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The tight feeling in his chest was something Gortash hadn’t felt in a long time. But here, standing outside his old home, staring at the worn and aged ‘Flymm’s Cobbelry’ sign had brought the feeling back in full force. He holds his hand out to knock on the door but hesitates, he has to remind himself that Lord Enver Gortash does not hesitate before he is finally able to knock on the door. The odd feeling in his chest only grows as he waits at the door, and he finds himself subconsciously tapping his fingers together, trying to focus on the sharp metal clinking of his gauntlet and the weight of the Mind Flayer tadpoles in his pocket instead of all these pesky feelings welling up inside. He freezes when the door finally opens and sees his mother standing there, a look of recognition on her face that’s quickly followed by disgust. Gortash can immediately tell the years have not been good to her and it gives him a much-needed boost of confidence.
“Mother! I am so happy to see you again!” He says, spreading his arms wide and finally managing to slip into the mask of cool confidence that was Enver Gortash. “I’m finally back in town and wanted to see you and Father, I trust he’s home as well?” He clasps his hands together and hides his sneer behind a cocky smile. His mother studies him cautiously for a long moment before stepping back to allow him in. He quickly walks inside and is overwhelmed by the feeling of being here again. He never considered this place home per se, but this is where he grew up, where he spent his impossibly short childhood. Everything seemed the same, the scent of leather and smoke that had clung to him far after he left this place, the slight draft from the shoddy construction of the building, the disapproving glares of his parents on his back. It felt like he was stepping back in time.
“What are you doing here Enver?” The stern voice of his father breaks his concentration and his muscles tense at the familiar tone, the distaste he spat his name out with.
“Is it so wrong for a son to want to visit his parents?” he asks, grinning again before spinning around on his heel to face his father at his familiar place behind the counter. “And I even brought a gift” he adds, smiling wider at the skeptical look that quickly crosses his parents’ faces.
“A gift?” His mother asked.
“Of course! It’s my first time seeing the two of you in how many years now?” He looks between his parents and can instantly tell neither of them has any idea and he waves his hand in the air as if brushing the question away. “No matter. But what kind of son would I be if I didn’t bring something for the both of you as thanks for what you’ve done?”
“Thanks?” his father asked, and Gortash tightly curled one of his fists for a moment in frustration, couldn’t either of them muster a thought other than echoing back what he just said?
“Of course! I have no doubt I wouldn’t be the man I am today without either of you.”
With that he quickly strides over to his father, pulling out one of the tadpole jars and holding it up, swishing it around to awaken the tadpole inside. “What is that?” his father asks weakly and he can feel his mother’s presence behind him, trying to peek over his shoulder.
“Honestly, I don’t think it’s even worth trying to explain what this is to either of you.” As he spoke, he opened the jar, grabbing the tadpole that was now wriggling around rapidly in his hand while he used the other to quickly grab his father’s chin.
“Enver! What- what are you doing!” His father attempts to wrench his way out of Gortash’s tight grip, only managing to get the other man to clamp his gauntleted hand down tighter.
“I’m going to make the both of you utterly powerless” With that he lowers the tadpole closer to his father’s eye as his mother starts screaming and attempting to run. When she opens the door however she's confronted with several Flaming Fists Gortash had ordered to block any exits.
“You didn’t think you’d just be able to walk out, right? I mean really” He calls out over his shoulder, sighing as the tadpole finally wriggles its way behind his father’s eye, he drops the man and watches as he helplessly crumples to the ground. “Although I suppose neither of you were ever the brightest, hm?”
He stalks his way over towards his mother now, who has been reduced to a crying mess on the floor, desperately trying to crawl away from his approaching footsteps. “Enver, please! We’re- we’re your parents!” At that Gortash lets out a shark bark of a laugh.
“You could have fooled me” He responds, standing before his mother and watching her writhing with a cool detachment. “You always seemed so much stronger” he muttered to himself as he watched her. Memories of being a small child filled with utter terror at her fits of rage when she would scream and yell and hit. And now here she was, reduced to nothing more than a puddle of tears with the slightest force. “This would have been much more satisfying if you had put up even a bit of a fight” He crouches down, grabbing her chin now and angling her face up as he grabs the second tadpole.
“I’m glad we sold you! Our lives were so much better after you left!” She manages to yell out through her tears.
“There she is, that’s my mother dearest I remember” He slowly moves the tadpole closer towards her eyes, wanting to make the most of this moment that he had been waiting half of his life for. “Since I wouldn’t be here without you, I will give you a bit of advice. It hurts much more if you struggle” With that he presses the tadpole to her eyes, watching as it squirms around before finally managing to find its way behind it lodging itself into her head.
With that he lets go, leaving her there still on the floor as he once again takes in the surroundings of his childhood home. He looks at the stairs and briefly wonders what they did with his bed, if they could even call it that, it was more so a small pile of whatever blankets he had managed to scrounge up and could sleep at least semi-comfortably in. Before he had the chance to figure out if he wanted to go up and look he hears shuffling behind him as his parents start to rise. He turns around and behind to speak. “Ah, you-”
“Oh Enver” he gets cut off as his mother approaches him, an unfamiliar findess in her eyes as she looks up at her son. “We’re so happy you could pay us a visit.” He pauses, realizing his mouth was hung open, and quickly shuts it. He has to remind himself that this is solely the tadpoles doing, but hearing his mother’s voice, even if it was stilted and clearly wrong, saying something so nice has him stock still in disbelief.
“You’ve grown into quite the handsome man, haven’t you? Reminds me of myself in my younger years” Gortash’s head swings around to look at his father, now also standing with a smile that looked all too wrong on his face.
Gortash can feel the lump starting to rise in his throat, the feelings of his palms growing sweating, and the tears threatening to well up in his eyes. He has to remind himself that Lord Enver Gortash does not cry. But right now he doesn’t feel like Lord Enver Gortash, he doesn’t feel like the soon-to-be-Archduke, he doesn’t feel like Bane’s Chosen. He just feels like Enver Flymm, the small boy without even a copper piece to his name.
Before he can say anything in response one of his loyal Banites enters the room, the portrait of him he had specifically made for this moment in their hand. He had imagined this moment for years now, of showing his parents what he could do, that he wasn’t just some waste of space. He had orchestrated it perfectly in his head, strutting into this very room, watching them grovel at his feet and beg for his forgiveness before he’d infect them with the Illithid. Watching them become shells of their former selves and erasing any unsavory memories of his childhood before proudly displaying the portrait of himself in their home, a constant smug reminder of everything he had accomplished despite them. But the moment was all wrong, he didn’t feel powerful instead he just felt… he didn’t even know, lost maybe? Confused? It was all terribly frustrating to Enver, the man who had made it a point of pride to not let his emotions get in the way. And those feelings didn't lift when his ‘mother’ let out a gasp at seeing the portrait. “Oh, Enver! Look at you!” She proudly watches as the guard hangs up the portrait behind the counter. “I always knew you'd grow up to do big things” And for a moment Enver doesn’t try to remind himself that it was the tadpole speaking.