#also taking this opportunity to proclaim my hatred of the meazel fight forever and always
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blackjackkent · 7 months ago
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Fic request, BG3: Karlach/fem Tav, where Tav has died. After the reserection scroll is used, Karlach goes to pieces. Hurt/comfort.
Eyyyy, ty for the prompt! Sorry this took me a little while to turn around. :D Was fun to write, though; I do love me some Karlach romance and some hurt/comfort. <3 I hope you like!
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“You hear that?” Tav asks. The half-elf’s eyes narrow, glinting in the pale light of the moonlantern that is all that protects them from the cursed shadows. “Hold on a sec.”
Karlach halts obediently with the others and listens intently. Her head tips slowly to one side like a dog pricking up its ears, and her eyes drift half-closed in focus. But there's nothing. 
The shadow-cursed lands are, in fact, eerily quiet. The place is not only devoid of civilization but life - there's no sound of birdsong, no creatures creeping through underbrush, no leaves or plants of any kind. There's not even a stirring of breeze to knock together the dried branches of the long-dead trees. 
Karlach hates it. It reminds her too fucking much of the desolation of the Hells, dead and dry and full of dangers. Not nearly as hot as Avernus, she'll say that much for it, and dark as the inside of her boot. But still a little too close for comfort. 
“Don't hear anything, Soldier,” she says in a low voice. Astarion and Shadowheart both shake their heads as well. Then Karlach grins, an automatic reaction to the brief moment of tension. “Must've been my heart pounding, eh?” 
Astarion rolls his eyes. “Ugh. Gods,” he murmurs tauntingly. “Is that what passes for smooth in Zariel's army?”
Tav grins. “Shut up, Astarion,” she says, giving him a casual punch in the shoulder. 
“I'm just saying,” Astarion quips, “if we're going to have to watch the two of you give each other cow eyes every day of the week, you're going to have to come up with some better material.”
Karlach sticks her tongue out at him. “No one asked you, Fangs,” she shoots back. But she's laughing. It's really hard not to laugh these days, in spite of all the terrible shit happening to them. Astarion can mock all he wants - but she's in love, real love, for the first time in ten years. The first time maybe ever, truth told, because she can't remember any quick fuck back in the Gate that ever made her feel like Tav does. 
Tav is… gentle. Kind. When she touches Karlach it feels like the whole world is opening up to her, a feeling of hope like everything is gonna be okay. So yeah, Astarion can laugh all he wants, if it makes him feel better. Karlach really couldn't give less of a shit. 
She's happy. 
Too happy, as it turns out, because she's so lost in thinking these thoughts and watching the way Tav's smile looks in the lanternlight that she doesn't notice the first arrow coming in. 
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Tav’s scream is like a knife. Blood spatters across the dark ground as the arrow punctures her shoulder. 
A lithe, pale figure darts out of the shadows with a high-pitched giggle and throws something around Tav’s neck. Then in an instant she’s gone, vanished with the creature into thin air.
“Tav!” Karlach starts to shout - but it's choked off as another garrote bites sharply under her jaw and she's yanked backwards into the dark. 
It’s a horrific battle, one of the worst they’ve faced since the nautiloid. The meazels - little shits, every one of them - are quick and cunning, separating the party out into the searing darkness, silencing spells, bleeding them dry. Karlach doesn’t need spells, though, and her usual battle-rage is bolstered by a stunning degree of pain and an entirely unexpected violent panic. 
She wrenches her axe from the corpse of the meazel that grabbed her and tears off through the dark. Unheeding of both the blood pouring from her neck and the necrotic energy chewing into her skin, uncaring of what other enemies might hear her, she bellows at the top of her lungs. “Tav! TAV!”
“She’s here!” That’s Shadowheart, her voice weak. “Karlach, over here!”
Karlach almost trips, so quickly does she change direction towards the cleric’s call. Like a rothe maddened with fear, she leaves the path and crashes directly through the desiccated underbrush, dead plants shattering apart around her with every step.
Tav is dead when she gets there. 
Shadowheart is crouched over her, a useless healing spell in the process of drifting off her fingers. Astarion, blood dripping from his lips, crawls from the darkness opposite her. But Karlach’s eyes are locked on the form of Tav’s body in the dim light from her torch, the eyes blank and staring, the garrote wound flowing freely.
“Oh, no,” she whispers. “No, no, no, no--”
“It’s all right.” Shadowheart’s voice feels oddly far away. “I have a scroll, I’ll revive her-- Karlach, for gods’ sake, breathe!”
She is breathing - too fast, too shallow. The cut at her own throat throbs with each pulse of her heart. She drops the axe with a clang onto the ground and she falls on her knees at Tav’s side, grabbing the smaller woman’s hand and holding it between both of hers. “No, darling, no…” she mumbles. “Gods, don’t-- don’t look at me like that…”
How many dead people has she seen in her life? Could fill a library writing all their names down… But none of them have been her… those blank eyes are so wrong in her face which is always so full of life and humor and warmth… nothing like Karlach’s inferno heat but warmth and safety and home…
“Bring her back…” she rasps out desperately. “Please…”
The magic of the revivify scroll swirls around them as Shadowheart murmurs the words. There’s an achingly long pause during which Karlach finds herself reviewing every single moment of their brief time together and passing through every stage of grief in order; she’s just about reached “depression” when Tav’s eyes flicker open.
“K-Karlach?” she whispers, and then her body spasms around a sudden fit of coughing as she gasps for breath. 
“Oh, gods.” Karlach’s whole body sags with a relief as overwhelming as the grief was. Without thinking, she reaches out and pulls Tav up and into her arms, tight against the heat of her chest. “Oh, fuck… Soldier… Tav… shit…”
The words tumble out, one after the other, and she’s startled to realize that each of them is a sob, raggedly dragging out of her throat between hiccuped, jerky breaths. She’s alive. It’s not over. It’s not over. Oh, thank the gods…
“Hey. Ow. Hey…” Tav mumbles. It’s muffled from how Karlach has her pulled close; her face is sort of squished into Karlach’s shoulder. “It’s all right. Darling, it’s all right, but I can’t breathe.”
“Oh. Right.” She forces herself to loosen her embrace enough for Tav to draw her head back. “You-- sorry. Fuck. You scared me. I thought… I thought…” She can’t say it out loud. The words don’t come out.
“You’re hurt.” Tav gently touches the garotte wound in Karlach’s neck, wiping at the blood there.
“You died!” Karlach says with a sudden, hysterical laugh, flinching backwards. “Don’t worry about me! Just… you just sit there and… and breathe, or whatever, and… oh gods…” The tears blind her.
“Karlach…” Tav sits up in her lap. She’s unsteady, of course, because revivification is a brutal process at the best of times, but her eyes are clear. That hideous blankness is gone from them and they’re full again with the light that drew Karlach to her first. “Shhh.” She cups Karlach’s face gently with both hands and kisses her. “It’s all right… I promise. I’m here. All limbs attached, everything accounted for. And heart very much beating.”
Karlach gives her a watery smile, tries and fails to quiet her choked breathing into something manageable. “I just-- I saw you there… like that… and I suddenly realized… how much shit has gone wrong in my life… how it all changes so fast… but you’ve been good… you’ve been so fucking good, Tav…”
“I’m here. I’m here…” Tav presses her forehead to Karlach’s and draws a slow, shaky breath. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I promise…”
Slowly Karlach begins to settle again, feeling the gentle brush of Tav’s breath on her lips. It’s not over. “You’d better not,” she mumbles.
She realizes suddenly that they’re alone. Shadowheart has taken one of the torches and bodily dragged Astarion off some distance away, leaving them more or less in private. Karlach’s grateful for that; she’s not sure she could handle Astarion’s acerbic wit right at this moment.
“Fuck,” she whispers after a short pause, a little more calmly now. “Sorry, I--”
“Hey. Don’t you ever apologize for anything,” Tav says softly. “Least of all for loving me. You don’t get to say sorry for that.” She kisses Karlach again gently. “You ready to get Shadowheart to clean up that cut?”
“I… yeah. Yeah.” But it takes her a moment to loosen her arms and let Tav out of her embrace. “I do love you,” she says quietly. “So much. And I just got scared as shit about it.”
Tav smiles. “Best kind of scared I know,” she says. 
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