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Finally.
Finally, this was done.
Tav watched the great mass of the netherbrain sink into the bay. A surreal sight. He might have described it as an out-of-body experience were he not so keenly aware of his body, permanently warped as it was. Illithid as it was. He didn’t regret it – Orpheus was simply more valuable than Tav, and had suffered enough besides, but the resignation stung just the same. There had been no time to dwell earlier. Now, as his companions followed him out of the water onto the docks, all danger passed, all tension ripped away, Tav was forced to contend with the state of himself.
Shadowheart heaved herself out of the bay, straining against her waterlogged armor. Helpless and unsuspecting, doubled over as she hacked up seawater, Tav’s newfound instincts urged him to consume her. Disgusting, perhaps, but not unexpected. He could weather that. He was no stranger to self-denial.
It was the impulse that followed this one, though, that caught him by surprise.
she trusts you – good – make her Ours – SING – You Can Use Her - - -
A thousand thousand ways to manipulate her unfurled in his mind, each aching to be put to use.
friend – leverage – parents – make her ALONE - - -
Tav snapped his gaze away, only no matter where it landed, he had the same problem. Halsin. Wyll. Jaheira. Isobel. Dammon. Even strangers. On and on, everywhere he looked he saw marionettes itching for a puppeteer.
Gale flopped onto the dock, back against the smooth wood, moving his hair out of his face and catching his breath. The motion seized Tav’s attention. Gale opened his eyes, saw Tav looming over him, and beamed. He brought a hand near his collarbone, where the netherese orb marked him.
“You were right, my love,” Gale said. “There is something to be said for winning the old-fashioned way.”
wants you – loves you Still – fool -- Hubris – weave -- godhood --
CONTROL HIM - - -
For the moment, Tav still retained enough of himself to resist these impulses. But would he be strong enough to keep it that way? Unlikely. For all people insisted he was a hero, Tav knew heroes were not special. Even the great Balduran himself killed his beloved Ansur. It was only a matter of time before Tav’s illithid nature would usurp him. He wouldn’t see people anymore. He would see lanceboard pieces. He would distort everyone around him into the worst versions of themselves. He would hurt Gale. He would ruin this brilliant, stupid, perfect man looking up at Tav like he was the same person he was yesterday.
That, he could not abide.
Tav turned away, towards the sun threatening to breach the horizon. He had to do it now, before he lost his nerve. He channeled his psionic energy inward.
no - - -
Pressure built up against his body.
you are superior - - -
His mind squeezed down on itself.
embrace it - - -
Just a little more.
stop - - -
A little more.
LIVE - - -
The psionic energy rushed away before it tipped Tav over death’s edge. Irritation flared in him. Fine. If his instincts made his new abilities betray him, then the old ways would suffice once more.
“Tav? Are you alright?” Gale asked, sitting up and eyeing him with concern. Tav ignored him. Instead, he turned to Astarion, who was busy wringing out his cloak with a grimace.
spawn – going to burn – a waste – Consume - - -
Tav took a dagger from Astarion’s belt. Before Astarion could question him, Tav flipped the hood of the spawn’s cloak up over his head.
“The sun is about to rise, Astarion.” Tav gestured towards the horizon. For one beautiful beat, Astarion stared at him confused. He had truly forgotten his circumstance. Then reality sank in, as it always does. Astarion swerved, panicked eyes taking in the oncoming sunrise. He stuttered a goodbye to the group and ran out of sight as the first of dawn’s rays hit the shore.
Tav spun the dagger across his hand, reestablishing his grip such that the blade pointed at his stomach.
It was a fitting way for a bhaalchild to go.
“Tav—?!”
He plunged the dagger inward.
“Non muovere!”
The blade only managed to bury half itself inside his flesh before Tav was frozen in place, robbed of his ability to finish the job. Behind him, Gale scrambled to his feet, hand outstretched to maintain his spell.
“Someone heal him!”
Shadowheart was at Tav’s side in an instant. Magic sparked at her fingertips but died before it could take purchase. “I-I can’t, I have none left—”
Tav felt a presence on his opposite side but couldn’t turn his head to see who it was. “I have him.” Halsin’s voice. Shadowheart pulled the dagger out and Halsin’s hand took its place, healing magic mending the wound.
Gods damn it. These bleeding hearts were going to get themselves killed. Tav needed to do this. He exerted his will against Gale’s spell, forcing it to end, and snapped his arm out to wrest the dagger back.
“NON MUOVERE.” Gale restrained him again. Shadowheart threw the dagger into the sea. Halsin tightened his grip around Tav’s middle.
Gale appeared in Tav’s field of vision, eyes full of a cold fury Tav had never seen in him before, lips tensed into a thin line.
escape – consume them all – they Insult You - - -
A scroll appeared in Gale’s hand. Tav recognized the magic inscribed on it, and his eyes widened. No—
“Impero tibi.”
Tav went limp, his compulsions – self-sacrificial and murderous alike-- caged in dreams. Halsin caught him before his sleeping body hit the dock. Shadowheart let out a sigh of relief, hands falling to her knees to support herself after the loss of tension. Gale’s glare in Tav’s direction was unrelenting. The netherbrain sank further into the sea, water cresting over its apex.
***
Tav did not expect to wake up where he did. The dank air, the faint light the plants gave off, the unworked rock that served as the floor of the room -- it didn’t take a mindflayer’s intelligence to realize this was the Underdark. He must have been asleep for a considerable amount of time, to have come here from Baldur’s Gate.
Gale sat in a rickety chair next to the bed on which Tav lay. The wizard had succumbed to sleep himself, his upper half slumped over onto the bed. His hand was extended, holding onto Tav’s, his grip firmer than one might expect of someone who was not awake. There were dark circles under his eyes.
From the opposite side of the bed, a mindflayer looked down at Tav. His original self might have panicked at that, even if only for a second, but the current Tav’s mind worked quickly enough to recognize this other mindflayer immediately. It was Omeluum, the only one of their kind Tav might lend any trust to anymore.
“Greetings,” Omeluum said, mild as ever. When Tav did not reply, it continued. “It has been almost a tenday since you felled the elder brain. Your companions brought you here in impressive time, but that had its cost. Traveling while keeping you in stasis was difficult, and now they need rest. Though this one refused to leave you.” Omeluum inclined its head towards Gale.
“Why did they bring me here? Were they hoping you have some secret cure? Or that maybe you could talk me out of doing what needs to be done?”
“It was not such a bad idea. I have a better understanding of what you’re experiencing than they do.”
“Then you know I’m right. I need to die. I don’t have your rare mutation. I’m not an exception to the rule. These compulsions, they’re overwhelming.” Just like the Urge was, Tav thinks but doesn’t say. “I’m going to hurt someone.”
Omeluum regarded him for a moment.
“Are you?” It said with the tone of a teacher trying to guide a student towards a correct answer. “Your companion is lying vulnerable next to you, but I suspect you haven’t had an impulse like the one you described since you’ve woken up.”
That was… true? There was a hunger low in his mind, a sick desire to eat – he hadn’t eaten in a tenday, apparently, so that was expected – but that’s all there was. There was no ache to control, to manipulate, to indoctrinate.
“Are you doing this?”
If Omeluum was the laughing kind, it would have laughed at that. “Not at all. That credit should go to your friends. They may not have realized it at the time, but magicking you to sleep was perhaps the best thing they could have done for you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your friends told me how you acquired your current form. Your exposure to the brain was exceptionally brief, but you were nonetheless exposed. Elder brains are powerful, enough so that their desires linger in their thralls’ minds for a time even upon separation. What you felt was essentially the leftover influence of your connection to the brain. Those dregs of power will have run dry, by now.”
If Tav still had a jaw, it would have dropped.
“All I needed was a nap? You, you must be joking. I’m not that lucky.”
“You are alive.” Omeluum’s gaze flicked over to Gale. “You are alive and free and loved, despite everything that suggests you shouldn’t be. For such a fortunate improbability, ‘lucky’ is an apt descriptor.” Omeluum straightened its posture. “I won’t pretend that living as a rogue mindflayer is easy, and I won’t stop you if you would still rather end your life than face such an existence. But I hope this new information helps. I have found… joy, even as I am. You would find it too, if you’re willing to look for it.”
Tav’s thoughts ran in so many directions at once. Omeluum had no reason to lie. Tav wasn’t so dangerous, then. He didn’t need to die. But, he’d tried to nonetheless, earlier. He had to be the stupidest mindflayer in all the realms. And gods, what about Gale? The wizard’s glare when he stopped Tav on the docks already stung more than the dagger had. Tav could only imagine what choice words Gale had waiting for him now, and he would deserve every one of them. He looked down at Gale—
--and Gale gazed back up at him.
Still as stone, breath baited, eyes sharp and stressed and boring into Tav with singular intensity. It held Tav in place as surely as a pin secured an insect’s wings to corkboard.
“There is more I wish to discuss with you,” Omeluum said. “I am sure you would manage well enough on your own, but I find myself in a unique position to offer some practical advice regarding your new form. Come find me when you have a moment – Blurg and I are conducting some research nearby. For now, though, some privacy is in order.” Omeluum took a step back. “The circumstances are regrettable, but it is good to see you again, Tav.” With a flash of energy, it teleported out of the room, leaving Tav woefully alone with Gale.
Silence never felt so loud.
Gale wasn’t one to hold his tongue, so the fact that he didn’t launch into a verbal lashing of mythical proportion was all the more unsettling. Instead, he reaffirmed his already-tight grip on Tav’s hand, the stiff joints in his fingers complaining with the effort. Tav didn’t dare move. Never breaking eye contact, Gale slowly rose from the chair and lifted himself onto the bed, moving forward until his knees caged Tav’s hips on either side. He brought Tav’s hand up to his chest, pressing the gray palm against his purple robes.
“What do you feel, when I hold your hand here?” Gale asked.
Well, that’s not what Tav expected to come out of Gale’s mouth at all.
Tav’s first instinct when he looked at his hand was, if he was being honest, one of mild disgust. He chose this form because it was the lesser evil, not because he wanted it. Seeing it pressed against Gale’s chest felt like a parody of quiet moments they shared before his transformation. But Tav knew that’s not what Gale meant, could tell -- regardless of what Tav’s thoughts on the matter were – that Gale’s affections for him were undaunted by the change. What did he mean, then?
“My heartbeat,” Gale supplied, when Tav did not. “You can feel my heartbeat.”
Ah.
“It’s still beating because of you. You persuaded me not to use the Orb. You told me that we could win without my death. Then, when against nigh insurmountable odds we manage just that, you deign to take your own life.” Gale’s voice was thin, strained, like the words burned his tongue. “I’ve never known you to be such a bloody hypocrite.”
“… I am sorry. I only meant to—”
“—eliminate a threat,” Gale interrupted. “I’m well aware. As if that makes any difference. We’ve felled devils and gods and Karsite apocalypses, but you think we’re defenseless against you? How little credit you give us.” Gale took in a breath, opened his mouth like he hadn’t even begun to say his piece, but then he looked at Tav and whatever he managed to read in his monstrous features made all the indignation he’d fought to hold onto seep out of him. His grip on Tav’s hand turned fragile. “I don’t…” He swallowed on nothing and dipped forward until he was laying half on top of Tav, his forehead resting in the nape of Tav’s neck. “I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how else to convince you. If Omeluum could not sway you, then—” Gale cut himself off with a strange, stifled sound. “I’ve never had a death wish, but if I’d realized choosing not to use the Orb would lead you down a path to martyrdom, I would have chosen differently.”
Mindflayers had no souls, supposedly. Tav didn’t know if that was true, but either way they must have hearts because his was aching.
“Forgive me, Gale. It seems I’m as foolish in this form as I was in the last.” Tav wrapped his free arm around Gale, tangling long fingers through his hair. “I will not try to end my life again. Be at ease.”
As if Tav was the wizard, Gale’s entire body relaxed. He nestled into Tav like his illithid form wasn’t a barrier, like he belonged there. Perhaps he did. Tav hoped he did.
“Good,” Gale said so softly it bordered on a whisper, “I’ll hold you to that.”
Much later, after Gale woke from where he fell asleep on top of Tav, after catching up with Omeluum and Blurg, after Tav apologized to the rest of their companions, after the first of many cerebral meals, Gale said Tav’s name. Tav turned to face him and found the wizard down on one knee, ring in hand, looking up at Tav like he was the most beautiful thing Gale had ever seen.
There was, indeed, something to be said for doing things the old-fashioned way.