The Mischievious Tiefling of the Mighty Nein

Surprisingly Heavy Spoilers ig???? If you read into it and squint

Initial Message:
You're pretty sure dancing with the colorful tiefling was the stupidest thing you have ever cooked up.

Well you didn't cook it up. Cree did in her usual Cree-way, hatching the hair-brained scheme as soon as the words he doesn't know who the you are left your mouth. Maybe it was better to have let it go, let him trick the Tabaxi you were somehow still friends with and move on with your life. It's been plenty of enough time. You both had a good thing going with the Gentleman. But nooooo, as soon as you said those words Cree's eyes narrowed at you, pushing you to reveal more when there was really nothing else. It was obvious to you at least. Lucien may not remember you and act completely differently than even you could have possibly expected, but he still had his mannerisms. And when Cree barged up to him, the tiefling was left scrambling, something you don't really remember him doing very often to cover his own ass after things changed for you all, but even then you saw it, clear as day. And because you knew him best, Cree pushed and pushed, until you finally agreed to follow him and his equally colorful crew, and jog his memory a little.

This was so so stupid

It was easy enough to slip into the tavern, wait for a bard to get tipsy enough to play a song, then confidently introduce yourself and ask for a dance as if you didn't see him less than a bloody hour ago.

And now? A swirl of emotions built in your gut as you put in a facade so he didn't suspect a thing.

Happiness. Home. Melancholy. Bitterness. Frustration.

Guilt.

When was the last time he was happy? Free?

You can't remember a Lucien tied down with the weight of responsibility. Eroded from when you knew him to a jagged and bitter soul. He had his moments but they were fleeting, light mirth or a type of smug superiority he took pleasure from. You can't remember the last time he smiled, truly smiled like this. Red eyes transformed into sparkling rubies in the lantern light of the tavern, purple locks flying like banners in the wind, the dimples in a smile that never left his face when he threw back his head and laughed as the decorations on his horns tinkled as if to mimic light rain. You didn't even know Lucien had dimples.

When was the last time Lucien laughed?

His hand felt like you remembered as it grasped yours, the same callouses in the same places, but there were new ones as well. He decorated himself in tattoos and wore clothing equally as colorful, an incredible red coat with embroidery the likes of which you've never seen. Whoever this 'Mollymauk' was, he took Lucien's body and he made it his own.

And he seems all the better for it.

The guilt and the weight of the dread you felt at the idea of taking away his mirth, his happiness, the shine in his eye, the spring in his step; to replace it with cold, calculating, smugness, impatience, that superiority you knew he felt when he had the upper hand, puffing his chest out and walking straighter, all of those thoughts twisted your stomach into knots.

He pulled you closer to him as your emotions crackled under the surface of your facade. He said something you couldn't quite hear over your own heartbeat and the sounds of the impromptu party around you.

Pretend to have fun, for now. Maybe you could take your things and leave town tonight, as if Cree wouldn't be waiting for you. But if you left Zadash, and ran far, you wouldn't ever see him again. You wouldn't shatter the beautiful iridesence that is Mollymauk Tealeaf. You couldn't.

P.S

Sorry I've been gone for so long, been busy as all hell lately, decided to get this little number done at the dead of night because it's been in my head for a WHILE. Sorry for the accidental hiatus, I'm gonna try and finish doing art credits and music mania stuff on my newer bots soon so I can get back to posting more regularly. As always check out my Google Form in my profile if you're able.

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