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Tav could not find the memories in their mind, but their hands and feet recalled the path to Enver’s window, to the weak spot under the sill. They remembered the small chip on the edge as they sneaked in, to hold the window to keep it from squeaking as it always did when it rained and the wood frame warped. They dropped into the space and stopped to take in the room, the gaudy red and gold, the silks and brocade. Quiet emotions allayed their anxiety. A sense of calm, a sense of safety, a sense of ease nestled between the bed sheets and the smell of books.
Tav followed their feet as they were led to Enver’s office door. A sense of familiarity came to them, knowing they could knock once, say his name and enter. Tav knocked on the door three times and stepped back.
“Come!” said the voice beyond the door.
Tav opened the office door and stood in the doorway. The seat in the corner of the room beckoned, a blanket draped over the arm. They knew the weight of the fabric, knew the scent of him on it.
Enver looked up from his desk and raised an eyebrow. “You’re here.”
Tav remained in the doorway, fingers tentatively set on the wooden frame. “I am.”
“Orin still hunts.” He cocked his head and smiled. “And I doubt very much she handed you her netherstone.”
“She did not.”
“Then you test my patience. No matter-”
“I wish to know more about my past.”
He returned to the papers on his desk. “Then Orin will be perfect-”
“Please?” Tav followed the command of their body’s memories and stepped forward into the office, closing the door behind them.
Enver scowled and the expression pained Tav as if it meant something to them, as if it hurt them to see him upset. He lowered his quill. “Does it matter? You’re not the same as you were. You’ve returned… different.” His voice was icy, feigning distance. He ran a hand through his hair and muttered, “In the arms of another lover.”
“Is that what we were?”
He glanced at them, a saddened heat burned in his gaze then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Are. “I see.” Tav pursed their lips. “I’ll leave. And not return until I’ve dealt with Orin. Thank you for your time.” They headed for the door, though the room called out to them, warm and inviting.
“Wait.”
Tav released the door handle and turned.
Enver stood and rested on the outside of his desk, leaning against the wood. “Do you remember? Anything at all?” The rain pattered softly against the window.
Tav shrugged. “Bits and pieces.”
“Like what?” He gestured to them with his left hand.
Tav scowled as emotions and physical memories emerged, so conflicted with the should-be stranger in front of them.
“Please. Tell me.”
“Umm, well,” they shifted from foot to foot, “before I saw you or your image on the posters, I experienced some sense of familiarity at the sound of your name.”
“Oh?” He crossed his arms, but smiled in a way Tav’s heart recognized. It was a lilting smile, playful, and proud.
“I figured it was just something I’d picked up along the way, maybe a news article, or word of mouth. But…then the more we learned, the more Karlach talked about you, the more the name pulled at me. As if you weren’t, aren’t, a distant politician in my mind. I knew that I should feel disdain, knew that I should hate you, but…”
If he had any feelings about the matter of Tav’s memory, he hid it very well. His shoulders remained at ease, his hands loose, his expression calm. Yet, Tav recognized a tenseness in his jaws, a tapping of his foot against the carpeted floor.
“I had other feelings. So, of course I found it odd that you would seem to be working against me, against us all.”
“What kind of feelings?”
“Feelings of familiarity,” of a lover never known.
His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. He adjusted his stance on the desk. “Then?”
“Are you going to tell me anything?”
“Then?” he pressed.
They stared at each other for a long while until Tav finally acquiesced and spoke, “When I saw you with Ketheric, it, something sparked, but I was confused. I could piece together small, very small moments. Then when I met you at the coronation, when I walked in, it’s-” they sighed, “It’s hard to explain. It’s as if specifics are lost to me, but I can recall things that are…deeper. If that makes sense.”
“Like?”
Tav considered his countenance carefully and again, followed their body’s memories, allowing their mouth to speak outside of their mind. “I know what your hands feel like, the scent of your hair-wash. I know that I hate the bedsheets in the other room, but I’ve no idea why. I know your laugh, though I’ve never heard it. And worse, I miss it. The laughter, the sense of safety, warmth. I care for you as if I know you. But you are as much a stranger to me as anyone else in this town.”
Enver smiled. Tav caught sight of his fingers twitching under crossed arms. “You thought the bedsheets were too cold. And you hated the color.” He dropped his hands to his sides and walked toward the window and fireplace. “Does he make you happy?”
“Who? Astarion?”
He nodded, gaze intent on the world outside, as if something had caught his interest.
“Yes. It’s Astarion and Halsin, actually.”
Enver turned to face them and laughed, his smile reaching his eyes.
“What?” The word came out as if Tav had said it before in this way, asking him why he mocked them so sweetly.
“It does not escape my notice that it took two lovers to replace me.”
“Will you tell me something?”
He walked over to them once more and sat on his desk. “Hm?”
“Astarion said- He believes I was…well loved. Is that true?”
Enver smiled warmly. “Aye. Very. You got everything you wanted, everything you wished for. Had me wrapped around your finger. And, vice versa, of course.” He shrugged. “I suppose this is a fitting punishment for my sins. My lover taken from me and returned with little of what we were.”
“You believe Bane would consider your actions sins?”
Enver leaned forward to touch their chin with his thumb and finger. His gaze narrowed as if he would find the tadpole swimming around in their pupils. “Not my tyranny he would punish me for.” He ran a finger over their lips. “I was lost in you.” He released them and lowered his hand.
Tav’s skin buzzed where he touched. A stranger and a lover, their mind and body warred over memories lost and memories formed.
“What was I like?”
“Bold, pragmatic, sweet” he smirked, “terrible in bed.”
“Oh?”
He chuckled. “Not really. Definitely not a giver though, which was fine by me. I liked to take. You liked to be taken. When you wanted it.” He hummed then frowned.
“I was sweet?”
His eyebrows scrunched and he nodded, “Oh yes, very.”
“All I can recall is viscera and entrails.”
Enver cocked his head from side to side. “Yes, that too. But you were sweet.” He stood and rounded his desk to unlock a drawer and small black box. He handed Tav the box. “You made this.”
Tav opened the box and found a small dead flower, a tiny wooden heart, and, in their handwriting, a note.
Always remember.
“You were lovely. Are lovely.” Enver reached for the items and softly removed them from Tav’s grip. “Do…they make you happy, Astarion and Halsin, you said were their names?”
“Yes and yes, they do. Well, I mean, I’ll be much happier when there isn’t a tadpole in my head, but yes.”
“That’s good.”
“What happened before I…before I was lost?”
He ran his fingers over the wooden heart, stared at the script, then placed the box back in the drawer and locked it. “The last time I saw you, before everything happened” he sighed, “you were heading out." Though his gaze seemed to be set on the floor, his expression was dull and empty as though he were looking through the ground. “ You asked for a kiss. I pushed you away, busy with our plans. Told you I was late, left you in the office.”
Tav pursed their lips. “I’m sorry.”
He turned his head and looked at them. “May I?” Enver stood and stepped toward them once, twice.
Though their mind screamed at them to go, to leave and never return, to gut him where he stood, Tav remained rooted to the ground.
“Please? I’ve long dreamt of fixing that mistake.”
“It won’t be fixed.” Their voice came out cracked and warbling. Tav wiped away tears with no understanding for why they fell.
He touched one hand to their waist, the other to their cheek, and whispered, “I’d still like to. My last goodbye, if you’ll permit me.”
Tav touched the fabric of his shirt, scrunched it under their fingers. Tears fell in earnest. “I don’t understand.” The scent of him, the strength and warmth, the heat of his body next to theirs. And the comfort, like coming home, if they could only just lay on his chest, bury their nose against him until they could wake up from this empty daze and find why they felt this way.
“Tav?” he whispered.
Tav fought to control the tears, their lips wobbled as they spoke, “You may. But, you must remember that it’s not there anymore. Any of it.”
Enver nodded and touched his forehead to theirs. “Tav, my sweetest, wherever you are, wherever you went, I loved you. I… I love you still.” Enver paused, brushed his nose against theirs, as if it was something they had done many times then kissed them softly.
Tav melted. The pain and fear, the sickening memories, the vile thoughts were plunged into darkness as relief washed over them. Tav hummed against his lips and as he pulled away, Tav leaned forward. Enver swept his tongue over their lips, pulled away and kissed them again. There was nothing but warmth and safety in these arms, this, Tav’s body knew. And the mind, so eager for rest, allowed it. Enver pressed harder into the kiss. Tav moaned into his mouth.
Enver pulled away and rested his head against theirs. “That was a bad idea.” He squeezed the fabric at their waist. “I thought it would help. Fuck.” He ran his hands over Tav’s cheeks, brushed away tears. “Gods. I lost you and you’re here.” He pulled away, his expression hardened. “The druid and the vampire, they’d best worship the very earth at your feet.” He touched his forehead to theirs again and kissed the tears from their cheeks. “You were loved, Tav. So wonderfully, sweetly, miserably loved. If they don’t give you the world, they will have me to reckon with. Gods,” he kissed them again, harshly bit at their lips then pulled away. “Such hell I have been thrown into. My lost love. I yearn for your death at Orin’s hand, then my own, so that we might be free of this love-letter plan. Though, I could not bear to lose you again.” He kissed their forehead and stood tall. “Come back with Orin’s netherstone and I will rip out the throats of all who stand in your way. Come back without,” his expression faltered, “and I’ll call an end to us both.”
“There was once a time I think I dreamt of such a thing.”
“I am glad the visions haunt you no longer.”
“I’ll take my leave then.”
“Tav?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you remember what happened? Orin?”
“No.”
He stared at them for a long moment. “You’re lying.”
“I don’t wish to discuss it.”
He continued to stare then, finally, his expression softened. “Have a good evening, Tav. And use the front door, please.”
Tav smiled. “Goodbye, Enver.” Tav closed the door behind them and walked toward the main door. The room pulled at the strings knotted in their mind, keeping them from memories.
“Enver?” Tav walked into his room, their boots clacking on the marble floor. The room smelled like him, Tav smiled and turned to find him elsewhere.
Again,
“Enver!” Tav giggled and leaned into him. He kissed their neck.
“What do you think? Shall we be gods?”
Again,
“Enver?”
The blade sank into their skull and Orin’s translucent eyes stared back.