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Summary
“You can choke on your apology,” Astarion snapped as he shoved past her. “If the tadpole turns you tonight, it wouldn’t be too soon.”
The sheer venom of his words stung as painfully as if he’d stabbed her right there on the spot. She opened her mouth to reply, but could think of nothing worthwhile to say. So she snapped it closed and watched him walk off down the path that led back to camp.
Well, some fantastic leader she was turning out to be. She already didn’t understand why anyone thought she, with her magnitude of memory loss and murder happy tendencies, was the ideal candidate for a position of authority. She was awful at this shit!
Eli had spent a lot of time combing through her fractured psyche, trying to piece together any semblance of facts about who she was. In all that self-reflection, she’d concluded there were two things she was really good at. Killing people and drinking.
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Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 and explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge, as well as the friendships and relationships she has with her companions.
~This work is on hiatus.~