Chapter Text
Lae’zel did snap out of her useless, ignominious state of shock, but not quickly enough. Minthara was right. She should have prepared herself better to face the inevitable, but the sight of Shadowheart injured, nearly beaten already, with blood pouring from her mouth, cruelly pinned shut by She Weeps’ stiletto blade, was simply too much. Her mind had roared, and her body shuddered to a halt, just long enough that their first plan failed. The plan where they simply moved quickly enough to take their way of egress before a real fight started. It was the best case scenario, and Lae’zel let it slip through her fingers because she didn’t like seeing Shadowheart hurt. Pathetic.
Luckily, Minthara had about seven layers of contingency.
Though unfortunately, the next layer was to take the ship. It was Lae’zel’s least favorite of the contingency plans, save one.
She Weeps had cast silence a split second too late to prevent Shadowheart from destroying the portal. Lae’zel could use her ring to conjure another portal, but not for hours. Not unless she was to use her final failsafe and pull herself and the child to the astral. If she did that, she’d be abandoning She Weeps and Minthara, who had helped her get this far—and it would amount to little, Shadowheart and her acolytes would be able to simply follow after her, if they managed to defeat the drow and her shadar-kai company. And that would be more doable if Lae’zel wasn’t here to help. That’s why it would be a last resort. In any case, the silencing spell was currently affecting her too—good thing she barely used magic.
Reaching out, she got a handful of Shadowheart’s hair in one fist and her throat in the other hand, and tried to hold her fast, while also not thinking about how warm and slick her neck felt with the waterfall of blood pouring from the wound on the underside of her jaw.
“Leave her to me!” She Weeps shouted, and that’s when Lae’zel realized that the gith child was running for the upper deck, and Lae’zel was the only one in a position to stop him, the crowded corridor below deck had them stacked on top of each other, impeding movement. The shadar-aki woman twisted thick black cords around Shadowheart’s wrists, her injured hand trembling fiercely as she pulled the cords taut. Satisfied that She Weeps had things in hand, Lae’zel tore herself away, resisting the urge to hurl some threat back their way. She knew Shadowheart could get hurt. No, it was as Minthara had said, she knew that Shadowheart would get hurt. There was simply no avoiding it, but it still made it feel like everything underneath the top layer of her skin was on fire. She took the rickety stairs two at a time and hurled herself onto the upper deck, eyes digging into the winding chaos around her for the gith child.
The upper deck was whirling with blades and shouts, and blasts of shimmering red magic missiles. Just about the only thing that made the battle manageable was that the waters were calm, and the night clear. If there had been even a hint of wind, she imagined that the boat might’ve capsized with the additional friction.
Minthara and three other shadar-kai warriors were beating back the assault, caught off guard, but never truly unprepared, they were putting up an admirable fight. A crash like lightning heralded a vicious strike from Minthara’s flail that sent one acolyte souring clean over the helm and into the mast below.
“YOUR CHARGE IS THERE!” Minthara roared, indicating the far end of the ship, she barely managed to point with her bloodied flail before she was shoved hard and sent sprawling by a big human man in light armor.
Lae’zel had to trust that she and her men could handle themselves, she ran in the direction Minthara had pointed before even turning her eyes towards it, but when she did, she saw him crouched in the dense shadows cast by the sternpost.
She didn’t even turn her head when she heard the first splash. It might’ve been one of theirs or one of Shadowheart’s, thrown over the side. The gith child saw her coming and bolted as soon as their eyes met, then her vision was obscured by the one palm of a mage-hand driving up into her nose. She stumbled backwards, managing to reorient herself around the blow.
A second splash, and she heard Minthara shout something, and her heart sank. That would be the third contingency coming into effect. If they’d already lost enough of their own people that they couldn’t man the ship themselves, Minthara had a strong argument for why they couldn’t simply take Shadowheart’s acolyte’s captive and force them to take the ship back to Baldur’s Gate.
Additionally, Lae’zel had refused to kill everyone, and Minthara had agreed for her own reasons, which left them with the next, dubious layer of contingency.
Lae’zel stopped chasing the gith child, and instead turned to find the nearest acolyte, at the same time that a chorus of wild cries went up around them. All the shadar-kai and Minthara had changed their strategy from trying to subdue and capture their enemies, to simply trying to maim them, as roughly and wildly as they could.
Following suit, Lae’zel identified the same young sorceress who had fled from her earlier that day. She appeared to be a big part of the reason why they were losing the fight, as she let loose a winding gale of magic that almost swept Minthara clean off the ship’s deck. Minthara caught herself on the helm, then struck it with her flail, breaking off a heavy chunk of spiked ironwork that went crashing into the sorceress’ arm.
She flinched and Lae’zel took her chance, the hilt of her sword striking the girl right along her hairline. The dent she left behind in her skull was more than enough to daze her and send her sprawling to her knees. Lae’zel wound up to deal another blow, just in case, but the gith child’s mage hand snatched her sword by the blade and tried to pull her back.
It was just enough, and it was just as well. The contingency after this one was just as bad, but Lae’zel had already resigned herself to having to complete the plan in the most painful way possible. Briefly, she caught Minthara’s eye and saw their Lloth-red glare flash. This was Minthara’s favorite contingency, and the one that Lae’zel strongly suspected she had hoped to contrive, from the beginning.
“ Ad Lapidē !” The sorceress shouted and with a groan Lae’zel felt it take over her. Her muscles felt as unyielding as her steel, her back painfully curved in the odd pose that the mage hand had pulled her into. She still had her sword in her grip, but she couldn’t move it—couldn’t move anything. She could only watch, exasperated, teeth ground together as Minthara was subdued, the remaining shadar-kai on deck was run through, and then to seal their defeat, Shadowheart emerged from below deck. She looked bruised, bloodied and furious, but apparently not too delicate to handle She Weeps on her own.
Lae’zel spared Minthara a look. The excited energy that the drow had briefly betrayed was gone, and her expression had chilled to be entirely unreadable. She’d been very confident, earlier, when she predicted that Shadowheart and her acolytes would take prisoners, at least for one night. If they were to be executed in Shar’s name, it would come at dawn, after a night of interrogation.
Shadowheart’s jaw and mouth was now so swollen from her injury that she wouldn’t speak if she didn’t have to. She clutched a torn bit of black fabric (something that looked like it might’ve come off She Weeps) to her face, gesturing to her acolyte’s in a way that must’ve made perfect sense to them, but for Lae’zel. It was a matter of waiting to see if she behaved how Minthara had predicted she would.
The sorceress, once she was properly upright and no longer rattled by battle, took a look around at her allies and offered a meager “ vos curo ,” but it was clear that this was not her preferred school of magic, as the relief that washed over Shadowheart and her allies was insufficient.
However, it was enough that Shadowheart was able to speak again, “ vos curo ,” her own magic was stronger, but still not quite enough to lead to a full recovery for herself and her battered followers. Shadowheart rubbed the bit of cloth over the underside of her jaw again, but the wound appeared to be fading already, the swelling going down. Still, she looked raw and ragged. “Where is he?”
The gith child ran to her, bursting through the dregs of his own mage hand. He looked like he wanted to fling himself at Shadowheart, but hesitated at the last moment, skidding to a stop just beside her and pinning her with a pleading look.
With a shift in her stance and a raise of her eyebrows, Shadowheart reached out and gathered the child to her, letting him hide his face in her skirts. It felt like she was refusing to look directly at Lae’zel. That was fine. But in return, Lae’zel wouldn’t tear her eyes away from them.
She felt the effects of the spell holding her begin to wear off, but it was too late. One of the acolytes already had her by the arms, and forced her to her knees as soon as her muscles worked again.
Minthara had never indicated to her that there would be a need for either of them to speak, so she just planned to watch in silence and see just how insightful this drow really was. It felt ineffectual and cowardly, to just wait, and it took everything in her not to fight, not to just will her body to rise up and take what was her’s.
She needed to trust Minthara. She couldn’t trust herself, nor could she trust the one she loved most.
“Search them.” Shadowheart did still sound like she was in a lot of pain, but she could speak again. That made her too dangerous to try and attack again—not when she was on alert.
How had her acolytes beaten them? They trembled as they searched their captives. The only one of them who didn’t seem injured or rattled by the fight was the sorceress. A well-trained magic user with a great deal of experience could be a formidable opponent. This one looked young, but she’d still tossed them around like dolls. Was it the same girl who had run from Lae’zel earlier in the day? Maybe she’d performed better here because she had to. There was nowhere to run on this vessel.
They had little on them, by design, but Lae’zel had all her psionic artifacts discovered and taken from her, including her precious rings and the cuff that connected her to Scratch. She doubted that they would have any idea how to use any of them, but it still bothered her deeply to have them taken and put with her silver swords and the few items of value that Minthara had. Aside from that, all they had on their was healing potions.
Lots of healing potions.
Minthara spoke up first, “I’d like to submit myself for questioning, before the githyanki.”
One of the acolytes looked as though their instinct was to move to strike her for speaking, but something about the merest shift of Minthara’s weight towards them, jarred them to stillness and the drow extrapolated. “The gith and I have a wager, you see, and I like to set a high bar for endurance.”
“Why wouldn’t we just question you both at once?” Shadowheart countered mildly, handing off the child to the sorceress, she put a whisper in her ear. Around them, the night sky was churning a little, the first drops of rainfall disturbing the otherwise peaceful weather.
“If you have the means to duplicate yourself, then I suppose you could, but this ship needs attention to sail true, does it not?” Minthara’s grin suggested that she was pleased with the minor ways in which they had managed to inhibit the journey. Lae’zel was not. She had been hoping for an outright victory.
“We’ll make due,” said Shadowheart mildly, her face grew pale and stony. Beside her, the sorceress was speaking softly to the gith child, and Lae’zel was starting to become concerned that she knew exactly what that was about. “I know you, don’t I?” Shadowheart said.
Lae’zel didn’t look up at her, so didn’t realize right away that she was speaking to Minthara.
“Perhaps once,” Minthara purred. “I have to admit, I had always hoped that were we to ever find ourselves in this situation, the roles would be reversed. I am curious to know what’s underneath all of this .” Her lips pulled into a cruel smile.
Almost, Lae’zel let out a groan. She ought to have predicted that Minthara would resort to some intentional goading, but she wasn’t so sure about her calculations. Shadowheart was obstinate and withdrawn when she wanted to project disinterest, and Minthara had just challenged her to be disinterested. Lae’zel didn’t want that.
She wanted Shadowheart to feel something.
She wasn’t entirely surprised when Shadowheart turned away from Minthara, refusing to take the bait. Her eyes fell on Lae’zel instead, her expression guarded and furious. She held out a hand towards the gith child, beaconing him to come closer.
Lae’zel’s chest tightened. No, no, no. Not yet. Tend to the wounded first. But the whole crew was still, coiled like snakes, still anticipating the fight they’d won. They must have thought themselves well out of reach on the water, and the sudden attack was even more jarring than they’d intended. Lae’zel ground her teeth. It wasn’t good enough of an advantage to succeed outright. They had fumbled their best shot, and these contingencies felt so much riskier now that Lae’zel was on her knees and unarmed.
“You see her? Who does she look like?” Shadowheart parted the boy’s hair with her fingertips.
“Like me,” said the gith child softly.
“Yes. She feels like you too, on the inside.” Shadowheart couldn’t seem to look at Lae’zel straight on for longer than a heartbeat or two. Lae’zel hoped that was a good sign, that some part of her was still suffering, still connected enough to herself to hurt. “Have you ever hurt your little fingers before?”
The boy nodded.
“How?”
“Shut door. It was an accident,” he grumbled.
“This will not be an accident.” Shadowheart rubbed his little hand in hers, then turned to the sorceress and took her quarterstaff in hand. “Orla. Hold her hand out on the deck.”
Orla nodded, as she bent down to obey, the acolyte holding Lae’zel untwisted her wrists from behind her back so that Orla could flattened her palm against the deck. Lae’zel braced herself as the quarterstaff came down with a violent crack against her fingers. The pain wasn’t immediate, but washed over her in a nauseating wave over the next several seconds.
The gith child flinched, his eyes wide on Lae’zel, looking for a pain reaction, it seemed. She instead offered him a subtle shake of her head.
Children of gith do not show weakness .
“She’s very strong, isn’t she?” Shadowheart asked the boy, who nodded. “Would you like to try?” She offered him the quarterstaff.
“Doesn’t it hurt her?”
“Of course.”
The gith child gripped the quarterstaff, not quite hard enough to stop his hands shaking. His fingers didn’t even wrap all the way around the weapon. Lae’zel could see his eyes moistening, refusing to take in his surroundings or make eye-contact with anyone, just snagged in the air in front of him like he was afraid to close them, but also didn’t want to see anything.
“Be strong.” Lae’zel murmured under her breath in the same moment that Shadowheart said the same thing, much louder. This was not going exactly according to Minthara’s plan, but out of the corner of her eye, Lae’zel could see that the drow was not betraying any concern at all, so Lae’zel wouldn’t either. She would not be the reason that they failed.
The gith child squared up in front of Lae’zel, but continued to hesitate with every small movement. Lifting the staff was difficult, aiming put him off balance, and when he finally brought the rod down, it simply wasn’t hard enough. Even being on the receiving end of the blow, Lae’zel wished he could have struck her harder. She knew from experience that it would be doing her absolutely no favors to start out easy—that would just motivate her torturers to make up for it later.
“Do be serious.” Shadowheart’s careful, practiced demeanor slipped for a moment and Lae’zel caught a glimpse of the person she must become when instructing her acolytes. She checked herself with a slight shake of her head, rubbing at her face. She was still hurt, Lae’zel noted. She needed to heal herself soon. “I know you can hit harder than that,” she said a moment later, more gently.
The gith child was even more drawn out with his second attack, but it landed a lot harder and more firmly against Lae’zel’s hand, and didn’t bounce, but stayed planted against the throbbing limb where it fell.
She managed to catch his wide, troubled eyes, and tried to convey some reassurance. It’s all right. I’m not mad. Do what you have to do.
Either because he understood, and took some reassurance in her look, or because it was just that easy to harden oneself to empathy when faced with encouragement towards cruelty and praise for obedience, the gith child struck a much firmer blow the next time. Lae’zel felt some of the little bones of her hand crack, and then the next blow ground them to pebbles.
Soon, the gith child was relentlessly beating her, until both her hands were swollen and nearly numb with pain and his own hands shook around the staff. Beside him Shadowheart grew stony, neither giving approval, nor instruction. It was like she was a million miles away.
Lae’zels hands were twitching, useless. She doubted there was a single intact bone left in them.
“Enough,” Shadowheart finally stopped the boy, long after his own hands were trembling around the weapon. “You did so well.”
Shadowheart stepped forward, holding out a potion of healing. The ruby liquid glittered under the grey moonlit fog of the rainy night. It was one of the bottles they had taken off Minthara.
For the briefest instant after uncorking the bottle, Shadowheart tipped it, as though about to pour the contents onto Lae’zel’s broken hands. Then, she brought it up to her own lips and drank instead.
Through the buzz of pain, Lae’zel had to suppress the urge to exhale in perfect satisfaction.
Shadowheart chugged, a line of red overflowing from the corners of her perfect lips to draw a slow red ribbon down the vertical valleys of her throat. She faltered, perhaps noticing the taste.
“W-what?” She stumbled back, spitting, but it was too late. They could all see it in her wide, green eyes, the noblestock had taken her. “Is that…?”
“Healing.” Lae’zel purred through her teeth. “We’re healing you.”