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chapter nine. a touch of dark
Fallon watched as Astarion stooped beside Gut's corpse and plucked the tadpole from the woman's death stilled cheek. He grimaced with unbridled disgust, turning to her as it wriggled in his grasp. Its movements were sickening as it jerked unpredictably, its grey body shining with viscous jelly.
"It would be a shame for it to go to waste."
His offer was plain. Fallon wasn't averse to the privacy his proposal held. The thought had crossed her mind that she had no idea just how she would react, but if her fear was any evidence, she did not want to risk hesitation in Marth or Dalaia. She wanted to remain strong for them but standing in the presence of the parasite, she felt anything but.
Fallon's gaze steadied on Astarion, who was watching her carefully. This was not a simple matter of convenience for him, he was testing her. Did her determination truly hold up? She could have asked herself the very same question.
"It does hurt." Astarion said, answering the question Fallon had been reticent to voice. He gave the tadpole a shake, provoking a series of frenzied writhing. Her stomach turned. "I don't think I've felt anything that quite compares, but if I had to take a stab, I would say it's probably how the sun feels when it's eclipsed. Well, that but with teeth."
Fallon swallowed, the rock in her throat bobbing uncomfortably against her skin.
"A pleasant description."
"I'm simply being honest." A pause. "Have you lost your nerve?"
"No." She refused the urge to wince. "Let's just get this over with."
If his intent had been to goad her, he had certainly been successful. Astarion gestured for her to approach and with wooden movements, she obeyed.
As her proximity grew, the tadpole's body suddenly grew rigid, worming around to face her. Skin glossy with undulation, it let out a high-pitched squeal of delight as it sensed its impending fate. Fallon could feel its hunger, its desperation to enact its singular purpose. To fuse with the delicate matter encased in her skull, to consume, to take her insides and morph them into an obscenity fit to make even the gods below weep. Fallon stopped short, unable to stop herself from recoiling in disgust.
"Oh darling, don't back out now." Astarion teased, though his lips were drawn.
He did not watch the abominable parasite he held, but her. She sensed he wanted to glimpse her weakness. To back down now would undoubtedly affirm some aspect of his assessment of her. She could see it in the rubies of his eyes, the desire to watch her bend. Fallon swallowed her revulsion and shook her head, squaring her shoulders. This was a fate crafted by her own hand. All that remained was that she should meet it.
