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[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' -  Part 2 - 'Beginning of the First Path' (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion Route)

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Notes

This chapter deals with introducing and bringing everyone together hence the title 'Beginning the First Path'

Astarion due to their Tadpole and other reasons has lost all memories of him and Halsin sharing time together so that will be explained in further chapters

Asdalen as also lost his memories in the process.

The new character mentioned by description will be explained in further chapters

Short chapter

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Location – River Chionthar, the Ravaged Beach - Destroyed Nautiloid - Mid-Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

Reassured by the Archdruid called Halsin, after he gives me a healing potion to speed up my Healing Factor – noting internally the potion has a faint aftertaste of honey and oak – I watch from the grassy verge where he’d told me to remain in such studious way, I gone to interject but a firm, stern glare and one hand being held up in front of my face effectively shut me up.

Damm, Archdruid, who does he think he is?

Though a benefit is the healing potion has acted more quickly than my healing factor.

Settling myself down on the grassy ledge above where the destroyed Nautiloid lays down below, I reach one hand into the travelling pack for the flask of wine and a cup to pour myself a glass – even though it may taste like ash to my tastebuds.

Another crackle of magic in the air nearly sets my hair standing on end, a large roaring sound of what sounds like a bear and finally, the sight of my ‘siblings’ escaping the ravaged beach area with their metaphorical tails tucked between their legs.

Bringing the cup of wine to my lips, I take a sip finding it’s not wine, but in fact it is blood mixed with a pinch of Nutmeg.

 How strange? Whoever left this traveling pack behind certainly knows about Vampires. Blood mixed with pinch of Nutmeg, could get addicted to this.

Relaxing on the grassy ledge, I see below from my vantage point the Archdruid Halsin is beginning to talk with the Barbarian female Tiefling, a Cleric – summarising from the way the half-elf acts around others – and the Wizard wearing robes of lilac seems to radiate strange, dangerous mystical energy around him.

Up on a long ridge on the other side, a sight of two figures coming down the hillside of it to the destroyed Nautiloid draws my attention away from the group below me.

The reason being one of them is dragging one of my ‘siblings’ Leon by his hair, with Dalyria trying to placate with a tall black man to let her ‘Brother’ free before he burns to crisp seeing already flakes of Leon’s skin are peeling off.

Typical, it had to be these two to be the ones left behind. Well, Astarion, you better head down and introduce yourself then.

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Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun – After Mid-Morning

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Brother, are you alright? I was so worried when….”

“Listen, Archdruid Halsin, I apologize but…...I…Why are you calling me ‘Brother’?”

 The Archdruid Halsin begins to ask me, only to step back when I ask that question looking at me with his face going white as a sheet, a trembling hand coming up glowing with golden energy before exploding in a bunch of dead leaves and eyes starting to glisten with tears.

“I…Oakfather, why has this happened?......” He begins to say, only to mutter the rest of his sentence under his breath and beginning to pace back and forth until stops to look at me in such a way it makes my chest ache at the sight of it.

Is the reason he called me ‘Brother’ is because I remind him of someone else? Why does it feel right though when it calls me that. Are we related in some way?

Finding I don’t know what to say to him, I head over to where a Blacksmith is talking to Karlach – a female Barbarian Tiefling – about her Infernal Engine seeing the male sand-coloured Tiefling is thinking about something, his clawed hand stroking his chin in deep thought.

“I have an idea. It might work with some Infernal Iron.” The blacksmith tells her, reminding me of a piece of metal I’d picked up when exploring around the destroyed Nautiloid that reach into the traveling pack to get it out.

“Here. Will this do, Blacksmith?” I ask, holding it out to the sand coloured Tiefling who immediately takes it off my hands inspecting the piece of metal feeling Karlach, giving me a quick hug so she doesn’t burn me.

“Yes!!!? Thank you, I can work with this….Hang on…” the Blacksmith replies, turning to his anvil where placing on the metal on top reaches for the hammer heating up in the coal-fire to begin hammering it.

Sparks occasionally fly, a metallic ring echoing every-time he brings the hammer down to shape it – his muscles bulging with the effort, sweat forming and fierce concentration showing on his face – until stepping back to admire his handiwork.

Lesia, who’s been playing in the centre of the grove comes walking over to stand beside me along with someone else joining us: a Tiefling with light green-blue eyes, short-cut blue and black dyed hair and a silver looped-shaped earring and curved horns.

“Dammon, brother.” She says, making him turn his face followed by embracing the female Tiefling in his arms with “LITTLE SISTER!!?” reassuring Karlach, who’s expression had been briefly one of jealousy at the sight of the new Tiefling gives out a gentle sigh of relief at the fact the young Tiefling is Dammon’s sister.

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Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun – Still Mid-Morning

Astarion’s P.O.V:

“I…...Archdruid, sorry to ask you of this….is there somewhere I can lay down?”

“Is your head hurting?”

Lifting my head up, I look at the Archdruid Halsin who turns slightly to face me at the top of the flight of stone-carved steps leading into the hidden areas of the Emerald Grove – the sleeping areas where most of the Druids would stay in during the heavy winter months that would hit West Faerun  - to look at me.

“Not really. It’s…just so can mull over what has transpired, darling.” I reply, a flirtatious tone forming in my voice and stepping myself closer to Halsin, who gives me a look he’s not amused by it.

Those beautiful, bold brown eyes ringed with gold showing a hint of displeasure, that it feels oddly fun to rile the Archdruid up this way.

“I think a rest would better suit you instead of flirting this way, Astarion Ancunin.” Halsin states to me, descending the stone-carved stone steps with no backward glance. His mistake, so descend the stone-carved steps to confront him.

How does this Archdruid know my full name!!!? I never told him!!! So how…!!!??

Slipping the dagger into my hand from my sleeve, nearly reaching him it’s the sudden sense of something that draws my attention away from him.

Curious, I stop in my pursuit of Archdruid Halsin to walk over to the area finding more stone-carved steps leading down to what must be another secret area.

Something about it though feels familiar – like I’ve been to the area at some point in my life, but I know I haven’t – placing a hand on the curved wall wondering should I descend into the bowels of Emerald Grove to figure out what is calling out to me.

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[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Part 2 - 'Beginning of the First Path' (Act 1) (Ascended Astarion Route)

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2 DAYS LATER

Location – Shattered Sanctum, Ruined Temple – Western Heartlands – Early Afternoon

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Place him with the bear. Maybe he will make a good meal for it.”

“You heard Lady Minthara…Take him to the cage..”

Harsh, grating multitude of voices reach through unconscious haze, forcing me into a sharp awareness I’ve been captured and brought to somewhere with a screeching noise of cell door being opened indicating I’m about to be imprisoned.

Fluttering my eyes open, blurry vision of something brown, large and furry in the far corner of the cell comes into my line of sight with suddenly the large goblin who been dragging me flings me in with one single throw not even caring when I land on the harsh, uneven surface of the stone floor with a sickening thud – the injuries I had ascertained from somewhere soon making themselves known.

A clattering of my mask landing beside makes me scramble to grab hold of it, praying that Lesia is around somewhere and she is safe from harm – she would start to become extremely agitated if separated from me and could easily harm people around her – quickly slipping it back on.

“Oh, so you’re a Drow with a bit of history are we….” The Hobgoblin sneers out, forcing my eyes to widen heavily lifting my head straight up to see in cracked ornate mirror at the back of the cell my face is being shown in various angles – but enough to make out the details on it. “…Asdalen Wryric, the Snake of Faerun.”

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Location – Shattered Sanctum, Ruined Temple – Western Heartlands – Early Afternoon

Astarion’s P.O.V:

“Out the way.”

“But….Lady Minthara, we’s were only playing with him…”

“Enough….Out of my sight and go find Ragzlin, you brats.”

A voice, female speaks pushing the goblin brats who’ve surrounded me out the way, a ashen-grey hand reaching to haul me up by hair off up from the hard, stone cold floor of the ruined Temple  – my mind trying not think of memories of being trapped in the ‘kennel’ where Godey, would watch and wait for ample time to strike –  that try not show a wince on my features.

Vision clearing, it reveals the person holding my head by my hair is a female drow with braided white hair, distinct ashen-grey mixed with gold highlights and a harsh, cold face with her other hand grabbing hold of my chin tightly.

She turns it to side to side to analyse the details of it, until forcing it back to look at her.

“Hmm….How did you get here, elf?” She asks me, making me go to give back a sarcastic retort to her question when a sharp, blinding pain shoots through my head and memories not my own filter through my mind – I realise, suddenly, they are her memories.

She releases my hair, wrenching away like I’ve burned her – maybe in a way I have with whatever that telepathic connection wave had been made. She glares down at me, while another figure appears, a large red Hobgoblin, to stand beside her.

“You called for me, Minthara. What bothers you?” the Hobgoblin states, large red arms crossing over their large, muscular chest – a beady eye flicking over my rugged appearance - with me, wondering if should try to create a diversion to escape.

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[unknownmusing]

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Notes:

Fic snippet inspired by drawing

Connected to the Crossover Baldur Gate and The Witcher Fic 'When Portal Mishaps Happen' Series'

Slightly jumping ahead where Iorveth and Vernon are set to be married hence why Prologue title says Fiance in it

Plot Summary - Vernon finds out Iorveth has been hiding the fact he's been ripping his tunics and breeches so confronts him about it then while he's away on important task with Emperor Emhyr , Iorveth goes shopping and also mends his tunics and breeches even though he has to have Ciaran have to teach him how to sew first. Vernon then returns to discover some gift bags waiting for him in their shared bedchamber

For @chamotea, @apastandfuturenerd and the rest of Ioroche/Witcher fans out there

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Crossover Baldur Gate and The Witcher Fic:

'Sewing, Corsets and Lingerie' (1 of ?)

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Prologue - 'Asking One's Elf Fiance to Learn how to Sew'

Location - The Royal Palace of Vizima, Royal Quarter of Vizima - Inner Courtyard - Early Morning 

"For goodness sake, Iorveth. How many times have I told you about ripping your shirts." Vernon berates Iorveth as they stand in an archway of the Royal Palace Vizima, Inner Courtyard poking his finger into Iorveth's chest for emphasis with one hand resting on his hip feeling Iorveth trying to district him by placing a hand on his behind.

"From now on learn to sew as I'm going be away on this important task with Fa….Emperor Emhyr…so will not be there to mend the tunics and breeches for you." he continues, before signing heavily moving his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as feels a headache coming on.

"Hmm, if you say so, Enca-minnie. I will learn to sew for your sake." Iorveth tells him, not really reassuring Vernon it will happen but he would have wait and see when he returns from the important task - a meeting of the Lord of Baldur's Gate with Emperor Emhyr to discuss about the various Portals forming and allowing Witchers to help Baldurians with the monsters appearing.

"You better, Iorveth." Vernon grits out, slipping away from Iorveth when he is pulled back so Iorveth can pull him into a kiss where just for that moment he sinks into the comfort it brings him, before pulling back resting his forehead against that of his fiance's.

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🐿️⚜️

[unknownmusing]

Masterpost List of One's Own Fics Created and Still Creating

Fandoms:

Torchwood - Torchwood Fanfic: 'The First Tale of the Immortal Storyteller'

Baldur's Gate 3 - Masterpost of One's Baldur's Gate Fics (including Crossovers)

Dragon Age - Adoribull Fanfic: 'When a Thread of Fate Brings Two People Together'

The Witcher - The Witcher Fanstory Collection - Masterpost

Hannibal TV series (this includes Hannibal Extended Universe Fics)

Ghost of Tsushima

Chronicles of Riddick

Bleach (Manga/Anime)

Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler

Star Wars

The Dark Pictures (Game Series)

Marvel (various)

Original Works (Stories with Original characters)

DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel) 

Dead by Daylight (Video Game)

Black Sails (TV series) 

Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) 

Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) 

吸血鬼ハンターD - 菊地秀行 | Vampire Hunter D Series - Kikuchi Hideyuki 

Peaky Blinders (TV) 

James Bond (Daniel Craig Version)

[unknownmusing]

Masterpost of One's Baldur's Gate Fics (including Crossovers):

List of One's Baldur's Gate 3 Fics:

'Halsin x Astarion Fic - 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' Series - Part 1 of 'Love like Leaves on a Tree in Dappled Sunlight'

Crossover Baldur Gate and The Witcher Fic 'When Portal Mishaps Happen' Series Part 1 of 'Baldur's Gate and The Witcher Crossover Fic Collection'

Karlach x Astarion Fic - 'Flames of the Heart' (yet to be typed up)

Zevlor x Raphael Fic - 'Kiss of Hellfire' (yet to be typed up)

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Part 1 - 'The Journey Begins' (Act 1)(Spawn Astarion Route)

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PART 1 - The Journey Begins' (Spawn Astarion Route)

Location – River Chionthar, the Ravaged Beach - Destroyed Nautiloid -  approaching Early Morning

Astarion’s P.O.V :

"Astarion.....Look out.....!!!!?...."

An echo of a voice. 

Was someone calling out to me? 

My......body.....hurts.....head is....splitting apart....

Holding my head in both of my hands, a fleeting memory of sitting in the back of a tavern watching someone walking away from the table I’m sitting at with beside me another person looking torn in between wanting to go after them and staying with me coming to the forefront of my mind.

Who was that?

I don’t recognise them. I….there faces are too blurred to recognise.

Had I been hunting? What was I doing in that Tavern?

Concentrating on the fleeting memory makes a strange, painful wave pulsate through my head causing all of it to fracture into complete, metaphorical shards.

This makes it extremely difficult in grasping hold of these shards to make sense of the memory and piece it back together until I'm left there with nothing - just empty blackness. 

Lowering my hands down to rest on my lap, I survey my surroundings noticing around me there  is scattered about remains of one thoroughly destroyed Mindflyer's Nautiloid.  

Among the Nautiloid wreckage area I'm in dotted here and there are glowing fires flickering among the wreckage and lying right beside me, an oval-shaped pod - the interior no longer intact, the glass panel shattered by some type of impact it ascertained with the other remaining half lying a few feet away. 

A radiating pain makes itself known from my starting-to-heal injuries I’ve ascertained at some point.

Though, thankfully nothing majorly serious wound-wise for me to be too concerned about even if admit to myself pales in comparison in what Master Cazador had carved permanently onto my back with what he called his ‘needle’ during my first years of Spawn-hood.

Spawn-hood referring to when a Vampire Spawn had just been ‘born’ more like created I would say would go through before becoming fully-fledged Vampire Spawn who knew how to stalk, hunt, seduce and kill their Prey they hunted down.

In my case it was I would bring back any Prey that I stalked, hunted and seduced back to Master Cazador’s residence where he would change them into Vampire Spawn or just feast on them right there and then without any care about whether family or loved ones would miss them.

Realising suddenly, interrupting the memory of what I had done in the past, I need to get out of the sun before burn up to a fine, wispy crisp I haul myself up gritting my teeth when my still-healing injuries protest themselves at me for beginning to move.

Almost stumbling backwards and forwards with a dizziness of standing up too fast hitting me in the process.

Or could it be the new host within my head?

It's insistent burrowing wriggling evident but still feel like it's waiting for the right chance to take over - trying to weaken me one-step-at-a-time. 

Beginning to make my way through the wreckage are, I stop by bodies of victims Mindflyer's had captured from Baldur's Gate and the surrounding areas to see whether hidden on their person they have anything of value which wouldn't be missed and I could easily sell off to a traveling merchant or trade for something mundune if they had no coin. 

After finding a decent pair of boots, a fresh, white tunic and leather brown breeches in a buried wooden chest, I slip off what have been wearing - a threadbare white tunic and breeches needing patched-up in some places - to change into the clothing I've just found.

"Strange, how this clothing perfectly fits me." I mutter, stepping out from the tent which used to change in only to realise I'm standing full, bright sunlight with not even my flesh beginning to burn - no wisps of steam rising up, flakes peeling of my body and sensation of needing to get to the shadwos - just warmth.

Warmth, I have not felt in years I've been a Vampire Spawn and yet, here I'm standing within sunlight for the very first time and not burning up - probably because of the 'parasite' in my head, who squirms a wee bit in indigination at being called it, giving me the ability to survive in sunlight. 

Why though?

What's the purpose of all of this?

Inflict me.......damm....parasite...

More squirming from it in particular, chooses to interrupt my unanswered internal questions, indicating I'm being barred from even learning about why it been placed within my head and for what purpose.

"Are you sure you saw someone else, soldier." 

"I....it might have been....but with all the thick smog from the fires it's difficult to tell."

"Trust your instincts, wizard. You definately saw someone or something. Pray it not be one of those foul creatures, y'know.

"Please do not remind me. It's worse I'm…..”

The sound of voices speaking relatively close, makes me quickly pack up the set-up abandoned tent, plus other materials lying scattered about around it into a faded leather travel satchel before making my way over to another spot to give myself an advantage on ambushing whoever they are.  

After hiding my newfound travel satchel, I've taken from the destroyed camp, in a hollow of a tree, I compose myself - like an actor getting ready to go out onto stage - making sure a dagger is on hand just in case who's approaching where I'm now located turn out to hostile.

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 Location – River Chionthar, the Ravaged Beach - Destroyed Nautiloid -  Early Morning

Asdalen's P.O.V:

"Mama.....Mama?!! MAMA!!!?"

"Easy, child, they will be alright." 

"Wyll, this....we should get them back to the Grove."

"Are you sure, Dammon?"

"Positive."

Fluttering my eyes open at the sound of voices, at first see a blurred vision of someone leaning over before it finally clears revealing to Tiefling standing with Lesia beside him that scramble upwards to hug her little fae-body close to me – hearing her wailing into my chest – reassuring her I’m here for her and everything is going be alright.

“Umm, is this your mask?” the Tiefling asks, holding out the fine carved mask it forces me to quickly snatch it off them to slip it back on – whether they had seen what my face actually looked like, I prayed they hadn’t seen it – finding my heart-rate which had sped up return to a normal beat.

“Yes. Thank you.” I reply, getting up only for sudden, intense pulsating wave to hit me – something within my head begins to wriggle uncontrollably like it had sensed something – noticing the other person, who carries a blade on their person is gripping their head with one hand.

“Dammit, have you got a tadpole as well…haven’t you!!!?” they state, unsheathing their sword to point the sharp point at me finding myself wanting to hiss and bare my fangs at them – the other, unknown half of me threatening should slit their throat, rip out their spine and spread their entrails everywhere – but a sudden sound of fighting from somewhere close-by reaches us.

Getting up, I hand Lesia over to the Tiefling who takes her into the Grove leaving me and Dammon’s companion to head off to source of the fighting.

Whoever is fighting it sounded like they really needed more help from the number of magical explosions causing the air to tingle with the equivalent of electricity forming during a lightning storm.

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 Location – River Chionthar, the Ravaged Beach - Destroyed Nautiloid - Approaching Mid-Morning

Astarion’s P.O.V:

“Brother, please return us with us.”

“NEVER….I WILL NOT RETURN TO THAT CAGE!!!?”

“Please, Brother, let us help you….”

Hissing with my fangs bared at my ‘siblings’ trying to crowd themselves around me - even though there for them only some shadows due to it approaching mid-morning - so can capture me.

The fact they had discovered me so fast, just makes things even worse. I finally had a freedom, I hadn't experienced in a long time - the feel of sunlight on my skin, no shackles to chain me down to cold stone-floor and hear any of Godey's nagging voice to annoy me.

A snarl draws me out of my memories, giving a muffled 'ommph' when the bolder of my 'siblings' chooses to lunge at me - risking burning himself in the process - knocking me over into the shaded area of the large destroyed Nautiloid where desperation sinking in to escape from them begin to claw, scratch and struggle like a cornered animal does when trying to get free from the Predator or Predators.

Crimson petals splatter across the sand, coating it in so much it's difficult to tell who it's coming from with my other 'siblings' coming over to help the one trying to subdue me. I would not let this happen to me, never would I go back to place where 'he' waited for me and would force me back into gilded cage to effectively trap me so never escaped again.

"GALE, OVER THERE!!!?"

A voice shouts, startling my 'siblings' who raise their heads to look at the source of the intrusion giving me ample opportunity to get away, scrambling upwards to the other side of the destroyed Nautiloid to back into the light, where stumble weakly to collapse against a cliff-face hearing fighting beginning to happen.

Battle-cry from the female Tiefling indicating she was of the Barbarian; a sizzling sulfuric smell of magic coming from the Wizard and finally, the third companion a female half-elf using her own arsenal to protect them.

My mind feels torn between choices of helping them or making a dash for it, escape to higher ground or just get out of the area.

Using the cliff-face for leverage I push myself up but must have stood up too fast because my vision sparkles in front of me - Idiot, Astarion, you should have stood up slowly and not rushed it!! - and sway dizzyingly to one side, falling straight into a warm, muscular chest with hands grabbing hold of my arms to stop me from falling. 

What they say forces me to look up straight into kind, gentle hazel brown ringed with gold eyes and face that oddly looks familiar - but from where I cannot remember - closely followed by wondering how do they know my name and why are tears running down my face at the sight of....this stranger. 

"Easy, dear heart. You have ascertain......I've got you....I've got you......Astarion!!?"

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[unknownmusing]

Torchwood Fanfic: 'The First Tale of the Immortal Storyteller'

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Summary:

Hidden away in a small, undisturbed village located in a valley, a person called Javin Boeshane - a simple, book-keeper and writer, plus Historical Document Collecter - doesn't expect when they went to work that their peaceful, calm life would be shattered by the arrival of.....

....Torchwood and the person called Captain Jack Harkness.

So, begins a series of events all leading to a deep, dark secret which has been buried for some time and waiting to be told.

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Notes:

- An idea that came to mind after watching the last episode of Season 4 of Torchwood, where the learn about the thing called 'The Blessing' - Slight episode diverging, but will be including episode moments etc - Title refers to how Javin records information in Tales which can be spread to generation to generation or be for ones he closely considers family or friends. - In this Cristopf is the Ninth Doctor from parallel universe, where will explain more in further chapters as fic progresses.

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Prologue - 'The Immortal Storyteller'

Location - Scotland, Scottish Highlands - Hidden Alien Refuge Village, Hidden Valley - The Boeshane Cottage - Early Morning

Javin Boeshane's P.O.V:

The steady chime coming from the large Grandfather clock located downstairs in the hallway, brings me out of trying to finish the manuscript for my next book on the typewriter leaning back in my wooden chair to look out the study window at the white, wispy clouds rolling their way across the skyline.

In the place where I live, built for an important purpose is an alien refuge village for various species of aliens who over millennium have chosen to land or crash-land on planet Earth seeking somewhere to survive - away from what has happened to them in their solar systems. 

Precise location of The Boeshane Cottage  - my home - situated above the hidden valley helps in protecting the place from being discovered by UNIT or any other mysterious, hidden organisations who might came to investigate the strange, anomaly they might detect with their equipment or they learn about it from a Witness - referring to ordinary, human beings who accidentally stumbled upon the area, most of them minority being:

Hikers, who'd gotten lost exploring the Highlands; Tourists or Archealogists curious in rumours about a hidden village and finally, UFO Hunters who assisted aliens existed and had spotted some in the Highlands.

Dragging both of my hands down my face, I decide to put the manuscript I've been typing up on hold for now. There is no point in procrastinating over it, when my mind is distracted by something else - probably to do with said 'guest', if he could be called that, staying in the second bedroom of the cottage. 

Pushing my chair back from the study desk, the half-typed manuscript placed in the typewriter waiting to be finished and the blank paper placed to one side, I head out my study to step out onto the top floor landing. 

"Writer's block with the manuscript?" A voice interrupts me, making me turn slightly to face to the source of the voice asking me the question

Seeing my 'guest, Captain John Hart, stepping out of the other bedroom wearing his fashionable crimson miltary, styled jacket - which is not from the 21st Century and more suited to his style - along with his weapons and other stuff. 

Seeing I'm eying the open bedroom door, he closes it behind him - even though I've caught a brief glimpse of the ruffled bedsheets on the bed, clothes scattered about on the bedroom floor and the scent of strong, sex pheromones lingering in the air. 

"You could say that." I reply to his question.

Internally noting 'From his appearance - the well-coiffed hair, a faint scent of shampoo coating his body covered up by a cologne and a slight limp in his step - this indicates last night he had a good time with the person he brought back' until realise he's right beside me, waiting for me to either move or head down the stairs.

Not wanting to hang around on the landing, I turn myself around to descend the stairs with him following close behind me.

Neither of us say much, though no doubt he's itching to ask questions or wants to tell me some important information. 

Reaching the first-floor hallway leading to the front door on my right and kitchen area towards the back, it's a sudden thunk - Dammit, I thought Cristopf had fixed that dodgy step - forcing me to turn slightly to catch him. 

Though I've underestimated the momentum of his combined weight and mine, along with how I've got a foot placed on the second last step to lean myself up to catch him. 

Causing for both of us to fall straight down onto the hallway wooden polished floor to land with a heavy, muffled combined thud. 

"Javin? Hart? Is everything alright? You're not hurt are you?"

Cristopf, I hear calling out to the both of us lying on the wooden, polished hallway floor from the kitchen area, with a muffled, pained groan of "Fuck, why didn't you say about the step. Goddess, this is embarassing that trip up on it again" coming from John. 

Shifting his body to lift himself up off me so I can either get up myself on my own or he can help me get up off the floor. 

Or would have, it hadn't been for him stiffening in a way he's discovered something, his head lifting up to look down at me - in particular where his face had been buried when he fell into my arms - with unexpected, shocked surprise. 

"Everything's fine, Cristopf. John, just tripped on the dodgy step, again." I reply back to him, realising the other man above me is looking downwards at my heaving chest. 

Realising the special binder, holding my breasts flat against my chest to give the illusion I'm male, must have slightly, loosened to reveal the mounds showing underneath my black shirt 

Exposing a secret about myself - the fact, I was 51st Century human who been born male, but had a female body instead and is hiding the fact from people. 

"Does he know?"  John queries, flicking his eyes up to Cristopf, standing by the kitchen doorway followed by back down to me. 

Cristopf must have sensed both of us need some breathing space, so heads back into the kitchen to finish off cooking the breakfast he'd been making, leaving me and John alone. 

My mind debates on what to say him, opening my mouth to speak only to find I really know what to say to him - What can I say? Tell him the truth? Both of us know I can't trust him - with him giving 'Hmm...' getting up off me, holding out his hand bearing the Vortex Manipulator to me.

Taking hold of his right hand, I allow him to haul myself up the wooden, polished hallway floor onto both of my feet leaving me to compose myself. 

"You realise both of you can't hide for long. Soon this very, sweet peaceful life you've built may become shattered, Javin Boeshane."

John states, the back of his knuckle stroking my right cheekbone lightly to soothe me when visibly flinch at his tone of his voice - it's callous of him.

He's right.....He's right. 

Both of us know it. 

It will happen, this sweet, peaceful life I built with Cristopf will be shattered at some point...

But when? 

Now?

A few weeks time?

In the future?

 When.....will...it happen?

-----------------------------------

Notes:

- Set before Season 1, Episode 2 Day One which will be worked into next chapter. - This chapter deals with more introducing Javin to Captain Jack and the Torchwood Team

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PART 1 - 'An Ordinary Morning becomes Something Else'

Location - Scotland, Scottish Highlands - Hidden Alien Refuge Village, Hidden Valley - The Boeshane Cottage's Driveway- still Early Morning

"Did John say something to affect you, Javin?"

Cristopf asks, noticing how subdued I'm in not answering his question at first and refusing to look at him because I don't want to admit the truth.

"Just something which irritated me. Nothing to be worried about." I reply to him, unlocking the driver's side to enter the vehicle which use to get to work. Cristopf, wearing his faded jeans, leather jacket and simple, plain green t-shirt underneath steps close to me to place a hand on my waist and other tilt my chin upwards to look at him.

Looking at his gentle, sweet face and those eyes that have seen so many things – Universes forming and dying; life on planets never heard of and so many things that an ordinary human could only imagine – I find myself being pulled into a soothing, reassuring kiss.

Oh, how this reminds me so much of our first kiss we shared.

 I’ve missed this…. Missed his kisses and touch.

For a short time, I become lost in our kissing – lips softly moving against each-other’s and his hands moving to hold me closer to him like he’s afraid to let go of me in case I disappear from him. – until both of us pull back, one hand moving off my waist to stroke my cheekbone lightly with his thumb.

“I better…. umm….head off…” I state to him, breaking the tender moment between us, slipping into the driver’s seat and leaving him to close the driver’s door for me giving a look of ‘Will talk later about this.”

Stepping back to allow me to start the engine, where driving down the gravel driveway look at his reflection in the wingmirror getting smaller and smaller until turn to take the winding road out of the hidden valley to reach the M6.

Due to the trip to get Cardiff taking precisely 9hrs 39 minutes and distance is about 882km, I would have time to mull over stuff that been swirling it’s way around my head during my journey to the city.

-------------------------------

Location – Mermaid Quay, Cardiff Bay – The Boeshane Bookshop – Mid-Morning

Javin Boeshane’s P.O.V:

Hanging up my leather black great-coat on the wooden coat-hanger, I begin to open my Bookshop called The Boeshane Bookshop by going around checking the light sconces are working – it was old Historic building so the electricity wires still held hints of the past – and the small kitchen behind the counter is well-stocked and finally, stepping out onto the Mermaid Quay overlooking Cardiff Bay to pull the shutters covering the windows up.

Outside people are going about their daily lives: school children heading to school; mothers pushing prams or walking with their child or children; teenagers talking amongst themselves, listening to music or on their phone texting or scrolling through social media.

Un-padlocking the first shutters, I go to push one of them up or would have if it weren’t for someone knocking over me with such impact, I fall onto the pavement seeing a person wearing a blue RAF great over-coat chasing something with another person following close behind them.

“Fuck, bloody idiot. A bit of warning…. next time…” I swear out, trying to haul myself up using the flowerboxes on the window for stabilisation only to cry out when one of my leg’s gives out on me drawing the attention of people passing and two other people.

“I apologise. He’s a bit of a handful.” The medical-type person of the two people helping me up from the pavement to back into my bookshop over to red leather high-backed chair to sit down. A heavy wince forms on my features, bones which have shattered beginning to quickly heal due to my immortal healing factor is kicking in.

“Handful? More like menace. You do know there’s law about running about like that.” I grit out, seeing the woman I’ve overheard being called ‘Gwen’ heading into the kitchen-area behind the bookshop counter to get a glass of water.

“Well, uhhh…..he’s in a hurry…” the medical-type man states, his eyes studiously avoiding looking at me and hiding what he nearly about to say in case his colleague overhears him. “Now, can I see your leg. I need to make sure nothing is broken…What!?....I’m a medically trained professional.”

He begins to protest at me, while tries to check my leg, when I place my hand on his to push it off not wanting him to discover it’s already healed – though albeit still sore.

“It’s fine. I have a partner who can look over it.” I state at him, using the armrests of the red leather high-backed chair to haul myself up seeing how he gets up as well – it seems he only comes up to my chin – with a glare on that harsh, yet vulnerable face – Something happened to him. He shows on his face a haunted look of someone who’s experienced loss of a loved one. – and arms crossing over his chest.

Going to the kitchen-area, the bell above the shop-bell indicates someone else coming in a reflection in an ornate mirror embedded into the wall shows they are an older man wearing a RAF blue or grey greatcoat with a younger man wearing a suit beside them.

“Owen, is everything alright? We lost sight of the Wee….ummm, Pickpocket.” He asks the medical-professional, correcting his sentence when gets an elbow in the ribs by the young man in the suit making ‘Owen’ grumble something under his breath.

“Stubborn patient refusing help you mean.” Owen – He reminds me of her so much, right down to the mannerisms and look – replies, not really answering the question asked by his ‘Boss-man’ who comes up him with the ex-policewoman Gwen, appearing at the doorway of the kitchen-area going to interject with something.

Hmm, interesting team ‘Blue/grey greatcoat’ has brought together. One, stubborn and medically trained and hints may have done the danse macabre; the female Gwen an ex-policewoman by her stature and presence and other looking like he’s some kind of archivist.

Blue/grey greatcoat must have noted I’m taking in his team’s appearance, because he steps in front of the young man in the suit to block him from my line of sight. Pursing my lips, I brush past Gwen to go into the kitchen-area taking the glass of water off her to bring up to my lips to take a sip – one taste telling me what’s been placed in it.

“Next time you try and drug me, use a better memory replacement sedative.” I tell her, seeing how she looks at me with her widened, panicked eyes at my words with myself moving to go over to the sink where go to pour what’s in the glass down the kitchen sink to get rid of the contaminated water.

A hand grabbing hold of my wrist holding it tightly, makes me stiffen at it. I decide not to turn my face to look at the ‘Boss-man’ keeping myself looking at the calendar where important events are dated hearing him commanding one of his teammates.

“Gwen, lock the front door.” Blue/grey greatcoat orders, his hand moving to my trouser pocket for the key it makes me slap it away first, using my other hand to slap him across the face or would of if it hadn’t for his name being called out.

“JACK, LOOK OUT!!?”

My whole body goes completely numb, forcing me to wrench free from ‘Jack’ allowing the glass of water I’ve been holding still to fall onto the polished kitchen-area floor with a tinkling smash I only distantly hear.

It’s not possible!!!? He cannot be!!!? He can’t be…..Jaketh-Javic Piotr Thane, my sibling!!!?

Memories flood into my head, overwhelming me so much it’s like a dam which holds back tonnes of water breaking apart to allow torrent of water to cascade down into the valley below, swamping everything in it’s destructive path.

“Hey, we’re not going to kill you. Listen to me, we’re not going kill you.” A voice breaks through the haze of rushing water, forcing me to lift my head up to look straight at the very concerned face of my sibling, Jack/Jaketh-Javic’s face.

His team-mates who have come into the kitchen area are looking at me with various signs of concern written on their face – one protective; another medically trained and one empathic by the way he’s trembling at the doorway – with Owen, checking my pulse.

I try to speak, but the rush of water within my head begins to get louder again it blocks out everything around me.

My body must be seizing uncontrollably because can distantly feel someone's hands wrapping around me to stop my body thrashing about until finally the distinct prick of a needle silences the water, allowing me to go limp in the arms of the person holding me.

Maybe for the better.

--------------------------------

[unknownmusing]

Crossover Baldur's Gate and The Witcher Fic:

'When Portal Mishaps Happen'

Prologue - 'New Arrivals in the Grove'

Astarion resting up against a great oak in the centre of the Emerald Grove is busy turning a page in the book he's reading when the hairs of the back neck prickle sensing some type of raw, untamed magic that snapping his book shut gets up noting Halsin who's just returned from helping Zevlor - the elder tiefling, who knew a lot about Halsin even when he was young - had sensed it as well, pausing in his chat with the elder tiefling.

Suddenly, out of nowhere a portal forms ejecting two individuals who land on the ground with a distinct, muffled thump.

Astarion noting to his amusement the smaller one is blushing like mad, berating what turns out to be some kind of elf with highly decorated bow on his back with Halsin walking over to greet the pair, asking them in tone that neither angry or attack-mode more curious in who they were 'Who are they?"

-------------------------------

"So your saying were not in….where we come from….but a place called Emerald Grove." The other elf, called Iorveth, when Astarion had asked the mysterious, unknown wood elf his name noting how he keeps a hand around the waist of the human who sits beside.

Stating the 'dho'ine' as humans were termed where Iorveth came from was his and nobody else, he could see why Halsin was respecting the other elf's privacy by not intruding to deep into their lives.

"Yes, it happened once before. Well before my time, a white-haired silver wolf landed in the Grove along with another companion. I believe may have records in the library about the visit." Halsin states, causing Iorveth to laugh like he knows who precisely who Astarion's mate is talking about.

"Trust the infamous White Wolf as he is called to arrive in this place. Don't worry, him and I are friends of sorts." Iorveth says, reassuring that this person Halsin is discussing is not an enemy trying to take over the Grove and is completely harmless along with their 'Mate' who loves them very much.

Halsin, satisfied by the answer leans back slipping his arm around Astarion who blushes slightly in the presance of Iorveth with his human mate who has yet to reveal his name, so decides to be bold and ask them.

"Apologises, but umm….may I ask your name, Lily-one?" Astarion asks, the nickname not intentional but more because of the faded white lilies he can see embrodiared on what their wearing seeing how they still a bit wary of him - probably trying to analyse why he looks pale, has one red eye and a light ice-blue eye ringed with silver and white hair or maybe it was something else.

"Vernon Roche…..I…I'm just…..It's unexpected for some untamed, magical energy to do this where me and Iorveth are from. It's more of been done by a sorceress or mage, though to admit there have been a slight influx in them." Vernon replies, continuing to speak when Astarion indicates for him to go on with speaking. "It worries me, something from where we come from could easily slip through one and it would cause havoc."

Bringing up the tankard of Nutmeg Ale - which Halsin brewed himself - to take sip from it, licking his lips at the strange, taste before taking another sip of it.

"I see. Here it was the Mindflyers as their called, vile creatures if you ever meet one. We already know loads about them." Astarion says, jumping slightly against Halsin, when Iorveth brings up a neatly, severed head from attached to his belt of a Mindflyer.

"You mean this tentacle-freaked thing. Was wondering what it was called? Attacked us during….uhh….well….you know…." Iorveth tails off, blushing so hard it spreads from his face to the tip of his elven ears that quickly buries his face into his drink taking very deep glugs, Vernon equally looking very embarassed that Astarion and Halsin no longer able to hold in the laughter let it out knowing precisely what Iorveth means.

"Oh…..my…..you must spread a lot of pheromones, Iorveth. Or that it…..splahhagggh….Did you just chuck that ale in my face!!!?"

Astarion begins to say, only for Vernon to grab Halsin's still very fill tankard to splash the liquid in his face soaking his hair and white tunic - the black was at least less see through then the white - spluttering in shock and surprise at it.

"Oh, you know. I'm itching to let have whirl with my daggers. Care to join, Lily-one." Astarion snarls out, grinning with fangs exposed - this Dhoine knew how to fight dirty and he liked it.

"Gladly. Need to release some pent-up tension anyway." Vernon retorts back, getting up and following Astarion leaving Iorveth and Halsin sitting at the makeshift stone table with a severed Mindflyer head between them smirking at their lover's and their antics.

------------------------------

Part 1 - 'The Importance of Identity'

Identity.

Identity was important when Foltest was alive and Vernon was a Blue Stripes commander, commanding his own men in doing tasks which some would fear doing in case of risk of never returning from what they called 'Suicide Missions' but it all changed when Foltest died - a thing Letho had apologised for doing to him, after realising how deeply affected Vernon had become - that he lost that status and identity.

Accusations begin to fly around he was the one who caused King Foltest's death, he was the Hound which Foltest kept leashed to his side and controlled and so many other degrading things he did not want to remember even they haunted him at night.

He never really had told Geralt and Iorveth about it, choosing to lock it away deep in a mind vault never wanting to access those memories again - ever again.

However today it been a sentence from a young elvish brat close to Emerald Grove as him, Iorveth and Geralt had been sent by letter by Halsin that some unknown beasts from where they had come from had entered the surrounding area near the Grove and Halsin was concerned they could try and attack people.

"Vernon Roche you just a Whore…." they begin say to him, only to baulk heavily when Geralt unsheathes his sword from behind his back and Iorveth, gives the sternest glare ever to the young elvish boy at the sametime Vernon can feel a muscle twitching in his face - just who was this damm brat and why did he get Astarion and Halsin vibes from them.

Stepping forwards to confront them, he sees the awkwardness spreading on their face, how sweat is beading down their temples and eyes darting about here and there looking for escape route at the sametime saying "Sorry….." it surprises him.

Blinking, he goes to retort when a flash of silver light happens and next moment the young elvish boy is no-more but instead a field mouse in their place who makes dash for into the centre of the grove, Iorveth hot on it's heels leaving Vernon to look at Geralt who sheathing his sword walks down with to see Astarion berating Iorveth and holding in his hands the field-mouse.

"You….attack my own son!!!?" Astarion screeches, startling some birds from the trees, forcing heads to turn to the source and Vernon wishing he could now just disappear.

This was going be awkward and embarassing to even explain why Iorveth had done so.

"YOUR SON, CHOSE TO CALL MY….MATE…A VERY RUDE THING, FANG-SUCKER!!!?" Iorveth shouts, before standing up straight to calm himself muttering as gets out his pipe to smoke it with Astarion placing his son down to talk with him - a flash of silver light and the field mouse is now the elvish boy who has his head lowered and looking very meek and frightened.

"Is this true, Halin? Sweetie, I already told you….you don't just say random words like that. Has Kalina being say things to you again?" Astarion asks his son, who gives a meek "Yes" quickly rising his head to look at his Mama.

"But….she only said because she thought he looked he'd been one….I'm sorry…Mama….I didn't mean…..to…"

"Apologise to our guests, not to me." Astarion sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve a headache coming on. "Especially, Vernon Roche, particularly. Now do it, turn and face him."

----------------------------------------

Notes:

In this fic snippet Halsin and Astarion have a son called Halin and Karlach and Dammon have a daughter named Kalina

[unknownmusing]

A Plague Tale Fanfic 'Resolve'

Notes:

A fanstory connected to 'A Plague Tale: Innonence and Requiem'

Acting as third sequel, ignoring the ending of Requiem which went into modern times

Slight canon diverging with flashbacks going be in italics

Images used above sourced from https://www.artstation.com/search?sort_by=relevance&query=plague%20tale

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Prologue - 'Shattered Hope' (1 of ?)

Many Years Earlier (set during the outbreak of the Justinian Plague, Basilius Imprisonment and Aelia)

Location - Sacred Chapel Lands of La Sucaros, Island of La Sucaros - 541 A.D - Late Evening

A figure wearing a hooded robe, plus some type of armour walks calmly up a stone-path carved into the side of a large mountain that protects a valley down below, huggin the sides where parts of path have over years of weathering collapsed forming large gaps revealing a long drop down below.

Finally reaching the top of the mountain's plateau, they look back down the valley - the town with it's harbour filled with various sizes of fishing vessels, the large light-house to bring ships home and finally the once great palace where the children Basilius and Aelia Dragas once lived before they had disappeared never to be seen again.

A sudden large explosion coming from two other mountains with a large gap between startles them, quickly turning towards the source of the noise to see a cloud of dust rising upwards into the night-air.

"No....No....No....they couldn't have!!!?"

They begin to run, passing a series of vegetable fields and cultivated vineyard where workers who'd been heading home are watching the plume of greyish-black smoke continuing to raise upwards and blot out the moon's light.

--------------------------------------------------

"PILE MORE BARRELS BY THAT DOOR!!? I WANT IT OPEN IMMEDIATLY!!!?"

Slaves in tattered rags and chains on wrists and ankles ferry back and forth carrying large amphora jars of Greek Fire from a cart over to a massive double door bearing a faded fresco on it that almost looks like it is respresenting death.

"Is this wise?"

"Do you have better ideas??"

"No, Senator Vitalis I."

A sudden commotion, followed by a hooded figure being flung down onto the stone-ground to be quickly pinned down by heavy armoured soldiers where they claw in desperation to try to get free, only for a dagger to stab straight down into their hand, interrupts the conversation between the Senator and the soldier.

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[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Part 1 - 'The Journey Begins' (Ascended Astarion Route)

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SEVERAL DAYS LATER

Location – Mindflyer Ship – Area Unknown – approaching Early Morning

Astarion’s P.O.V:

Sharp, blinding pain like being stabbed by thousand needles – even worse when Cazador had carved the mark on my back with his ‘needle’ as he called it – forces to shoot my eyes open seeing at first a blurry image in front of me then it clears to reveal I’m trapped in some kind of pod.

Panic begins to set in me on how to escape when a Mindflyer appears out of nowhere pressing something on the side of the pod where the unexpected sensation of dreaded fear fills my whole body at their presence.

I find myself becoming paralysed with their clawed slimy, cold hand grabbing hold of my chin to forcefully turn it to reveal the two puncture marks on neck - Cazador's fang-marks - using their other hand to pry my jaw open to reveal my fangs.

It's gaze is unnerving, like it's analysing me under a microscope - noting my fangs, how I produce the venom - less potent then actual Vampire's venom though - and the sharpness of them - until pulling back to float itself over to a pool of liquid where something white and tadpole lake swims within the ominious liquid.

The Mindflyer summons it out, bringing the floating white parasitic tadpole over to my trapped body in the pod where desperation begins to seep into me that I start to thrash in restraints holding me trapped within the pod.

"NO.....DON'T YOU....DARE....BR..."

Shouting loudly in the large chamber only for a clawed hand grabs hold my whole face - completely covering it - to slam the back of my head against the back of the curved pod-wall with a sickening crack reaching my ears.

My whole body goes limp in the pod, blood trickling down the back of the nape of my neck along with dizziness overwhelming me it allows the Mindflyer to remove their hand from my face to slip it around to wrench my head back by my hair.

A faint whimper escapes me due to the radiating pain from my head injury, fingers twitching uselessly - itching to raise up and claw the face of the Mindflyer but can't - seeing the white parasite-like tadpole being brought up to my right eye.

It's gnashing teeth inch closer and closer, until the thing lunges straight inwards it sends immediate writhing, unexplainable pain throughout my nerves, blood and especially head.

It feels like my skull is splitting apart - memories being shattered apart into tiny fragments by the burrowing parasite-like tadpole I cannot grasp them to save from being destroyed - until finally having completed it's task the pain stops.

Wetness is trickling down my cheeks, but it's not even affecting the Mindflyer in front of me who floats away to shut the pod leaving me alone with nothing left in my mind - I cannot remember any face who appears as I try to remember with it trickling away like sand through one's fingertips.

A harsh sharp blinding pulsating wave through my head from the parasite-like tadpole inhibiting it knocking me into an unconcious state.

I try to fight back, resist only to feel myself in mind harshly wrenched downwards to a black abyss falling slowly until landing in large lake of crimson where the waters of it begin to submerge my body - moving rapidy upwards - until the last sight I see floating above me is mirror image.

It's pale, white hand comes down to cover my face pushing me it back so I become fully submerged underneath the crimson waters - trapped beneath it, reminding of when my Master Cazador had placed me in sealed coffin as punishment for disobeying him.

It's the only I remember and nothing else. Nothing at all.

Not even the person who stirred up thoughts of woodland, warmth and hazel brown eyes ringed with gold.

What did it mean?

Who was this person?

Did I seduce them to take to Cazador?

I cannot remember.......I cannot remember.......

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[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate Playthrough by Neil Newbon, Other Baldur's Gate and related Stuff:

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Baldur's Gate Playthrough - Early Access and Full Release played by Youtuber's Christopher Odd and Luckless Lovelocks - List:

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Baldur's Gate 3 Cast play D&D

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Prologue 1 to 3 (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion and Ascended Astarion Route)

----------------------

Note:

Spawn Astarion and Ascended Route will start with same prologue then it will be separate chapters as rest of fic progresses to represent both routes

-------------------

Notes:

A Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion fic inspired by the game Baldur Gate 3 and watching ongoing playthrough of it on Youtube

Slight canon diverge with some made up Background stuff for Astarion and other characters

WIP mode as use the wiki fandom and playthroughs to get idea of characters

Title refers to how Astarion and Halsin join up with the rest of the *company ( *will be introduced in later on chapters) but also travel a path together which leads to something more.

Starts off with Astarion's P.O.V

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Prologue - 'A Pale Elf in a Grove' (1 of 3)

------------------------------------------------

Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Approaching Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

"Is Halsin a fool?!!! Why has he brought this 'thing' here!!!?"

"I do not know….it greatly concerns….Archdruid Halsin!!!… We…..yes…..we understand…."

Voices.

Whispering amongst themselves before going silent, footsteps fading into the distance of somewhere which smells moist, lush and fresh - like it's not been tainted by any pollutants - and movement of something large, warm and furry choosing to lay down beside me.

Why couldn't I remember what had happened? What even had happened? Had I been attacked by someone or something?

Those questions remain swirling around my aching head - like I been hit by something very heavy and large - that it is difficult to even force myself to wake up so can check my surroudings, only sink into deeper sleep like I'm being made to do it to help me heal. So different when my Master Cazador treated me - his more of punishment so cruel, unkind and harsh it border on machositic that he didn't really care how many times he hurt me.

I must have whimpered because a soft chuffing noise comes from the large, warm furry thing beside me with wet snout nudging me to force me to roll onto my side to face into a warm furry belly and chest of what scenting register is in fact bear at least I think it is. I want to wake, I need to wake.

But the drowiness is settling in so fast, a soothing calming wave washing over me that find myself relaxing for the first time in centuries, allowing myself to fall asleep against the warmth of the large bear beside me.

TIME SKIP

"Hnngh…..Gaahhh!!!?" It is the sensation of sunlight from above burning it's way up my exposed arm which forces me very rudely awake from the deep, healing slumber I had been placed under trying to get up when realise a large, muscular arm - human?…. No….scenting the air…..again….a Wood Elf - is over my waist effectively trapping me against a very muscular, large and naked Wood elf bearing a tattoo mark on one side of his face and horredenous, but oddly enough appealing scars from no doubt from being attacked on his face as well.

Concerned about promixity of our bodies, I shuffle my lower half backwards away from the Wood elf's groin area only to give out a yelp when the large hand which has been around my waist immediatly yanks me flush against the large, muscular chest forcing me to place both my hands on it - or more accurately on top of the Wood Elf's pecs on both their dusky hued nipples to my embarassment even though this unnamed Wood elf does look like a fine specimen.

The sudden hiss of sunlight touching my exposed skin causes me to thrash soon in their grip, managing to wriggle free to quickly roll over to the shadows.

Collapsing slump up against a base for a statue of a wolf carved from stone, I wince at the stinging ache from the sun-burn on my arm hoping my healing factor kicks in, only to notice the wood elf has woken up looking straight at me.

"It's alright, I won't harm you." the wood elf says, voice so deep, husky and soothing it sends a strange shiver through me at the sametime that luring scent of his sweet, smelling blood reaches me.

It is so tempting, I don't realise I prowled out of the shadows into a shaft of sunlight until I'm scrambling back into them cursing myself with my fangs unsheathing themselves, steam still rising from the sun-burnt wounds until finally wisping away and bits of my burnt skin turned to ash to flutter to the ground

"I…need you….to stay just there…" I warn them, only for them to ignore my warning coming over to kneel down in front of me taking hold of my wrist to pull my arm out straight investigating the damage, seeing when I turn my face to one side to wince with eyes slipping shut or peeking open slightly to watch what he's doing.

------------------------------------------

Notes:

Title refers how unexpected emotions begin to form in Astarion that he's not used to and how he loses control to them and Halsin the same.

Third part will deal with introducing the Leader of the Party and their background, plus the start of the Mindflyer attack then moving into Act 1

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Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

Halsin – as the Druid or Archdruid to be precise of Emerald Grove is called – is an enigma of a Wood Elf, with most of his time discussing about Nature, protecting the Grove and in his spare time doing mostly mundane things which some to admit were interesting to know about:

his whittling of little carvings of animals so detailed it actually fascinated me to watch from afar doing his work; seeing him resist the temptation of honeyed treats being sold by travelling merchants that couldn’t resist haggling with them to include more of new variations every-time they came back to just watch his eyes sparkle and pretend he’s not drooling over them and finally, seeing him in his bear form allowing children to ride on his back.

Looking over to where he’s discussing something highly important with another Druid – a female Half-elf called Jaheira, who keeps on flicking her gaze over to me wariness showing in her eyes - probably about myself.

Deciding not to hang around, I keep myself to the large grove's shadows, avoiding the spots of sunlight to head to the extensive cave-system of the Emerald Grove.

Within the cave-system, I make my way down towards the halfling merchant - Arron - located nearby a Altar busy checking his wares he's ascertained from his travels.

He stiffens though, ears twitching side to side then turns his gaze to look at me leaning up against a rock pillar in the shadows causing him to give out a ‘Tch, it’s you’ turning to face me where crosses his arms over his chest.

“I told you already, Pale Elf, if you want to sample my wares find out who’s pickpocketing around here.” Arron states, forcing me to raise an eyebrow because it sounds like he's accusing me of being the one doing it.

"And you think I have something to do with it. Heh, I would not resort myself to such lowly act." I state back, slipping myself away deciding I need to go hunting to distract myself from the mutiple heartbeats that head up to the main entrance.

Reaching where the gate is, I stop myself just in time.

The sun has risen at it's highest peak meaning the gate area is completely flooded with light leaving no shadows for me to use to reach it.

Choosing to lean up against a pillar, I find myself looking over at it trying to ascertain whether make a dash for it or wait until nightfall to go hunting for Prey.

Tilting my head backwards, my mind floods to fact I've not felt any sense of my Master Cazador trying to will me back to the Lair where I took lured Prey - most ended up dead and flung into giant pit, others turned in Spawn like me or completely disappeared that even asking would have risked the ire of him so never asked.

"You seem lost in thought, silver-tongue." the disdaining, dripping tone of the female druidess half-elf Jaheira reaches my ears, I lower my head down un-leaning myself from the pillar I brush past her quickly refusing to even acknowledge when find myself suddenly yanked backwards by a glowing tendril of energy straight into large area of sunlight I'd been trying to avoid.

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“Jaheira, what have….you done…!!!?”

“You are too soft, Halsin. We cannot trust this, silver-tongue. You must have noticed how ‘it’ avoids the shadows!!!”

“That I already know. It doesn’t mean you act irrational by doing what you did.”

Shuddering into wakefulness, the first thing to reach my nostrils is the scent of wildflowers – a mixture of so many it takes time to list – with my eyes fluttering open to reveal I’m lying naked in a on a bed of vines and wildflowers entwined together in a cocoon with no sunlight penetrating it.

My acute hearing had picked up Halsin berating until finally blessed silence with me having to use my Predator senses to see how many heat signatures are outside of the healing cocoon – only one – with a gap appearing to reveal the large, wood elf.

Realising he may see the circular scar on my back, I try to move myself only for so much agony to shoot through my body I curl into myself with my bandaged hands wrapping around my bandaged waist shaking so much at it.

“Hgnnnhh…..shit…..shit…..”

Cursing under my breath, biting my bottom lip along with his large hands rolling me onto my back – checking me over – until finally a soothing healing wave from both his hands spreads over me. He is leaning over me in the process, I find myself eying the throbbing, pulsing vein in his neck that pumps his lifeforce within his body.

“Is something wrong?” He asks me, so suddenly I don’t know how to give a proper answer to him which may convince him I'm just appreciating his body and not his blood flowing in his veins.

"I…..umm…may I taste…." I begin to ask, only for him to sit back resting his hands on his lap finishing my sentence. "…to taste my blood." it makes me scramble upwards needing to leave only for him to take hold of me turning my chin to force my face into the crook of his neck.

"Drink."

A command, but not a forced, soft and gentle with myself fully turning in his arms to rest up against his large, muscular chest slipping my hand up cradle the back of his head to tilt his head backwards by his soft, hazel brown locks.

Fangs unsheathing themselves, I sink them straight in hearing him give out a stiffening grunt at it knowing he will react to the venom which will give a numbness and pleasured feeling to the Prey being subdued.

All is quiet, except for occasional soft grunts coming from each-time I take a sip of his blood until finally his large arms are pushing me back seeing how drunk I've become on the taste on it - a blush rising on my cheeks, lips coated still in some of it, that it is so addicting it is feat in me trying to avoid going back for more.

Instead, moving myself over him and placing one hand on his chest to push him down to lay flat on his back noting his hazel brown eyes ringed with gold looking up at mine. Putting my hands either side of his head, I bend down my head down to rest my forehead against his wondering should I do it, licking my lips.

“Thank you.” I tell him, finding weird saying it because I’m not used to saying it – I been ingrained in Master Cazador’s rules and have already broken one – before sealing my lips over his, feeling him stiffening underneath me only to respond with soft, equal fervour it is something part of me wants and other is rebelling at it.

I try to pull away, but he pulls me back into devouring my mouth with his own – lips changing position each-time to deepen the kissing between us both, his tongue flicking across them begging admittance so allow for it to happen.

My whole body quivers up against him.

The sensation of his large hands wrapping around my body, one cradling the back of my head and other resting on my back with his warm, moist tongue entwining with mine inside and outside my mouth makes me want to pull away from him.

Managing to release my lips from his, I gasp breathlessly with my face turned to one side willing myself to calm down - use the seductive techniques I use for Prey to take back to Cazador on him.

“Astarion…..look at me.” Halsin says, voice husky with arousal making me turn my face to look up at him seeing how affected he is – his pupils dilated, lips still swollen from our kissing and no doubt his aroused below – then continues to speak. “I…. don’t whether I can control myself in what happens next.”

Bringing both my hands up to cup his cheeks, looking up into those hazel brown eyes ringed gold I realise what is happening to me - I'm losing control to unexpected emotions rising up within me.

And it is frightening me.

------------------------------------

Notes:

Connected to Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Introducing Asdalen - a drow elf with Dark Urge Origins and also Halsin's Half-brother (more will be explained about that later in further one chapters) and Lesia, his adopted fae child; Asdalen will be the main leader of the party and romance partner will be Gale.

What happens to Astarion and Halsin will be told in flashback.

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Prologue (3 of 3) - 'When an Unexpected Event Separates Those Close to Others'

Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Approaching Mid-Morning 

12 DAYS LATER

Making my way through the streets of Baldur's Gate towards the 'Whispering Weave' Tavern, I keep an eye on Lesia who is running ahead - her wispy fae form so different from the various Baldurians and other travellers walking back and forth - of me.

My mind is thinking about my half-brother Halsin - an Archdruid of the Emerald Grove located in the Western Heartlands, Western Faerun - knowing it's been quite some time we have met up to discuss things or even talk properly.

Approaching the Tavern, which is near the Harbour, I see two people are walking down towards it - though one of them seems to be keeping mostly to the shadows I notice and the other I recognise is Halsin, who spotting me goes to say something when I finally reach the both of them only to bite his bottom lip which his companion notices before flicking his gaze over to me.

Lesia, spotting Halsin runs up to him to greet him and hold out her little hands to be lifted up by him.

I wait to see whether he will do it, part of me - an unknown, uncontrolled side whispers, 'Kill them both' and other horrendous things - and the more rational side - though don't know how long it will last - knows he can't deny her.

Finally, he bends down to lift her up, surprising his silvery white-haired companion beside him that approach though still with caution because it's been quite some time since seen him.

"Hello, little one." Halsin says, smiling softly with his companion - keeping to the shadows - admiring in their own way until finally turns their gaze to me.

Behind the white-bone mask I wear to cover my face a strange, prickling sense that I'm being analysed by a Predator hits me.

My own unknown Predator's senses soon wanting to confront back and tear their throat out.

----------------------------

Astarion’s P.O.V:

Coming back to Baldur’s Gate after twelve days, I know at some point Cazador will send out my ‘siblings’ to collect me but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so as myself and Halsin walk through the marketplace close to the Harbour.

Stopping in the shadows of archway, Halsin turns to face me when sees I seem to be not my usual self – my body tone is showing wariness – so brings a hand up to cup my cheek to reassure me everything is alright with him being here for me.

Immediately resting my forehead against his, hands moving to rest own on his large, muscular chest it makes me realise the twelve days and nights we’ve shared together – his soft, breathless kisses he will give me; reassuring me when nightmares overwhelmed and finally, making sure my bloodthirst is sated – it has felt like freedom.

“I…don’t want to leave you….just yet….” I admit, knowing we must go our separate ways with him heading back to the Emerald Grove and myself back to my ‘prison’ kissing him soon on the lips where he uses his other hand to pull me flush up against him.

Around us the noises of the Harbour and the Marketplace reach my ears – Market stallers shouting out the wares; dock workers heading up and down ramps on ships delivering various goods back and forth and Baldurians going about their daily lives – but I’m not listening to it, just relaxing to kiss my ‘Mate’ is giving me.

Finally pulling back from it, licking my lips at his taste, I smile softly up to him slipping one hand down to clasp my fingers with his, while we soon begin to make our way to the Tavern called 'Whispering Weave' to share a last moment drink before going our separate ways.

Discovering that Halsin had a ‘brother’ of some kind is unexpected, because he never mentioned anything about having a family until now so meeting them – who wears long black thief clothing with hood included, plus bone-white mask hiding their face – along with a little fae child called Lesia, it is taking me some time to try and make sense of them.

I can tell they are like me almost – a Predator fighting their own instincts to attack the presence of another Predator in front of them.

Deciding to introduce myself is the better option of being silent and not saying anything to them.

“You have a beautiful child.” I comment, making them turn their gaze to me.

Body language still showing signs of wariness but relaxing enough to respond back to me.

“She’s….Thank you…Umm…” they begin to say, allowing me to introduce myself. “…Astarion Ancunin, a pleasure to meet you…”

“Asdalen.” They nonchalantly reply, causing Halsin to lower the little one wanting to say something but closes his month instead like he knows it may not help the both of them.

Torn between the awkwardness I’m sensing rising between them both, I decide to relieve it by deciding to say something which is mundane yet helps "I'm famished. How about we all get a bite to eat and all have a good chat together. Maybe even hear some of your lute music, Asdalen.' clapping both my hands together seeing how Lesia jumps up and down at hearing the words 'bite to eat' pulling her adopted father's sleeve.

Halsin having composed himself, slips his arm around my waist to pull me against his side and giving me a certain look of 'I didn't know you had an interest in music' it makes my chest ache at the look he gives me. The sudden thought is that I want to know everything about him - how he become Archdruid, what was his childhood like, how did he find out about his brother - and his brother.

Repair what feels like a fragile relationship between them which could easily be broken anytime.

------------------------

Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Mid-Morning

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Have you been travelling far?”

“Only to certain areas. There’s been some places refusing travellers entry.”

Drunken laughter, chatter and clinking of mugs fills the air with myself and Lesia sitting with Halsin and Astarion in an alcove at the far back of the Tavern where Astarion sitting next to my half-brother is asking me about my travels.

Most of what I tell him is about how on my travels where noticed Missing Poster had been appearing a lot; some places were wary of new travellers due to whispers about raise of Cultists and more monsters beginning to appear in certain areas.

“I see. To admit, I’ve not noticed….that kind of thing due….” Astarion begins to say only tail off, taking a sip of the wine he’s ordered with Halsin moving a hand to place it over his – squeezing it lightly to reassure the pale, High elf who gives weak smile.

‘You’ve been hiding in the shadows for too long.’ I state internally, not saying it out loud lest the Gur Hunters sitting only a few feet away from where we’re sitting overhear and come over to investigate.

Halsin, is happy. A soft, warm glow Lesia describes it to me in silent communication which reassures my brother will be alright in the relationship he has with Astarion leaving me to think of one person who I miss the most – Gale Dekarios, my lover and chosen Mate.

Where is he now?

Is he coping?

Has he returned to Waterdeep?

“Bard, do you play?” A new voice asks of me, leaving the internal questions in my head unanswered, so turn my face to the source seeing a figure wearing fine refine stands there indicating to the lute in the holder on my back.

“I play, yes. It depends on the crowd though and what they would like to hear.” I reply, seeing the newcomer raise one delicate eyebrow in amusement at it. “And you…. what would you like to hear?” asking them a question back to them.

“Me?! Well, let’s see…” They reply, bringing one hand up to tap their chin in deep thought until give small smirk at me. “How about an original composition. I believe this one should suffice ‘Beautiful Voice of the Past’ for you, Bard.”

A violent visible shudder goes through me, Astarion placing his hand on my arm to pull me back down into my seat – I hadn’t realised I had stood up to confront the newcomer – my mind torn in how they knew about the song – a song I composed only for Gale and no-one else – and who played it.

“I don’t play it for crowds.” I whisper under my breath, voice breaking with so much emotion I get back up with Lesia sensing I need to leave allowing me to pick her up.

Politely excusing myself when brush past the newcomer, I weave through the patrons and tables to reach the main Tavern door or would have if it hadn’t been for sudden explosion sending myself and her still in my arms flying backwards over the Tavern bar into the alcohol drink-rack hard.

Followed by tinkling noise of smashed apart bottles of wine, beer and brandy to name a few.

The wooden shelf collapses under my weight, forcing my body to fall to the floor in wounded, bleeding heap of a mess with Lesia beginning to whimper in my arms – her little fae body fading in and out focus due to being very frightened of what is happening – seeing the blurred image of the Tavern patrons running out in all directions only to be cruelly snatched up by what appear to be Mindflyers.

Another explosion rocks the tavern, sending shockwaves through the floorboards which begin to crack and splinter in all directions – sending shards of wood flying in all directions – feeling below me the wooden floor give out on myself with Lesia being wrenched out of my arms by something leaving me to fall into the blackness of the underground cellar.

The faint roars of my Brother’s Wildshape, Lesia crying out my name again and again reach me with Astarion lunging himself towards the collapsed hole made by the falling floorboards to grab hold of my wrist trying in vain to pull me back up – even though I can see he’s struggling due the wounds he’s ascertained.

“Asdalen, quick…..give me your other hand before the next wave hits!!!? It seems to be full-scaled attack on Baldur’s Gate!!!? We need….NO!!!! GET THE HELL AWAY ME…!!!!?” He cries out, only to panic heavily looking over at something or someone I cannot see due to my disadvantaged angle.

A fast, but to me blurred, inky-black shadow speeds it's over to him in such a blink of an eye to knock him over to the other side, leaving me with nothing to grab hold onto to help pull me back up to safety.

Falling for quite some time, I finally reach the bottom of what turns out to be the underground lower cellar for the Tavern with sickening, bone-crunching thud – worse agony than what my own people, the Drows have done to me – it shatters everything instantly, finding myself going limp at it immediatly.

So, this is how I die?

Separated from my half-brother who just met again?

I never got to even tell him…..everything……

Halsin…..Astarion……Lesia…

My thoughts wander in my head, my body is lying shattered beyond compare and any chance of moving is not probable with how serious my injuries are from the shards of glass embedded in it and large wood splinters.

My blood can distantly feel is pooling out from underneath my body or over it to trickle off it to cover the cobbled stones of the cellar in various array of crimson petals.

The unknown, uncontrolled side seems to be gleefully laughing in my head at the demise – death by falling, shattering every bone in my body and allowing my lifeforce to drain away.

It's the last thing I hear before blackness swoops in dark like raven’s wings and I remember nothing thereafter.

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[unknownmusing]

Adoribull Fanfic: 'When a Thread of Fate Brings Two People Together'

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Plot Summary:

A story of how a Mage and Qunari who are both of different races slowly over time as they spent having adventures together begin to develop something more between them.

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Prologue - 'The Beginning of a Thread of Fate Weaving between Two Different Races to Join Them Together' (Part 1 of ?)

Location - Un-named river some distance from Redcliffe Village - Hinterlands, Ferelden - Late Evening

In an area surrounded by meadow grass and wildflowers, while a river winds it way through mountainous region a few feet away, Dorian Pavus flicks through the tome he picked up on his travels using the light from the crackling camp-fire to illuminate the pages so he can read them - some of the writing is faded over time with other parts missing paragraphs but the diagrams helped understand the spells being mentioned.

So absorbed in his reading of the tome he doesn't hear his second companion travelling with him approaching the camp, until a thud of something heavy lands close-by making him lift his head to see some kind of wild boar lays there - though looking more mutated and hybrid-looking - then flicks his gaze up to his large companion who's reached for a large carving knife to sharpen it with a whetstone.

"Don't worry, I know which cuts to get that won't make us ill." Iron Bull - a Beast of the the Qunari - states to Dorian who's wondering if should decline in eating but his stomach betrays him by choosing to grumble indicating he's hungry.

This makes the large Qunari chuckle at him, standing up to pick up the wild boar's body to take it over to the branch of tree to begin skinning it - removing the fur; other parts which are inedible and finally cutting it so effeciently and effortlessly that Dorian forgets for a moment Iron Bull has murdered various people in similar ways as he watches the sight of the minotaur working away.

The slope of the large muscles shifting, every soft way the hands slide over the dead boar's body testing to see which way to cut and turning it to check the other side of it that gulping slightly, Dorian shuts the tome to place in his travelling pack and getting up heads down to river needing some space.

His mind begins to flood with so many images, he quickly places a clenched fist in his mouth to silence any sounds - this was frankly embarassing, he's acting like a young randy male seeing a female they like but don't want to admit - when he reaches the beach-area nearby the river curve so that Iron Bull can't pick them up, his other resting over his abdomen close to his groin.

"Control yourself, Dorian…..Control yourself…..you hate his Race…..remember….." He mutters under his breath, only for sudden image of him and the beast embraced in such a way his clenched fist moves away from his mouth to grip his shoulder and other cup himself between his thighs arching slightly when unexpected heat floods through him at it.

He moans breathlessly to his shame, horror and embarassment knowing that the Qunari would pick it up with their acute hearing only to sink down onto the sandy ground lying back to begin to rub himself through his breeches, thighs quivering intensely and mind flooding with so many images, whispers and sensation of being embraced he can't help but let out mewling breathless gasps, pants and whimpers.

What is happening to him?

Why was heat flooding throughout his system like his body had realised he was compatible with the Qunari when records stated it wasn't possible for a Beast of the Qunari to be compatible with a Human and other species and only their own.

Was it because of when they met that fateful rainfall night the touch from the Qunari had left an imprint and somehow they both become compatible?

--------------------------------------

 PART 1 - 'How the Thread First Formed Between Two'

Location - Tevinter Imperium - Nothern Thedas, Minrathous - Approaching Late Evening 

2 Years Earlier

Rain is falling down heavily on the streets of Tevintar Imperium in Northern Thedas, Minrathous, drowning out the sounds of scuffle going on between four people – the fourth trying to make dash for it, an alleyway between two large buildings briefly becoming illuminated by an eerie light which fades away when they are knocked over before can get out of the alleyway where curses in native Tevene begin to fill it.

“Maybe we should gag him for good measure. This….fucking mage as a mouth on him doesn’t he.”

“Just remember his….the Magister Pavus I mean wants him alive.”

“Heh, yeah good coin being paid for escorting this….”

Dorian Pavus – son of Halward Pavus and Aquinea Thalrassian – finds him struggling in vain to get away from the larger of the Hired Thugs pinning him down onto the alleyway ground mostly grinding to his vain his face into it, discussing with the other two thugs debating on what do with him.

It is a handful of days since he run away from his home and for good intentions and reasons, he never wanted to set foot there again. Surrounded by something which had started to become the equivalent of a gilded cage which he begins to wonder would ever be able to get out of.

“Heh, seems our Mage here is being a little too quiet.” One of the Hired Thugs notes, squatting down in front of him to reach out to grab hold of the back of his head by his hair wrenching it upwards to force him to look at harsh, unforgiving cold eyes. “What you thinking about? Way to escape?”

Glaring back, Dorian refuses to answer resulting a hand immediately slapping him across the face so hard it leaves his ears ringing and splitting his lower lip in the process allowing blood to trickle down the side of his lip and chin closely followed by a hand grabbing hold of his chin to dig their nails harshly into his cheeks when they say their next words.

“You know I always hated Vint’s like this, Pompous, arrogant and vain. Only thinking about themselves.”

Brought up onto his feet, Dorian wonders if can summon a quick spell – one that will get rid of the Hired Thugs - when a gruff, deep voice interrupts it sends prickles up and down him in a such a way it felt like when one meets their Soulmate for the first time and their coloured Soul Threads connect.

“And does that count for yourself as well."

A very large, tall figure stands there at the entrance to the alleyway wearing a faded hooded cloak looking straight at the Hired Thugs surrounding him.

"So......Did you miss me?" Is the first words from the large hooded figure - who after the brief glimpse Dorian had seen of their face when they were fighting is a Qunari who looks oddly familiar and bringing back a memory of night at a Masked Party, an embrace in large arms and so much unexpected overstimulation it was feat he managed to get up to leave in the morning - as he leans against the alley brick-wall with his arms crossed over his chest and staff back in its holder on his back.

Sighing heavily with one hand up coming to pinch the bridge of his nose he wonders how he answer the Qunari - the hulk of a beast who he had a one night stand with, before escaping from the guest bedchamber lest fear of scandal of being discovered bedding a Qunari - whose name he doesn't know, who is busy going through the Hired Thugs until finds one still alive.

"I...Don't have a clue what you mean by 'Did I miss you?' because 1. I don't know who you are and 2. What are you doing?" Dorian replies, watching the Qunari turn their hooded gaze to him before gets up, just after bounding their prisoner in tight ropes so the singled-out Hired Thug cannot escape, walking up to where he stands.

A hand slams beside his head onto the alley brickwall allowing for the hooded cloak to slip off slightly revealing one ash-grey hand covered in snaking ink-black tattoos at the sametime the Qunari presses closer to him it forces him to turn his face to one side to not look at them.

"You have to understand....you felt the sensation didn't you?" The Qunari asks him, referring of course to the feel of a Soul-Thread connecting him to their's making Dorian, blush so heavily it's no doubt showing on his face even in the dim moonlight alongside the promixity of them against his body.

"Vishante kaffas!! I have no idea what your talking about!!!? Now if you'll excuse me....I like to get on....mmfffff!!!?" Dorian begins to say, only for lips to smash into his before he can even protest or cast a spell sending a throbbing wave of something through the forming Soul Thread making him slump against their large body, feeling one hand slide around to embrace him and the other come up to cradle the back of his head.

His fingers twitch heavily, hands spasming before manages to wrench free stumbling down the alleyway to compose himself.

Dorian brings up to his slightly swollen lips a shaking hand - the Qunari had just kissed him!!!? Without even a warning, just did it to him.

Angry at the forcefulness of it he forms a lightening ball in one hand, turning fully around to face the Qunari standing there watching him to send it hurtling towards them choosing not to hang around to check if worked or not. 

His mind beginning to flood with a memory of a masked party, the mysterious large Qunari and everything else that had happened that fateful night as he keeps on running and running through the weaving alleyways and down empty streets passing by houses, shops and market stalls until out of one of the many large city gate's into the wildness of a land unknown to him. 

---------------------------

Notes:

This chapter deals with introducing the characters called Verikas - an elf who doesn't want to be an Inquisitor - and his friend Ku'rac who is a Qunari who in next chapter will soon meet Dorian and Iron Bull

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Part 2 – The Beginning (1 of ?)

Location - The Fade also known as The Beyond - Location of Realm Unknown 

It is an quiet, eerie stillness of without sound which makes Verikas flutter his eyes open, faintly seeing the blurred large figure of his close friend Ku’rac – a Qunari who had become exiled from his people due to disagreements with them – lying close-by then his vision fully clears to reveal he is in the Fade.

Around wispy emerald mist raises in different areas, structures of crumbled elvish ruins float in the air way above - some facing upside down and others dissembling - then hears a pained groan coming from Ku'rac making him get up, stumbling slightly forwards swaying due to experiencing the Fade for the first time trying to remember what happened but all he is getting is fractured memories of group of people talking; a cloaked hooded figure wearing a mask with liliac vines on it and then a explosion of raw, untimed magical energy originating from somewhere.

"Ku'rac....Ku'rac...." Verikas reaching his friend calls out, trying to rouse the Qunari who gives pained groan with both his hands twitching - unclenching and clenching - until flutters his eyes open, gaze soon focusing on him with Ku'rac allowing him to help him to sit up

"Verikas, what.....the Maker just happened?!! Last thing I remember was watching you from the balcony about to state you don't want to be an Inquisitor then nothing afterwards!!" Ku'rac asks him so many questions he cannot give his friend any of the answers to, because even himself doesn't know them.

"I....have faint memory but will have to discuss it later. We need to get out of here." Verikas replies, his keen hearing picking up that they are not alone with him helping Ku'rac to stand up, followed by noticing a bright light in the distance.

Both agree that they should head towards it to investigate what it could be, quickly making their way across crumbling platforms; clambering up floating islands above them and coping with walking upside down or even sideways until finally reach a flight of stone-carved steps.

"Verika, spiders!!!?" Ku'rac calls out to him, pointing to mass of them skittering across over to where they are located he begins to run up the stairs only to trip over a step when a sudden and unexpected sharp, lightening-like pain radiates from his hand through every nerve ending he finds himself giving out a bloodcurdling scream.

His legs give out on him with Ku'rac sweeping in to grab hold to cradle in his large arms, running up the stone-carved steps where the light of the figure waiting seems to enamate outwards that Verikas doesn't remember what happens next.

Just the words 'You'll will live. The both of you' closely followed by blackness.

-----------------------

[unknownmusing]

Notes:

A fic snippet inspired by artwork of Wild Hunt Aen Elle Iorveth by @chamotea

In this fic snippet Iorveth got captured by King Eredin with his memories of his relationship with Vernon erased to form a new identity and person called Ulicuras - The Carved Blade

Deals with memory loss, magic-induced amnesia and Vernon trying to make Iorveth remember.

For @chamotea and @apastandfuturenerd, plus other Ioroche shippers out there.

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Ioroche Wild Hunt Fic Snippet: 'The Carved Blade placed among the Lilies' ---------------------------------------------

PROLOGUE - 'A Lily Captured in the Thorns'

The smell of burning ash and death dissipates when Ulicuras - one of the Wild Hunt called The Carved Blade - rides through the swirling portal on his large mare Nersira - her coat storm-grey and dappled with white like a starfield - noting beside him Imlerith - King Eredin's second-in-command - as managed to capture one of the dh'oine they were hunting, their unconcious body slung over the saddle and the black chaperon their wearing on their head slipping off slightly.

There was something about how they fought he had noticed, it was reminscent of something - but what he couldn't quite grasp it due to the memory of it trickling itself away like sand through one's fingertips.

"Interested in the dh'oine,, are we, Ulicuras?" Imlerith asks him, chuckling lightly when notices Ulicuras, looking down at the unconcious dh'oine placed over his saddle bringing a gauntled hand to haul up the back of their head by the chaperon - briefly showing their bruised and battered face with a cut lip still sluggishly bleeding.

Not replying with an answer, he reaches forwards with his own gauntled hand to tilt the dh'oine's chin up turning it this way and that to analyse every part of their face, hearing soft pained moan of them coming out of unconsciousness reach his ears closely followed by eyelid fluttering open and beautiful brown eyes ringed with flecks of soft-toned gold focusing in on him blearily before widening heavily.

"IORVETH!!?" They panic out, trying to scramble out of the saddle they've been placed over with their hands coming up in desperation to peel off the mask - like somehow they needed to see his face for some unknown reason - that wrenching away, hears them crying out managing to scramble off of Imlerith's saddle with him having ridden further up cursing in rough, course Elvish to swing himself off Nersira's saddle and land on the ground.

The dh'oine coming to halt, trembling heavily in front of him with again trying to reach his mask he slaps them across the face with a gauntled hand hearing them cry out in pained whimpering agony, falling to the ground with a muffled thump where padding over to them grabs hold of the back of their head to wrench it up and place the tip of his curved dagger against the hollow of their fine, umblemished neck.

"My name, dh'oine, is Ulicuras. It would be wise for you to remember for you're forseeable future. Do you understand, Slave?" He hisses out, pressing the tip deeper that bead of blood swells to trickle it's way down the hollow of their throat when they don't answer him then give shaky reply, tears overflowing those beautiful brown eyes with flecks of soft-toned gold to run down their cheeks.

"Good, dh'oine. You're mine, not his…" He harshly whispers in their exposed ear - due to the chaperon they wear having slipped to one side to expose it - before stands up straight, turning to head back to Nersira who waits for him.

Leaving behind him Imlerith to haul the brown-eyed dh'oine up from the ground to take them to the throne-room where King Eredin awaits, trying for some reason in thinking why would his mind show briefly an image of three lilies growing in the middle of a lush meadow being surrounded by thorns that soon cave in on them leaving only one afterwards imprisoned among them.

Acting almost like a prison for the captured lily encased within.

--------------------------------

🐿⚜️

Wild Hunt

Aen Elle Iorveth AU

His helmet design is the one I've been thinking about for the longest time

[unknownmusing]

Hannibal TV series fanstory Collection (1 of ?): The Ravenstag’s Bride' or 'Conjoined in the Thorns that Surround One’s Heart' (Part 1 to 3)(Revised Post)

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Note to:

@hannigramfanfic​, @vintagefloof​, @teddybat24​, @avidreadr2004​, @apastandfuturenerd​, @murasaki69​, @arkarti​, @slashyrogue​ @diemetzgermeisterin

At the moment doing a bit Spring-cleaning one's blog, so certain posts will be reposted ​and also placed in Masterpost while sort out stuff.

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Prologue- PART 1 - “The Ravenstag’s Tale”

No-one knows of how the Ravenstag – half Beast and man – came to be, just they possessed great skill as a Wandering Mage or Ronin Mage as they were called when they travelled to Japan.

They also lived alone in a Hunting Cabin on the outskirts of Baltimore, Maryland in place called Wolf-trap.

This place is almost an alien, hostile place with some areas in it showing only bare skeletal trees during Winter, while in Autumn the all area is covered in autumnal leaves red; orange; soft lilac and golden-yellow and yet, it is what the Ravenstag Mage calls home.

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Hannibal’s P.O.V:

I can’t remember anything.

Only my name is Hannibal and that is all, while fractured memories haunt me every-time I sleep at night with the leather collar around my throat attached to a chain that clinks with every movement I make.

The chain is attached to nothing else. Not even a rung. Scientists have tried every form of magic to try and get rid of it along with the leather collar off my throat, but in vain.

It seems an Ancient powerful spell had been cast on it and that spell could not be unbroken even by the Mages, who worked in the Maurier’s Auction House. The owner being course a Lady Bedelia Du Maurier, who for some unknown reason hated me more the other “objects” waiting to be sold at her Auction.

The slamming of double doors in the far distance makes me stiffen when I hear it, followed by finally the curtain covering the large birdcage I’m within is pulled back by a white gloved hand, making me flick my gaze upwards to look up into black eyes that seem to have field of stars in them, while a thicket of antlers towers above their head.

They have a face of stag, with raven feathers spreading downwards to disappear under the long billowing roves of black with Sweet Williams stitched onto the hems, edges and sleeves. 

Around their throat is a a tie-pin of a liliac with beads and feathers attached, while their white gloved hand reaches through the bars of the large bird-cage to tilt my chin upwards so they can look at my face at the sametime the thicket of antlers above their head begin to grow and spread outwards - like rose thorns seeking new ground and choking everything that is in it’s way - onto the large bird-cage. 

The thickets of antlers winding around the bars like vines do when looking for something to anchor them on, until starting to tighten heavily around them that it happens instantly - a shattering tinkling noise, followed by the bird-cage dissolving into silvery dust, which in slow-motion begins to fall to the floor.

Still kneeling, I feel something falling over me to wrap around my naked body at the sametime something like a lace-veil falls across my face making it feel strangely like I had become.....this strange Ravenstag’s......Bride

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PART 2 - 'Becoming the Ravenstag's Bride' - (Part 1 of 2)

Dappled sunlight filters through the gaps in the trees that grow on the banks of a stream winding it’s way through an undisturbed woodland with the occasional birdsong coming from some of them, while a flash of light blue, orange and white indicates a Kingfisher that been waiting on branch for it’s opportunity spots it’s prey.

It’s a place I don’t recognise, yet everything around me feels so familiar.

Like I had been to the place at some point.

But why couldn’t I remember?

A shadow blocking out the light, makes me flick my gaze up seeing a person with a face that is clouded to me – a blank slate wiped clean – and when they speak their speech comes out disembodied.

“Is SoMeThInG wRoNg, HaNnIbAl?”

Bringing my hand up, I go to touch them only for my hand never to reach as my vision starts to fade in and out of focus – making the image waver in front of me of the mysterious person with the blank face, the stream and behind them…a blurry image of a stag or doe I couldn’t tell.

Soon everything fades away, leaving nothing but footsteps fleeing into silence.

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Fluttering my eyes open, I see a blurry image of attic roof-beams above me - the faint polished whorls gleaming in the sunlight filtering through a gap in the curtains - until finally my vision clears to reveal where I am.

It seems to be an attic bedroom with a chest of drawers close to the bed; a writing bureau with the necessary equipment to write letters, notes and other stuff; on the windowsill are collected herbs and flowers in ornate vase with silvery fish going around it to spread upwards to the rim. 

Sitting up, I can still feel the leather collar with the chain attached to it is still around my neck, meaning the Ravenstag - the strange, mysterious creature - had yet to find some way to take it off and turn my gaze to look out the window, when I hear the faint barking of dogs. 

Seeing down below, walking out of the forest surrounding the Hunting Cabin - which was their Home - with a group of dogs following close behind is the Ravenstag, the wind that is blowing causing their robes to billow slightly and ruffle the black ink-like raven feathers in such a way it reminds of something.

Something that I cannot quite grasp - a distant memory, that seems to be getting further away when I try to reach for it - until suddenly sharp shoots through my temples so intense it feels like I'm stabbed by needles.

Placing my head in my hands, unknown voices start to overwhelm - speaking words I can't make sense of - and faces of people I don't remember appearing around me as wispy-like ghosts as unknown memories comes to forefront of my mind.

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"Hannibal, your acting strange. What's wrong?!!!"

A face of someone - a female - but I can't see their face because it has become blank - like someone had wiped the features off - as I stand in unknown kitchen with food prepped out in front of me on a polished marble kitchen counter, while in the background some type of music faintly plays.

I go to reply, but whoever she is she dissolves away like ink spreading out into water to allow another memory to form revealing it is night-time in some kind of office, with the long curtains on tall glass windows closed and behind a fire gently crackles in a hearth of a fireplace.

A male this time, instead of a female is sitting next to me holding a tumbler of Scotch observing the amber trapped within it even though I couldn’t see their face – a blank slate in place again.

“I been so preoccupied with taking a life, I’m having trouble wrapping my head making one.”

The strange male states, referring to something I can’t remember and wonder what the basis for this conservation.

What had made them say these words to me?

“When men become fathers, they undergo biochemical changes that affect the way they think.” I hear myself saying to them, making wonder had at some point this unknown male – who was part of my past – had been a father.

“You said the same thing happens when men become killers.” They state to me, implying I was some kind of killer that had done something to harm – but what?

“Fatherhood is not always a nurturing role. Fathers can be killers. I protecting a child, things trapped inside a man for years fly free ready to explode in pain. And dangerous behaviour.” I tell them, hearing a distant scream of young girl, a thud of axe and the coppery smell of blood until it fades away.

“What sort of father would you be?”

Seeing from their body language they are thinking about the question I have asked them and find myself imagining a life where both of us are raising a child between us – where there is no murder happening; no disturbances from people who could ruin our lives and just enjoying a simple life.

“I would be a good father.”

They tell me, making me smile warmly at this – even though I don’t the reason why at this time in this memory why had it made me smile – knowing they would be a good Father to a child.

“Do you see a life before your eyes that’s not your own?” I ask them, continuing the conservation between myself and this strange, mysterious male needing to see if I can get any more information about who they were out of this memory I’m experiencing.

“Yes.”

“How quickly we form attachments to something that does not yet exist.”

The conservation seems go downhill with heavy emotions of loss, pain and heart-ache overwhelming even when I say the words, after they have mentioned a young female named Abigail – but the way there talking about her indicates that something had happened to her.

“I’m sorry I took that from you. I wish I could give it back.” I choke out, my voice breaking with hidden emotion and can sense their gaze on me, even though I cannot see their face.

Why couldn’t I see their face?

Who were they?

What connection did they have with me?

“So do I.”

Their body indicating that what I have said has affected them heavily, while I find myself referencing a teacup seeing distantly in my mind’s eye a teacup falling out of soft, delicate hands to shatter onto the polished floor into million tiny pieces.

“Occasionally, on purpose, I drop a teacup to shatter on the floor.” I start saying, lifting up my own tumbler to take a sip of the Scotch to wet my lips then continue.

“I’m not satisfied when it doesn’t gather itself up again. Someday perhaps a cup will come together.”

They seem to consider my words, while I find myself going to reach my hand towards their cheek to wipe the tear running down it with my thumb when they suddenly slap my hand away hard shouting at me unexpectly.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!!!? HOW…. COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, HANNIBAL!!!?? HOW…...could you do this!!!?”

Do what?

Tell me what I’ve done.

Why can’t I remember who you are?

The sudden appearance of white gloved hands coming out of the shadows startles me, while hearing the Ravenstag’s voice whispering “Begone” followed by un-intelligible language I can’t understand wrapping around me. 

In my mind’s eye, I’m floating in an empty space as black ink-like shadows writhe and pulsate around me, until suddenly lunging at me - nearly reaching me - only for thorns to shoot upwards to embrace me in a thorn-like cocoon.

The black ink-like shadows begin to screech with such noise and clarity, I find myself placing my hands over my ears when another sound pierces the space making me lower my hands to see the Ravenstag sitting closely to me.

In their white gloved hands is a flute of dark heartwood with tussles attached on the end, followed a ring on their finger glinting slightly it makes me reach out for it. 

Only for my fingers to briefly brush it, when underneath me suddenly the thorn-like cocoon gapes open like a giant maw to allow me to fall through and downwards into an inky black mass, seeing the sight of the Ravenstag getting dimmer and dimmer until finally I hit the waters of a large crimson lake.

Crimson water goes splashing upwards, causing large ripples to spread outwards to soon dissipate, while can feel my strength is draining fast and strange weakness is setting within in every part of my body. 

The crimson waters surrounding me, begin to close in pulling me under the blood-red embrace of the lake and underneath the waters where I slowly begin to descend, seeing swimming above me is the Ravenstag in circles - following me down - with a long sleek tail with spreading fins glittering in the faint light streaming down into the abyss I’m slowly descending down into.        

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A keening wail that neither sounds human or animal escapes me, when I scramble out the bed - sending the covers onto the floor, along with a glass of water that been placed on the bedside table to soon shatter instantly as I find myself stumbling forwards looking around with wide eyes, heart pounding against my rib-cage and strange whimpers escaping me when I see nothing but whiteness all around me.

This makes white-gloved hands take hold of me - one wrapping around my waist and the other covering my eyes to block out the light - feeling hot breath against my cheek, while the Ravenstag places their lips close to my ear.

“Calm yourself, Hannibal.” They whisper to me, lowering their hand from my eyes to reveal my vision has returned to normal and yet, during my panic it seems somehow I caused crystallised flowers to form around us both.

The air feels colder - like all the warmth has been sucked out of it - and there is slight scent of what smells like freshly spilled blood, decay and death before it disappears, leaving me to slump against the Ravenstag when an unexpected weakness comes over me.

“What happened to me?!!!” I pant out, needing an answer to how the strange black crystallised flowers had formed and why, hearing them sigh softly like it is difficult question to answer.

“You are what Mages in the Mage Society call a Sleigh Beggy....” They tell me, noticing how I flick my gaze up to them when they mention “Sleigh Beggy” and continue to speak, answering my unanswered in question in what did that word mean. “It means you use the magic that is around you, but at great cost as it drains you of your natural resources and can in some cases untimely lead to death.”

Turning fully to face them, I look up into the soulful black eyes - which seem to show a mass of swirling stars and galaxies in them - finding myself, bringing both hands up to cup their cheeks, where I feel the feathers are soft as silk under my fingers when I sift my hands softly through them.

“Why did you buy me?” I ask them, even though I don’t remember them purchasing me from Lady Du Maurier’s Auction House, bringing me to wherever this place was and for what reason yet to be explained.

“Because I see potentinal in you, Hannibal.” 

“Potentinal for what?”

“For becoming.....my Bride.”

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PART 3 - 'Learning What it is like to Become the Ravenstag's Bride' - (Part 2 of 2)

------------------------- Notes:

Poem used - Caged Bird BY MAYA ANGELOU

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A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky

But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom

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Hannibal’s P.O.V:

“Potential for what?”

“For becoming.....my Bride.”

Those words echo and re-echo in my head, followed by an unexpected blush raising on my cheeks at the prospect of becoming this strange, mysterious creature’s Bride.

“Hmm, I think you need a warm bath. It will help you to relax and ease the tension, that you are feeling before we get with today’s tasks.” The Ravenstag says, starting to peel off the night-shirt that I don’t remember being dressed in and find myself protesting heavily that don’t need their help to bathe.

They lead me out of the bedchamber, down the hallway to where the bathroom is. Seeing within a bath has already been prepared with steam wisping upwards in the air, while they test the water with their hand to check the temperature then turn to look at me, standing there.

My arms wrapped around myself, face turned away to hide the embarrassment showing on my cheeks and just wishing they leave so I can bathe alone to think about the information I’ve been told and collect my thoughts.

“The water is warm enough for you to get in.” They say, satisfied that the temperature of the water is just right and turning slightly indicate I should get in before the water becomes cold.

“Can I have some privacy? I just need some time alone with my thoughts.” I ask them, making them step closer to me to gently turn my chin so they can see my face and don’t expect a gentle touch of their lips on my forehead, until after the Ravenstag has brushed past me with night-shirt over their arm  I realise what they just done.

“Come out when your finished.” They quietly say, before closing the bathroom door to give me privacy.

Now alone, I find myself relaxing in the warmed water feeling it relieve the tension until I’m resting back against the tub, with my head resting on the towel folded over the bathtub rim. The herbs that are mixed with the water, have sweet smells that I know helped one to feel calm and peaceful, I recognise as lavender, rose, eucalyptus and comfrey.

Lying my head to one side on the towel, I move back and forth through the water close to my left thigh which bears down near the ankle a crescent-shaped scar I can't remember how I got along with one close to my abdomen and one under my chin.

Where had I gotten these scars and how may I had required them never bed answered because the answers I might not to be able to find?

"If you ever want to cast away your life, why don't you try to entrust yourself to 'Someone' that desires 'you' ?

A strange, whispering voice from my unknown past whispers, with another memory forming through the haze of smoke wreathing off the hot water of the bathtub of another office, while in the sitting in a leather seat is tall woman - however instead of their face being blank, a Venetian mask of golden colour, with peacock feathers on it covers their face keeping what they look underneath it hidden.

"Why do you say that?" I hear my unknown Past-self asking them, one leg crossing over the other it makes the Masked Woman get calmly up from her seat to head over to the drink decanter to where she calmly pours herself a drink and another one which is no doubt had been for my Past-self.

"Because of your interests, Hannibal. I've noticed you have a new patient visiting you."  the Masked Woman says, making me wonder who had this new patient been and where they connected to why I couldn't remember my Past.

The conservation soon dissolves into an unintelligible discussion, while all I can get out of it is "diagnosed with auto-immune encephalitis."  or "having problems with something...." and the name "Wolftrap"

It's just as I'm trying to make sense of it, that little voices interrupt my thoughts making me see through the open bathroom window strange creatures with gossamer feathers on their shoulders; kneecaps and clawed talon feet, while they have on their forehead's fine antenna to help sense their surroundings.

"Oh.....look....I thought I smelled an interesting scent."

"A Sleigh...Beggy..."

"Wonder why the Ravenstag  chose them?"

The three strange creatures fly closer, wings making soft humming noises and amongst themselves start talking in their unknown language that I can't yet make sense of. But can tell by their body language their discussing about my scars I bear; why had the Ravenstag chosen me and for what purpose.

They flitter around, soft gossamer wings brushing against my skin and finally coming back around to look at my face, making me wrap my arms around myself feeling conscious of their gaze. There was something about it that made it unnerving, like they could easily lead you astray and not care about the outcome that happens whatever it involves.

"Hannibal, are you finished?"  the Ravenstag asks, behind the glass screen of the bathroom door, it startles me because I had not heard them approaching the bathroom.

Panicking, I go to clamber out the bathtub when they turn the handle to step inside and that causes the little strange creatures to lunge at me for no apparent reason.

Their talons swipe at me, some managing to draw blood with guttural hisses escaping from them and manage to get out the way, feeling the white gloved hands take hold of me. Before I can say or protest, I'm whirled out of the bathroom, seeing the sight of the Ravenstag stepping within. One of their white gloved hands, closing the door silently behind them - robes billowing up to fall back down - then I collapse against the wall, sliding slowly down it onto the floor.

The hallway is silent, except for my short laboured gasps and the sensation of blood from where I had been scratched trickling down in small rivulets - like a stream. So many thoughts are running through my head, I immediately flinch heavily when a sudden "thunk"  on the glass of the bathroom door, seeing a black substance has splattered onto it and using the wall for support, get up off the floor.

Approaching the bathroom door, I push it open noticing everything within has changed: a carpet of moss with wildflower has formed, there is the distant sound of a stream coming from someone along with the feeling that there is something alive in the air. Continuing to walk forwards, I notice the sliding bamboo screen-door is half-open and lying close to it is one of those winged creatures that had attacked me - throat slit to allow for a major gush of blood to have come out, making it's death instantaneous - finding that it doesn't shock me at the sight of it.

Placing a hand on it, I slide it open to reveal within something that makes me step within - an unknown urge to do it.

The bamboo screen-door soon sliding shut behind me.

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[unknownmusing]

The Witcher Fanstory - Geralt/Regis Fic: 'The Witcher's Bane'

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Summary:

After a Contract goes heavily wrong, Geralt of Rivia - the Witcher known also as the White Wolf - is left for dead where is discovered by his long-term friend Regis, who realises he must do something which no Higher Vampire must do - turn a person into one of their own kind.

Months later,after the events of the failed contract, Geralt with no memory of the failed Contract is summoned to Beauclair, Toussaint by the Duchess Anna Henrietta to solve a series of grisly murders being done by a mysterious beast.

However things become complicated when Geralt begins to find himself experiencing strange flashbacks of a Contract he doesn't remember ever doing, a strange person tending to him and feeling they mean something to him.

Will Geralt find out answers in Toussaint? Who is the mysterious person that tended to him? And what is their connection with the Beast, himself and the grisly murders happening?

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Notes:

Flashback in italics

Contract goes wrong for Geralt leaving him heavily injured and near-death

Involves the Bruxa moment from the Witcher game trailer 'A Night to Remember'

Pictures sourced from Gwent Wiki and other various sources

 Fanvid which one created to connect to this fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KljvuEXiyWU

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Prologue - 'The Night of when Silver met Fangs' (1 of 2)

Location - Outskirts of White Orchard, Temeria - East of Vizima - Abandoned Farmstead - Late Evening

A vague Contract, half of the writing washed off by the rain or intentionally left out by whoever had written it hangs limply on the Notice Board. 

Taking it down, the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia -  swung himself up into Roach's saddle feeling the glares of the villagers and hearing the snide whispers and occasional spitting on the ground coming from them when he makes his way out of White Orchard to the outskirts.

To them he is just a 'mutant' or 'freak' nothing more, nothing less.

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Wolves asleep amidst the trees Bats all a swaying in the breeze But one soul lies anxious wide awake Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths....

A lullaby is being sung.

Golden cat-like eyes watch from the shadows as the solitary female makes her way to the shoreline of a large lake - it's waters glistening in the moonlight - nearby a abandoned farmstead, where she bends down picking up a small doll - one a child might play with - still continuing to sing.

For your dolly Polly sleep has flown Don't dare let her tremble alone For the witcher, heartless, cold Paid in coin of gold He comes he'll go leave naught behind But heartache and woe Deep, deep woe.....

Stepping out of the shadows, Geralt, waits until the female fully turns herself around to face him with her hands still clutching the child's doll tightly. 

His wolf medallion vibrating on his chest, indicating she is not human after all, when she steps slightly closer to him - keeping though a certain distance. 

Both of them know the reason why - the unaswered question hanging between the space between them, waiting to come down on the Prey being hunted by the Predator, like an executioner's axe severing the neck of a traitor. 

Have you come to kill me, Witcher?"

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[unknownmusing]

The Witcher Fanstory Collection - Masterpost

Ioroche Fic: 'Will Always be there to Save One no Matter What Happens' - (Part 1 of ?)

Ioroche Fic: ‘When Something Between Two People Becomes Something More' (Revised Version)- (Parts 1 to 4)

Ioroche Fic: 'Fate Never Comes by Accident' - (Part 1 of ?)

Ioroche fic snippet: 'Mates for Life' or 'I'm Your's and You are Mine' - (Part 1 of ?)

Yaevinn/Kolgrim fic snippet - 'The Iron Wolf and the Viper's Tale' - (Part 1 of ?)

Mirror-Verse AU -‘Meeting Ones from the Other Side of the Mirror’ 

The Witcher/Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion Fic: 'The Gem of the Ocean'

Ciaran/Ves fic snippet - 'Sharing Warmth' - (Part 1 of ?)

Geralt/Regis Fic: 'The Witcher's Bane

Ioroche Wild Hunt Fic Snippet (1 of 2 versions of Wild Hunt AU): First one - 'The Carved Blade placed among the Lilies' and Second one untitled at the moment

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Notes:

A masterpost of all Witcher fics which have written up on tumblr posts, while list will be updated with new fic snippets and fics links when placed them into posts

Various Ships e.g. Ciaran/Ves; Yaevinn/Kolgrim; Ioroche; Sigismund Dijkstra/Isengrim; Jaskier/Geralt; Letho/Geralt; Emhyr/Geralt/Genderfluid character; Eskel/my OC *Orunis and more to come as write more fics and fic snippets (*Orunis image created using this website - https://storior.com/)

Other pictures sourced from various sources to represent ships that write about, with top picture just to indicate that Witcher fics are like tales being told.

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