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It’s the dead of night, and Karlach can’t sleep. Plagued by nightmares of Zariel, plagued by thoughts of mind flayers, plagued by loneliness, who knows. Randomly exploding hearts made out of infernal machinery? She doesn’t know, nor does she care. All she cares about is pushing these unpleasant thoughts out of her mind. Run. She’ll go for a run. A physical run and most definitely not a metaphorical one.
The cool night air feels amazing against her body, does wonders for her mind. A gentle jog and a cool evening. What more can a girl ask for? She’s alive! She’s free! The freedom to run where she pleases and when she pleases! Who's going to stop her? Nobody! That's who! Not even herself!
Nobody, except the sight of Lae’zel. She's unarmored, out in the open without her greatsword. The glow of her golden eyes seem to pierce through the darkness up toward the moon and heavens. She looks relaxed, calm, a stark difference from her daytime twitchiness at the slightest movement or sound. Here, illuminated by nothing but moonlight and stars, there’s softness to her, a feeling of longing, yearning. Karlach can only wonder what for. Perhaps she too is running away from nighttime demons. Perhaps she finds refuge in solitude and stillness only midnight can offer.
Lae’zel’s otherworldly beauty forcibly pulls Karlach out of her mild runner’s high. And genuinely, Karlach hadn’t meant to creep on Lae’zel or interrupt her moments of solitude, her rare moments of respite. It’s just that, Lae’zel’s always caught Karlach’s eye. She’s strong, wild, and crass. She carries herself in a way that demands respect. Disrespecting her is not an option. She and her, they aren’t so different, except Lae’zel’s guarded in a way Karlach can only envy. But now, seeing her completely exposed, emotions and all, it does something to her, possesses her. Even her hair is let down, slightly damp and sticking to the sides of her face.
“Lae’zel, has anyone ever called you beautiful?”
Lae’zel immediately tenses up, unsure if her mind’s playing tricks on her or if she’s having some brain parasite induced hallucination. It’s as if her mind forgot how to function, as if her mouth forgot how to speak. She can’t think, much less comprehend. “Tsk’va! Who’s there?” She growls, hand tightening on the hilt of her dagger, ready to strike at the slightest movement with no warning.
Karlach walks directly into Lae’zel’s line of sight, throwing her hands up in peace, doing her best not to laugh. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there! It’s just me, Karlach.” She doesn't mean to laugh. Karlach understands that being caught off guard can be the difference between life and death. It's just, Lae’zel’s cute when she’s caught off guard, the rare moments of unintentional vulnerability she shows. Best to savor those moments while they last – and try to not get your throat slit in the process. Perhaps the danger is part of the appeal. Good thing she’s smart enough not to get close when she suspects Lae’zel might startle. She gets it, for she too was once a soldier.
“I asked if anyone’s ever called you beautiful.” She repeats herself a bit louder this time, talks a bit slower, almost as if to tease the other woman. Slowly, gently, she walks closer.
Small. Lae’zel suddenly feels small, and exposed. Small and exposed and cornered. She furrows her brow, yet feels unable to move or defend herself. Frozen, she feels frozen, almost intimidated. For a brief moment, Lae’zel wonders if this is how her victims feel before they taste her blade. Helpless. Small. Exposed.
“Aww! No, don’t give me that look!” Karlach says as she makes her way closer to Lae’zel so she can get a better look at her face. “Don’t be scared! You’re making me feel bad!”
Karlach walks gracefully at night, or at least according to Lae’zel’s perspective. In the darkness, Karlach glows. Ethereal. Damn teefling, tiefling, whatever they’re called. Something about Karlach’s strength, her temper, her resolve, it demands Lae’zel’s respect. Still, another feeling draws her to Karlach, a feeling she quite can’t place or understand. It drives her mad, and not in a way she enjoys. Even the ground which Karlach walks upon seems sacred. Blood red is no longer the only red her mind fixates upon. Her mind might be steel, but even the strongest of steel cannot withstand the hottest of red flames.
“Chk, what’s all this about?” Lae’zel finally manages to sputter out. Her grip on her dagger loosens, but posture remains tense. Her daytime twitchiness once again rears its head. Karlach regrets interrupting her serenity, because trying to get Lae’zel to relax in the first place is already a near impossible task.
But what’s done is done, and Karlach must commit to her actions. She speaks tenderly, quietly. “I was just wondering if anyone’s ever called you beautiful. I didn’t mean to startle you, or creep on you, or anything of that sort. I just couldn’t sleep and I went for a small run and I just saw you. And I ‘unno, I guess I couldn’t help myself. You looked beautiful, staring up at the sky like you were.”
Lae’zel breaks eye contact with her, looking away from her and angrily toward the ground. Karlach see’s her pouting, side eyeing her. For once, she can’t read Lae’zel’s body language, or perhaps she refuses to for she does not want to entertain the idea of rejection. Rejection from what? Who knows. What was she even thinking tonight? Who cares? She doesn’t. Maybe she’s not good at reading body language in the first place. She never was very smart after all. If she was, she’d have stayed out of trouble.
“Beauty is a useless concept. It means nothing. I have no need to care about being beautiful.” Lae’zel’s words drip with disgust, and a faint hint of something else.
Now it all makes sense. Karlach immediately understands. Lae’zel’s never been called beautiful before, and she’s pissed off she doesn’t understand whatever she’s feeling right now. Other than violence and a carnal taste for only the freshest meat, Lae’zel isn’t the smartest when it comes to feelings, especially her not own. That’s fine, Karlach can work with that. To Karlach, that’s what makes Lae’zel so cute, so attractive, so alluring. Under all those spikes, there’s a certain softness to her waiting to be uncovered, exposed, freed.
“And that’s exactly what makes you beautiful, Lae’zel,” Karlach tells her, “You don't give a shit about any of that. You say what you mean and you do what you say. I can respect a girl who’s straight forward.”
“That makes me efficient, not beautiful. Only a coward resorts to mind games, false words, and flattery.” The way Karlach eyes up and down her makes Lae'zel feel uneasy. Karlach’s mere presence makes her feel uneasy. For once, she feels like prey and not predator. More confusing is her lack of desire to fight or flee. Tsk’va.
Karlach takes a step forward, and then another with confidence. It takes two to play this game. “So, tell me Lae, has anyone called you beautiful?”
Paralyzed. Lae’zel feels paralyzed. Her eyes dart around looking for answers to her body's disgusting lack of cooperation. Paralyze potion? Magic? Something must have been done to her! Never would she succumb to something as ridiculous as…being called beautiful.
“Ngh…!” Lae’zel groans when Karlach roughly grabs her face. She’s stared death in the eyes. She’s laughed in the face of death! She has been death itself! And yet, she cannot withstand the heat of Karlach’s impassioned gaze. Coward. She’s a coward.
“Or am I the first one?” With that, she presses their lips together in a kiss. Lae’zel submits to Karlach’s will. She’s never felt so helpless, so turned on. Karlach has defeated her with one single kiss.
Without a word, Karlach pulls Lae’zel away from her and grins. She got what she came for. She got her answers and more.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Lae. Try not to stay up all night.”
And just like that, Karlach’s gone. All Lae’zel can do is fall to her knees, bewildered at what she just experienced. Every carefully crafted defense mechanism, just instantly melted away by Karlach’s raging inferno. And in the inferno’s wake, Lae’zel feels a tiny smoldering in the remains of her melted steel mind and molten stone heart. Karlach thinks she’s beautiful.
Damn. What a woman.