Chapter Text
Her father’s clawed hand rested gently on her forehead, his magic beginning to steadily probe at the thing inside her head. The tadpole writhed and protested as he did, despite how gentle his touch was. Hissing sharply at the pain, at the way the tadpole began to radiate smugness, Rueri tore herself from his touch. Talesin caught her elbow before she stumbled back into the nearest dining chair, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as she clutched uselessly at her skull.
“Netherese.” Raphael spat the word like a curse, hellfire raging in his hooded gaze. He looked seconds from cleaving the nearest object in twain, and Rueri dearly hoped to head him off before he decided to go after one of their companions. “The tadpole is being protected by Netherese magic. I cannot remove it.” His scowl deepened. “Not at present. Not without killing you, Elizavetta.”
It cost him dearly to admit such a failure, she knew. She’d come by her arrogance honestly, as the daughter to Mephistopheles’ heir. But she had nothing on Raphael.
“So what do we do?” Talesin didn’t flinch when Raphael’s head swung his way, eyes burning with the heat of Avernus. “If you cannot remove it what… what do we do?”
While they had been spared the usual symptoms from those in possession of Ilithid parasites, she doubted their luck would remain as such forever. Sooner or later, their luck would run dry and they would be consumed by the tadpole. Gripping her brother’s arm so tightly she nearly punctured his leather bracer, she met her father’s gaze.
“You said it was tainted with Netherese magic, right?” Distantly, she was aware of Gale behind them, of his attention to the repeated use of the word. Like any bard worth her salt, she knew about Karsus and Netheril’s fall. It wasn’t a stretch to assume a wizard as powerful and talented as Gale did too. “Wasn’t there an artifact in grandfather’s collection that had something to do with all that?”
She spoke as vaguely as she could, given the subject and the listening ears. Mephistopheles had a great many things in his vaults, countless magical relics and objects that would never see the sun again if her grandsire had his way. It drove her father mad that his own father’s ambition went as far as collecting power to merely gather dust on shelves. Though she, and her father, had a few things that had been sent over from the vaults, they were but a mere drop in the bucket so to speak. Her own lute, fashioned from rosewood and gilded with mithral, had been a gift from her grandsire for her tenth nameday.
Blast! If only she’d remained in better contact with her father during her time on the mortal plane. Being so far removed from the goings on in the Hells left her feeling as blind and foolish as a child.
Her father’s expression hardened at the mention of his sire, though he merely nodded before dismissing the subject altogether. “You will do nothing foolish in your attempts to remove the parasite, are we clear my Ruby? That means no visiting of Hags.”
Starting guiltily at the reminder of their run-in with Auntie Ethel, Rueri opened her mouth to snip back before Talesin squeezed her shoulder in warning. Settling back against his bulk, she swallowed as she remembered their companions just behind them. Twisting her head, she saw Gale first, his face set in a thoughtful expression, though there was a ghost of worry when their eyes briefly met. Shadowheart looked just as wary, though the other woman constantly wore an expression of pinched distaste so it was hard to tell at times.
Wyll though, looked thunderous.
His good eye was fixed solely on Raphael, hand grasping the hilt of his rapier as he stood tense as a statue. Unease practically leaked from every pore, and she swallowed when he let his gaze flicker from her father to her own. The naked distrust she found there made something heavy settle in the pit of her stomach, though she straightened her shoulders and met him head on with a confidence she didn’t truly feel.
“I must away, my Ruby.” Raphael drew her attention back, fingers catching her chin before he pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead. "Take care, my boy." He nodded at Talesin, gazing down at the pair of them with something approaching fondness before his expression hardened. “As for you, my brave, intrepid souls… do take care of my dearest Ruby, won’t you? His hellfire gaze narrowed in warning, voice dipping to a register that sent shivers up her spine. “For if she is not in pristine condition the next time we meet, well…”
Drawing away from them, he snapped his fingers, sending them from the House of Hope and back into their campsite. Shuddering at the change in pressure, Rueri blinked several times before she realized that someone was shouting. Looking up, she faintly realized that Talesin had moved in front of her, hand going for the Everburn blade he'd won off Commander Zhalk back on the nautiloid. As the pressure in her ears finally popped, she was aware of Wyll's voice, strident with temper.
"She's a devil!"
"No!" Talesin snapped, fully drawing his blade when Wyll made to take a step closer. "She bloody well isn't!"
"And how are we to trust your word?" Wyll challenged hotly, lips curled into a snarl as he held his own weapon aloft. "How are we to know you haven't been charmed and taken in by this... this fiend!"
"Because she's my sister!" Talesin roared, and Rueri wasn't too surprised when a pair of skeletal, ghostly looking wings sprung from his back and his pale, almost white eyes became solid black to the alarm of their companions. "You lay a hand on her and it'll be the last thing you ever do!"
The standoff continued for several terse heartbeats while their companions looked on, seemingly lost for words. Distantly, she registered the almost aroused expression both Astarion and Shadowheart wore at her brother's outburst, but dismissed it for later needling. Right now, she needed to keep her brother and Wyll from killing one another. Reaching out to smooth a hand along his arm, she stepped closer to Talesin and drew his attention away from Wyll. He fought her, refusing to turn himself to face her fully and, in a fit of temper, she dug her nails into his chin and yanked his head her way.
"Tal. Stop this." She scolded him lightly, loosening her grip when the black began to fade from his wild gaze. "We both knew it wasn't going to be pretty when this came out. Given no one's dead yet, I say we chalk this up to a win."
Lucky for her, the darkness had gone from his eyes by the time he fixed her with a flat, unimpressed stare. Relieved she'd talked him off the ledge, she turned to face their companions, her brother a rather overprotective wall at her back. Wyll was staring at them, a faint air of uncertainty about him, as he looked between the two of them. Few people who had seen her brother's wings lived to tell the tale, given how pissed off he had to be to lose composure like that. Aasimar were rare enough as it was, less alone fallen ones.
"Well," Gale cleared his throat loudly, clapping his hands together as he stepped forward. "I think we can all agree that that was... that was something." He paused as if lost for words, a thought that had an almost hysterical giggle threaten to break free from her lips. "How about we put the swords away and talk this out, calmly."
"I will if he does." Talesin spat out, sheathing his blade with clear reluctance. He settled more firmly behind Rueri, placing his hands on her shoulders protectively. "Rue is not a devil, Wyll."
"'Rue' can speak for herself, Tal." Realizing she had been far too passive, Rueri shrugged at his touch, though was unable to dislodge the meathooks he called hands. She focused on Wyll, swallowing at the look on his face. "My father is a cambion, yes. But my - our - mother was human, Wyll. She died after I was born and Rapahel took us in."
She was leaving out nearly several chapters worth of information with that succinct explanation but didn't feel they needed to hear the whole of the tragedy that was their lives. At this point, no matter how fond she was of most of them, she barely trusted them enough to watch her back in a fight, never mind with her deepest secrets. With what seemed like great reluctance, Wyll sheathed his own blade, lips purse in a scowl as he beheld them.
Lae'zel spoke for the first time since their arrival back at camp. She had remained in camp with Astarion, though had protested rather aggressively at being left behind. "And what does this paltry devil want with us, ra'stil? Or does he merely mean to flutter his paltry wings to unsettle us?" Though her gaze was narrowed, there was less hostility in her voice than Rueri had come to expect from the Githyanki warrior.
"Other than to stop his only child from becoming a mindflayer? No idea." She snorted at the very idea that she knew the inner machinations of her father's mind. The man was a raving megalomaniac at the best of times and she'd long given up trying to understand his reasonings. "I have some theories, none of which have any true basis in fact, and I'll be keeping those close to the chest for now, thank you very much."
"Aww, and here I thought we might braid each others hair and share secrets." Astarion crooned out, grinning at her when she turned to glare at him. He blew her a kiss before his smile settled into something more serious. "While I don't disagree the revelation of your parentage was a surprise, given my own situation I'm hardly in a place to throw stones."
Gale was nodding along with his words solemnly. "We all have out secrets and burdens to bear. It would be unfair of us to expect more from you than we are willing to give ourselves."
"He's right." Shadowheart chimed in, dark eyes bouncing back and forth between Rueri and Wyll. "Just, next time maybe warn a girl before your father decides to transport us to another plane of existence." A faint smirk played at her lips, eyes twinkling with mischief beneath the heavy, dark fringe of her hair.
"While I can't exactly promise he won't pop up again, I'll do my best to keep the plane jumping to a minimum." Rueri promised, daring to return Shadowheart's smile before she steeled herself and looked back at Wyll. "Can the 'Blade of Frontiers' live with that, Wyll?"
He was gritting his teeth in an odd manner, as if he wanted to speak but was unable to. Finally, with a jerky nod and a terse 'yes', he turned on his heel and made for his tent. Relieved that things hadn't devolved into violence as she feared, Rueri let her brother lead them to their tents, thankfully on the other side of the camp from Wyll's. Personally, given that she could smell Avernus (and a certain member of Zariel's inner circle) all over Wyll, she thought him being a bit hypocritical. But, as Gale had said, it wasn't her place to divulge the secrets of others.
As she settled in for the evening, she wasn't surprised when Astarion wandered over, his blood-red gaze locked on Talesin. Their flirtation, sparse as it was, had given her more ammunition for teasing her brother than she'd had since their childhood. Personally, she found the pale elf's brand of flirting far too artificial for her tastes, though she made sure to return in kind whenever he deigned to look away from her brother and offer her some superficial compliment that, while lacking in any real true intent, usually brought a smile to her face. Shadowheart was fiddling with the strange puzzle box she carried, and Lae'zel was already beating up the makeshift mindflayer dummy just outside her tent.
As they spoke she caught a whiff of cherries and sulphur, her gaze flickering to the small rock formation near Gale's tent where she caught sight of a familiar red robe. One of her father's warlocks - hopefully Korilla - was clearly on babysitting duty for the evening. Resigned to it, and hoping no one else noticed, she went to join Gale at the campfire to 'help' with cooking their evening meal.
Gale welcomed her warmly enough and swiftly launched into a conversation about Karsus and Netheril that challenged even her knowledge of the subject. As she handed him spices from their meager stockpile, she caught sight of Wyll from across the camp, swallowing past the lump in her throat at the uncertain, shamed way he was looking at her before Gale regained her attention. When she looked back, Wyll was inside his tent with the flaps firmly shut.
He didn't join them for dinner than night.