Chapter Text
Cedar had awoken to a bloodless dawn.
His heart grew light, his mind unburdened by the clotting and cloying urge that had ruined the lives of many… but there was one whose life had only been improved by his darkness.
A man like the finest sussur blossom, a treasure native to his first home. A man that could not bloom in the light.
His heart ached for Enver Gortash.
His heart ached for the darkness he had been bred to thrive in, it ached for the boy behind it all.
A boy who was too bright to fit amongst his peers and too poor to make use of his intellect. A cobbler’s son, an inventor; a passionate and misguided boy. Smart enough to escape the cambion he’d been sold to, dumb enough to become involved with the Heapside Reavers. A felon, convicted of petty crime after petty crime.
A hypocrite had Enver Flymm become.
His black fist had grasped the trauma of his past and inflicted it upon all who grew close to him. It took all Cedar had to recognize and accept that Enver did not have to continue the cycle of abuse, that he chose to do this. No matter his feelings for the man, he had to do this for Karlach. He had to do this for the people of the Gate.
He had rejected Bhaal, he got rid of his darkness. As much as Cedar wanted Enver to do the same, he knew he wouldn’t. He knew how important control was to the fragile inventor, and even more, he knew how terrifying the world was without a gilded cage.
“You’re joking - right?” Karlach had scoffed, flame licking and spitting from their skin. Cedar winced under their tone, “I know you did not just ask that.”
Cedar locked eyes with the enraged tiefling and shook his head, “Karlach… you know how much I care for you, I just - you have to understand where I’m coming from.”
“No!” Karlach barked, “he isn’t like you, Cedar! He cannot be ‘redeemed’, he is evil! You have a heart, you have a soul,” they roughly poked his bare chest, “there is nothing in there for him.”
“He has to…” His grizzled voice shook and he shut his eyes. He could feel the entire camp looking upon him in judgement, he hated that his emotion shone through his finely manicured façade. “I am not asking that we spare him, Karlach. I know what he did to you, okay? He deserves to suffer for that, I just…”
He opened his eyes and looked at the tiefling, he damned the realization on their features, he damned the hurt on Karlach’s face.
“You—” Their face twisted, “you can’t redeem everyone, Soldier! There is no shred of goodness left in that man— he’s hollow!”
Cedar ruffled at that, “the same could have been said for me, Karlach.”
Their expression tightened with a scoff, “That isn’t fair, and you -”
“Do not forget that I was worse than him.” Cedar snapped bitterly, feeling all of the eyes in the camp look on the pair with trepidation. “Even as I have torn my father’s influence asunder, I still maintain the bloodied hands of a butcher. No penance will remove the wretched , crimson stain that my blood has left on this city.”
“You might have killed hoards of innocents, Soldier,” Karlach pleaded, “but he ruined what was left of the living.”
“Under control of the only God who heard his prayers.” Cedar combatted, deadly serious. He could hear the druids of the party begin to stand, ready to intervene. “This hatred, the malice that he carries is not of his flesh and blood. It has been cultivated , it is an adaptation.”
Halsin and Jaheira grew closer, and Cedar found his heart steadying. They knew more intimately of Cedar’s past than anyone in camp. They knew of his cruelty, and his passion for redemption, but most importantly: they both knew intimately what his relationship was with Enver Gortash. They both knew that such a bond was nearly impossible to break without mutual destruction.
But as he looked at Halsin’s face and recognized the telltale draw of his lover’s brow, he could understand: they cannot understand, and they do not have to. This is your burden to carry.
Cedar steeled himself and flicked his gaze back to Karlach.
“You know as well as I, Karlach, that this is a very tricky situation.” Cedar conceded, voice level and calm. The tiefling bristled. “Enver Gortash has done unspeakable things, vile and malicious things.”
“He has.” They nodded.
“And I will see him repent for that,” Cedar assured, squeezing Karlach’s shoulder. “But I…” He felt a sudden emotion clog his throat and he briskly sniffed, “I need to say goodbye first.”
“Are you serious?” Karlach looked upon the half-drow with a stubborn disdain.
“Deadly.”
They shook their head in disbelief, then nodded.
“ Fine .”
Dread settled low and sharp in Cedar’s chest as he scaled the walls of Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. Lute on his hip, his clothes finely pressed, the scent of fresh herbs and patchouli clung to him; a side effect of sleeping in bed with his druidic lover. He knew Enver wouldn’t mind, but then why did he feel so damned uneasy.
In the back of his mind, he knew he could be convinced to spare the tyrant. He couldn’t just kill him, he needed to see if Karlach was right; was Enver hollow? Was he made from the same infernal iron that he spent his life studying? Was he heartless?
Or was he that young boy Cedar’s thoughts had been plagued by? He was scared, angry and petulant because he was terrified to be hurt again. The boy had to run until he found shelter, but would not let any behind his walls unless they could keep him safe.
Surely he could convince Enver to take on a new last name once more if it meant safety without cruelty.
“Enver?” He called as he swung in through the window.
The Tyrant jumped and quickly dispelled a protective rune that was moments away from being triggered. His face squinted in equal parts amusement and annoyance.
“Cedar, you’ve returned .” He appraised the half-drow.
“I loathed to be away.” Cedar grinned sharply, moving toward the Banite.
Gortash scoffed and turned back to his work, but the blush that spread along his neck was telling of his fluster. He waved off his attendants and they hurried out of his grand office, leaving only two steel watchers to hold vigil. Cedar looked to the metal behemoths and exhaled shakily before approaching Enver’s desk.
“Do you have time to speak?”
Enver furrowed a brow and looked up, “Unlike you to ask for what you want, Assassin.”
Cedar leaned against the polished mahogany and held Enver’s gaze, “it is now…”
“Ah.” Enver nodded, abandoning his papers and turning to gaze upon the bard. “My time is unfortunately in high demand, but I suppose I can spare a moment.” He winced as he stood, then motioned to the adjoining bar. “Would you like a drink?”
“Mm.. yes. I’ll have whatever you fancy.” Cedar’s scarred lips curled into a fond smile and he offered an arm to the Banite. Gortash sneered at the offer, eyes flickering to the cane he had stored away, then sighed and grabbed Cedar’s bicep for support as they crossed toward his bar.
“Your small kindnesses make me incredibly uneasy.” He admitted as they grew closer. “It’s as if I can feel Bane’s fist closing around my throat. I’m sure you remember -” Enver settled on a stool and crooked his elbow onto the bar top, “my Dark Lord enjoys our cordiality as much as your father does.”
“They will forgive today’s transgressions, just as they have forgiven the rest.” Cedar hummed, his back turned to Gortash. “Now, relax while I find something worth drinking.”
A comfortable silence fell over the men as Cedar sifted through the contents of Enver’s liquor storage, eventually coming across a finely aged Waterdhavian Brandy. He pulled it out with a pleased smile and offered it with a lifted brow to his tyrant love. Gortash nodded, lips shifting into a nearly-hidden smirk, soft and warm.
“The news I bear is better digested with fine liquor,” Cedar admitted softly as he grabbed two crystalline glasses from a glass cabinet to his flank. He heard Gortash shift in his seat.
“What news do you bring?” He asked.
“It is a long story, to be sure.” Cedar began, feeling the warmth of Gortash’s gaze battle against the chill that settled the length of his spin in anticipation. He poured their drinks, “You are sure you have the time to—”
“I won’t have the time if you continue this incessant stalling .” Enver scoffed impatiently, taking his glass and raising it to his lips.
“I died.”
Gortash’s eyes softened, as did the rest of his features, he lowered the glass before he could drink any of its contents.
“I should not have been able to be revived, it was only because of divine intervention that I stand her now” Cedar continued. The tyrant did not move. “I… I couldn’t become my father’s sword.”
“What? ” Gortash asked, astonished. “But, what of—”
“I killed Orin.” Cedar breathed, hand reaching to hold Enver’s. The Banite released a breath he did not realize he had been holding as his hand itched to return the gesture. “I slaughtered her on her altar.”
“Your altar.” Gortash corrected distantly, brows shifting pensively. “Not her’s, never her’s. She didn’t earn it.”
“I will concede.” Cedar nodded, “It was mine until my father arrived.”
“He—” Gortash’s features blanched even further and he lifted his glass to his lips. “You appealed to his sensibilities, of course?”
Cedar shook his head despite knowing Enver was not looking, “as I told you, Love, he had a plan for me. He wanted me to be his puppet, his pet— his instrument of murder. I could not allow myself to lose what I had found.”
“What in the Hells are you talking about, Cedar?” Gortash snapped, pushing back from the bar and stepping from his stool. He ran an angry hand through his tousled hair, “You refused the God of Murder— what were you thinking?!”
Cedar flinched away, then stepped forward, attempting to keep the tremor from his wisened voice, “I was thinking of you.”
“Do not dare blame your foolishness on me!” Gortash barked, black eyes flaming with rage. “You chose to abandon your God, I would—” He lifted a fist to his mouth, “I would never ask you to do such a thing.”
“I know— Enver,” He stepped forward and frowned when the Tyrant stepped away. He clenched his fists at his sides, “Enver, I will not sully my pride to beg you for your ear. I demand you listen to me and consider—”
“ Ha!” Enver cawed dryly, shaking his head and crossing his arms across his chest. His eyes radiated malice, his netherstone thrummed in time. “You do not have a sliver of command over me, you whelp.”
Cedar’s lip twitched and he inhaled deeply, “Just because I am no longer Bhaalspawn does not mean I do not have urges , Enver.” He warned darkly, watching as Gortash’s form straightened. “You would do well to remember all I have done to you— the new things I could do.”
“Your threats mean nothing to me.” Enver’s jaw flexed and he scoffed, “And what the hells do you mean, ‘no longer Bhaalspawn’? Are you mad?”
“Watch your tone, Boy!” Cedar roared, hand instinctively slamming with a loud bang onto the bar table. Gortash visibly cooled his temper under the violent demand and shook his head in realization.
“I forget your age often until you call me that.” He stated coldly, staggering toward the redeemed Bhaalspawn. Cedar, despite his frustrations, reached out to Enver in his approach. Enver, despite his better judgement, acquiesced when Cedar’s large hand grasped his bicep.
“I should not have to remind you that I am your elder, your superior .” Cedar assured coldly, Gortash rolled his eyes to distract from the heat rushing to his neck. “You will show me the respect I am due and you will listen .”
“Or what?” The Banite tested, flexing into the tightening of Cedar’s aggravated grip.
The half-drow leaned into Gortash’s ear with a sneering growl, his aged timbre echoing through the corridors of the Tyrant’s mind.
“Or I will rip you apart with naught but my voice and make a chalice of your bones.”
He pushed the Lord to sit on his barstool once more and moved behind the bar. Silence enveloped the two as it did earlier, only now it was laden with tension. Gortash’s heat for the bard was combatted only by his interest in their abandonment of their father. Cedar’s heat for the artificer was combatted only by his need to know if he could be saved.
After a long few moments of quiet, Cedar was the first to speak.
“You could leave him too.”
Gortash’s brow furrowed, but his voice was soft. “What?”
“Bane.” Cedar breathed, not allowing Gortash to see the desperation in his eyes. “You could leave him and -”
“I should cut out your blaspheming tongue,” Gortash grumbled. “What makes you think I would ever do such a thing?"
“You…” Cedar rounded the bar and sat next to the Archduke, gaze raising to Gortash’s face. “I see you, Enver. I see the boy who trusted only himself to build a cage that could keep the monsters out.”
Enver scoffed and looked away, but Cedar grabbed his hand and forced his eyes back.
“You know nothing of me.”
“I understand you more than anyone else, Enver, and yet I must agree.” Cedar admitted softly, wincing to himself. He released Enver’s jaw and glued his eyes to the polished countertop. “I am freed of Bhaal, he has no hold over me anymore, and my blood is clean. I want that for you too Enver.”
“You don’t get to make that decision for me,” Enver said, brows drawn with an uncharacteristic sadness.
“I know.” Cedar nodded, voice wavering. “But I…”
Enver tilted his head, “what?’
“My people are going to succeed in sundering the brain, Enver,” Cedar stated solemnly, turning to look at Gortash. “They expect me to kill you today.”
A flash of betrayal peeked from Enver’s eyes. “Is their belief well founded?”
Cedar paused for a moment, then shook his head and looked away, “I could not.”
Enver thought in silence, then said, “… why?”
“Because despite all you have done— all of the destruction we have caused… I am redeemed . I am free .” Cedar whispered, “Does a fresh start not sound nice?”
Gortash’s expression grew tense, “what do you mean?”
“If you give me your Netherstone, we can fell the brain and shatter this gilded cage you have built for yourself.” Cedar pleaded, reaching to hold both of Gortash’s hands. The dark lord allowed it. “Allow me to be your protection, Enver. Allow my voice to never stop singing your praise.”
Gortash scoffed as if to convince himself, “You’re foolish to think I would agree to such a thing.”
“We can build a life together, in the woods somewhere, live out our final years in comfort. Hells, we could even stay in the city and help rebuild!” Cedar prodded, hands noticeably shaking in Gortash’s grasp. “Does that not sound right?”
Enver pulled his hands away, then cleared his throat. “You’ve read me wrong, I’m afraid.”
“Have I?” Cedar asked, watching a plethora of conflicting emotions flicker behind Gortash’s eyes. “Would it not please you to live under your control, to live freely? You could still have your foundry, your work as a Duke. Just… allow me to provide for you so you may want for nothing— I would do it, Enver. I will take care of you.”
“I…” Enver shook his head, “It isn’t a question of if you would care for me, I know you would.”
“Then say yes.” Cedar pleaded.
Enver grew silent in thought, face pensive and eyes flitting with thought. Cedar watched expectantly, heart beating a mile a minute. His stomach dropped as Gortash’s eyes hardened.
“Either I leave this room with you…” Enver spoke aloud, in realization. “Or I never leave this room. Is that right?”
Cedar bit his scarred lip and nodded. Gortash shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, pondering his options.
“Enver, there is a good man in you. I see him when you are at rest, I see him when you listen to me sing. I see him over dinner, I see him scouring libraries for things worth reading.” Cedar begged, voice laden with desperation. “I see him in your letters. In the few memories I have left, I see a handsome, passionate young man.” Enver opened his eyes, almost sheepishly and looked toward his elder. Cedar smiled, suppressing a sad laugh, “The young man who danced when he finished his first Watcher.”
“I did not think you sentimental.” Gortash shook his head, fraught with reluctance. “I am no longer that young man, Cedar. I will remind you that I am fifty, and I…” A realization flickered across his face, “I have known you for nearly half of my life.”
“And not a moment have you been free.”
Gortash opened his mouth to object but found that he had nothing to say.
What will you do?
1) [PERSUASION] Convince Enver to choose freedom. (DC 20)
2) Take his silence as your answer.
3) Leave.