Toppling from Cauldron to Blaze

[closeyourfist]

Orin's stone has been obtained.

Enver Gortash is just coming into the floor of his office when the voice touches his mind. Familiar, though heavier. Closer. Like breath he can feel on the back of his neck.

Anticipation. He feels it himself, the sudden rush and thrill of the dawning thought that there were no steps but the last at this point. Soon the Dark Urge and the rest of the rogue True Souls would return and they would journey to the Underground to finish this. The Elder Brain would at least be back under heel.

The Absolute Plot, at last, would move confidently forward.

His men from the temple stand at the ready for orders. Better to get them posted in the city, just as soon as it was certain it was time.

There is no remaining trace of Bhaal's living flesh.

The Archduke halts mid-step.

Bane does not speak needlessly or without thought. His Chosen knows to heed his words and their clear intent.

Hear me. This changes nothing. The plan continues with or without Myrkul and Bhaal's hands to help guide it.

And he feels something like a hand closing around his mind. Not enough to hurt, but a clear sign it could. A warning reminder.

He responds immediately, with no waver in his voice because that is what that silent command requires. "This changes nothing." The Dark Urge is dead. And he feels the band around his chest tighten. He draws in a resolute breath. Because he will take in air. He will not show what presence in his mind and in the very air around him does not want to see. "The plan continues."

He was always going to be gone. Cruel to have deluded himself into thinking otherwise.

Feel that, and be done. There is more to do, imminently.

The disciples go about their duties at his back as he continues to cross the chamber. He doesn't notice when they actually fall. Neither of them do.

When they bring the stones, take them or bring the rogues along. It is time to assume your rightful place.

And that voice bleeds into every tendril of sensation, washing over those places that hurt like something caustic, refusing to soothe but unwilling to be what is chased away. Bane feels more present, like a firm hand on his shoulder. A presence in the doorway of his mind.

Prepared to see the end.

Reminding him, perhaps, that he rules alone today. As he should. But he never was, truly.

Footsteps bring him toward the back of the chamber. Some of the traps arm themselves.

He doesn't notice them immediately switch off.

The Black Hand is telling Enver now, because what would have happened if those people came to him and he knew only then that the battle with Orin had cut their numbers down? Rude. An attempt to compromise him. But he is prepared.

Feel what you must now. Then never again. You promised yourself this once already.

He doesn't realize until it's too late that the person he senses nearing him is not, in fact, one of his footmen.

Black. The feeling of fingers that were bearing down bleedingly hard, pried away.

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[closeyourfist]

There is a small measure of heat that rises to his features then. Not just at being told how it sounds for him to repeat the name, but also that his mind readily supplies It probably won't be the last time I enjoy saying it either.

But the Dark Urge -- Kael -- says his name, and it strikes him once more how it fees to hear his own name, to hear him say it. Something he's been homesick for, if he would have ever thought to use the word. But he's never missed anything like this.

His breath and his bloodflow are quickening even as the larger man does nothing more than touch the back of his neck. And of course he allows that kiss (he had promised him one after all this was done after all). More than allows it, pushes up to meet it with the abandon and jolting panic of suddenly feeling yourself fall.

It is as the one before, and all those that felt like they were an eternity ago, and they are his. Perfect, sating, and pulling long-dreamed-of-but-suppressed hungers to the surface. But unlike the ones when they were different people: No longer in the privacy of his office. Somewhere open. In the air. Still private in its own way, but free.

He slips a band behind Kael's neck in a mirror of his own gesture.

[unspooling]

Arms shifting until they're encircling Enver both fondly and protectively, Kael pours what feels like a far broader range of emotion into their shared kiss. Even the small bank of memories he has of their time together is enough for him to contend with the fact that, before the great betrayal, his world was shades of red and not much more.

Having spent long enough away from the cult, from Bhaal and his memories of being bhaalspawn, it had allowed a far greater number of colours into his awareness. Gratitude feels brand new in a way that he doesn't recall before.

So his mouth is soft against Enver's. Pliant in a way it may not have been before, and as careful and considered as he is, the kiss itself is filled with a yawning kind of desperation. He doesn't want to ask to never be apart again, that doesn't feel right either. But he can feel himself growing more as a person with this new development. That all this time he had been - and still is - in love.

When they break for air his eyes are heavily lidded, a reliable kind of comfort gently coaxing him into a place of almost boneless contentedness. Perhaps before it would have been the heat of arousal that rose up to greet them both viciously. For now, he's happy enough just existing in each other's spaces.

"I do not know what the future holds, but I find myself more eager to find out than anytime I can recall."

[closeyourfist]

Enver feels something in the other man grasping on, a need, but not necessarily the same force behind it, and even after all this time, he can feel that and adjust accordingly, matching that energy without overwhelming. Before long in their meetings, rather than take that as a signal to be analyzed, to suss out potential and meaning, he would have received it as a need to find an openly to quietly question. To keep them both upright.

It was never allowed to be just a moment to be still, to unfasten the tighter strings they kept on their behaviors. Not without the context of the bedroom, anyhow. Not without being especially careful. Not without keeping it brief and then rectified.

That constraint is...gone.

"At the moment, I'm not certain I care." For anyone else that would seem dismissive. But all Enver Gortash does is worry about what is coming next and whether every step has been covered, carefully mapped, a good deal of time in advance. "...I never thought I would feel that way. But if you're here, I'm not sure it matters."

Dawn will come and with it clarity, he's sure. It will matter again in some form.

A small, quiet laugh, more at himself than anything. "You spend so much time thinking of all the things you were never able to say, what you would if you had the chance and I've lost so much in the recent -- just not having enough time to try, and now I feel like I've gone blank. Where the Hells does one even begin?"

[unspooling]

"There is no need for you to find words," comes a quiet but firm promise, and in the moment Kael feels almost dizzy from their newfound reality. It is overwhelming, positive but an incredible amount to think of when all that has just passed is barely concluded.

In the end, he rests his hands at the smaller man's shoulders, thumbs gently stroking at the sides of his neck. The flash of memory he finds is of the feeling he could as easily slide his hands around Enver's neck and squeeze the life from him. But rather than an urge, it is just a memory. A disturbing one, but not a compulsion. He shakes his head, the movement possibly coming across as a bid to keep himself awake.

"We can begin by seeing to what we need. It feels as though sleep has been harder to find lately. And now I can think of nothing else but to retire to a bedroll with you and hold you until it takes both of us."

His gaze tracks sideways, his eyes settling on the tent big enough for the both of them. He can no longer think in ways that make a lot of sense, his mind newly burnt of the tadpole that had been in residence for so long exhausted. He certainly doesn't recall that sleep wasn't something he used to do.

"Rest with me?"

[closeyourfist]

"...Yes."

It feels like the second that he is reminded that he must be tired, his body finally recognizes how much it as been through in the last day. Even if it is technically a new body, his mind and memory was strong enough to carry the exhaustion he was already saddled with into it, compounded with the stress that was coming back from death and nearly dying again while running and fighting nonstop for what felt like hours.

And it is only as they make their way in that direction that the less-important details finally begin to come through. Amid memories of a similar quiet night they spent, with the Dark Urge gently ushering him to bed. There is now also where they are. He hasn't slept on a bedroll since he was a teenager. Even when he was traveling before, there were inns. Cots.

And then, "...Do you sleep?" A slow blink as he looks down at his hands. "Do I, now?" What a strange question to find himself asking, but he feels heavy as he thinks that there was no way that trancing was going to have any sort of impact.

[unspooling]

"Yes... I sleep," Kael replies slowly, his hand guided the other man towards the tent as though he hasn't yet put two and two together. He cannot blame either of them for wanting nothing more than to crash and burn into some soft fabrics for the next few hours.

Eventually his brain offers a last ditch attempt at thought processing as he pulls the tent flap aside. Waiting for Enver to retire inside, he thinks through the question.

"Did I not used to?" He asks as he's eventually following the human into the tent, careful not to bump into him even in this low light. It occurs to him afterwards that this must be new for Enver, being able to see this well without much in the way of light to see by.

[closeyourfist]

It is...something else entirely. But oddly helps, all things considered. It makes a new place, a new concept, a lot easier to settle into when there is nothing really hidden. He's already dressed down, just in a single layer that's clean and simple and made him feel like a person again once they got here. Even if he avoided looking at himself as much as possible.

For a moment he considers whether there should be less but his fingers stop. Still uncertain how he appears, really, and not wanting to think about that right now.

"I'm not certain; you really only stayed with me once, and you may very well have been awake the whole night." His head tilts as he watches him, curious. It seems like a lot right now, to ask if he remembers.

[unspooling]

It seems Kael takes that piece of information on board but doesn't concern himself with it too much. Whether or not he used to sleep or - what he guesses could have been the case - trance, it isn't for now to understand what may have been. What he knows now is that he definitely does sleep, and though there have been more than a few times in the past he might worry about that, the tiredness is so consuming he can barely imagine how he would do anything untoward in his unconsciousness.

The thought still occurs regardless and for a moment he looks slightly perturbed before forcing himself to move on. What happened with Alfira had been while he'd been filled up with Bhaal's unholy blood. He doesn't feel the same now, but his thoughts do still plague him in ways that are disturbing.

"Tomorrow perhaps you can tell me what you remember?" He's taking up a lot of space in the tent though he crams himself right up at one edge to give Enver as much leftover space as possible. He's too tired to think on much more than just getting comfortable and surrendering to sleep.

[closeyourfist]

"Gladly." It is half murmured.

Getting settled becomes a series of tasks, just sort of blindly followed with little thought behind it, which is in itself almost comforting. The space is limited, but the man with him might be overthinking it, as much as one can when they are half awake. It's not unusual that he thinks this way: he is not a small man.

As it is, in the moments it takes for both of them to be gone, where they end up is where they remain, almost motionless until well after the dawn. Enver remains close despite the knowledge of what Kael is, or was, and it is a testament to what he believes he understands of the man that he would be willing to be not only unconscious in his presence, but in contact with him.

When slowly consciousness begins to climb its way back into his body, he feels no aches from the rougher surface, or from sharing that space. Memory returns before panic at his surroundings has a chance to set in. There is still this hum of anxiety eventually, because new -- uncertainty -- no plans. But his eyes are open and he's sitting up, and he's there.

It might be a dream.