Karlach gripped the hilt of her battleaxe, blood, sweat, and grime dripping down her forehead. She was the last member of the party up, and she would not let her friends die like this. She’s surrounded on all sides by duergar mercenaries; the lava of the main hall of the Grymforge glows hot, but she must persevere. Her wonderful, usually level-headed, quick-whitted leader Tav had strode into the Grymforge with a fire in his eyes, spitting venom at True Soul Nere. Karlach, despite the trouble Tav had put them in, couldn't help but sympathize a little. She didn’t care very much for slave keepers, either.
Besides, Tav seemed to have realized his mistake as soon as the battle began, burning through his most powerful spells in an effort to end the fight quickly, but his efforts were in vain. As soon as he started to do real damage, he’d been chased down and cornered, going down and requiring Shadowheart’s help, who was similarly cornered and followed Tav soon after. It had just been Karlach and Astarion against the world for most of the fight, but a duergar had gotten a lucky hit on him, sending Astarion to his knees, then to the floor, dizzy and weak. Now, it was just Karlach, and she would not fail. No one was going to die today, not on her watch.
By some miracle, Karlach dodged the first hit the mercenaries tried to lay on her, then the second, the third, the fourth, dodging arrows and resisting the biting sting of poison and fire and mind games just enough to down another greater potion of healing and keep going. The power of her rage coursed through her, spurred on by the enemies surrounding her, gripping her exterminator’s axe and swinging. She manages to cut through the two duergars standing right in front of her, making just enough space for Karlach to rush forward to help Astarion up.
“This is no place to die, friend,” she says, taking Astarion’s hand and hoisting him up before quickly letting go so he doesn’t burn. He stumbles but manages to stand, breathing heavily.
“I am already dead,” Astarion snarks, immediately latching onto the third duergar at Karlach’s side, draining him of blood.
Together, they hunt down the duergar crossbow-wielders and novices of the Absolute, finally clearing the room. As soon as they confirm that everyone is dead, Karlach and Astarion rush over to Tav and Shadowheart, helping their fallen teammates up. Shadowheart takes to the assistance well, stumbling to her feet but steadily regaining her strength. Tav, on the other hand, is far from it. His wound had been spilling blood onto the stone floors of the main hall for at least half the battle. Even Astarion had looked at the quantity in shock and disgust, which is what had really worried Karlach. It seems Tav’s wounds were too great for a couple of health potions to fix, but it wasn’t like they had them anyway. Karlach had downed practically all of them during the fight. Shadowheart had expelled all she had trying to keep Tav stable throughout the fight, too, so they couldn’t turn to her magic for assistance, either.
“We need to head to camp,” Karlach says, kneeling down to Tav and gently turning him over. Shadowheart cast her last spell on Tav to keep him steady until they reached their little hideaway. Since Tav was far too weak to walk himself and everyone was in bad shape, Shadowheart and Astarion helped gather spare cloth and padding to protect Tav from the heat of Karlach’s skin so she could carry him.
“Up you go, soldier.”
Karlach hoists Tav up, her (metaphorical, mind you) heart clenching at the sharp his and grunt of pain he lets out. “Don’t worry, I got you,” she says. And she does. Her arm wraps tightly around Tav, keeping him up as he clutches at his wound. He mumbled something incoherent about taking Nere’s head in between apologies, and Karlach rolled her eyes but passed Tav over to Astarion anyway.
The walk to camp felt like it stretched on for an eternity, but soon enough, they could set Tav down onto his bedroll and address his wounds. When he caught wind of the situation, Halsin stepped in to care for everything, insisting that everyone leave the issue to him and replenish their strength. It hadn’t taken much convincing for Shadowheart to crawl into bed, leaving Karlach and Astarion alone. They both sat with their backs against some rubble in front of the fire (which was a bit redundant now, with all of the lava around, but no one had said anything yet), eyes trained on their fallen comrades. After the goblin camp, Karlach had been a little worried about the Grymforge turning hostile. Maybe Astarion had the same concerns. Astarion had raided the camp chest, pulling out a strong drink and sipping it. He’d offered one to Karlach, and while she had declined, the offer had opened up the path to some conversation between them.
“I can’t believe the guy still had it in him to take Nere’s head,” Karlach laughed.
“You seemed all too ready to chop it off for him, though,” Astarion counters, swirling his drink around and taking a sip.
“What can I say? Not too fond of powerful people who kidnap and abuse people who are weaker than them. Plus, we worked for it.” Karlach grins, but her statement seems to hit a chord with Astarion. He doesn’t say anything, so she doesn’t ask. Turns out it's a sore spot for all three of them, apparently.
“Still,” Astarion says, adjusting himself and getting them back on track. “The stunt he pulled today was reckless and impulsive.”
“At least he said he was sorry,” Karlach meekly offers on Tav’s behalf. Astarion is unimpressed.
“That doesn’t change a thing.” Astarion crosses his arms, almost like he’s pouting.
“You like him,” Karlach says matter-of-factly.
“Sure I do,” Astarion says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “You like him.”
“I sure do,” Karlach grins. If Astarion wanted to deflect, she wouldn’t let it phase her. With anyone else, she’d be a little embarrassed and maybe feel a little heat on her cheeks, but the back-and-forth with Astarion is surprisingly… fun. “He likes you, though.”
“He likes you, too.”
“Not the way he likes you.”
Astarion grimaces.
“Oh, come on!” Karlach laughs, her infernal engine glowing warmly. “He practically runs up to you every morning with stars in his eyes. I think if he weren’t the leader, he’d follow you around like a lost puppy. Plus, you guys aren’t exactly quiet when you get it on.”
“Like you two are any better.” Astarion rolls his eyes again, kissing his teeth and taking another sip of his drink. “Well, he seems to have eyes for that new druid, too. Maybe our little friend just likes sleeping around.”
Karlach hums, scrunching up her face. “I don’t think so…” There was no denying that Tav certainly enjoyed the physical aspects of his relationships with particular party members. It would be easy to assume that’s all he wants. Still, the look he’d given Karlach when he promised to spend a night with her at the refugee party or how he continued to talk to her, back her up, and bend over backward to help her with her engine with no promise of physicality makes her think otherwise. “I think he’s just got a lot of love to share.”
“That is dreadfully corny.”
Karlach shrugs, grinning. “I do what I can.”
They fall into silence, both of their eyes landing on a sleeping Tav once more. He’d be fine in the morning; Karlach was sure of it. Slowly, her eyes slide over to Astarion. He’s dirty, bloody, and has heavy bags under his eyes. He definitely looks like he’s seen better days. Karlach is sure she doesn’t look any better, but he went down today, not her.
“You should get some rest. You quite quite the beating today.”
Astarion scoffs. “Elves don’t sleep, darling, especially not vampiric ones. I’ll be fine. If anyone, you should be sleeping. I’ll keep watch.”
“What? And let you sink your fangs into me? No way.”
“Oh, please. You’d burn me to a crisp. Besides…” Astarion flashes her a sharp smile, his fangs glinting in the firelight. His mouth is still a little bloody. “I’ve already eaten today.”
Karlach rolls her eyes. “Damn right, I would.”
They share a laugh before Karlach hoists himself up with a groan. The soreness was already settling in. She was in for it come daybreak. She lingers for a moment, letting the conversation she just shared with Astarion linger in her mind. She turns back to him, Astarion already looking up at her expectantly. He really had a way of reading people. Playing people.
“You be good to him, will you?”
“Who? Tav?” Astarion smiles, his eyes twinkling. “I promise to take good care of him-”
“I’m serious, Astarion,” Karlach says, letting her voice settle into something lower. She turns to face Asterion. At her sides, her hands clench into fists. “I know good people. You’re not good people. Be good to him, or it’ll be very bad for you.”
Astarion gives her a look that lets Karlash know she’s stumbled into dangerous territory. He opens his mouth to say something but seems to pause and think about it. He closes his mouth with the click of his teeth, sneering.
“I see no benefit in sprouting tentacles and becoming another monster. If I wanted to do something truly stupid, I’d start with hurting your precious little leader. Happy?”
Karlach squints at Asterion, but his expression gives very little to go off of. “Sure,” she says. “Goodnight, Astarion. See you in the morning.”
“Yes, see you,” Asterion retorts. He waits until Karlach’s back is fully toward him before downing the rest of his drink, throwing the empty bottle over one of the many stupid edges in this stupid camp. It probably rolled off into the lava below, but he didn’t care much. After another moment, he readjusted himself and settles in for the night, keeping his eyes trained on Tav. Just in case.
