowing, sympathetic smile greeted him, and she nodded. "Keetjah and Sanika taught me a few techniques and I've developed more over the years. Ones to help the process along, and ones to help regain control." She beckoned to him with an open hand, "I can teach you. But it won't be quick or easy."

"Pfft! I'd be so lucky." He stuck his nose in the air.

Nyx chuckled softly. "Nothing in life worth doing is."

A long silence followed, and a creeping sensation washed over him. Astarion felt numb.

Nyx shifted and hesitated for a moment. Eventually, she rubbed her hands over her arms and said, "It's cold up here. I'm heading back to sleep. When you’re ready, my heart."

Her parting invitation warmed Astarion and dispelled more of his trepidation.

That's it?

There was no anger, outrage... Punishment of any kind for his clear transgressions.

How is that possible?

'And all the bad that comes with it.'

Shades danced in his peripheral vision. The flood of choking bile rose in him again.

Even now I can sense him around every corner. Lurking, waiting. Ready to snatch me up and drag me back.

"Damn it all to the hells!" He glared at the scene before him. Brief reflections of light catching on the dark Chionthar in the distance.

The taint wouldn't let him go; its haunting clung to him like a drowning sailor. Threatening to pull him under the rising tide of self-loathing. The fear of retribution from Cazador, ripping away any inch of happiness he might have scraped together.

Damn him.

He snarled. Furious, he stood, turned on his heel and marched toward the stairs. Intent on distracting himself with a hunt - one soaked in blood.

The bloodier; the better.

Driftglobe Forgotten Realms Wiki

For this chapter I very much focussed on the illustrative, interactive and 'flowing' descriptions of a night at the Elfsong. I feel like these descriptions are still a bit clunky but coming along nicely, especially how to do it for buildings, crowds and food. A few more practise rounds then I think I'll get the balance right...

The song and the dance were once again unique challenges. I had written a sing-along tavern song, but it was a bit too dark for this scene. Thus, after a lot of scratching my brain, I decided to modify an existing British sea chanty (Roll the old chariot) and combine that with some very sparse Forgotten Realm's Luskan legends of Captain Deudermont. I took a good deal of inspiration from David Coffin's rendition of the song. The tavern atmosphere was inspired by Sting's The Last Ship and Suzanne Vega's Tales from the Realm of the Queen of Pentacles.

If you're in the mood for some medieval fantasy music, I highly recommend Adrian von Ziegler,  BrunuhVille and Fantasy Meditations.