As the Fire Rises

Chapter Fourteen: A Watched Pot.

There was a fleeting comfort in the tiefling's arms, the feeling of a safe sanctuary not one filled with gore and flowing blood but the kind where one would sprawl out without a care in front of a warm crackling fire. A painful shock overtook Citrine's body her spine curled to the stars in Karlach's arms, a pain-filled scream left Citrine's cracked lips and darkness overtook her entire being. 

Aelius' eyes bounced between his mother's face and his father's. She looked frail, starved and he looked as if air had finally filled his lungs. "This is wrong, this was far too easy. We need to go. Now!" Panic overcame him, his body trembled. 

"I agree with Aelius, we've had our fair share of battles," Wyll backed up his nephew as he placed a firm hand on Aelius' shoulder. "and this was far too easy to best." 

Lilliana watched well hidden from above, Citrine cradled like a child, watching the panic and relief flow through the group below, they made their way out with little trouble, a few cultists striking as they made their way out of the murderous hideaway. She followed them through the broken city, around the sewers until a beam of yellow light scorched her skin as they left to the sun-filled land above, the light kissed their skin but left hers broiled. They exited one by one, Diana leaving last, she looked up and around as if she struggled to climb the ladder above, a small parchment slipped from her hand falling in the muck below her.  Lilliana waited till the relief of darkness came then she scurried to the folded parchment. Thing curved letters that slanted far too much to the right read "Don't follow, they know something is amiss." 

Astarion watched Citrine's chest rise and fall in her meditation. She slept different from before, she was one to sprawl out before almost human like in comfort, she was stiff and almost solider like in her rest. Her skin softly glistened from where Shadowheart had cleaned her from the dried blood and dirt the clothes she dawned before now changed into something more comfortable. Her once trinket ridden hair laid unadorned, in a single braid reminiscent to the one her sister Orin wore. A soft hand upon his shoulder broke him from his thoughts. 

"A watched pot  never boils Astarion." Gale sat beside him on the ottoman. He had aged in the years, Astarion noted his aging was too soon, the years of worry and battle had left their mark on his dear friend. 

"Its a good thing she isn't a pot then." A small chuckle left them both, the room turned silent as they both sat Gale's arm around his friend in comfort. A small stir left Citrine, Gale stood to leave squeezing Astarion's arm before exiting. "Citrine?" Astarion's voice held a small quiver. 

Her grassy eyes fluttered, she bolted up, the red comforter falling off as she looked around in a panic. "Where am I?" 

Astarion stood slowly making his way to his love's side. "You're safe." 

She pushed herself back into the head board, pulling her knees into her chest, "No, not safe never safe." Her word's broken. He slid onto the bed, placing a cold hand to her cheek. 

"You are where you belong, safe with me." His scarlet eyes filled with tears though none fell. "Citrine you are alive." She looked up at him, her eyes looking at him fully. 

"I don't know you, this is a trick! You're one of them! Please don't hurt me." Tears fell as she pulled herself tighter into herself. "Please, don't hurt me." Her face burrowed between her knees hidden into her chest a slight grin left her lips between the tears. Gathering herself she sobbed and looked back to the vampire, "Please." 

Astarion pulled himself up to her, placing a hand to her face softly moving her eyes to his own. "Do you not remember anything sweet elf?" the tears silently fell from his eyes, as he hugged her tightly. "Do you truly not know who I am, who we are together?" Citrine shook in his arms. He caressed her cheeks with his hands and kissed the top of her head. Citrine's eyes closed at his kiss and a pain filled her once more, her body convulsed back and she bore the pain. Astarion in shock yelled for Shadowheart.