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unreadpoppy · 10 months ago

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down by the river - Chapter 10

Raphael x Warlock!Tav

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Chapter 9

A/N: hey guys it's been forever, I know. My college classes came back and so did my internship, I'm participating in two different plays and just recently did I go back on my medication, so it has been very hard to find some time to sit down and write. This chapter is shorter because of that but I'm glad to have finally updated the story.

It was the last night before they finally attacked Moonrise Towers.

Everyone in camp was tense, especially after the previous night’s events. Shadowheart, in her path towards becoming a Dark Justiciar, ended up turning away from Shar, and freeing the aasimar Aylin, the source of General’s Ketheric immortality.

Minthara and Lae’zel both were sharpening their weapons, the drow more tense then the other. Karlach, Gale, Astarion, and Halsin made conversation, leaving Tav and Wyll by themselves.

The two warlocks sat in one Last Light’s balcony, looking out at the sky. Ever since the Nightsong flew free, it seemed as if the moon shone brighter. Tav had her feet up on the table, Lihala’s lute on her hands, while Wyll looked down, troubled.

“You alright?” She asked.

Wyll looked up and shook his head. “I was just thinking how one’s life can change in an instant.” He looked at her. “Karlach was just a bodyguard when suddenly, she was sold to Zariel. Lae’zel, Minthara and now Shadowheart have all but practically abandoned their gods.” Wyll looked to the sky, closing his eyes. “With a wave of a hand, Mizora turned me into this.”

Tav nodded, choosing to remain quiet. Her fingers stroked the chords of the lute, playing a familiar tune from her childhood.

Wyll listened closely, lost in his thoughts. Then, he shook his head. “I never heard that one before.”

Tav smiled. “It’s an old song from my time. It’s not played as much nowadays.”

His head tilted, confused, and raised a brow in a silent question. He chuckled “It’s just… you don’t strike me as that old, Tav.”

She smirked. “I’ve been around much longer than you could imagine, boy.”

“How old are we talking, then?”

“Older than Hasin.”

Wyll frowned.

“It’s part of my contract with Raphael.” She explained, noticing his confusion. “As long as he is around, so will I be.”

“I see.” A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. “Doesn’t that worry you? To have your life tied around a devil?”

In the time they had spent together, it wasn’t the first time that Wyll had questioned Tav’s relationship with her patron.

Tav sighed, putting her lute down and her feet off the table, sitting closer to him. “I understand your worry. We all saw the way Mizora treated you, and I’ll be the first person to help you bring her down. It’s only reasonable you'd be wary of any of the…infernal persuasion.” She smiled kindly at him. “I appreciate your concern, I really do. It shows how much you care about others but… I know what I did when I signed that contract. And I have not regretted that decision since.”

She leaned back on her chair, taking the lute back. Tav noticed how Wyll’s shoulders slumped and how his brown was furrowed. She wondered what she could do to try and ease his worries.

Tav looked down at the instrument in her lap and then at her hands. As her fingers once again began to play a familiar melody, a memory came to mind.

“Let me tell you a story.”

…

A year had passed since Tav had signed the contract and in that time, she had yet to play her lute again.

The ink on the contract had not even dried when she felt her hand healing, bone, skin and muscle going back in their places. She felt a relief she had never felt before, and the urge to play once again.

And yet, whenever she picked up the lute, she faltered. Her hand would begin to shake and then freeze right on top of the strings. It had been so long since Tav had last played, that old voice of self doubt, the one who followed any new artist, was plaguing her mind again.

‘You can’t do it, it will be terrible, you should just give up and-’

“What are you doing?” A familiar voice brought her back to reality. She turned her head and saw Raphael standing very close to her.

Tav had decided to go to one of the many balconies in the House of Hope, away from the suffering debtors so that she could play in peace.

“I was…going to play.” The devil nodded and then took a seat across from her, gesturing towards the instrument.

“Go on.” He said, making himself comfortable. “Entertain me. I want to see that my fixing of your hand was for a good reason.”

Tav gulped and her hands began to sweat out of nervousness. She took a deep breath, trying to ease her mind, but the moment her fingers touched the strings again, Tav froze.

She was transported back to her first performance on stage. Her heart beat loudly, she swore that the audience could hear it. There was an unsteadiness to her legs, as if any wind would take her away. She remembered looking at all those people, staring at her, waiting for her to fail. She had closed her eyes before playing the chords and-

“Tav.” Raphael said sternly. “I gave you an order. You’d be wise to oblige.”

“I know. Just-” She took a deep breath. “Give me a moment.”

He raised a brow, leaning back on his chair. “It shouldn’t be this difficult to play, dear. You are a bard, after all.”

‘You are a bard. You are a bard. You are a bard.’

The phrase echoed in her head, almost like a mantra. Her first performance, how had it ended?

Tav remembered it. Once her fingers began to play, it was as if the music just came out of her. Playing, singing, it was as easy as breathing for her.

‘You can do this, Tav.’ She told herself as the first notes were played, her voice following after.

Lace your heart with mine

Let your sleeping soul take flight

Take me through the night

Down, down, down by the river…

Opening her eyes, she looked at Raphael. He had leaned back on his chair, eyes closed and a serene expression on his face. When the song abruptly came to an end, he was quick to question.

“Apologies. I haven’t finished writing this song. Didn’t get the chance.” She explained, looking down.

He hummed. “It’s an interesting song. Full of potential for something great. I’d like to see it finished.” Tav nodded, a smile beginning to form on her face. “Now, play something else. Something completed this time.” He leaned again and closed his eyes, just as she began again.

…

Back to the present, Tav looked at Wyll, reassuring him one last time. “Raphael is not perfect, not by any means. He is a devil, after all.” Wyll huffed at that and she reached forwards, putting a hand on his arm. “But he gave me back the gift of music. He gave me my life. You do not need to worry about me.”

Tav stood up and left.

…

Ketheric Thorm was dead.

And with his death, new life was breathed into the shadow cursed lands, the first in a century. Tav smiled as the sun shone on her face, a glowing tree sprouting on where once was nothing. The land would heal.

The attack on Moonrise Towers had also brought new revelations. The truth about the Absolute had unfolded in front of them. The chosen of the dead three - Orin, Gortash and Ketheric - were in control of an elder brain, and had a planned attack towards Baldur’s Gate, which would have happened if the Apostle of Myrkul hadn’t been brought down.

With one nether stones in hand, the party had two new targets to strike before they could be rid of the tadpoles for once and all.

Tav’s mind wandered towards Raphael. Before her infection, her patron had sent her on a mission: Discover what Enver Gortash, the boy who had escaped Raphael’s claws, was up to. She hadn’t understood then what he meant but now, the picture was clearer and many questions had arised.

Tav had a distinct feeling that very soon she would get her answers.

#raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #tav #warlock!tav #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #my writing

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its-jaytothemee · 2 months ago

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Until I Met You - Chapter 42

Chapter 42: By the Light of the Moon

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 2,348

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Chapter 1

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Summary: Shadowheart makes a choice that will determine more than just her own fate. Part 42 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.

A/N: A bit of a shorter chapter, but it's pretty packed!

Tav braced herself for the spear’s impact.

Instead, she saw Shadowheart spin around and hurl the weapon away into the Shadowfell. Tav stared back at her in disbelief. She looked at her other companions who shared in her shock.

Gale, Wyll, and Halsin had spells queued up on their fingertips while Karlach, Lae’zel, and Astarion had their hands on the hilts of their weapons, prepared to fight back if Shadowheart had followed through.

I wonder if that’s how they looked when I aimed by bow at her.

“I…I can’t believe I just did that. Lady Shar will disown me.” Tears welled in her eyes as she stared back at Tav.

“And you are better for it.” Aylin walked up to the edge of her soul cage. “Lay a hand on me in friendship, not-quite-Sharran, and you shall have an ally in this fight and many fights to come.” She dropped to one knee before them.

“That…that’s it?” Tav asked, skeptical.

“Yes. So sure was Balthazar that I could not have a friend in this wretched place that he made it the very key to my prison.”

Shadowheart hesitated, looking back to Tav. With a deep breath, she walked up next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Shadowheart mirrored the gesture onto Aylin, who pounded her fist into the floor beneath her.

Thump.

“Our Lady of Silver. Hear me!”

Thump. Thump.

“She Who Guides, The Moonmaiden Selûne.”

Thump.

“Mother of the so-called Nightsong.” Aylin stood up. “The Nightsong is no more!”

A warm feeling surrounded them, pushing away the dark chill of the Shadowfell. With the soul cage broken, a familiar magical light drifted down to surround the aasimar. Selûne’s radiant moonlight lifted Aylin in the air, allowing her to conjure a brilliant set of armor over her rags. A massive greatsword floated down into her waiting hand, teeming with celestial energy.

They all gasped as a pair of resplendent wings appeared on her back, allowing her to hover in the air above them.

Everyone stood staring at her, speechless.

“You have done what we feared was impossible. You have released me from a century of sorrow, little warrior.”

Shadowheart looked like she could collapse at any moment as she battled with her years of faith and the choice she just made.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” Shadowheart’s voice was small.

“To kill Ketheric Thorm.”

With those final words, Aylin took off in flight, high up into the vast expanse of the Shadowfell. A portal appeared on the platform where she had been imprisoned.

“We…we need to leave. Now.” The panic in Shadowheart’s voice told Tav this was not up for discussion. “Lady Shar will not stand for me to be here for long. Not after what I did.”

“Very well.” Tav nodded toward the portal.

She jumped through to find herself outside the mausoleum entrance once more. One by one, her companions stumbled out behind her.

All except for one.

“Where’s Shadowheart?” She spun around in circles, searching for her frantically.

Everyone joined the panicked search, yelling out her name, their cries getting more desperate with each unanswered call.

“She was right behind me, where in the hells could she have gone?!” Tav’s voice was rising.

A sharp gasp behind her startled Tav out of her spiral. Shadowheart was kneeling in the dirt.

“Fucking hells, soldier,” Karlach ran to her side. “Where were you? You gave us a bit of a scare just then.”

“I tried to leave, but Shar blocked me,” she responded softly. “Punished me for failing her. Worse than failing her, defying her. I thought I knew the limit of pain that this wound could inflict, but I was sorely mistaken.”

“I’m so sorry��” Tav didn’t know what else to say.

“But then she released me,” Shadowheart sniffled as she stood up. “Banished me more like. She’s labeled me an outcast. Said that all of her children would know me and revile me.”

Sobs started to shake her body; she coiled in on herself as she spoke.

“I’m alone.”

Karlach glanced at Tav, a pained look on her face. Everyone else simply stood in awkward silence, no one seemed to have the words to comfort such a grief.

“Shadowheart, look at me.” Tav gripped her by both shoulders. “You’re not alone. We’re not going to leave you to face this decision on your own, I swear it. But right now, we have to get to Moonrise. We have to stop this cult before it can spread.”

She continued sobbing but had at least looked up at Tav.

“We’ll get you the answers you need, you have my word. I…” She found tears welling in her eyes as she started back into Shadowheart’s. “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.”

“You’re lucky to have such confidence. I…I’m a target for Lady Shar’s followers now. I’ve just added who knows how many enemies to our ever-growing list.”

“Then they’ll have to get in line behind the rest. I’m not going to abandon you to the consequences of a choice I pushed you toward, okay?”

She nodded in response as she wiped her eyes.

“Are you going to be okay to come with us, or do we need to get you back to Last Light?” Tav asked in a gentler tone.

Shadowheart looked around at their companions, distraught and lost, looking to anyone for help.

“We need you, Shadowheart.” Karlach spoke up, coming over to place a hand over Tav’s on her shoulder.

“You made a wise, but terribly difficult decision today.” Halsin came up and placed his hand on the other shoulder. “I know it was not made lightly nor without consequence, but I think it was the correct one all the same. We cannot get you the answers you seek unless we help Dame Aylin bring down Ketheric Thorm.”

Shadowheart took a few deep breaths, slowly calming her cries.

“I can fight,” she finally said. “I want to fight.”

Tav nodded, smiling back at her.

“Then let’s chase after that aasimar.”

***

Halsin raced after Tav as they ran through the ruined town, chasing the trail of light left by Aylin in the sky. They may as well have been chasing a shooting star considering the speed at which she took off.

“I hope that recon you did paid off,” Tav huffed as she ran ahead of them. “What can we expect?”

“Six to eight cultists and a handful of ghouls guarding the bridge,” Karlach yelled back. “We could probably take them all if Aylin hasn’t already blown them up with all this holy fire.”

They were constantly dodging patches of light blue and gray flames as they continued their run across Reithwin. The towers were coming into view, the little bubbles of light from the moonlanterns lining the bridge acting as their guiding beacon.

“Even if we can get rid of the guards, we’ll never make it through all the True Souls and Ketheric on our own. We should try and gather forces with–”

Tav skidded to a stop just shy of Moonrise Towers when a pack of other people came running at them from their flank.

The sound of weapons being drawn filled his ears as they prepared to fight off the unexpected attackers.

But Tav put her arms out to stop them all.

“Jaheira?”

Through the light of the holy fire scattered along the ground, he could now see that Jaheira was indeed charging toward them. She had an entire squad of Harpers and Flaming Fists in tow.

“Why didn’t you wait for us to report back to Last Light?” Tav asked, sounding irritated. Halsin was taken aback by her sharp scolding – usually she stiffened into a soldier’s stance and tone of voice when she addressed the High Harper.

“Ah, so you’re giving me orders now, little ranger?” Jaheira shot back, but Halsin caught the smirk pulling at her lips.

Tav gave her an amused scoff before stashing her bow again.

“An aasimar streaking across the sky like a holy comet seemed as good a sign as any that you succeeded. These eyes may be old, but they are keen as ever. We simply saved you some extra walking.”

Karlach and the others gave Jaheira a quick briefing of the outside defenses. Tav recalled what she could about the inside of the fortress from their first visit days ago. Halsin remembered precious little about the layout of the towers, so he was trusting the others to lead him through.

“On your command, Tav,” Jaheira said with an approving nod.

Tav froze, staring out over the small army now looking to her for instruction. She looked back to Halsin and the others, panic spreading across her features.

“We’re with you too, sis.” Karlach punched her lightly in the arm.

Halsin reached over and took one of her hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Harpers, form the rear line. Lay down cover fire for the Fists at the front. Wyll and Gale, I want you on opposite sides of the company ready to deter foes with spells. Try to stick with cantrips and other simple spells until we know where to find Ketheric…”

He watched as she started doling out assignments, fondly recalling the day they met. The way she commanded their attention with effortless grace, how her brow furrowed as she thought through the scenario ahead of them.

Today, he smiled at the way she squeezed his hand in hers so tight, looking for that support and comfort from him. And he was more than happy to provide it.

“…Karlach and Lae’zel will lead the charge, everyone else fall in behind them.”

When she stopped speaking, everyone was still looking at her, waiting. Tav seemed confused for a moment.

“They’re hoping for words of encouragement, something to strengthen their spirits,” Halsin whispered to her.

He felt her hand start to shake in his as she looked over the group of expectant soldiers. The racing of her mind was evident on her face with her twitching brow and darting eyes. She looked to the ground, like she hoped to find a speech written and ready for her to read aloud. Her grip on his hand tightened.

Then, she smiled.

“All beings should walk free of fear, with the right to live their lives as they wish.” Tav swallowed hard. “That’s one of the first lines of the Harper Code I learned over one hundred years ago. Moonrise has been seized by fear and darkness for far too long. Unable to grow, unable to sustain life of any kind.”

She turned her gaze to Halsin, giving him another soft smile.

“No more. Today we rid this world of Ketheric Thorm and his blight on this land.”

He saw tears gather in her eyes as she held her chin up a little higher. Her free hand brushed against the small tattoo on her neck.

“Sav-estel ne-emir peth.”

Have faith in my words. Halsin smiled hearing the phrase. Beautifully simple, perfect for their–

A strange glow coming from Tav’s throat startled him. Her tattoo had changed to a luminous, blue-white color, glowing bright among the shadows. He watched in awe as it started to shift from a broken sword into the symbol of the Harpers.

Gasps of surprise carried across the small crowd, followed by murmured words of their own. Halsin saw glowing tattoos of a harp inside of a crescent moon appear all across the skin of the Harpers that had joined them from Last Light.

He had heard rumors that the Harpers magically altered their ordinary tattoos to be a source of identification. Their symbol only showed once the Harper’s chosen code phrase was spoken.

Jaheira watched the scene unfold with a proud grin.

As quickly as it came, the glow subsided, once again leaving them under the cover of darkness.

Line by line, the Harpers and Flaming fist started to fall into position.

“Welcome home, little ranger,” Halsin heard Jaheira whisper to Tav as she took her place toward the front of the company.

Before taking her position on the front line to lead them into battle, Tav turned to face him.

“Thank you, Halsin.” She looked down at their hands one more time before slowly taking hers back.

“Tav, wait.”

Halsin grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her back toward him. He brought his hand up to rest on the side of her neck before placing a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. Her hands came up to clutch at the leather straps on his armor, tugging him closer.

“Just in case,” he whispered after pulling away.

“Well now we have to win.” Tav smiled up at him.

They shared a quiet laugh as Halsin rested his forehead against hers. When they turned around to join their companions they were met with poorly concealed grins and giggles.

“Come on, time to finish what we started a century ago.” She tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

Halsin nodded and took the chance to shift into his bear form, just as he did their first fight together. He nuzzled his face into her palm when she reached forward to scratch his ears.

Tav and Jaheira were at the front of the company with Lae’zel and Karlach. Halsin, Astarion, and Shadowheart followed closely behind them. Gale and Wyll took their assigned positions on the sides. The Harpers and Fists followed in orderly lines, sticking to the designated marching orders Tav had given them.

She led them all to the bridge with moonlanterns lining its length, the way forward into the fortress. Halsin could see the cultists peering across the way, trying to determine what horde could have snuck up on them so easily.

He watched as Tav drew her bow and fired an arrow between one of the cultist’s eyes. The action seemed to stun the others around them, letting Lae’zel and Karlach charge forward with a loud battle cry.

The battle for Moonrise Towers had begun.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 fanfiction #halsin silverbough #halsin fanfic #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #halsin x tav'ahria #oakflower

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neontokyoo · 6 months ago

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Tav comes off as an ordinary human. They do have prophetic dreams or visions sometimes and (accidentally) reveal that they have darkvision, but those could be just human traits from being particularly lucky in the magical department, couldn't they? They have large birthmarks on their back that are shaped like angel wings, but that's just how genetics rolled the dice, it doesn't mean anything, right? Right??? Well, in a particularly heated battle, Tav and another companion, your choice of who, are on different sides of a big river/canyon/something wide enough that jumping across would be difficult if not foolish to try. The companion gets hit pretty bad and Tav, being the protective heroic type with little sense of not taking risks when saving their friends, runs and jumps to get to the other side, danger be damned. When they, somehow, manage to get over without ramming into the shore/wall on the other side, they quickly push the companion out of harm's way and kill the enemy. Only…Tav seems to have grown a few inches? Oh, wait, no, they're just floating a few inches off the ground due to the two massive incorporeal wings coming from their back. They look horrified at the information that everyone in their party now Knows who they really are. Turns out that Tav is actually a Protector Aasimar that just turned level 3 and got their wings. When asked why they didn't tell anyone about this, they basically say that they were so deep in denial that they just hoped it would be proven false. Being an aasimar would mean that they are not just a normal, kind, and quirky human. They are Different, a plane-touched being that the gods decided to bring into the world, a person that would become very interesting to anyone evil who wanted to harm someone specific on the side of good, an object to be revered and possibly be used for magical materials or hounded by those that wanted blessings from such a celestial being. They have had to deal with all of that shit before and just got sick of it, so they did what they could to hide their heritage, denying it to others, but especially to themselves. And now, here they are, surrounded by their party, unable to deny the truth anymore. Tav is terrified, not only of the reactions from their companions, but of how denial was ripped away from them and they now have to confront the reality of their heritage.

Could you give headcanons for the companions reactions to all of this? It doesn't matter how many or which ones you do. This is a platonic scenario, Tav hasn't romanced anyone at this point, but they have gotten close enough with everyone to be considered more than just acquaintances. They are also a paladin, but class doesn't really matter in this scenario.

(sorry for the length, haha)

That was a lot to take in, but I’ll try my best to get all (if not, most) of it 😂

Pairing: Tav x party

Genre: fluff

Summary: ⬆️

Warnings: I need to do my research on certain topics when it comes to the D&D universe, so bear with me. Your girl barely knows her deities 😭😭 (I didn’t do Halsin or Wyll because I’m lazy today. Bear with me. I can add them later 😭)

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart was very confused when it happened. She had no idea what was going on or what just happened.

She didn’t say anything though because she knows what it feels like to keep secrets. *cough* *cough* the relic…..

It was a huge shocker, and it did haunt Shadowheart, but she wasn’t going to force Tav to talk. She figured that if they wanted to talk, they’d go to her.

She wasn’t too upset about it though. If anything, she thought it was cool. It’s not every day your friend grows wings like that.

She wasn’t obsessed with it though. She felt a little bit of understanding with why Tav was hiding this from their companions. She didn’t know the reason, but she did know that they were uncomfortable about other people knowing.

Gale:

Gale was patient, but he definitely wasn’t happy with Tav for keeping such a huge secret from him.

He confronted them, but he did so in the most polite way possible.

He had a little understanding after being able to feel the power radiating from his friend when it happened, but he still felt disappointed.

If they were such good friends why didn’t they tell him earlier???

But he eventually learned to let it go. He learned to respect Tav and their decisions.

Astarion:

Astarion definitely wasn’t happy with Tav at all. They practically knew everything about him, from the Cazador to the scars that were carved into his back.

So why didn’t they tell him? Astarion could feel the power. He knew that it could be used to the party’s advantage. But with how far they’ve come, why in the nine hells would they keep such a huge secret from him?

He most definitely confronted them about it. But he wasn’t as nice as the other companions. He went straight to the point and called them out on it.

This started a huge argument, but he eventually learned to let it go and move on before he ruined your relationship any further.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel was pissed.

This caused a huge fight that would have been a repeat of what happened with Lae’zel and Shadowheart have the other party members not intervened.

Karlach:

Karlach thought that was the coolest thing ever.

She tried to persuade Tav to do it again and show her more.

Tav refused, but she wasn’t pushy about it at all.

She knew they’d come to her when they’re ready.

#karlach #gale #astarion #bg3 #shadowheart #lae'zel #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 tav

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neppyshub · 4 days ago

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The Battle for Moonrise (Aftermath)

Summary: Ketheric Thorm is dead, the wretch. Dame Aylin is free. Isobel is alive. Our adventurers have defeated a general in the Absolute's army. But such a battle, such victories, do not come without a cost. In this story we see the aftermath of the great battle, specifically Ali (Tav) healing and her interactions with two chosen by Selune.

Author's Notes: Hi all! Neppy here, talking real quick about this fic. This fic gently explores how Isobel, Dame Aylin, and Ali (my Tav) might see each other in the aftermath of the Battle of Moonrise. It gently teases some feelings overall, it gives a lot of Two Moon's love (my temp ship name for Isobel x Aylin), and really is a way to write my character at this part of the game, tease their backstory, and explore them/present them for y'all!

It's my first fanfic in a long time so your comments and thoughts are really appreciated! If you want me to explore this further please let me, as I'd love to write it <3 Story below the break.

“You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“...Isobel…”

Ali watched as the chosen of Myrkul, general in the Absolutist army, a leader of Darkness and Loss, then Death, fell to the ground. They cringed as he fell face down, the netherstone embedded in his armor clanking harshly. It was too important. They had to grab it.

Before she could, Dame Aylin, despite her scars and recent rescuing, descended in her beautiful moonlit glory. She landed on Ketheric’s head with a metal boot, her wings spreading outwards gloriously as brain and gore exploded.

“The villain. Is. DEAD!” She continued to stomp on him. One, two, a dozen times. She panted, she gritted her teeth and seethed with hatred. Pain. “The WRETCH! Together we have crushed him, brain and body!”

As Karlach, Shadowheart, and Wyll watched with something akin to horror, Ali just sighed. Their eyes didn’t dare break away. No, they understood all too well Dame Aylin’s pain. What she had gone through. What it took to fly out and fight with the fury and strength she had. What motivated her to push on after a century of enslavement and solitude.

After all, Ali had already experienced so much in their own mortal life. Before this damned tadpole. Before the nautiloid, the Absolute, the war between Shar and Selune, and the threat against Baldur’s Gate. Ali nodded their approval as Dame Aylin looked up, breathing heavily but finally calming down. The mortal warrior wanted to speak- To tell Dame Aylin she was free, yet the expression on the immortal's face stopped her.

“My friend…my ally,” She spoke softly. Ali’s eyebrows knit together with confusion. She hadn’t known Dame Aylin for very long but why did she seem so concerned? Why was her voice so soft?

“By the gods…” Wyll gasped, as Shadowheart used magic to heal a nasty cut on his arm. She looked up and covered her mouth in shock. Ali frowned, turning to Karlach. The tiefling was easily the closest to them. She alone was weirdly able to get Ali out of their usual quiet solitude. To open them up.

“Ali,” Karlach said. That was the real indication things were very wrong. Karlach only used her name in private. Besides that it was always ‘Soldier’. “Put down your sword.”

“Why are you all so panicked? I’m fine,” Ali replied, easily sheathing the longsword, which was coated in Ketheric’s blood.

“Brave warrior,” Dame Aylin said. “You have fought masterfully. Remain calm.”

Ali’s heart began to rise with anger, beating faster as they glared at their companions. Would someone tell her what was wrong? Ali turned that angry look onto Dame Aylin as she approached- Hated that soft and worried gaze on her beautiful face, that it was directed at Ali to begin with. Why were they being fawned over? They killed Ketheric. They drove the blade into his chest, into the god form’s heart, they had survived it all-

“...what…” Ali said meekly as a sudden weakness overtook. The aasimar’s wings flapped once as she suddenly closed the gap between them, catching her mortal ally in her arms as they collapsed.

How gentle, Ali thought as Dame Aylin held them, one armored hand holding the back of her neck, as the dame hooked a firm arm around her waist. Considering how she squashed Ketheric. Ali’s brain felt fogged. The anger and energy had disappeared. A lightheadedness overtook and Ali smirked at the thought they just had. Then they saw it.

In Dame Aylin’s armor they saw the reflection of a person. What was once light olive skin had turned sickly gray. Dark brown eyes were now dazed and bloodshot, struggling to make sense of what they saw. Chocolatey curls, short in length, had begun to fall out in patches. It was themself. Ali. Rotting away like a corpse.

“Fuck,” Ali muttered before the darkness overcame them.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Aylin did not hear as the other mortals called out. Did not hear their suggestions or worry. Did not see Karlach’s tears beginning to well in her eyes. All she saw was Ali’s eyes close. Then she bent down, her wings flexed, and in one powerful movement she launched herself into the air. She did not look back or even think to explain herself. She simply flew as fast as she could. Up and up through the tower, until she was above ground, until she had passed the flesh and guts formed by the mindflayer colony and could see the roof of stone. The warrior of Selune did not hesitate as she protectively curled over Ali, her armored back crashing through the roof as she shot into the sky.

Her mighty wings continued to flap as she flew in place. The cool air reached her skin and lungs. The moonlight enhanced her senses. It brought her comfort. She did not, however, calm down. Time was of the essence. Her eyes scanned the ground for a sign, any sign-

“Victory!”

“We did it! I can’t believe we did it!”

“The battle is won!”

There, far below, she saw the rag tag group that had assaulted Moonrise towers following her freedom. Warriors in red and blue armor, hugging each other, cheering, many mourning the dead or aiding the wounded. Aylin’s eyes scanned the crowd looking for it. She was not sure what but she had felt it. The second she saw Ali’s deterioration, Aylin knew she could save her. Surely, the Moon Mother was guiding her. But what was out here that could help?

“Isobel,” Dame Aylin gasped, her thoughts completely taken away from the dying Ali. For the first time in one-hundred years the chosen of Selune spotted her better half. Alive. Healthy. Her alabaster skin. Her silver hair. The spear Aylin had gifted her so long ago. The robes bestowed upon her as a Selunite cleric. Her Isobel. Aylin truly could have stayed there forever. Watching. Frozen in shock. But she had a warrior’s mind, and as fast as her surprise came it left, understanding that her mother was guiding her to the solution. The warrior looked down at Ali and muttered a quiet promise.

We will save you, my friend, she swore to herself before diving down to the crowd. She seemed like a bullet of light streaking through the cursed shadows of this land. Yet by this point her unknown allies had come to recognize her white flames. To understand that Dame Aylin was a friend of great power. The aasimar initially landed to cheers and claps. Weapons banged on armor. Someone whistled loudly. Normally, she would revel in the recognition of her strength and godhood, but today the towering woman pushed her way through the crowd, knocking fully armored elves over and yelling as loud as she could.

“ISOBEL!”

By the gods. The look her lover gave was almost enough to break Aylin’s heart. Much like she had just experienced, Aylin could see the shock, the panic, and the disbelief in Isobel’s eyes. The struggle to process what was happening. Then Aylin yelled again.

“MAKE WAY!” The demigod ordered with her booming voice. The crowd quieted. They finally seemed to realize she was carrying wounded. Many made calls for medics. For potions. A circle formed around her and a path parted as the cleric, whom all knew by this point, ran to Aylin.

“Aylin, my love, how is this-”

“Isobel,” Aylin cut in, her voice shaking despite herself. “This warrior saved me. We are reunited due to them. Save them.”

Another moment of shocked silence.

“Please.”

This finally seemed to properly snap Isobel out of it. The cleric had never heard Aylin beg. Never. Not with this desperation. This heartbreak. She had a fleeting thought, wondering if there had been a funeral for herself, and if Aylin had sounded so terribly distraught. Then she got to work.

“What is wrong?” Isobel asked as Aylin gently laid Ali down.

“They are rotting away, like a corpse, but were a vision of health not a mere hour ago,” Aylin explained. The crowd remained silent, those that had supplies quickly setting them at Isobel’s sides. Water, rags, a potion, and even a suture kit.

“We fought your father, he had been blessed by Myrkul,” The aasimar continued. “This one dealt the final blow. They ensured my freedom.” If this news shocked Isobel the cleric did not let it show. She had begun to expertly undo the straps to Ali’s scale armor. She felt their forehead. Leaned close to hear their raspy breaths. Aylin watched helplessly.

“Bring me the other cleric- The one who follows Shar, that accompanied this one,” Isobel ordered.

Dame Aylin disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Move- I said MOVE damn it!” The voice came from High Harper Jaheira, who had finally exited from the towers. Blood stained her but it didn’t seem to be her own. Her eyes widened as she saw Isobel’s patient. “Oak Father, have mercy,” she muttered.

“A dagger- I need a dagger!” Isobel yelled. One was quickly handed to her. She could not fix the rot- Not without Shadowheart. Not yet. But Ali had other injuries that would hamper the healing spell- Perhaps even make healing impossible.

The damage was impressive, although if the group fought off a god it was unsurprising. Acid burns coated the left of Ali’s neck. Blood had been seeping out of her side through an arrow wound that had pierced the scale armor.. Two fingers were bent in the completely wrong way. Part of her armor almost seemed melted- Which meant some serious burns on their right leg.

So Isobel did what she could as a dozen or so onlookers observed. She prayed to Selune and pressed her hand to Ali’s neck. Ali groaned in their sleep as the cleric’s hand glowed and the burns slowly healed. Then Isobel, with help from Jaheira, turned Ali over and made a small incision. She broke the arrow shaft protruding from Ali’s side and pushed the arrow through, managing to pull it out. At this point Ali’s eyes fluttered open as they groaned loudly with pain.

“It’s alright- You’re alright,” Isobel immediately said, although she wasn’t certain if this was the truth. “Stay still; You’ve taken a beating.”

“Aylin,” Ali gasped. Her voice sounded like death. “She’s alive.”

This comment was enough to make Isobel freeze, if only for a few seconds. Yes, she already knew that Aylin was alive, even if she was not allowed to process that properly yet. But why would Ali, someone who barely knew either of them, someone who was an inch from death, prioritize this information?

They were on the ground, dying, and still needed to let Isobel know her love was alive. They wanted her to know. Understood the importance of this to her. A stranger. Their eyes met and an unspoken understanding passed between them.

“Be quiet,” Isobel said. “Conserve your strength. I will heal you,” she promised as Ali seemingly slipped back into unconsciousness.

“I’m here!” Shadowheart called out, and Isobel’s head whipped back just in time to see Aylin land in the circle once more. Shadowheart was being held bridal style, arms around the aasimar’s neck, but Isobel couldn’t register an ounce of jealousy. Not after all this. Not with Ali on the ground. “What can I do?”

“Your friend is afflicted by Veridon’s chiller,” Isobel explained. “Otherwise known as-”

“Chill touch, I’m aware,” Shadowheart answered expertly. “I understand the effects.”

Effects was a rather simple way to speak of Veridon’s Chiller. The spell was extremely lethal, rotting away at a person spiritually and physically by filling them with undead energy. Chipping away at their life force. Worse than that: It was extremely simple to cast. And this one had been casted with the power of a god. Ali had a strong will- That of a warrior. But it could not keep them alive forever.

“We will unite our magic,” Isobel declared. “Together, we will purge the infection, and heal your friend's spirit.”

“Is this even possible? With me being a follower-” Shadowheart froze, pain and confusion on her face. This told Isobel everything she had to know. She had sensed a difference in Shadowheart when she approached. She could tell some of the shadows had been lifted. Could feel a comfortable and similar power radiate off the other cleric.

“The Moon Maiden blesses you now,” Isobel said, confirming what might have been Shadowheart’s hope or fear. “Your power does not rely on Shar. It is not at odds with my own.” She took Shadowhearts hands in her own. “I can not do this alone. You must embrace this change, now, to save your friend.”

Three seconds. It took three seconds for Shadowheart’s conflicted feelings to be put aside. One look at Ali and the former follower of Shar became decided. She took a deep breath and squeezed Isobel’s hands.

“Lead the chant,” Shadowheart said.

And she did. Aylin watched on anxiously as her angel closed her eyes and the two clerics lifted their hands. With a voice the dame hadn’t heard in one hundred years, god’s that beautiful voice, Isobel began the chant. Shadowheart’s voice followed perfectly.

The chant ended seconds later. A glow momentarily spread over Ali’s body then disappeared. The crowd waited with bated breath. Three seconds felt almost as excruciating as the century of imprisonment, for Aylin could not accept that her savior would perish. Not like this. Not to Thorm.

“Thank you, mother,” Aylin whispered as, finally, everyone saw the spell begin to work. Hair suddenly grew back. Her skin color returned to normal. Her scratches disappeared and she inhaled a deep and clear breath. Her body relaxed as a deep sleep took over. The crowd cheered as Isobel sat back with relief, and Aylin noticed Shadowheart take Ali’s hand.

It was over. Truly over. Now, they could revel. Victory had been earned.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

It had been days since the battle for Moonrise. In that time, the towers had been properly secured. Jaheira led the Harpers and Flaming Fist in capturing or killing the stragglers. Aylin regularly flew patrols to make sure the Absolute army was not approaching their position. Isobel worked tirelessly with Shadowheart and other healers to not only fix the group of adventurers, but any other wounded. The group that had saved her; Karlach, Wyll, Astarion, and Halsin made sure to help where they could, or rested and waited for their own wounds to heal. Ali had not been the only victim of Ketheric’s strength.

The land had even begun to heal. Deadly shadows still plagued, of course, as Shar would struggle against her influence being torn away. But plants were beginning to grow. Monsters seemed to be less of a threat.

All the while Ali slept. It was anything but restful. They tossed and turned. They mumbled and groaned. One night, they muttered “fuck off” to no one in particular. Their friends took turns by her side. Some, like Karlach and Wyll, would speak to Sol and give updates on the situation. Others, like Halsin and Jaheira, sat silently and busied themselves with some menial chore. Shadowheart in particular spoke a lot. Awkwardly, as if she felt stupid or silly, but constantly finding some topic or story to tell her dear friend.

Then there was Aylin and Isobel. The two women were, understandably, inseparable. Aylin took Isobel on patrol with her and stayed by her side as she worked on the wounded. The two held each other closely as they watched over Ali, when it was their turn to do so. Rarely, they snuck little moments of privacy, but they hadn’t been able to enjoy their reunion to the fullest extent quite yet. Not under the circumstances of war and death. Still, they caught each other up on what had happened. What Ketheric had done to both of them. What the threat of the Absolute was and meant. They tried to plan their next move.

“Why do they sleep so long?” Aylin asked one night, after the couple had relieved Karlach. The tiefling in particular seemed to watch over Ali the most, having not shown the barest trace of a smile since her friend went unconscious.

“I don’t know,” Isobel replied again, although patiently. “The spell used against them was powerful. And my father was powerful.”

“Ketheric was weak,” Dame Aylin said, staring intensely at Sol. But she wasn’t truly watching her. She was lost in thought. In memories of pain. “He used my power, and died the moment he lost it.”

“...”

“He will not kill this warrior. I will not have it,” She continued, then turning to Isobel. “Your healing will work.”

“My love,” Isobel began gently. “We do not know this.”

“My angel, my light, my reason to live,” Aylin responded lovingly. “She will survive. I can sense it.”

“I hope you are right, my sweet,” Isobel answered. She made her way over to Aylin, who was sitting next to the bed which Ali lay in, and leaned down to plant a soft kiss on the taller woman’s lips.

“I hope so, as well."

“Where I’m from, we say ‘I know so’.”

Both women went wide eyed and turned to look at the bed. Ali hadn’t moved an inch, but their eyes blinked. They remained half-lidded, as if they were groggy, weak, or perhaps only half awake.

“Could I have some water, please?” Ali requested. The two scrambled to get them the water. Aylin gently held and lifted the warrior’s head as Isobel put the bottle to their lips, carefully allowing Ali to sip. She wiped a single drop that had dribbled down Ali’s jaw. Both of them waited expectantly for the fighter’s next words.

“I’m glad you two are together again,” Ali rasped. A soft smile spread on her face as she relaxed back into the pillows. A smile of relief, perhaps.

“My friend,” Dame Aylin said. “We cannot thank you enough. We will never be able to thank you enough.”

“What you have done here, for us, for the land, for everyone…it is amazing. It feels impossible,” Isobel continued.

Neither one of them felt that they could say enough. Neither one could find more words. Now that Ali was awake they didn’t seem to know what to do. And so, they sat there. Waiting. Watching as they had been for the past few days.

“How is the group?” Ali asked, their expression turning sour. Worry ate away at them. But not just that, the two selunites realized, expectation. Ali expected bad news. Terrible news. They had already braced themselves, mentally. Prepared for the worst.

“Everyone is fine,” Isobel answered kindly. “You have nothing to worry about. They all wait for news on your condition.”

“Everyone is alright?” Ali asked again.

“Everyone is alright,” Aylin repeated. “You can rest in peace, my friend.”

And Ali did sigh with relief. They seemed to sink into the bedding once more. Their eyes closed as they inhaled deeply, their first conscious breath without blood, or rot, or darkness in quite some time.

“Thank you both for saving me,” Ali added. “In the moment, I had no idea I was hit. I am still not really sure how Ketheric got me. It was a mistake.”

“Ali,” Dame Aylin began, crossing her arms. “You faced a god of death. As a mortal. No godly blessings. No warlock patron. No real magic. And you dealt the final blow. You slayed Myrkul.” Aylin waited a few moments, waiting to see if the magnitude of their achievement would dawn on them, but Ali remained neutral in her expression. “You have made no mistakes. You fought in a way few ever could, or will, and you should be proud.”

“Did the others worry a lot?” Ali asked, their eyes finally meeting Aylin’s. Then Isobel’s.

“Um…yes, of course.”

“Then I am sorry,” Ali added simply. As if this made sense or changed anything. The two white haired women looked at each other, equally confused and unsure. Isobel spoke up, changing the subject.

“Ali, I know you’ve just woken up. You need your rest. But…I have a question,” She began gingerly. Aylin raised a brow, curious. Ali gave a slight nod. “When I was caring for you, right after the battle with my fa- Ketheric. You awoke and told me Aylin was alive.” Isobel looked up at her lover and smiled sadly. “You were dying, you were hurt, you could not have known the condition of your friends and allies. But you made sure to tell me Aylin was alive.”

“If I were to die, I needed you to know that. I needed you to be aware,” Ali explained. “Just in case something insane happened. Or if we were defeated. You would know. You could find her.”

Again, the two women looked at each other. There was confusion. A gnawing question among them both. “With everything happening why- Why would you-”

“Why was that your priority?” Aylin asked softly, interrupting Isobel. The room grew ever silent. Even the work being carried outside seemed to fade away. The question was of no consequence to them now. It did not change their reunion, their love, what had happened to the others or…well, anything, really. But neither of the followers of Selune understood why Ali had cared so much. Neither had believed anyone could understand the importance they felt for each other. Despite this, it seemed Ali did.

“I had an Isobel once,” Ali whispered. They closed her eyes. “Her name was Victoria. She never came back.”

This reply would end the conversation. It struck both women and it struck deeply. Yet there was nothing to be said. No consolation. Not only was it long in the past but both Dame Aylin and Isobel knew that pain, although Dame Aylin could relate more closely. The loss of, not just a lover, but one so perfectly fitted for you. One who has been so close and spent that time with you…to many, it is irreplaceable.

So, both of them quietly sat down on either side of the bed. They allowed Ali to rest. As the wounded warrior allowed sleep to overtake once more, they each made a silent promise. They would aid Ali in their quest. They would protect them. Their grace for what had been done- No, for what Ali understood, would be infinite.

As the night dragged on anyone who was inside the tent, be it the Selunites, or Shadowheart, or Karlach, or even Jaheira coming in for the odd check in, would notice something strange if they only paid attention. Ali’s skin seemed to glow with the faintest white light. And if one were to look outside the tent they had been left to rest in, one might also notice the faintest beam of moonlight shining on the tent.

Ali, asleep, smiled lightly.

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