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It was a rare quiet day, something Tavor suspected would become rarer still as the journey continued, and he planned to make the most of it by resting and sorting through his packs. Really, when had he picked up so many pairs of boots? He was in the process of placing things into piles when a boisterous voice rang out across the clearing.
"Ah, my good friend! Just the person I wanted to see- I say, where are all your companions?"
It was Volo, the bard they'd rescued from the goblin camp. He'd left two days ago, shortly after conversing with Tavor about the tadpoles, saying that he'd need to do more reading up on the matter first. Seeing him here now, he must have done just that.
"Most of them are out, though two stayed behind. I'm guessing you made some progress on the tadpole situation?"
The two who'd remained were Gale and Astarion, both of whom were on the other side of camp in their respective tents. The others had gone out to explore a nearby cave, something Astarion had turned his nose up at, sniffing, and saying that romping around in a dank cave for fun was the last thing he wanted to do. Gale would have gone, but he’d managed to get himself sick after running around through the hags bog, so he opted to stay behind and rest a bit.
"Ah, I see! Well, you'll be quite glad to hear that I do indeed have an idea on how we can remove that pesky little straggler in your cranium." Volo said cheerfully, tapping his temple. Tavor's eyes widened slightly.
"Have you really?"
"Quite! My research turned up a rather brilliant technique that seems quite actionable!" The man replied, gesturing for Tavor to recline on the stone slab near the edge of camp. Tavor complied, lying back as he watched Volo curiously. The bard leaned over him, peering into his eyes.
"It's not too deep... Just behind the orbital socket. I could attempt an extraction now. I've a needle, after all..."
Tavor's eyebrows pinched together in confusion. "What exactly do you plan to do?"
"Well its very simple! I shall take this needle and press it in, just above your eyeball, to get to the parasite living behind it. You'd feel some pressure, but it'd be completely painless, I assure you."
"Into my eye?" Tavor winced, affronted. Volo simply laughed.
"Above it, my friend! Not through it. It'll get rid of that nasty creature, certainly."
Tavor weighed his options. He did want- no, need- the tadpole gone, otherwise he'd turn in a matter of days. At best, the procedure worked, and once his tadpole was gone, Volo could help the others. At worst...
"What happens if this fails?"
"Bah, perish the thought! After my extensive amount of research I can say without doubt there is no better way to cure yourself. Why, not even a Githyanki Creche will provide such an effective treatment."
A bold claim, certainly, but an admittedly tempting one. Tavor eyed the needle... It wasn't all that long or thick. It would slip above his eye and wouldn't even hurt... He took a deep breath.
"Do it."
"I assure you, I've dreamt of it a thousand times over. I know precisely what to do." Volo said, pressing in closer.
His free hand cupped the side of Tavor's head, his thumb pressed up against Tavor's eyelid and lifting it slightly. With his other hand Volo brought the needle in, prodding uncertainly above Tavor's eyeball. It didn't hurt, but it was rather uncomfortable, and unease began to rise in Tavor's chest the longer it went on. He breathed through it and kept still, until finally the needle found the space between eyeball and socket and pushed, then stopped, meeting resistance.
"Hmm," Volo frowned, staring. Then, without warning, he lifted his hand up and stabbed the needle down, forcing it through the space. Tavor let out a pained shout, gritting his teeth at the fiery pang that tore through him. Volo moved the needle and Tavor felt the pain increase, jolting from his eye through the rest of his head and down his neck, all the way to his toes.
"I think I have it!" Volo cheered, moving the needle back and forth, seemingly oblivious to Tavor's pain. Tavor grunted. This was a horrible idea, a terrible idea, what in the hells was he doing-
"Volo- Volo, stop-"
"Worry not, my friend! I know what I am doing!"
There was a squelch, and more sawing of the needle, and Tavor could barely breathe as another spasm of pain lanced through him.
"Volo, stop!"
Distantly Tavor heard voices- confused, distressed, and angry- but he couldn't focus or make out who was speaking over the white hot pain in his head.
"-said stop! Get away from him!"
"I've nearly got it!" Volo responded. More movement, jerky and sudden, more pain.
"Get off!"
P l o p
A scream tore its way from Tavor's throat as searing, blinding pain burst through his head in radiating waves. It hurt, oh Gods it hurt, please, someone, help him, make it stop.
"Hells! Fuck... Breathe, darling, can't have you choking now." A voice spoke up beside him. Tavor felt himself be sat up, just slightly, before something cool was pressing against his lips, and he drank it down greedily. He sighed in relief as the healing potion took immediate effect, the blazing agony in his head dulled to a tender throb.
"There we are, much better." The voice said, and Tavor realized that it belonged to Astarion. He cracked open his eyes to look at him, but frowned when he could see nothing on his right side. He blinked, willing his vision to clear. It didn't.
"I- I can't see... My eye-"
"I'm afraid... Well... Oh, hells. Where is that damned cleric?" Astarion hissed, and while Tavor couldn't quite see the vampling, he could feel him tense up, gripping Tavor's right arm tightly.
" 'Starion?" Tavor slurred, feeling dizzy and off kilter with only half his vision. Astarion didn't respond with more than a soft shushing before voices began filling the camp, all of them sounding concerned.
"Soldier! Fuck, what did that little shit do to you?!" Karlach's voice yelled.
"Where is he? Where's the bard?" Wyll asked sternly.
"Dealt with, I assure you." Gale responded, voice dark and dangerous. "I may not be in the best shape to cast spells at the moment, but I have a hoard of scrolls. I introduced the bard to both my scroll of hold person as well as the cloud of daggers."
"You mean to say you...?" Wyll trailed off uncertainly. Gale sighed.
"No. The bard is alive, I simply casted the spell to scare him, and it certainly did the trick. I did cast hold person on him, however."
"Good, I'd quite like to have a talk with him, myself."
"Move aside." Shadowheart's voice came from somewhere close by. Astarion shifted to where Tavor could actually see him, and the look on his face made panic clench in Tavor's chest. He'd scarcely seen the vampling look concerned or so uneasy during their time traveling together- had only really seen such emotion from him the night he'd been caught trying to bite Tavor's neck- but it was there now. Tavor swallowed thickly.
"Fuck." Shadowheart mumbled, the hushed curse solidifying that the damage must be bad. "Tavor, I can't... I can't heal this."
He didn't want to ask, but he couldn't stop himself. "W-why?"
"It's- I can't heal what isn't there."
Isn't...? "What?"
"That bumbling idiot yanked your eyeball out along with the needle, darling." Astarion cleared up, voice twinged with something Tavor couldn't place. Shadowheart began saying something, responding to Astarion, admonishing his bluntness, but Tavor could focus on none of it. His- His eye? It was... gone? That explained why he couldn't see. He was- Volo had- Oh Gods-
"It's all my fault." Tavor whispered in horror, bringing his trembling right hand up to hover over his face.
"What?" Shadowheart said, turning to look at him in confusion, whatever words she'd been saying to Astarion forgotten.
"I'd- I'd told him t-to do it... I thought... He said he could get rid of the tadpole." Tavor mumbled, feeling numb. Gods, how stupid could he be? Why on Earth had he agreed to such an objectively idiotic procedure?
"Look at me."
Tavor flinched at the seriousness of the tone, turning his head to look at Astarion who'd become suddenly much closer. The mans face was grave, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he clenched his jaw. His red eyes were dark and piercing and swirling with a multitude of emotions, none of which Tavor could truly place.
"I'd heard you, as I was coming to see what all the noise was about. I'd heard you tell him to stop. As foolish as it might have been to agree to such a thing in the first place, you did not deserve to be mutilated. This wasn't your fault. Understood?"
"...But-"
"Understood?"
Tavor was so caught off guard by Astarion's tone, expression, and words that he could do no more than nod dumbly, tongue thick in his mouth. Astarion continued to pin him with his gaze for a few seconds more before sliding away like nothing happened, though the troubled look on his face never left. Shadowheart moved over then, fixing what little damage the healing potion hadn't already cleared up, though sure enough his sight never returned.
He sat up, swaying slightly, blinking his eyes as he tried to adjust his vision. He could feel that his right eyelid didn't move as it should, barely twitching, and not closing fully. Everything felt off kilter, and his hands kept missing the stone slab as he tried moving, his depth-perception off. Finally he sat on the edge and made to stand, feeling woozy, and a hand clenched his arm to balance him.
"Don't go falling on your head, dear. You'll ruin our clerics hard work." Astarion said, guiding Tavor forward toward the bedrolls. The voices of the rest of the camp began filtering in, though not once did Volo's voice ring out.
"Tav! Glad to see you up, and you're lookin' a little better, at least." Karlach approached with a smile, though it was strained. Tavor highly doubted he looked any better at all.
"Yes, lets all start lying to him, now. He looks dreadful. Nothing some sleep won't fix, however."
"Oh! Reminds me- Volo gave this to Wyll. Said it was the least he could offer, after..."
Karlach handed Tavor an orb of white glass, painted with excruciating detail to resemble a real eye, with brass fittings along the sides of it. It hummed softly in his hand. The eye was blue, so it wouldn't match the green of his real eyes, but at least he wouldn't just have an empty socket.
"Said it had some magical properties, though I'm not sure how much I trust him on that. You should be able to see through it, like a normal eye, but if not, Wyll offered to help you out."
"Thanks..." Tavor muttered, drained, rolling the eye between his fingers. Astarion huffed.
"Well, before you go cramming the thing into your head, how's about a little rest first. Hm?"
Tavor nodded, and Karlach bid him a restful sleep as she walked off. Tavor zoned out a bit, and when he next cracked open his eye he was lying on his bedroll and Astarion was nowhere to be seen. Gale was hovering nearby, however, and cracked a small smile.
"Didn't mean to disturb you, I know you're trying to rest. I simply wanted to assure you that you won't have to worry about Volo any longer."
Truthfully, Tavor hadn't been worried, but he still felt mostly numb, so that could be why. "Is he dead?"
"Gods, no, though it was a very near thing, I must say. Most of the camp wanted to gut him. However, we decided to let him go. Much as I hate to admit it, it was clear he hadn't meant to cause such harm, not that that matters much to you, I'm sure."
It didn't. But Tavor found himself glad the bard was alive all the same, oddly enough. "So where is he?"
"Gone. Ran off- Wise decision. And I'm quite sure we won't be seeing him ever again."
Tavor nodded, closing his eye again. "Good..." He mumbled sleepily.
"Get some rest, my friend. We can study that eye he gifted you more closely when you wake."
Tavor relaxed, Astarion's words from earlier still ringing in his head. He hummed contentedly as he dropped into a deep, deep sleep.