Chapter 1: the old yearning will return, and you will darken my door
Chapter Text
Tav inhaled deeply and reached a steadying hand against the stone wall of the alleyway. The air was stale with a hint of dead fish from the nearby docks and a swirl of spilled beer and urine. The moment of rest did nothing to soothe the anxieties knotted and roiling in her stomach. It was easy to steady herself out in the wilds, with crisp air that lightened her chest and sharpened her clarity. This city air provided no such respite.
She hadn’t been back to Baldur’s Gate in years. Not since they buried the Netherbrain. Or, well, a few times scattered through the first months that followed. There were too many things assaulting Tav’s senses. She was used to walking alone, spending nights here and there with survivors in too-small villages or with monks in near-empty monasteries. There weren’t buildings to shield the moonlight. She could hear and see everything out in the wilds – the shadows weren’t daunting. The singing and shouting of the taverns deafened her, busy people moving in and out of her vision distracted her, and the shadows looked to engulf her. Maybe she wanted them to.
It had been easy to blur distant memories when she didn’t see familiar walls, shop windows, street corners. But now those memories lunged back into focus. Her laugh lifting above that of their friends. Holding her palm to Tav’s lips, kissing as the pain subsided. Looking for shadows dark enough for a stolen moment – just the two of them. It had been easy to silence the lingering emotions that threatened to squeeze through Tav’s ribcage when she wasn’t everywhere.
Guilt settled itself in her chest, right where her pendant should lay. But something else tugged at her heart, feelings Tav had thought she buried. Tav steeled herself, conjured fresher memories. Cries of fathers holding their dead sons, songs of grief sung by monks bathed in moonlight, the desperation of a grandmother pleading with Tav to find her granddaughter taken under a new moon. She was here on a mission – for Selune, for her faithful, for her people. She must let go of her past sins; she couldn’t let her past with her get in the way of the daunting task ahead. She felt a burn where her Harper pin usually rested, pinned to her collar and tucked under layers of clothes.
She forced her feet to move and kept her eyes on the moon, following its guiding light. Who knew when she would see it again, when she would be able to feel Selune’s radiance again. She and Jaheira had spent months trying to figure out a way to deal with the growing Sharran church in Baldur’s Gate. It had flourished under its new leadership. Tav was going to infiltrate their ranks, her ranks. Pretend to embrace Shar’s darkness. Figure out the plans Sharrans had, her plans. Report back to Jaheira and figure out an angle to take down the growing threat. To take down the Mother Superior herself.
Many Harpers had been assigned this task – simple enough, they had undercover agents in Nine-finger’s guildhall, Ravengaard’s Flaming Fist, probably in the frontline of the Blood War in the hells. Jaheira had her hands everywhere. But every Harper sent to the House of Grief was returned to Jaheira, either with a wiped memory and a blade intended for her heart, or dead.
Tav was their last chance, their best chance. She had been trained as a monk under the Order of the Blue Moon and had been practicing stilling her mind against invasions and charms since she was little. Jaheira had pushed her to the absolute limits of her abilities the last few months, in preparation.
Tav played with the one of the three rings on her hand as she walked, an amethyst set in a silver band on her left pinky. She had called in several favors to the God of Ambition to get these rings. Three rings, three enchantments to aid in the mission. This one, a ring of true polymorph. Gone were her pale grey skin, her angular cheekbones, her straight, silver hair – gifts from her drow mother. Her softer human features from her father –full lips and her large, awkward nose (fleshy, as Lae'zel had put it)– also erased. They’d been replaced with the ivory skin of a high elf, long chestnut locks, a sharp and severe face. Her purple irises remained unchanged, the same color as the amethyst set in the ring. She had spent weeks in the Underdark trying to find the exact shade necessary for the spell. Jaheira had worried about the spell’s limitation, that she would recognize Tav’s eyes after all this time. Tav took the risk, unconcerned. Their connection had always been a game to her, never love. Tav’s eyes wouldn’t haunt her… not like hers had haunted Tav.
Tav considered the two other rings on her right hand. One was silver with a square amber setting on her middle finger. It contained a single cast of sunbeam, for emergency use. The other was a plain, copper band on her ring finger. It contained highly concentrated extract of noblestalk in case her mind would fail her during the Sharrans’ tests. The rare fungus had memory restoration properties and had meant more weeks spent traversing the Underdark. The activation of each of the rings required a passphrase: look for her light, watch always for the dawn, love under her moon. Harper creeds and hymns to the Moonmaiden, not likely to be said aloud in a Sharran enclave. Gale had bound the rings to Tav’s hands with a curse; she couldn’t take them off even if she wanted to.
But perhaps more important than her monastic tradition and the powerful rings infused with godly magic, she had motivation. She had seen the wickedness the Mother Superior had wrought, had held the bodies of slain Selunites. Her soul ached with desire to avenge her fallen people and her Lady of Silver, and her heart held the sins she had to atone for. Tav knew more of the Mother Superior than anyone – her secrets, her path, her tells. The Mother Superior was only the monster she had become because of Tav.
Tav sucked in her breath. The last time she had been in Baldur’s Gate, she had gone to the House of Grief to see the Mother Superior. Under much different circumstances, four months after the fall of the Netherbrain. And now she followed her path back to darken it’s door again. Back to see Mother Superior, back to see Shadowheart.
Stepping onto the porch of the House of Grief, Tav hesitated, her hand hovering before the door handle. She closed her eyes, grabbed the handle, and opened the door. An elf stood at the reception desk and gave her a soft smile and pitying eyes. The room hadn’t changed since Tav was last here, and for a moment it looked the same as it had years ago. Her mouth was dry, her feet frozen. Shame begged her to turn around, as desire and anticipation screamed at her to approach the desk. She was so close to her.
Stop. Focus. She was no longer that weak-willed woman; things were different now. Tav forced her heavy feet to step up to the desk.
“Welcome to the House of Grief. It is so late, you must be terribly burdened. How can we help with your troubles?” The woman’s voice was soothing, welcoming.
Jaheira had prepped her for this. Sharran recruitment had been heavy in the years since the Absolute. People came from all over to relieve their sorrows and grief, and the following had grown exponentially. The Church of Shar prospered. Those ready to join said the magic words – the phrases were easy enough to find. The rest of the initiation process remained secret.
“I wish to praise the Singer of Night,” Tav said steadily, or so she thought.
The woman dropped her veneer of comfort and raised an eyebrow as she looked Tav over. A blushing newcomer seeking the Lady’s graces? She would never make it through initiation if it took all her courage just to get through the door.
After a few moments, the woman led her to the door in the back and instructed her to sit on a stone slab in the middle of the room. She watched the woman’s mocking smile disappear behind the door as it swung shut, locking Tav inside the room alone. She sat on the slab and faced the mirror. The first time she’d come here, Shadowheart sat where she sat now. Before that day, Tav had believed there was a way to save Shadowheart, to pull her back from Shar’s clutches. But after passing through the secret mirror, Shadowheart had solidified her fate. There was no turning away from Shar after that.
How quickly her mind unfocused, her stillness interrupted by waves of the past. She wished she could see the moon or whisper a prayer to Selune. But she didn’t dare, not here.
As if a strong wind had passed through the room, the torches went out. The darkness that remained wasn’t typical. Her darkvision, the only gift her drow ancestors would give a half-breed like her, was of no use. Goosebumps raised on her arms. It was cold, all-encompassing darkness. She let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, the anticipation building. She was close.
She felt a figure next to her, facing the opposite direction, as Viconia had sat next to Shadowheart.
“What brings you to the House of Grief?”
Tav stiffened and her breath caught in her throat. It was her. This was her voice. Tav felt the room spinning. She had to be careful – she could not lie. Not to her, she would know.
“I…I want to step into darkness. To be embraced or felled by it.” A hidden truth, rearing its ugly head as soon as she got to Baldur’s Gate. A part of her still wanted her darkness. Would Shadowheart embrace her, even now? After all these years? After the things she had done?
“Should you be embraced, what would you do?” The figure stood. Tav felt the rush of cold as the darkness took its place over the stone slab. She rested her chin on her chest, curling in on herself. She took another steadying breath.
“I would accept my pain, beg for punishment, and lose myself in it.” Tav could remember staring into those green eyes, could feel her chest and hips pressed against her own, those lips pulling the breath from her lungs. Each time Tav returned, Shadowheart dismantled her, piece by piece. At the end of the night, Shadowheart would put her back together, but she’d always kept pieces of Tav for herself. Tav had always left feeling she was leaving parts of herself behind.
“And if you are felled?” Tav wished that Shadowheart would have let her go. Released the pieces of her heart back to her. But she hadn’t, and so here she was.
“Then I submit to loss.”
Tav felt a finger underneath her chin, slowly tilting her head upward. Everything remained dark, except the figure was growing clearer. A tight black robe with a plunging midline. A long braid of black hair. The lips and nose of the figure were covered, but she didn’t need them to confirm what she knew to be true. Tav eyes locked onto her green eyes, speckles of brown throughout the irises. Something flashed in those eyes, fleeting, and they quickly recovered their steely glare.
Holy hells. Maybe Tav wasn’t ready for this. In the wilds, Shadowheart was abstract, a projection on which Tav could apply any adjective or place blame for anything. But here, so close to her, Tav couldn’t hide, and her screaming heart couldn’t be silenced. Despite all she had witnessed, Tav still yearned for Shadowheart. In the dark, in the quiet, she was laid bare as she had been all those years before.
Her thoughts raced. She forced herself to keep her eyes locked on Shadowheart’s, to not betray her fear. She wondered what Shadowheart was reading in her eyes, her face.
“What is your name? What brings you to Shar’s embrace?”
“My name is Aria.” A half-truth. It was her mother’s name, passed onto her in the fashion of drow culture. She had never told Shadowheart her parent’s names or what had happened to them. Tav wouldn’t have been able to bear what Shadowheart had thought of the tragedy that had befallen the Selune temple that night.
“And I come to relieve myself of my grief. I…I lost my love, my heart, in the crisis of the Absolute.” Exactly what she had practiced with Jaheira.
Shadowheart said nothing, her silence baiting Tav.
“I thought I could get over it, grow past it. But I haven’t. And I don’t think I will.” Tav snapped her mouth shut and bit her tongue. Too much honesty.
“Our Lady does not have room in her cloister for weakness.” Shadowheart bore down on her. Tav could smell lilac – the same perfume, after all this time.
Tav could feel her palms beginning to sweat. She cast down her eyes, breaking under Shadowheart’s piercing glare. “Please. I will do anything to prove myself to you, to the Dark Lady. I will give it all up to feel apathy. To feel absence.”
“Well, then,” Shadowheart said in a low voice. “We will see how you fare.”
She suddenly clutched Tavs chin, fingers pushing into her jaw. She craned Tavs neck up and bent down so Tav’s face was inches from hers. Lilac pushed into Tav’s lungs. Her cheeks burned where Shadowheart’s fingers lay. After a moment’s hesitation, she looked into Shadowheart’s eyes and found a touch of softness.
“You have the most beautiful eyes,” Shadowheart almost whispered.
It was over as quickly as it had begun. A bag was forced over Tav’s head, and a crack resounded as something collided with her skull. Everything went black.
Chapter Text
“Acceptance. Tolerance. Compassion. All beings are equal; life is precious. Trust in my radiance. All love bathed in my light shall know its blessing.” Tenets of Selune
“Secrecy. Cruelty. Wickedness. Love is false and fleeting; only through loss do we fully realize. Trust in my darkness, and quench the light that blinds you.” Tenets of Shar
Tav curled up in the corner of her cell. She closed her eyes and opened them, but nothing changed. Darkness enveloped her. Impenetrable darkness.
She had awoken in her cell days ago. Her clothes were gone, her fingers broken, likely in an attempt to pull her rings off. She had reached up to feel her nose – still the slight, elven nose of her mask. The curse had held, the polymorph stayed, and her rings remained. Tav had reset the broken fingers herself, biting down on her forearm to keep from screaming as she clicked the bones into place. She didn’t dare make a sound. She took stock of the swelling in hopes that it would help her judge the passage of time.
Occasionally, she’d hear the door open. She never heard footsteps, but hands would grab her upper arms and pin her down. Water would splash onto her face. She would lap up as much as she could, and then she would be left in darkness. The water had a bitter taste, indicating that it was laced with something. There were no effects yet.
Was this initiation? Had Shadowheart seen through her disguise? Tav’s mind raced to come up with answers, but she didn’t dare ask the voiceless figures that brought her water. She resolved herself to appear willing, compliant, and quiet. The only way out of here was through a performance of faith.
Tav kicked herself for how quickly she had come undone seeing Shadowheart. A single line, a moment of eye contact – it was all Tav needed to regress. All the work she’d done, burying these parts of herself, convincing her heart to stop its song. And where had it led her? To a false confidence that she could do this mission, that she could directly defy Shadowheart and deny the hold the woman had over her heart.
Tav allowed herself to swear aloud – just once. She felt so stupid, having given her whole heart to a Sharran. Shadowheart had told her not to, and she’d done it anyway. She needed to reclaim it. For the Moonmaiden. For all those Selunite children whose parents were sacrificed. For the Selunite monks who raised her when she was alone. For her own soul, may Selune have mercy.
She resolved herself to not think about Shadowheart, but it was getting more and more difficult with each passing minute. She was cold. She was alone. She hated the company of her thoughts.
Tav couldn’t believe she was sitting with a group of people such as this. Yet here they sat, united by a wriggling worm in the back of their skulls. The moon hung low in the sky while the fire roared. Karlach was gesturing widely, talking about a devil she had destroyed with her bare hands, and the flames seemed to dance with the ebbs and flows of the story. Tav looked at each of new companions. Wyll and Gale were watching, enamored. Even Lae’zel was paying attention. Astarion gauffed and sighed, pretending to be bored. Tav could see through him, she saw how his eyes widened when Karlach got to the part where she ripped the orthon’s head off. Tav herself was engrossed, but something itched the back of her mind. She looked over at Shadowheart’s closed tent.
Tav had always been friendly and personable, if not a bit awkward and shy. She did the best she could, given her best friends as a child were religious monks. They were children of Selune, and by the decree of their goddess, they took in everyone in need. Including six-year-old Tav.
And in the spirit of her goddess and her openness, Tav had picked up everyone she had come across that lived through the Nautiloid crash. She could claim this task entirely in the name of her Lady of Silver, but that was only a partial truth. There was a part of Tav that was excited to have people around after a lifetime of loneliness. It had been a challenge to get those old elven monks to crack a smile, though she managed. And in the years after she left the monastery, she encountered tragedy after tragedy. The feeling of grief had settled in Tav’s bones, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had told a joke or shared a story.
But now, she was surrounded by people with interesting stories, complex emotions, and twinkles in their eyes. These people laughed loudly and often, and they shared that laughter with Tav. The thought that maybe they could be her friends delighted her. Tav felt lighter in the last three days than she had in years. Even with the worm threatening to break tentacles out of her skull.
Shadowheart was decidedly not delighted by the new additions. Every new person Tav allowed back to camp earned her a lecture from Shadowheart.
Gale? “Talks too much. And really, a wizard? He isn’t even good at magic.”
Wyll? “Egotistical and foolishly idealistic. He is going to run into a hag’s den to save some plain damsel and get us all killed.”
Astarion? Well, maybe Tav deserved that lecture. He did threaten to slit her throat when they met. But he hadn’t! And he turned out to be quite charming. He certainly made Tav laugh.
Lae'zel? Tav would never hear the end of letting Lae'zel join their camp. “Untrustworthy. Violent. Impulsive.” The githyanki had more knowledge of mind flayers and ceremorphosis than anyone, which gave them a cure more promising than any other lead they had found. Shadowheart was ever the pragmatic, yet she’d demanded that Tav ditch their best chance at survival. Tav suspected there was more to this, but she had learned better than to ask.
Shadowheart was distrustful, secretive, everything that Tav wasn’t. But there was something alluring about her. And so Tav put up with the lectures each night at camp.
Tav had attempted several times to talk to Shadowheart, and was met with a dense wall of resistance each time.
“Shadowheart, I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Which is to say, you would like to pry a little?”
“Uh…I mean, no? But yes?”
“You do seem the type. Let a girl have her secrets”
Each time, she gathered the courage to ask Shadowheart a question about her life, her family, her hobbies, hells, even her favorite color, she was promptly shut down. Shadowheart would serve her a tongue lashing, leaving Tav’s mouth agape and face red with embarrassment. After one particularly tough conversation, Karlach had slapped Tav on the shoulder and laughed. “Maybe next time, solider.”
Tav swore she saw Shadowheart’s mouth turn up slightly at Karlach’s comment, an almost smile. So she persisted.
“Maybe you should have let her keep her secrets.”
After a particularly rotten day of carving through gnolls and surviving fire thrown by Zhents after Astarion attempted to steal their cargo, Tav walked up to Shadowheart’s tent. Shadowheart had yet to eat dinner with the others, choosing instead to dine alone in her tent. Tav came bearing a full plate as a peace offering.
Shadowheart’s arms were crossed and her face turned sour when she saw Tav walking toward her. Not a great sign.
She launched right in once Tav approached. “You should have been more careful who you confide in and who you have let waltz into our camp.”
“Shadowheart, we have spoken about this. We need allies.” Tav let out a sigh. She wished they could have an easy conversation.
“No, Tav,” she spit out Tav’s name like poison from her mouth. “We need a healer. What we have is a devil, a vampire, and a gith – hardly allies. And yet, you continue to waste our time.”
“We are working on it and have made progress. We have several leads. Halsin, the goblin priestess, and the procedure that Lae'zel propo-”
Shadowheart put up her palm, cutting Tav off. “Then we should be chasing those leads. Yet, we gather around a campfire like children. You giggle and gossip like a little girl with people who would never give you the time of day if they didn’t have a parasite eating away their brain.”
Shadowheart didn’t let up. “I can smell your desperation across the camp, Tav. Focus. We are not your friends. We don’t want to be your friends. We want a solution. And your blind faith in strangers and childish desire for connection will get us killed.”
Tav recoiled from her venom. Anger bubbled in her throat. “And what would you have me do, Shadowheart? Sulk in my tent at night to avoid any sort of meaningful connection? Brood in the corner and pretend to look at murals while a child is threatened? Kill a woman who has access to more knowledge about ceremorphosis than anyone because of legends and tall tales about her people?”
Tav huffed and lowered her voice. She had been yelling, and likely the entire camp had heard. “I released you from that pod when every minute counted. Do not resent me when I extend that same kindness to others.” Tav dropped the plate on the stool next to Shadowheart’s tent, turned heel, and stormed off. She didn’t bother to wait for a reply or cruel remark. Tav had thought herself stoic and strong willed, but her anger was giving way to hurt quicker than she would have anticipated.
They camped along a river bank. It provided access to fresh water and fish, and protection from ambush by goblins. It had become a nightly ritual for Tav to sit in the sand near the bank. Her knees were open, and she wrapped her arms around them loosely, her hands clasped in front of her. Her long silver hair fell down her back, out of its usual ponytail. She removed her shoes so that her toes just touched the top of the tide. She whispered prayers to the Moonmaiden as the tide gently lapped at her feet. The moon never answered directly, but the water rising to meet her feet and the wind rustling through her hair made her feel less alone.
She heard nearly-silent footfalls, hesitant and light. Moments ago she was bathed in the light of the moon, but now a shadow grew around her until Tav was covered in darkness.
“May I sit?” Tav hadn’t heard Shadowheart speak this way before. Quiet, reserved. Gone were her bite and her wit. Tav shrugged. Shadowheart sat down next to her and hugged her knees to her chest. It was quiet for a moment, as they both looked across the river. The moon’s light reflected back on the water and seemed to dance across the flowing surface.
Shadowheart sighed, and Tav detected a slight shake in her voice. “I realized I never properly thanked you for rescuing me from that pod. You used precious seconds to save my life. I can’t think of anyone who would have stuck their neck out for me like that, let alone for a stranger.”
Tav kept her eyes on the water, but out of the corner of her vision she saw Shadowheart turn to her. Her green eyes lingered on Tav’s eyes, searching for something.
She continued. “And I…regret the things I said. You are different than anyone I have ever known. You are kind and accepting. You give freely and ask for nothing. Those aren’t things I grew up around.” She turned her face downward, her eyes locked on the sand.
“Saving that tiefling child, promising those refugees you would help them, running into a burning building to save the father of man you met days ago – those aren’t ideas I would have given a second thought. But you…” Shadowheart let out a short laugh. “It’s a type of courage I don’t have. But you do. And I am glad to be by your side while you save others. I am glad I get to help you and protect you, even though I am bad it.”
Tav turned her head and waited for Shadowheart to look up at her. Tav could see the shame in her face, and her eyes held embarrassment and… fear?
Tav broke out into a grin. “Is this telling me you want to be my friend, Shadowheart?” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and pushed Tav away, her palm at Tav’s bicep and her elbow extending almost imperceptibly. She smiled back, just barely, a twinkle in her eyes.
“I suppose you will do. Gale talks too much to catch any good gossip, and Wyll is too tight lipped.” She paused again, her eyes falling back to the sand. “I… I don’t know that I have ever had a friend. I don’t think I will be very good at it,” she said in a whisper.
Tav slipped her hand on top Shadowheart’s. It was soft, smooth. Tav’s palms were rough and calloused from her years of farming and hard labor combined with wielding a quarterstaff. Embarrassed, she considered pulling away. As if Shadowheart sensed a flinch, she laced her fingers with Tav’s. Shadowheart smiled up at her.
“We can learn together.” Tav said softly and returned the smile. Shadowheart bit her lip, holding something back. Instead of responding, she slid closer to Tav and bumped her shoulder.
Shadowheart froze in place, her mouth slightly open as if about to say something, her body mid-sway from pushing Tav. Tav looked around. The tide had stopped flowing, the reflection of the moon was still, the tall grasses were angled but not whipping with the breeze. Tav pushed herself to her feet. “Shadowheart? Shadowheart!”
“Dwelling on the past again, my dear?”
Tav whipped around to the voice. There stood Shadowheart – but different. She was wearing her Dark Justiciar armor. Her raven bangs framed her face, and she held a large spear in her hand. Her face was twisted, a mocking smile on her lips. But it was her eyes, their endless black, that urged Tav to take a step back.
This Shadowheart walked toward the Shadowheart sitting on the ground. She looked down and clicked her tongue. “It feels like lifetimes ago, doesn’t it?”
Tav stood still and said nothing. Something was very wrong. The voice coming from the new Shadowheart was deeper, more ominous. It echoed into her very soul.
The dark-eyed Shadowheart looked up at Tav and her smile grew wider, more twisted. When Tav looked into her eyes, it was like peering into an abyss. Into nothing.
“My darling Tav,” The figure walked closer to her “You were always so easy to fool.”
Another step toward Tav. “Did you think that this was real? That it wasn’t all a game?” Another step. Tav tried to back away, but her feet stuck in the sand.
“You can’t escape me, Tav. I ruined you. You are broken.” Another step. Shadowheart was inches from her, her black eyes locked on Tav.
“You can play the hero all you like, but you let me ruin you.” She lifted her hand and it hovered above Tav’s cheek.
“In fact, you begged for it.” Her hand cupped Tav’s cheek. And then there was nothing.
Tav coughed. She was choking, her heart was racing, everything was black. She couldn’t see. She reached out in all directions, disoriented, and could find nothing to grab onto.
She blinked several times rapidly and pressed her hand to her sternum. After a few moments, she remembered herself and where she was. Shar’s prison. There was no escape, not even through her dreams.
She stood up for what felt like the first time in days. Her head felt dizzy – when was the last time she’d had a meal? She couldn’t sit still. Tav took a few tentative steps, hands out in front of her as she noted the distance between walls. After a making a few laps, she dropped her hands, relying entirely on the rhythm of her feet. Tav walked. Around and around and around.
It hadn’t been a game. It hadn’t. It couldn’t have been. Tav had to believe that it was real at one point, even if Shadowheart didn’t choose Tav. Even if Tav hadn’t meant as much to Shadowheart as she did to Tav, Tav didn’t just give her heart away for nothing. There had to have been something.
Tav conjured images of Shadowheart’s soft smiles. Shadowheart reached for her hand, and she could almost feel the ghost of her gentle touch. Shadowheart held Tav in the early light, and she could feel the fresh dawn in her lungs. Her dark eyes and twisted smile loomed over Tav.
No. Around and around and around. More paces.
Would it be better to think it was all a game – that Shadowheart never cared for her? Would that break Tav’s heart enough to move on?
Around and around and around.
Did she want to move on?
Tav stopped, her weight sagging as she leaned back against the cell wall. She sighed, slid down the harsh stone and collapsed. She put her heads in her hands.
They had been walking for eight days, making the two week journey to the abandoned temple of Selune and gathering place of the Absolute. Eight days and no signs or symptoms of ceremorphosis. Each night, Gale and Lae'zel put their heads together to consider the possibilities, discussion quickly blooming into arguments which devolved into one-sided threats. The next day, all would be forgotten and the cycle started again. Tav was just pleased to have her mouth intact, no tentacles sprouting yet. And she was happy Lae'zel and Gale had each other to talk to about the intricate, excruciating, and disgusting details of what could happen to them rather than telling her. Last night, as Gale thought aloud hunched over the table, Tav could have sworn she saw Lae'zel lean over and smell him. She shared a secret smile with Shadowheart, who had begun eating dinner with the rest of them and even spent a few nights up late with Tav talking and laughing.
The Risen Road had been littered with discarded corpses of goblins, traders, and adventurers. In the last few hours, the number of dead bodies had increased exponentially. Lae'zel and Astarion scouted ahead, only to return 30 minutes later squabbling over who could kill more targets. They reported a destroyed and decrepit town, abandoned years ago, with new goblin inhabitants. Not enough numbers to be the location they were looking for. Tav was relieved to see that Lae'zel wasn’t concerned, but rather excited to see some action.
Astarion and Lae'zel charged forward, both eager to prove themselves the stronger fighter. Karlach tore off after, not wanting to be left out of the fun. Wyll and Gale exchanged a glance and gave chase, so it was up to Tav and Shadowheart to be responsible. Shadowheart seemed content to hang back and let them play their games, and Tav was more than happy to join her.
They walked in the forest together for a few moments of precious silence. The breeze tossed Tav’s hair, and she took a few moments to appreciate walking in the sunshine. It was Shadowheart who spoke first, breaking the silence. Tav tried to hide her shock; this was unusual even in the recent days.
“Suppose I turn – what would you do?” Shadowheart asked playfully, as if setting up a joke. But Tav heard a strain in her voice – Shadowheart must have been thinking seriously about this possibility.
Tav hummed thoughtfully and put her hand on her chin, faux thinking and playing along with the joke. “I suppose I could tie you up, restrain you while I try to find a cure.”
“Ha! As if you could catch me. I’d just kill you.” Shadowheart said confidently, a smile playing on her lips. “Stop thinking about excuses to tie me up. Try again.”
Tav blushed at the comment and considered her options again. She knew what the right answer was, but she’d do anything to avoid it. “Run away, fast and far.”
“And I would chase you as fast as my little tentacles could carry me!” Shadowheart bantered, but her smile faltered. She dropped her voice to convey her seriousness. “Tav – you know what you would have to do.”
Tav sighed. “I would kill it. Avenge you by killing the monster that destroyed you.”
Shadowheart gave a half-smile. “You would certainly try, wouldn’t you.” A pause. “It’s what I would do for you.”
Another pause. “If that happened, I would miss you. And I hope you would feel the same, should the roles be reversed.” Shadowheart fixed her eyes on her feet as she spoke.
Before Tav could answer, they heard a “Tsk’va! That still counts as mine.” The large walls of the village loomed ahead, the gate that once blocked the entrance had been smashed open.
“Well, we should catch up. Grab some supplies before Karlach gets too excited and lights everything on fire.” Shadowheart quickened her pace.
Tav hustled to keep up, but the sign posted outside the door caught her eye. The weathered wood made the carvings barely legible. Tav could just make out the word Moonhaven. Her fingers traced sigils to Selune. This was a Selunite camp. A knot formed in her throat and her heart began to race.
She stepped hesitantly through the doors. Lae'zel was right, this village had been destroyed at least a century ago. The walls of the houses and shops were collapsed, and fallen stones laid in the street, weathered and moss-covered. The wood floors and support beams were rotting; any of these structures could collapse at any moment. Bones and skulls left over from decomposed corpses were strewn about next to rusty swords and dented shields. A dozen freshly dead goblins lay in pools of their own blood. They were only recent inhabitants; the tragedy that struck this place had happened long before the goblins arrived. Tav started to whisper prayers, fumbling over funeral rites she had forgotten.
Tav looked about at her companions. Shadowheart was crouched beside a rusty spear, likely checking to see if it could be worth anything. Astarion and Lae'zel were covered in blood and arguing loudly over their numbers. Lae'zel was accusing Astarion of double counting some of the goblins he’d killed. Karlach smiled proudly, towering over them both. She must have won. Gale and Wyll were digging through the remains of an apothecary. Tav had overheard Gale mention searching for books, but she suspected he was looking for a magical item to feed the ticking bomb in his chest. She’d seen him reading the same tome in camp over and over, so she made a mental note to find a book or two for him.
Each of her companions were off in their own worlds, oblivious to the weight that had settled on Tav’s shoulders. She snuck toward a small house and stepped carefully over the threshold. The wood door had rotted away, only a few boards left attached to the hinges. The room before her had several chairs around a fireplace and a small table with shattered bits of porcelain – a teapot maybe? A story weaved its way through her mind. A family sitting around the fire together, chatting or reading or praying. Then, night fell.
She opened a door into the back bedroom. She notes a small bed frame off to the side. There is a skeleton on the floor, preserved by the house’s intact roof. The skeleton is on its knees, but its spine is leaned back. In front of it rests a spear with the phases of the moon carved into the handle. Perfectly parallel to the floor boards, it was clear the spear had not been thrown or dropped haphazardly. The shaft of a second spear separated the skeleton’s fourth and fifth ribs, holding it in place for a century. Beneath the torso of the skeleton was a much, much smaller skeleton. The spear had passed through this one too, where its stomach used to be. The spear tip was still embedded in the floorboards. Tav gently removed the obsidian tip. Black as the night.
Tav’s breath caught, her memories swirled with the scene she could imagine. A father, on his knees with his spear placed in front of him, begging for mercy for his daughter. The Sharran thrusting the spear so forcibly it went through him and the girl. Her injury was not fatal. She died slowly, painfully under her father’s dead, decaying body.
Tav closed her eyes. She could see her father’s blue eyes across the dining hall, locked onto hers. She remembered her mother’s purple eyes as she lay on the floor next to him, unmoving. No light or twinkle left. A hand covered Tav’s mouth. Brother holding her back while she screamed wordlessly into his palm, arms outstretched to her parents, tears streaking down her cheeks.
Tav opened her eyes. She had seen many Selunite camps, villages, holy places. All had been found and destroyed in the dead of night. Some before she arrived, some after. Some during attacks that she witnessed herself. Supplies weren’t taken, encampments were left empty. The only purpose of these tragedies was to spill blood in the name of their Dark goddess. To snatch the souls of the faithful from Her light. Tav wondered if her parents had made it to the Moonmaiden’s embrace after they died, or if they were captive to Shar for eternity. She prayed every night for the answer and had never gotten one.
The lump in her throat blossomed into a fire in her chest. Anger threatened to bubble over; she wanted to scream, throw things. Instead, she found a moth-eaten blanket. She laid the skeletons down together next to one another and covered them. She whispered every prayer she could think of and turned to leave.
A small journal stuck out, just under the bed frame. She picked it up and rubbed down the spine as she opened it. It smelled of old parchment. Praises and prayers for the Moonmaiden, written in a child’s hand. She began to read them aloud quietly.
The book was snatched from her hands. She turned her head slowly to find Shadowheart, thumbing through the pages. Shadowheart’s eyebrows were raised and her face twisted into a cruel smile that Tav had not seen before.
Shadowheart mockingly read a few lines aloud. “Shadows taunt us! Shadows stalk us! Shadows wound us!” She threw her head back and laughed. There was no joy in the laugh. It was malicious, wicked. “Drunk on hope and tides, afraid of the dark. They got what they deserved.” Shadowheart tossed the book behind her. She turned to look at Tav.
Tav was stone-faced, her eyes were dark. She could taste metal on her tongue and felt the anger ready to burst from her chest. Not red hot as Karlach’s. But cold. Dangerous.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Tav said low, a near growl.
Something flicked behind Shadowheart’s eyes, but she recovered quickly. She stood up straighter and tipped her head up, not backing down her gaze from Tav’s.
“Selunites.” She scoffed. “Coddled. Decadent. Fattened calves waiting for slaughter.” She began walking around Tav, like a cat playing with its food. Tav stood entirely still, watching her.
“Maybe if they hadn’t put their faith in that wretch of a goddess, they wouldn’t have been snuffed out.” The cruel smile returned. “Fools, the lot of them.”
“Fools. Just like you, Tav.”
Tav reached down her shirt and pulled out a pendant. A simple silver charm on a leather string. It was a crescent moon laid on its side. It had been her father’s, a totem of the Moonmaiden that once laid right over his heart. She had grabbed it from his corpse and worn it ever since, carrying him with her. “Their plight is my plight. Their tragedy is my tragedy. Their suffering is my suffering,” Tav lowered her voice. “And you would do well to shut your mouth before you say something you truly regret.”
“Their plight is your plight? They died for Selune. They died in defiance of Shar. You jumped into bed with her.”
Shadowheart’s eyes widened in realization, but again she recovered quickly. She snapped back. “Suffering? Suffering? Whatever you when through, whatever these people went through, they are nothing compared to the tests….” She cut herself off. “They deserved what came to them. You deserve all that comes for you. By all means, seek guidance from a rock in the sky, hear nonsense in waves and crickets. Run from the dark while you still can.”
Shadowheart turned around and walked out of the house. Tav couldn’t hold back anymore. She stood in the broken doorway and called after her, “You think you are the only one to claim suffering, Shadowheart?”
Shadowheart did not turn around. Tav followed her into the open air, continuing to shout at her back. “You think your suffering justifies these people losing everything? Justifies their deaths? Are you fucking serious? You cannot be that selfish. You cannot be that uncaring.”
Karlach, Astarion, and Lae'zel had stopped bickering and were staring.
Shadowheart stopped and turned around. Her face unreadable, her green eyes held only contempt and anger. “Fuck you, Tav.” She turned her back again, growling over her shoulder, “You know nothing about me.” She walked away.
“And after all this time, you still don’t know anything.”
Tav stopped in the street. Her breaths were heavy, tears threatened to spill over. She looked down at the pendant in her hand, glinting in the sunlight. Her fingers – gods, her fingers were black and blue. Tav looked up, and Shadowheart stood before her. Her eyes endless pits of black, a smile curling on her face. When she spoke, her lips didn’t move, but the words echoed through the space, in Tav’s ears, in her brain.
“How many villages do you think I left like this? How many lives have I claimed for the Dark Lady?”
She walked toward Tav. Tav could not move, pain pulsing through her broken fingers.
“How many children could you have saved if you had just done what was right?” Another step.
“Was it worth it, Tav? All those people dead, all those villages burned? Just for a fuck from a woman who’d already pledged her heart to someone else?” Another step. Shadowheart was right next to her. She leaned her head forward so that her breath was on Tav’s neck.
“It’s too late now, Tav. You gave me everything. I own you. You belong to darkness.” Tav felt Shadowheart’s lips touch her neck and everything went black.
Around and around and around.
Her stomach growled, her gut hollowed out. Her lips and throat were dry. Her feet ached and her legs were weak, but she kept walking. Afraid to stop.
Every time she let her mind wander, she saw those black eyes. The abyss they held. She would do anything to keep her thoughts elsewhere.
She wished she could die wearing her own face.
Around and around and around.
Notes:
What do we do when we feel fear or rejection? We *say it with me* double down on the doctrine of the cult we are in
Astarion: brings down entire ogre by himself
Lae'zel: Tskva! That still only counts as one!
Chapter Text
Rain was falling in heavy drops and thunder rumbled through the sky. Water sloshed beneath Tav’s boots and mud caked the back of her calves as they walked through the forest. Everyone was soaked through. Even Karlach looked less on fire than usual.
It had been two days since Moonhaven, two days since she had spoken to Shadowheart. No sneaked glances, no secret smiles, nothing. Tav hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. The weight of Moonhaven still rested on her shoulders.
Tav was angry at herself – she had seen villages like that before. Hells, she had fought to defend them. She had seen violence like that first-hand. Why was she so unraveled by a pair of skeletons from over a century ago? But her grief was irreconcilable, settling deep in her chest. The bones of parent and child haunted her dreams. A century later, thousands more Selunites dead, nothing had changed. Tav felt helpless, she had only prolonged the inevitable for the people she’d “saved.” Selunites were calves destined for slaughter; Shar made sure of that.
Tav had eaten alone and only snuck off to say her prayers when she was sure no one was watching. She’d walked far from camp to be alone and to plead aloud to the moon for justice. For guidance. She screamed her praises until her throat was raw. She wept late into the night.
It had been Tav, Wyll, Karlach, and Shadowheart scouting in the rain – looking for supplies and enemy encampments. After a few hours, Wyll called out something about seeing a boar and pulled Karlach away to hunt it. Tav could see through his excuse; the others had been looking between her and Shadowheart the last two days. She wondered if they knew, if they had seen through Shadowheart to who she actually was. Tav had missed it before, but after playing the conversation in Moonhaven over and over in her head, suspicion crept in. Tav had lowered her defenses; she had let a Sharran infiltrate her camp.
The two of them walked along the stream in silence. Tav refused to look in Shadowheart’s direction, but sometimes she could swear she felt Shadowheart’s eyes on her. Evaluating just where she would thrust a dagger into Tav’s back? Weaving an explanation, something to shake Tav off her scent? Tav bristled. She dared the Sharran to try it.
The wind picked up speed. The raindrops rang like small bells as they hit Shadowheart’s metal plate, accompanying the low rumbles reverberating around them.
“We should find shelter.” Tav said flatly and began looking around. Shadowheart only nodded.
They stopped suddenly, a stone’s throw away from a large cave opening beside the stream. A melody overpowered the sounds of the storm, coming from within the cave.
“Do you hear that?” Tav almost whispered. Shadowheart was on one knee, examining some tracks next to the cave.
“I hear rain. But nothing–” Tav didn’t listen the rest of what was said. The melody narrowed her senses; she jogged toward the mouth of the cave, and the song kept getting louder and louder.
“Please, let’s turn around.” Her voice shaking, Shadowheart grabbed Tav’s arm. Shadowheart’s fingers shook as Tav shrugged her off and continued forward, determined.
Tav entered the mouth of the cave. Shadowheart placed a light hand on Tav’s back and walked behind her, almost as if shielding herself. Tav was too distracted to do anything about it. They walked along the side of the cave, up against the wall. They were a few paces in, the mouth of the cave growing distant, when she saw a bright light and the melody crescendoed. The light source was behind a pile of fallen boulders. A small space was left between the rock pile and the ceiling – enough for her to squeeze through.
Tav’s eyes widened. “There.” She scrambled up the rock, jumping with ease between different boulders, landing gracefully before launching herself higher and higher. When she reached the top, she looked through. She could see that the cave got taller and wider after this inflection point. A tall, stone statue of Selune stood guard. Her eyes were Tav’s height, observing those that entered this sacred space. The melody disappeared. At Selune’s feet was a small, ornate chest, glowing radiantly.
Tav slipped through the opening, not caring to be graceful or careful as she descended the rock face. Selune had heard her prayers, she had guided her here.
The statue was imposing when she stood beneath it. She looked up into Selune’s eyes. Even from this new angle, it felt as if they were watching her. Tav bowed her head and said a short prayer. She heard several clicks, and turned to see that the chest had opened slightly and the light was fading. It had opened for her.
Tav ran her fingers delicately along the seal of the chest and slowly lifted it open. It was rare for Selune to be so direct with her gifts, but it was clear the goddess meant her to find this chest. Inside was a small statuette of the Moonmaiden, which Tav picked up and held gently in her hand. It was intricately carved moonstone, the details unlike anything she had come across in any Selunite camp or temple. Hidden underneath the statuette was a small piece of parchment resting at the bottom of the chest. She unfolded it and the read the perfect, golden script: All love bathed in my light shall know its blessing. Before she could consider its meaning, she was interrupted.
“Are you sure you should be rifling through that box? It reeks of the Moonwitch.” Shadowheart. The Sharran. Tav had forgotten she had been following. She snapped the box closed and slipped the gifts into her pocket. Tav stood and set her gaze on Shadowheart.
“Are you serious? That’s the first thing you are going to say to me after what happened?” she growled. “You just can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?”
“Are you serious? You run off after a song no one else can hear, into a cave full of who knows what. To what? Play with a random box you found?” Shadowheart matched her tone. Her eyes shone with fury, but there was another emotion there. Tav took note as Shadowheart glanced around the cave and shifted her weight between her feet. Shadowheart was afraid.
She should be. A Sharran in a holy place of Selune with one of her faithful – she should be very afraid.
“No,” Tav’s voice got louder. “You don’t get to deflect this time.” She took a step forward. “You are a fucking Sharran.” She spat out the words out of her mouth.
There was no denial from Shadowheart. The weight of this revelation punched Tav in the stomach. “You tricked me, deceived me. Made me think that we were friends, that we were…” Tav faltered.
Shadowheart straightened and took a step closer, pouncing on Tav’s slip. She laughed, the same malicious laugh as in Moonhaven. “Ha! My deception as much as your ignorance, Selunite.” she sneered. “I am not sorry I kept this from you. Not one bit.”
Tav let loose the emotions in her chest, loud and unfiltered. “You’re right. I did fall for it. I trusted you, you filthy snake. Was I your calf to fatten? Were you going to slaughter me next new moon to please your dark goddess?” Tav balled her fists and crouched, readying herself. Her icy anger overwhelmed her, filling her voice. “You deserve what’s coming to you.”
Shadowheart took a step back. It was neither fury nor excitement on her face as Tav expected. She looked stricken, as if Tav had already punched her. Shadowheart moved to match Tav’s stance. She whispered a few words and her hands began glowing. She steeled her face, but her eyes only held regret and sadness.
Tav hesitated. She knew what she must do – she had killed many Sharrans before. But this wasn’t a Sharran hunting her or raiding a village. This was Shadowheart. Moments flew through her mind: their fingers laced together, a shared laugh over a stupid joke, Shadowheart stepping in front of a gnoll about to lunge for Tav’s throat. It may not have been real to Shadowheart, but it was real to Tav.
She stood up, loosened her hands. “I… I can’t–”
She was interrupted by a low growl from deeper within the cave. Both of them whipped their head toward the sound. Tav took a few steps toward the back of the cave and squinted into the dark. She didn’t see anything, but another growl came, louder and deeper than the last.
Tav turned back toward Shadowheart, who stood frozen, terror etched all over her features. “Shadowheart, we need to run. Now.” She didn’t move or acknowledge Tav. Her eyes were glazed over, her mind somewhere far away.
The growling grew closer. Tav looked over her shoulder and could make out two dire wolves were approaching them, hunched low and moving deliberately. She glanced to the opening at the top of the rock pile – it would be too small for the wolves to get through easily. If they could just get there.
Tav gripped Shadowheart’s shoulders. “Shadowheart, please. We have to go.”
She remained motionless. Tav tugged toward the pile, pleading, “Shadowheart, come back to me. I’ll protect you, but you’ve got to trust me.” Her eyes came into focus, widening. “Tav!”
“Run. Don’t look back.” Tav pushed Shadowheart ahead of her. “Now!” She watched as Shadowheart lunged forward and began scrambling up the wall, the metal of her armor clunking as she hurried toward the opening.
Tav whipped around and readied her quarterstaff. She needed to buy time. The two wolves, even with their stomachs low to the ground, were the height of Tav’s chest. One was black, its yellow eyes piercing in the dark, and the other silver, standing out against the dark of the cave. Both were snarling, their teeth large and intimidating. They were just a few paces away and the silver wolf circled to flank her.
“Fuck.” She tried to remember the soft spots of canines, a hit she could land to stun one briefly. She held the end of her quarterstaff and swung at the black wolf as it came within reach. The staff connected with its head, knocking it briefly off balance. Tav swung back around, hitting the other side of its skull.
The silver wolf, capitalizing on Tav’s distraction, launched itself at Tav’s neck. She dove out of the way, and its jaws snapped shut in the air where she’d been moments ago.
She stole a moment to look up – Shadowheart was still climbing.
“Tav!” She spun to see the silver wolf, fangs bared, coming at her again. As its paws hit her chest, she wedged her quarterstaff as far back into the wolf’s jaw as possible, her arms to either side of its head. They fell together, Tav trapped on her back under its weight. She pushed up with all her strength, the wolf’s teeth inches from her chest and gnashing at her staff. She lifted her knees to her hips and kicked up into the wolf’s stomach. The wolf let out a yelp but stood firm, continuing to bare down on her. She kicked again and again to no avail.
A flash of bright light hit the wolf between the eyes, and Tav kicked again. This time, the wolf flew through the air, hitting the cave floor with a thud. Pouring sweat and chest heaving, Tav launched herself to her feet. More growling and yelping came from deeper in the cave. The black wolf was back on its feet, blood pouring from the side of its head. Its eyes were locked on Tav. It leapt at her again, and Tav swung her quarterstaff with her left arm, but her timing was off. The staff sliced through air and the wolf’s teeth sunk into her bicep. She swung wildly with her right fist, aiming for the spot she’d hit before. She felt her hand hit hard bone and a crack resounded through the cave.
The wolf finally fell to the fatal blow, releasing her arm as its jaw went slack. Tav scrambled to the rock face as blood began spurting from her wound. She saw Shadowheart looking down at her, a radiant ball of light prepared in her hand. She could end Tav here; it would be easy to convince the others a wolf had gotten to her. It would be the Sharran thing to do.
Shadowheart, seemingly sensing her hesitation, called down to her. “Tav, you need to hurry. I can hear more of them coming.”
Tav reached the top of the rock pile, and they ran to the mouth of the cave. Shadowheart made no move to slow down, and Tav kept up behind her until the cave was out of sight and Shadowheart slowed. Breathless and bloody, Tav leaned against a tree and sunk to the ground. Rain drenched her face and thinned the blood from her arm, the red stain pouring down her arm and darkening the wet soil. Her left hand was white and her the edges of her vision darkened; she had already lost a lot of blood. Shadowheart knelt down next to her and took her arm gently, whispering and letting her magic mend Tav’s wounds.
Tav looked up at her face, but Shadowheart stayed focused on her arm. Maybe it was delirium, maybe stupidity, but Tav felt safe. She felt safe with this Sharran.
“You could have killed me,” Tav breathed. “Your dark goddess would have wanted you to.”
Shadowheart held her focus on Tav’s arm, weaving the magic through each of the punctures until they knitted together fully. There was a beat of silence.
“I could have killed you.” Tav whispered even quieter, shame creeping into her voice.
Shadowheart looked into Tav’s eyes. A small smile played at her lips. “You would have tried.” Shadowheart stood and offered her hand. Tav took it and heaved herself upright. An apology accepted and returned.
The road back to camp was quiet. A Sharran and a Selunite, walking next to one another. Upon entering camp, Shadowheart went to her tent without a word.
Tav pulled the parchment from her pocket and ran her finger over the gold letters. She held the note close to her chest before moving to join the others, who had already gathered for dinner. As they sat down around the fire, Karlach slung her arm around Tav, excited to have her back. Lae'zel demanded they begin sparring to improve Tav’s skills in close combat, which Tav took to mean she’d missed her too.
After dinner, they’d stayed around the fire catching up. It seemed the group hadn’t been able to find its footing without Tav. Though her muscles ached from the day, Tav’s heart soared – she was missed, she was needed. Perhaps she was making a difference, even a small one.
Shadowheart appeared from her tent and walked toward the group. She sat down directly across the fire from Tav. She stared at Tav and said nothing, not greeting Tav or anyone else. Tav held the stare. The rest of their companions swiveled their heads between the two of them.
Karlach slapped her legs and quickly stood. “Lae'zel, how about we start that sparring practice?” Lae'zel jumped to her feet. “Finally, an opponent worthy of challenging Lae'zel of Creche K'liir.”
Wyll huffed, indignant. “You only beat me because you said I needed to kill you to win! I had you pinned!” He followed, and Gale scuttled along after them, looking for an excuse to escape the tense moment unfolding in front of him.
“Oh, but I want to stay and watch! What if they kiss? What if they fight to the death?” Astarion pouted. Karlach rolled her eyes and pulled him to his feet.
“Fine, fine, I’m coming. You are no fun.” Astarion followed them but glanced over his shoulder at Tav. There was worry in his eyes. He’d usually hide it behind jokes and sarcasm, but Tav could tell she meant something to Astarion. Tav nodded, assuring him, and he turned and called after the rest, “Oooh, lets pit Gale against Lae'zel. Now that would be entertaining.”
Shadowheart’s gaze shifted to the fire, and they sat watching the flames dance. The silence wasn’t like the ones they’d enjoyed before under the moon, but it wasn’t as tense as it had felt since Moonhaven. Tav’s mind raced. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the truth of what Shadowheart thought of her. They hadn’t killed each other, but could a Sharran and Selunite be friends? Be… more? Were the feelings that swirled in Tav’s stomach and pulled at her heart all the result of a game? Embarrassment flooded Tav at the thought.
It was several minutes before Shadowheart spoke.
“Tav, I… I trust you. Like I’ve never trusted anyone else.” Shadowheart didn’t take her eyes off the flames. She took a shaky breath. “You could have left me in that pod. You could have left me to those wolves.” She paused. “You could have killed me for the things I said, for who I am.”
Shadowheart looked up into Tav’s eyes. “But you didn’t. You have saved my life countless times, even when I did nothing to deserve it.” She scoffed and looked back down at the flames. “Even when I did things to earn your ire.”
Tav was silent. She taken aback by the admission, the vulnerability. Shadowheart continued. “I told you, I’m not good at being a friend. This is all new to me. People like you are new to me.” Shadowheart stood up and walked across to sit next to Tav. She grabbed Tav’s hand and pulled it into her lap. She looked up at Tav, and her green eyes shone bright in the moonlight.
“I want my trust to mean something. I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” Another shaky breath. “I am indeed a disciple of Shar, Mistress of the Night.” She paused. “Sister and enemy of the betrayer Selune.”
Shadowheart looked down at their hands tangled in her lap. She rubbed Tav’s hand gently with her thumb. “I should hate you, Tav. We should be enemies. I should have slit your throat when night fell after I found out you were a Selunite.”
“But… but I couldn’t. I can’t. I care for you, Tav. This… what we are… it isn’t a trick or a ruse. It never was.”
The Moonmaiden’s words echoed within Tav. All love bathed in my light shall know my blessing. Tav looked up at the moon – a waxing half-moon. A balance, one dark side and one light.
She squeezed Shadowheart’s hand. “I have seen Sharran destruction. I’ve killed your brothers and sisters with my bare hands. They have hunted me and I them. I’ve had to rebuild myself over and over because of the ways your goddess tried to break me.” Tav looked back down at Shadowheart, but she was still looking at her lap.
“I should hold contempt for you. But I do not. You are not your goddess, you are not those that have brought me pain.” Tav placed her knuckle on Shadowheart’s chin and grazed her thumb on her cheek. She gently lifted until Shadowheart’s eyes met hers. The moon lit her face, a blush growing in her cheeks. Her green eyes shone and Tav could see the flecks of brown in her irises. “You are so much more. You are so much more than that which seeks to define you.”
She could feel Shadowheart’s thigh, warm against hers. Shadowheart’s breath quickened; Tav could see it in the rise of her shoulders.
“I would go through it all again –the parasite, the Nautiloid, all of it– so that I could meet you. So that I could know you.” Shadowheart gently placed one hand on Tav’s cheek. Tav looked at her lips. She leaned in, closing the inches between their faces.
Their foreheads connected, their noses pressed together. She could feel Shadowheart’s breath on her lips, the heat in her cheeks. Her lips grazed Shadowheart’s, just a light touch. Shadowheart’s hand gripped her face tighter and pulled Tav in. Her tongue pushed inside Tav’s mouth, opening her jaw wider. Her breath rushed into Tav’s lungs, her teeth pulled at her bottom lip.
Tav, briefly stunned, regained control of herself and leaned into the kiss. She moved her hands to grab Shadowheart’s hips.
And then she was gone. Tav opened her eyes. Shadowheart had shifted and was sitting away from her, no parts of them touching. Shadowheart’s chest was heaving, breathing heavily with cheeks tinted pink. A darkness, a hunger rolled in her eyes. “Tav,” she whispered. “I can’t…you can’t… we… the consequences…” She trailed off, looking into Tav’s eyes. There was a desperation reflected in her brow, like she wanted Tav to understand what she was saying.
Tav smacked her own hands together and attempted to hide her embarrassment. She put on her bravest face, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Friends?” She asked, wavering slightly. She winced, knowing her voice had betrayed her.
Shadowheart let out a small huff of laughter and put on a crooked smile. She stood up.
“For now, Selunite.” She touched Tav’s face briefly, her thumb gently grazing Tav’s cheekbone. When her hand pulled back a moment later, Tav felt the cool breeze like a slap. Shadowheart turned and walked to her tent. Tav watched her braid swing in concert with each sway of her hips. She felt the heat in her face – embarrassment, want, shame. She put her head in hands.
Tav couldn’t walk anymore; her muscles were too weak. She could barely sit up or roll over. No one had come to give her water in what felt like days. She had no concept of how long she’d been in this darkness. She wondered what phase the moon was in. She missed its light desperately.
She laid curled up, grabbing her knees with her arms. She could feel the atrophy of the muscles in her legs and the boniness of her knees. She was wasting away.
“Mother, she hasn’t broken. The elixir has not had any effect.” A man’s voice. Baritone, unfamiliar. They were the first words she’d heard since Shadowheart had sentenced her to the endless dark. She turned her head slowly toward the source of the sound, there was no one there. Tav certainly felt broken.
A whisper she couldn’t make out.
“But, Mother…” the other voice sounded hesitant.
“A higher dose. That is an order.” Her voice. Commanding. Tav closed her eyes and heard the words echo through her brain. It would be fitting, the timbre of her voice being the last sensation Tav had besides pain.
The door to her prison opened and she felt hands pinning her arms to the ground. As if they needed to. Tav couldn’t resist if she tried. She felt like skin and bones as they grabbed her, so much of her was already gone. Liquid hit her mouth, not water this time. It burned her tongue, her throat.
They were gone as quick as they’d descended on her. Then the horrors started in earnest.
Tav stood on a platform floating in an endless sea of pink and purple. It was a familiar view, a memory seared into her brain and a place she visited regularly in her nightmares. The Shadowfell.
She was alone. The air was heavy, and she struggled to get enough into her lungs. She felt bugs crawling over her skin, burrowing into her flesh. She began to hyperventilate. Black debris swarmed around her, clouding her vision and pelting her body. She fell to her hands and knees, gasping. Her throat felt like it was collapsing. She was shaking violently. Tears fell from her eyes, and she opened her mouth to scream. Nothing came out.
Two boots appeared in her circle of vision, and then a knee. She felt a finger under her chin, and it slowly lifted her head. A familiar face… one she had caressed, one she had kissed. A face she had looked for when she needed help, one she had stared into as pain was inflicted. The eyes were not green like she remembered. They were pure black. They held none of their typical emotions – no anger or hunger, no softness or love. These eyes were an abyss; they held nothing.
Tav tried to turn her head, her instincts telling her to look away, to not get caught in this darkness. A hand reached gripped her chin and held her in place. Tav kept her gaze downward.
“Look at me, Tav.” Tav resisted. Pain rushed through her entire body, like thousands of knives stabbing every inch of her skin. Bile rose in her throat, her heart felt like it would explode. She met the gaze of the woman in front of her. The gaze of a new Shadowheart, married to the expansive black, sworn to the endless abyss of nothing.
“You are mine.”
Black ichor started leaking from her eyes, dripping down her face like paint. It began to move and squirm until it leapt from Shadowheart’s face, landing on Tav’s cheeks and creeping along her skin. It filled her nostrils, it forced its way down her throat, it crawled into her eyes.
She heard a low laugh echoing.
She could breathe again, but something was wrong. Tav still felt heavy. Her skin still itched.
She pushed herself up from her hands and knees. The air smelled moist and earthy. She recognized the bioluminescent mushrooms of her acenstral home. The Underdark. She got to her feet and began walking along an underground river until a small stone wall came into view.
There was a drow hunched behind the wall. A woman with a small baby wrapped in a blanket. She was weeping, holding the baby to her shoulder. Tav stepped forward and the woman snapped her head up.
She saw her own eyes and a face sharper than her own. Her mother.
“Stay away from me, you monster!” Her mother screamed, and a ball of light hit Tav in the chest.
She fell onto her back, her legs and arms spread. Her head pounded, pain radiating from the base of her skull. When she looked up, she expected to see the fungi and stalactites of the Underdark, but she saw only deep, heavy clouds. On this moonless night, the clouds obscured even the brightest stars.
She sat up. The monastery she grew up in. She was in the hall of worship. All of the monks laid in pools of their own blood with looks of surprise and horror frozen on their faces. The statues of Selune had crumbled to the floor. She heard a sputtering and turned around. Brother lie on his back, blood pouring from his mouth.
She crawled quickly toward him. There were multiple dagger wounds in his chest and throat. She reached out to staunch the bleeding with her hands. He coughed violently and wriggled away, his eyes were wide with horror. Tav looked down at her outstretched hand, clutching a silver dagger.
“Brother. Brother! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tav sobbed.
She looked up, and he was gone. She was kneeling on a cobblestone street. The village was on fire. A village like countless others she’d been to, the ones that she’d tried to save. Dead Selunites lay strewn about, spears pinning their corpses to the ground. She heard a child screaming.
A father kneeled in the street, his spear on the ground. A small girl crouched behind him with silver hair and light grey skin. There was terror in her purple eyes. His hands were up in mercy. A dark justiciar was before him, in the typical ornate armor. The face was covered in a mask – silver with large dark holes for eyes. A long braid of black hair held together by chains swayed while she walked slowly in front of him.
Tav heard a whispered plea. “Please. Let her go.” Tav felt the tears fall. It was her father’s voice. She scrambled to her feet to tackle the figure stalking her father, stalking her.
The justiciar thrust the spear into the chest of her father. It pinned the girl to the ground. The girl was screaming. Tav was screaming.
“Oh, but she came willingly into Shar’s embrace.” She felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. Tav looked down. An obsidian-tipped spear pierced her stomach, blood and bile leaking from the puncture wound.
Tav ripped the spear all the way through and pushed her hand against the hole in her gut. She stuck the heel of the spear into the ground and lifted herself up. She would die fighting.
But a new scene was before her. She was in camp, settled near the Emerald Grove. The camp where they’d spent their first few nights together. The camp they returned to when they defeated the goblins and saved the tieflings. The camp they returned to for their reunion after the defeat of the Netherbrain. The camp that she and Shadowheart sat under the moon countless times, where she’d let Shadowheart into her heart.
Each of her friends were before her: Karlach, Astarion, Gale, Lae'zel, Wyll, Jaheira. Each had a spear thrust into their neck, the shaft through their spine, the tip stuck into the ground. They hung on the spears, perversely upright. Black ichor poured from their eyes and mouths. Tav screamed and heard an echoed scream behind her. She turned and she saw herself mounted on a spear, near death.
Her duplicate’s purple eyes narrowed, spitting blood as she roared, “You filthy, fucking Sharran. What have you done? What have you become?”
“Look at all you gave up for me.” She felt the breath of the whisper on the back of her neck. Another laugh echoed through her mind.
Tav shut her eyes as tight as she could. The laugh grew louder, joined by a chorus of screams. The screams of her father, her friends, and thousands of Selunites all rattled in her brain. She could hear her own the loudest. Tav covered her ears and fell to her knees.
“Please! Please, stop!” she begged.
Silence. Tav lowered her hands from her ears and slowly opened her eyes. She was on the platform again, but she wasn’t alone.
Shadowheart stood before the chained Nightsong, just as she had all those years ago. Tav knew how this played out.
“No.” Tav croaked, reaching her hand out. “Shadowheart, no!” Shadowheart thrust the spear.
She turned her head toward Tav, blood of Selune’s daughter splattered across her face. Her eyes were dark pits. Tav looked down, her tears falling to the rocky surface of the platform. The same boots appeared in front of her. She was kneeling before Shadowheart just as the Nightsong had been moments ago.
Tav looked up to meets her green eyes. The spear pierced Tav’s sternum, right through her heart. Shadowheart never took her eyes off Tav. She leaned closer, twisting the spear. Tav shrieked in pain.
Tav felt the weight of a dagger in her hand.
“Will you be strong enough to finish the job?”
Tav screamed as the dagger plunged into Shadowheart’s neck. Tav’s hand was wrapped around the hilt.
The light blinded her, her vision nothing but white. An outline of a figure swam in front of her, out of focus.
“Please.” It was all Tav could muster, her throat raw from screaming. She just wanted it to be over.
The figure pulled her up by her bicep, but Tav’s legs buckled under her own weight. The figure dragged her along as it walked out of her prison.
Her vision adjusted and some color returned. She could see her legs – still ivory white. She could see the bones protruding at her knees and hips. Her skin was stretched taught over the small bones in her feet.
She closed her eyes; she wanted to pretend she was herself when it was time to go. She considered saying the passphrase to drop the polymorph, but she couldn’t remember what it was. She couldn’t remember much of anything. Muddled thoughts half-formed but she couldn’t grasp them.
She felt herself being picked up and sat down on a stone slab.
“Open your eyes, Aria.” Her voice. Tav complied instinctively. It would be a small comfort to see her face one more time.
She was seated in front of a mirror, but she couldn’t see her reflection. It was just darkness, just the abyss. Shadows formed within the mirrors, swirling and chasing one other.
Resist. A voice from within her, its source unknown. But Tav didn’t want to; she wanted to give in. She wanted it all to go away.
Resist. It was louder this time. Tav recognized Jaheira’s voice.
She looked down, away from the mirror, and used all her energy to focus. To do as Jaheira and she had practiced. She took several deep breaths, the clouds in her mind beginning to dissipate.
“Submit, and it will all go away.” Shadowheart said. Tav felt a hand on her shoulder.
Tav looked into the mirror. She was ready.
Tav woke up on the same platform in the Shadowfell. She was in her own skin again, her body her own. She stood up. She could breathe freely. Her mind felt clear, like it had been before she stepped into Baldur’s Gate.
She was surrounded by a translucent barrier, fluid with colors flashing every so often. It reminded her of doing her laundry, when a bubble would float above her head and reflect the sunlight. Warmth spread throughout her body and the smell of grass filled her nostrils. A light breeze caressed her skin.
Tav felt safe, confident in the barrier she had created. A figure lurked in the dark and began circling her. Tav kept her eyes on it; she was ready.
The dark-eyed Shadowheart imitator appeared, wearing a frown for the first time.
“Did you think you could fool me, Tav? That I wouldn’t know who’d stepped into my embrace? That I couldn’t see through your plans?” The figure shifted, morphed.
Lady Shar herself stood before her. She was as Tav remembered from years ago. Her skin like obsidian rock, her robes dark purple. A headpiece covered her eyes. She spoke with Shadowheart’s voice, but it was different. Lower, more commanding. Tav should have recognized it before.
“You are a fool.”
She began to walk closer to Tav. “But, a fool I have use for.” Shar’s expression never changed, there was no emotion.
“Shadowheart shows a weakness. A weakness for you.” Shar stood beside her bubble now, her face distorted by the wall of protection. Cloudiness pushed at the edge of Tav’s mind, making it harder and harder to focus. She was already exhausted, pushed to the brink. Tav shut her eyes tightly, doubling her efforts. Resist, her own voice and Jaheira’s joining to encourage her.
“You present an excellent challenge for her.” Shar raised her arm, her fist clenched but her index finger outstretched. “It will be our little secret.”
Shar tapped the bubble, and it shattered like glass, shards raining down onto Tav. Tav screamed, her brain on fire. The darkness flooded her mind, she couldn’t think straight. Her thoughts raced, though nothing stuck. She was submerged in an intense dread.
“You have let me in, and my darkness has touched you. I know you, Tav Aria Ulutar Bedir, worshipper of the traitor Selune. Go forth and do my bidding.”
Aria awoke, gasping as if from a nightmare. Groggily, she sat up on the couch in this unfamiliar room, trying to remember how she had gotten there. A large mirror sat on a desk before her, but it did not reflect her face. It reflected nothing.
Aria felt a hand on her shoulder. When she turned, the breath left her lungs.
A woman stood before her. She had long, dark hair pulled into a thick braid. She wore a black dress with a neckline that plunged down to her stomach and a slit that ended right below her hip. She had deep green eyes. Aria couldn’t look away; the woman was beautiful.
“Welcome to the Church of Lady Shar, Aria.” Aria’s heart flipped when she said her name.
The woman wore a coy smile. “I will be watching your progress with great interest.”
Notes:
I have to actually do my job and write science next week. I'll be back after I do my work and scream/cry/throw up over the next few chapters of this fic.
Chapter Text
Tav needed a strong wine and a long bath. She had walked out of the goblin camp with worg shit on her face and the taste of goblin toe on her tongue. The group noticeably kept their distance, shouting at her if they needed to talk to her. Tav understood; if she could have escaped her own stench she would have.
She knelt at the river’s edge, washing her clothes. They had finally reached the river and she could finally wash the stink off of herself. All they had to do was follow the river south to the grove and they would arrive in a few day’s time, bringing good news of a slain goblin horde.
Tav was relieved to be putting distance between them and the old temple. Every place she found dedicated to Selune was broken, empty, tragic. The centuries of slaughter weighed on her, the grief and helplessness burrowing into her bones. Her one guiding light was Selune’s gift, found tucked away in a land that looked to have been purged. She had to focus on the resistance, the resilience of her people. Surviving, despite the constant threat. Carrying her light, despite the shadows that overwhelmed them. Loving, despite having their lives ripped from them.
Her mind wandered to Brother. Was he still alive? Was the order still intact? It would be difficult to find him even if she didn’t have the worm swimming in her brain matter. He and the other monks had to move every few months to stay a step ahead of the Sharrans. The last time they had rested on their laurels, well… Tav saw firsthand what had happened.
She whispered a plea to Selune to keep him safe, to keep all of those old elves safe. She had been considering trying to track them before picking up the parasite, but she could do nothing until the worm was no longer threatening to split her skull. Tav considered the two options her companions had presented to get the parasite out of their heads; neither was particularly enticing and neither guaranteed success. Lae'zel had pointed out several githyanki markings that exposed dangers on the road or led to hidden supplies, which she insisted meant that her kin had settled near and would have the means to cure their infection. Halsin said True Souls were migrating to Moonrise Towers, but that it was surrounded by impenetrable shadows and broken land, remnants from a war raged by Shar on a Selunite settlement. He had overheard goblins discussing a passage to Moonrise Towers through the Underdaark. Tav felt her stomach twist at the thought of passing through her ancestral home. She was not keen on reuniting with any drow. But then to traverse such a hostile place to come out in cursed land, dedicated to unyielding despair and pain to Selune? It would be a trying journey if she were at her strongest. Even so, Tav knew the strength of her desire to avoid the Underdaark was matched in Shadowheart’s opposition to seeking out the githyanki stronghold.
Tav sighed. Shadowheart had kept her distance since the night of the wolves, and Tav wasn’t sure where they stood. It could have also been her stench... But even after Tav had bathed in the streams, Shadowheart did not resume their late night chats. She’d waved Tav off when Tav approached her tent, telling her she was busy with her prayers. The only exception was when they discussed looking for a creche. She had been very direct with that lecture.
Tav tried to be content with small smiles or small talk while on the road. But what was left unsaid made her anxious. Her feelings ran deep, and they were hard to ignore.
Her guilt over having these feelings for a follower of Shar made her want to wash herself away in the river. To scrub until her skin was raw and she was fit to be seen before Selune. They were supposed to be enemies. It was one thing to keep the company of a Sharran, but to consider one a lover? But her desire was stronger. Tav thought about Shadowheart when she lay her head down for the night and when she opened her eyes for the dawn. She prayed to Selune, and Shadowheart was there again, woven into her thoughts. It only made the guilt plunge deeper, rooting itself within her rib cage. She was tormented by dreams. Shadowheart reaching out and touching her. Selunites coughing on their own blood. Shadowheart kissing her, holding her. Shadowheart stabbing a knife into her side.
Shadowheart clearly had more conviction than Tav. She was able to toss Tav aside for her goddess. She could hear Shar’s creed and wipe her mind of Tav. Tav was willing to throw away everything her goddess taught her for another kiss. Another kiss from a Sharran.
The guilt curled more tightly around Tav’s bones and she whispered several prayers of forgiveness to Selune.
Gale had prepared a surprisingly good spread for dinner. They’d restocked on supplies, and they had meats and cheese galore. Shadowheart sat next to Tav at dinner as she usually did. Tav resolved herself not to read into the gesture, as it would only be cause for pain later. But she occasionally got lost in the fantasy, thinking that Shadowheart was deliberately wrapping her fingers around Tav’s when she passed the trays of food to her. That she was sharing a secret when she knocked her knees into Tav’s and held her thigh against hers a second longer. That she was holding onto each word of Tav’s words in the group conversation.
As was usual, Shadowheart stood up and left the fire early to perform her prayers. She got up slowly and Tav watched her with awe. Her camp clothes left little to the imagination, and she knew it. As she walked away, she glanced behind her shoulder at Tav. Tav was caught in the act, staring at her hips. Shadowheart turned and walked into her tent, seemingly unbothered.
“Hells, Tav. When are you gonna make your move on Hairdo? I am getting sick from watching this dance over and over.” Karlach groaned. Tav snapped her eyes back to the fire in front of the group.
“Just fornicate and get over it. You are unfocused. It will cost us in battle,” Lae'zel commented through the dried piece of jerky she still chewed.
“You all have this wrong.” Tav started and stopped. “I don’t…she doesn’t…”
“Darling, our sweet innocent Tav,” Astarion purred. “She wants you. And I can prove it.” He smiled deviously, baring all his teeth. Tav instinctively rubbed the back of her neck.
“I actually agree with Astarion, Tav. We all can see the looks she gives you, the way she says your name.” Wyll added. Tav shot a look at him – even Wyll was joining in? He smiled sheepishly. “I cannot tell a lie, my friend.”
Gale started in, too. “You know, Tav. I could give you some pointers. I am actually very well versed in courtship, and as you all know, I was the lover of…”
Karlach groaned again. “Yes, yes, the lover of Mystra, goddess of lace or braiding or whatever.”
Gale shot her an incredulous look, “The weave, Karlach.”
A look of genuine concern passed over his face. “Karlach…you do know that Mystra is the goddess of magic, right? That the weave refers to the very fabric that…”
Astarion interrupted, rolling his eyes. “No, no. We are not letting go this juicy topic for another lecture on the fabric of magic’s panties or whatever unintentionally sexual academic sermon you have prepared.” Gale snapped his mouth shut. Astarion pointed a finger at him and dropped his voice lower. “Or another retelling of how your ‘practiced’ fingers somehow ended up inside a goddess.” He meant it to sound like a joke, but Tav detected a hint of jealousy in Astarion’s words.
He turned to Tav, a devilish smile spreading on his face. “No. Tonight we focus on pushing our hapless leader to be brave. To cease her endless pining and sweep the dark, mysterious woman off her feet.” Tav put her face in her hands and dragged her fingers down, pulling the skin taut.
Wyll sighed almost longingly, “A tale as old as time.” Karlach gave him a look and raised an eyebrow. His cheeks grew red and he mumbled something about a book plot.
“Can we please drop it? Please?” Tav begged. She couldn’t let them sweep her up in this fantasy. For the reality of the situation, the sting of rejection would burn all the more if they all witnessed it. And for what she would would be willing to throw away to be enveloped in Shadowheart’s darkness.
Astarion looked Tav over and shrugged his shoulders. He had a soft spot for Tav and was in a good enough mood not to push her further. “Have it your way, my dear.” He turned to Karlach and narrowed his eyes. He was ready to pounce on his next prey. “Karlach, darling, humor me. Do you think the Blade of Frontiers is all it’s cracked up to be?”
Wyll turned red and sat up straighter. “Astarion!” he yelped. Karlach let out a booming laugh. “Do you think it's more of a rapier or a longsword?”
Wyll jumped out of his seat, his face redder than before. “Karlach!” His voice cracked in surprise.
They laughed and Tav joined in, relieved that the group’s intense gaze had shifted from her. She snuck a glance at the tent behind her and found herself wishing Shadowheart would reemerge.
When Tav turned her head back, Lae'zel was staring at her from across the fire.
“Chk. Unfocused.”
Tav sat alone some distance from camp, resting against on a log along the river’s edge. She was saying her prayers and considering the paths forward when her thoughts were interrupted with the sounds of footsteps. Her heart leapt, thinking briefly that Shadowheart had come to sit with her. But the footfalls that approached her were heavier, a longer gait. When she whipped around, it was Astarion.
She turned her head back toward the river and wordlessly shifted over. She fixed her face to hide her disappointment.
“Oh don’t pout, I know you were hoping I was someone else.” He sat down next to her. “Perk up. I’ve come to help with your problem.”
She scoffed. “The worm in my brain?” Tav looked down at her clasped hands. She did not want to continue the conversation from dinner.
“Darling – your Shadowheart problem.” He paused and then laughed. “I can hear your heart rate increase when I say her name.”
Tav curled her fingers into fists and took a heavy breath, trying to tamp down her beating heart. “I don’t need help, Astarion.”
“Maybe you don’t. But she certainly does.” He leaned in closer to Tav and raised one eyebrow.
“What? She…” Tav stammered, but Astarion interrupted her train of thought as he reached a hand toward Tav’s face. She turned to look at him, and he tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear.
He held her gaze, his tone getting serious. “Sometimes love is a game. A chase. Sometimes it's playful and silly, like a schoolboy teasing his crush. Sometimes it’s a battle of wits, elaborate chess moves to bring the other where you’d like them to be.” His hand still lingered by her face, his palm gently brushing up on her jaw.
His eyes darkened as if he meant to convey something to Tav. “And yet others…well, others are predators and prey. A lion stalking a sheep.” His hand cupped her face more firmly. “And sometimes one needs to remind the lion why she should want to take a bite of the sheep.”
Tav blushed and turned her chin away from his palm. “I resent your metaphor. Besides, Astarion, we spoke about this – she literally said ‘I can’t.’” He was the only one she’d told after the kiss. He had approached her acting like he just wanted gossip, but Tav suspected he’d truly wanted to check in on her.
“Darling, she is a religious fanatic, of course she has reservations. But she is a religious fanatic that worships an evil goddess. All you have to do is tempt her.”
“Astarion, come off it.”
“It is way easier than convincing a cleric of light to bed you.” He laughed. “Although, with your heroic tendencies and ‘basked in Her radiance’ bit, I am shocked you don’t already have one clinging to your arm.”
Tav narrowed her eyes; she was done being the butt of the joke tonight. “Yes, alright? Yes, I, a simple Selunite, crave the dark of a Sharran. Ha ha, we all find it very funny.”
Astarion smiled so wide his teeth bared. “At last, we say it aloud.” Tav opened her mouth to retort, but Astarion put his finger to her lips to silence her. “Shh, my sweet. Leave it to me. All will be revealed in time.”
Astarion slowly pulled his hand back and tipped his head down. He kept his gaze on Tav, blinking his eyes slowly. He put his hand on her knee and began to lean in closer to her.
“Are you…are you coming onto me?” Tav stammered. The whiplash of the conversation was too much.
He threw his head back and laughed. Not his typical sparkle laugh that he uses to charm people. A real laugh. “Oh heavens, no!” Tav’s face flushed.
“Oh, don’t be cross. It’s not you, it’s me.” He placed his hand on her arm. “I have standards.” Another laugh. Tav tried to resist, but she fell into laughter too. She punched him in the shoulder.
“And I am interested in keeping my heart unstaked and intact. I am not sure Bangs would take too kindly to me barking up her marked tree.”
Tav rolled her eyes. She was too tired to argue about Shadowheart anymore.
She felt his hand on her forearm again. “Do you trust me?” He asked. Tav nodded. He leaned in close again and dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper. “Before I came to enjoy the view, I stopped by our friend’s tent.” Tav felt a pang of anxiety in her chest. “I told her I was coming to meet you here.” He leaned in until she could feel his breath on her neck. “I told her there was a… euphoria in a vampire bite. Ecstasy.” His teeth grazed her skin. “That I could hear you moan as I bite down. That I could taste the want in your sweat and blood.”
He bit down, a familiar cold sharpness followed by numbness. Tav had been letting him do this every so often. A favor for a friend. This time though, it was like a performance. He moved his hand from her arm to cup her cheek again. Another hand grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him. Tav leaned into his shoulder and closed her eyes. The numbness soothed her anxieties. It was nice to be close to someone.
He eventually stopped feeding and kept his lips on her neck. Before he pulled away, he licked the blood dripping from the puncture marks.
“You are welcome, darling.” Astarion purred and stood up.
Tav gave him an incredulous look. “Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”
“You will see come morning.” He smiled and sauntered off, a spring in his step that surely hadn’t been there before.
The next night at dinner Shadowheart took her usual seat next to Tav, though she didn’t even spare a glance at Tav. Her gaze was fixed on Astarion, who sat directly across from them. Her scowl was almost menacing. A tense silence fell over the group. Tav chewed slowly, watching Astarion and Shadowheart war without words. Lae'zel eyed them both too.
Astarion broke the silence first. He looked over at Tav and smiled deviously. “Tav, darling. I hope last night wasn’t too much for you. I wouldn’t want to wear you out.”
Before Tav could answer, Shadowheart placed her hand on the inside of Tav’s knee. “Still thirsty, Astarion?” she said low, daring a response.
Astarion was unhindered. “If you were lucky enough to taste, you would be too.”
The rest of the group was watching now.
Shadowheart narrowed her eyes. Her grip on Tav’s knee tightened. It seemed like every inch of her side was up against Tav.
Tav didn’t move. Heat bloomed under her skin wherever Shadowheart touched her.
After a moment, Shadowheart moved her hand to lightly touch Tav’s cheek, turning her face toward her own. She was inches from Tav’s face and staring directly into Tav’s eyes.
Shadowheart’s fingers traced along Tav’s jaw and down to the two puncture wounds on her neck. She began whispering, and Tav could feel the familiar warmth of healing magic. Shadowheart didn’t break eye contact, staring Tav down. There was a hunger there.
“You know, Astarion. I think you are right. I am thirsty.” She didn’t turn away from Tav.
Shadowheart stood up, she let her fingers travel along Tav’s neck until it was just her index finger at Tav’s chin. “Join me for a bottle later?” She paused, her finger lingering a second longer before she walked away. She swiped a bottle of wine from the table and carried it back to her tent.
Tav turned slowly towards Astarion, mouth agape. Nearly all of the others wore expressions matching Tav’s. She could see the corners of Astarion’s smile peeking out from behind the wine glass he still held to his lips. Without breaking eye contact with Tav, he wordlessly held out his hand toward Lae'zel, who let out a string of curses and placed ten gold pieces in his hand.
It took Tav awhile to gather the courage to saunter over to Shadowheart’s tent. Shadowheart stood outside twisting a near-empty wine glass. She watched Tav approach with a hunger in her eyes as her gaze unabashedly traveled up and down Tav’s body. Tav felt like the sheep, walking willingly into a lion’s den. Where there should be fear, Tav felt excitement. Where there should be guilt, Tav felt wholly consumed by the woman standing in front of her.
“I was wondering when you would show up. I was worried I’d have to finish this bottle all alone.” She wore a pout, but Tav had no doubt Shadowheart knew Tav would come.
“You know I wouldn’t have missed this.” Tav fumbled over the words, her nerves getting to her.
Shadowheart’s lip curled into a half-smile as she drained the last sip from her glass. “Afraid of the dark, Tav?” Tav blushed and broke eye contact.
Shadowheart stowed the two glasses in her pack, tucked the open bottle beneath her left arm, and took Tav by the hand. She gave a small, controlled smile. “I found the perfect place for us to sneak away to.” The smile turned to a genuine grin.
Tav’s heart lept and she returned the grin. Shadowheart pulled her into the forest behind her tent. They walked along a small trail, and Shadowheart did not release her hand.
Tav thought about asking Shadowheart why she had been avoiding her, but she banished the thought. Her questions could ruin the moment, scare her off. She tried to hush her anxieties and focus on her hand in Shadowheart’s. On how Shadowheart turned to look at her every few minutes, the moon illuminating her face. On how the air buzzed between them, causing Tav’s heart to jump in her chest.
Tav could get swept up in the moment, but the questions still lingered in the back of her mind.
Tav heard the roar of the waterfall before she saw it. Shadowheart led her to a flat stone along the river that was fed by the falls. The mist from the rushing water sparkled in the moonlight. Shadowheart moved to put her pack down and Tav looked over the side at the endless swath of deep green trees. She lost herself for a moment, looking over the expanse. From behind her, Shadowheart’s arms wrapped around Tav’s waist and pulled her close.
“It’s a pretty view, but it’s not the one I hiked out here for.” Shadowheart’s breath tickled her ear. She pressed her lips gently into Tav’s shoulder.
Tav wanted to just give in, to lose herself in this moment with Shadowheart. But frustration nagged at her – Shadowheart had disappeared the last time she had dared to get close. “I thought you said we couldn’t do this.”
Shadowheart hummed against her spine, right where her neck met her back. “Maybe I’ve decided to try to pull you into darkness.” Her hands moved up to Tav’s collar. Her fingers danced around the string threaded through the front of her shirt. Her breath was hot on Tav’s neck now. “Maybe I want to keep my enemies close.”
Tav moved to step away from Shadowheart. “Shadowheart…we can’t.” Shadowheart flattened her hands against Tav’s chest and pulled her close.
“What if it was just us tonight? No Shar, no Selune. Just you and me.” Shadowheart whispered against Tav’s back. “We can justify it in our prayers tomorrow.”
Tav turned around to face Shadowheart. Shadowheart put her hands on Tav’s shoulders and looked up at her. Tav grabbed her hand and held it against her cheek.
“I want to see you and know you. I want to drive you mad with want. I want you to be mine.” Shadowheart moved closer, her lips nearly on Tav.
Tav did not think of Selune, or her obligations. There was only the smell of lilac and the green of Shadowheart’s eyes. She closed the distance to kiss Shadowheart, but Shadowheart pulled away just slightly out of reach.
“Say it.” Shadowheart’s voice was commanding. “Say that you are mine.”
Tav hesitated and then whispered. “I am yours.”
Shadowheart kissed Tav slowly before pulling away again. “Say it again.”
“I am yours.”
Shadowheart kissed Tav again, rougher this time. Tav leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Shadowheart’s waist. She wanted to feel Shadowheart all over her body. She wanted to feel the pressure, the warmth.
Their kisses grew more desperate. She tugged the strings on Tav’s shirt, pulling them loose before ripping open its buttons. Her warm hands explored Tav’s abdomen, untucking the shirt from her pants as they wandered.
Shadowheart pulled away, breathing heavily. “Take off your shirt.” Tav complied, shrugging her arms out of the sleeves and letting the shirt drop to the ground. Shadowheart watched every movement and her eyes widened when Tav was exposed.
She walked slowly around Tav, her eyes scanning every inch of her torso. One finger, slowly following a rib. Up her back, around her side. Just underneath her chest, she paused. She spread her hand across Tav’s stomach, turning her wrist so her fingers settled right at Tav’s belt. The rest of her followed, as she slipped in close to Tav. Her forehead rested on Tav’s, and her other hand cupped the back of Tav’s head, fingers curling around Tav’s long silver locks.
A pause. They looked at each other, Tav staring into her green eyes. There was no mask, no hidden meaning. Her world shrunk to just Shadowheart. For a moment it was just them, together. It was vulnerability – a care for Tav. Genuine affection. There was a ferocity, a want. But there was fear – a darkness looming and threatening.
Shadowheart pulled Tav closer, locking onto her lips. The kiss was messy, like Shadowheart couldn’t get enough. Shadowheart wrapped her hand tight around Tav’s hair and her other hand roamed Tav’s back. She pulled Tav’s lip with her teeth. She slipped her tongue into Tav’s mouth. Tav wanted to choke on it. Tav drank it all in, her head swimming in the feeling of Shadowheart pressed against her.
Tav felt herself toppling forward. Shadowheart was pulling her to the ground. Her monastic training did not prepare her for these kinds of acrobatics, so they landed with a thud. A slight wince by Shadowheart and a crack in Tav’s knee. Tav was on top of her, her palms out on either side of Shadowheart.
“Hmm. You’ll need practice.” Shadowheart wrapped her arm around Tav’s neck and kissed her, lifting herself off the ground to hang on Tav. Her other arm reached to cup Tav’s ass, pushing Tav’s thigh to flex and press between her legs. Shadowheart found Tav’s lips again.
Shadowheart’s hands gripped Tav’s back tightly, nails digging into her skin. She ground herself down onto Tav’s thigh. Her breath went into Tav’s lungs. Tav was mesmerized, lost in her own wanting.
Tav felt herself being lifted and tossed to her side. Her hip hid the rock and she rolled out onto her back, her arms and legs splayed out. Shadowheart straddled one of her thighs. She loomed over her, her hand pinning Tav’s wrist above her head. They waited another moment. Tav watched as Shadowheart’s chest heaved, felt the heat on her thigh. Shadowheart bent down so their chests were touching. Her lips traveling up Tav’s jaw. Tav moaned, and she could feel Shadowheart smile against her skin.
The hand in Tav’s hair pulled a fistful of her curls, turning her head and exposing her neck. Shadowheart’s teeth sunk into the fresh skin that had carried puncture wounds just hours earlier. They weren’t sharp and piercing, and Tav certainly didn’t feel numb. Shadowheart sucked on the skin, biting down as if to rip the flesh away. Tav felt bruises blooming. She grabbed Shadowheart’s back and pulled her close, and Shadowheart responded by pressing her thigh down between Tav’s legs. Tav gasped at the brief connection.
Shadowheart pulled away and sat up. She paused, still straddling Tav’s thigh. Her lips were red and swollen, the tiniest bit of blood on her chin. Shadowheart watched as Tav gulped the night air, watched the rise and fall of her chest slow, the pulse in her neck tame. The cool air filled the space where Shadowheart had been, and Tav shivered.
“Just a taste for now.” Shadowheart whispered. She rolled herself off of Tav.
Shadowheart stood up, dusted herself off, and walked over to the bag she had carried from camp. She picked up the bottle of wine and two empty glasses. She walked toward the edge of the stone, briefly turning and walking backward, tilting her head toward the falls in a wordless invitation. She turned to sit, her feet dangling into the water. She put two wine glasses down and filled them.
“Split the bottle with me?” She called over her shoulder, as if they hadn’t just been tumbling about together. But she was breathless, her cheeks pink. A certain swoon in her swagger.
Tav got up, flustered. She walked over and sat next to Shadowheart, taking the wine glass. Shadowheart picked her glass up and raised it toward Tav. A small clink and Shadowheart downed her glass, quickly pouring another one. Tav followed suit, and the wine set her throat aflame. It wasn’t just wine, but brandy. She tried to hide her cough. Shadowheart raised one eyebrow and giggled into her cup. “I didn’t take you for such a lightweight.”
Tav felt emboldened. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” It was truer than she wanted to admit. How much did any of her friends know about her?
Shadowheart made a face and hid it by sipping from her glass. They were silent for a while, the crickets singing and the tree leaves slapped together. Tav looked up at the moon. It was a waxing gibbous now, nearly full. A time for realizations and reflections before the full moon.
Tav whispered before she could think better of it. “What made you change your mind?”
Shadowheart sighed. “You should know why I am hesitant, Tav. You should hesitate for the same reasons.” Shadowheart sounded annoyed by the repeated conversation.
“You avoided me for weeks. Why now?” Tav wasn’t going to let up; she would get her answer.
Shadowheart didn’t speak for a while. She wore a pained look on her face and looked down at her feet. “I was afraid of my feelings for you… I still am. I am afraid of the consequences.” She sighed and looked at Tav. “But I am more afraid of watching you be someone else’s.”
Shadowheart slid closer to her. She took Tav’s hand in both of hers and held it close to her.
“Rules are meant to be broken, Tav. I have bent them plenty. Members of Lady Shar’s clergy aren’t meant to have any sort of relationships. But we found ways. Friends, lovers, odd trysts.”
Tav bristled, and Shadowheart picked up on it right away. One side of her lip curled up in a smile, “Jealousy suits you, Tav.” She kissed Tav’s fingers one by one, looking right into her eyes.
“I want to bend the rules for you, Tav.” Her eyes widened, her tone imploring. “But you have to be okay with some idiosyncrasies. I have to reserve my heart and soul for Lady Shar.”
Tav looked at the moon again, bitterness at the back of her tongue. Was it possible to be jealous of a goddess?
She whispered, “Say it again, Tav. Please.”
She ignored the guilt swinging in her chest and the itch that this wasn’t quite right. She gave in fully to the brandy, letting the buzz wash away her fears. Shadowheart’s vulnerability broke her resolve, Tav would put her own heart on a plate for her in this moment.
Tav turned to Shadowheart. “I am yours.”
Shadowheart flashed a genuine smile before kissing Tav. It left Tav reeling as she pulled away. “You are beautiful.”
“I know.” Shadowheart tried to hide her smile, but one peaked out anyway. “But it's sweet of you to notice.”
They talked late into the night, Tav drinking more brandy than she ought to. The last thing Tav remembered was laying in Shadowheart’s lap. She could feel the moonlight on her skin as Shadowheart twisted her silver locks in her hands. Shadowheart looked down on her like she was the only thing in the world. Tav felt lighter than she had in years.
They headed back around dawn. Shadowheart kissed her on the cheek before going to her tent. Tav walked through the middle of camp to her own tent. She passed Astarion, who was awake and sitting sideways in a chair, his knees over the armrest. He put down his book and raised his eyebrow, his gaze settling on Tav’s neck.
“I believe darling, that you have been marked.”
—
Aria laid on her cot, listening to the other initiates breathing and snoring. She couldn’t sleep. Her muscles hurt, her bones ached, her head pounded.
It had been a few weeks since she had woken up and taken on her new life. She had awoken emaciated – her skin tight to her bones and her muscles atrophied. A few Lesser Restorations bestowed by Cleric Adrielle and several training lessons later, she could feel her strength returning. But her body still didn’t feel like her own. Her movements weren’t coordinated and her limbs felt alien. Her mind was cloudy and she’d get lost in the middle of sentences. Her history and political lessons didn’t carry any context or meaning. She had gotten good at memorizing the long-format prayers to Shar, as there was nothing else in her head.
She sighed loudly. Healing couldn’t come fast enough; she was ready to exact her revenge on the initiates that had taken advantage of her weakness.
There were five initiates that Mother Superior deemed worthy of a chance to impress the Lady of Darkness. Samael, a drow who found his way to the Lady while attempting to escape his mother in the Underdaark. Narkissa, a human previously employed by the Flaming Fist and recruited for her ruthlessness. There was Gabriel, the de facto leader to the other two and Aria’s least favorite of them all. He was previously from the Zhentarim and was very good with his daggers. He made sure Aria knew.
Then there was Charlotte. Aria could at least hold her own, even if she got exhausted quickly. Charlotte wasn’t a fighter. For every bruise the other three inflicted on Aria, they gave four to Charlotte. She had come to the Lady of Darkness because she lost her husband to the Absolute. When four tentacles sprouted from his broken jaw and his skin ripped open, he lunged to eat her brain. His silver blood splattered across her face as she stabbed him.
Aria was surprised Charlotte wanted this life. She was gentle and kind. She gave Aria half her rations to build her strength. She wrapped Aria’s cuts in bandages soaked in milk and lavender petals. She snuck wordlessly into Aria’s cot and held her when she awoke in the night, screaming over nightmares she couldn’t quite remember. It took courage to be kind in this place.
Aria was grateful to have Charlotte, but even still Aria felt disconnected from the other initiates. She was different from the rest of the recruits. They had memories, identities. They had lives beyond the last few weeks. Aria had nothing.
Aria stared up at the dark walls, tracing the gold accents through their patterns. She desperately tried to remember anything from her old life – her family, her childhood, how she found Lady Shar. But she came up empty. She prayed to the Lady of Darkness for truth, for understanding.
Nightweaver Darkmore told her it was blasphemous for her to question Lady Shar, to wonder about her past. But Aria couldn’t help it. There must have been something terrible, something unspeakable for Lady Shar to have taken so many of her memories. Aria tried to tell herself it was for the better to forget, that it was a blessing to be given a clean slate. But there was a small part of her that was desperate to find the truth.
She turned the rings on her hands. Her fingers had healed nicely after the cleric had infused them with magic, but she couldn’t remove the rings. A curse she carried over from her previous life. They held an answer if she could just figure out the right question.
Aria batted away Gabriel’s lazy thrust of his dagger. He yawned and feigned boredom, and anger bubbled up inside Aria. He had beaten her multiple times before. He would make half attempts at an offense, waiting for her to exhaust herself. Then he would make his move, catch her with his dagger, and twist it so she knew her inadequacy.
But today was different. The Mother Superior showed up to lessons today. Nightweaver Darkmore stood straighter and spoke formally when lecturing them on joints and how to strike them to gain advantage in close combat. He had a shine to his brow. Aria saw him sneak glances at the Mother Superior. He was unnerved in her presence; they all were.
The Mother Superior had requested a demonstration of the best fighter. Nightweaver Darkmore obviously picked Gabriel, the sniveling bastard. And there was no one that Gabriel enjoyed being cruel to more than Aria, save Charlotte. But Charlotte wouldn’t put on a show. So she was selected as his sparring partner.
Her legs felt like they could give out at any moment and she was already sweating profusely. But she was determined to win, to prove herself to him, Nightweaver Darkmore, and the Mother Superior. Aria could feel all their eyes on her, evaluating her.
She took a deep breath and readied herself, crouching low. She balled her fist and looked up through her brow. No mercy. Gabriel laughed, flashing a dangerous smile.
He struck first, a confident thrust of his dagger. Aria easily dodged out of the way. She watched his smile falter briefly.
He struck again and again, but Aria continued to side-step his advances. She watched the pattern in his strikes, looking for her opportunity. He didn’t think of her as a worthy opponent, so he was being sloppy. His grip wasn’t tight enough.
Aria positioned herself slightly further away. Gabriel hyperextended his arm to attempt to reach her with the dagger. Her moment. She moved her feet quickly, his arm whooshing past her face. She punched him in the stomach, trying to push his liver into his ribcage. He staggered back, doubled over for a moment, but recovered quickly.
His smile disappeared, and his eyes filled with fury. He lunged for her again with his dagger aimed for her stomach. She caught the dagger with her left bracer and shoved his arm off its trajectory. She took the opportunity to punch his nose with her right fist.
He swung his arm again and buried the dagger deep between her bicep and shoulder. He tried to pull the dagger out, but Aria punched his inner elbow. His arm bent and he lost his weak grip on the dagger. Pain coursed through Aria like electricity as she lifted both fists, readying herself.
She released a flurry of blows across his chest, abdomen. He swung wildly at her, catching her jaw a few times, but Aria was undeterred, like something had awoken in her. She landed a brutal hit to the side of his head, and he toppled.
He landed hard on his side, his breath coming out in a wheeze. Aria rolled him over to his back with her foot. She pulled his dagger from her arm, the blood gushing in earnest. She sat on his chest, pressing the knife up to his neck with just enough pressure that a thin line of blood appeared.
“Yield.” Aria said flatly.
“You fucking bitch.” He spat. Aria applied more pressure to the dagger. He glanced down at the knife and then back up. Aria watched his throat as he swallowed. “I yield.”
Aria stood up, the adrenaline already dissipating. She tried to hide the shake of her muscles as she stood up.
The Mother Superior was suddenly inches in front of her. Aria could feel her cheeks burning, turning a light pink. Aria had not seen or spoken to her since she woke up, but she would make appearances in her dreams. A brief touch, a smell of lilac, a shared smile. The way the Mother Superior looked at her, her gaze lingering over Aria's eyes and briefly passing Aria’s lips, suggested that Mother knew of her secret dreams.
“Impressive.” Her mouth turned up. Aria’s blush deepened.
“Thank you, Mother.” Aria stepped aside as Nightweaver Darkmore chastised Gabriel. She couldn’t help but let a small smile play on her lips. Samael was called to spar with Gabriel.
Aria tried to focus on the fight in front of her, but she felt alive for the first time in ages. Her muscles ached in ways she understood, and her breathing was even. There had been so much clarity in her fight; her reflexes were sharper and her mind felt light. She felt the power in her shoulders, back, thighs.
Aria felt eyes on her. But it wasn’t Darkmore that was looking at her. It was the Mother Superior. Her green eyes looked like they were eating Aria, traveling all over her body. She caught Aria’s eye, and raised an eyebrow. Aria held her gaze a moment before her eyes followed her raven black hair, to her neck, to the clasp holding her dress together. Aria’s mind wandered to tracking the neckline of her dress, undoing that clasp. Wrapping her hair around her fingers, hearing her name whispered by those lips.
“Charlotte, Narkissa, you’re up.” Aria snapped to attention. This was bad. With the Mother Superior here, Narkissa would be even crueler, even harsher. And what would happen to Charlotte when the Mother Superior saw her inability to fight? Charlotte’s eyes met Aria’s briefly, fear flashing, and then she turned to face her opponent.
“Begin.” Narkissa wasted no time. She punched Charlotte in the throat and kicked her in the stomach. Charlotte doubled over, coughing and breathing raggedly. Narkissa brought her knee into Charlotte’s nose and Aria heard the crack of it breaking. Narkissa brought up her knee again and again, and Charlotte began screaming. Aria secretly begged Nightweaver Darkmore to end the fight. Around this time he usually would, but he sat still, arms crossed. The Mother Superior stood next to him, a look of growing distaste on her face.
Aria looked back at Charlotte, her nose bloody and her eyes already swollen shut. She was on her knees, begging for Narkissa to stop. Narkissa pushed her to her back with her foot.
“End her.” The Mother Superior said. Aria watched as Narkissa straddled Charlotte’s chest and began to throw punch after punch. She couldn’t bear it, her feet acted before she could think.
Aria ran low, her shoulder colliding with Narkissa’s side. She quickly pinned her to the ground and began dealing blow after blow. Crack. The sound of Narkissa’s eye socket shattering. Crack. Her jaw dislocating. Aria could barely register the screams. Crack. A tooth flew through the air. She would leave Narkissa as she had left Charlotte – broken, bleeding, dying.
“Enough.” Aria’s fist stopped in midair – she couldn’t move. The Mother Superior appeared before them, holding a ring of purple arcane energy in her palm. Gabriel and Samael pulled Narkissa out from under Aria’s frozen body.
“Darkmore, tell the clerics not to heal any of these injuries.” She bent down to her knees, her face inches from Aria’s.
“You think you have saved her life? You have only prolonged her suffering.” The Mother Superior sneered. “You can watch the life leave her over hours and hours. Listen to her moans. Watch her writhe. Hear her beg for death. You will wish she had been culled out of mercy.” The Mother Superior stood up and walked away. She dropped the spell, waving her hand dismissively as she walked out of the door. Aria fell over and caught herself on her forearms. She could see the bones of her knuckles. She was covered in blood.
Aria crawled over to Charlotte, whose breathing was ragged, labored.
“I’m here, Charlotte. I’m here.” She whispered softly, her voice desperate. She grabbed her hand, and felt the lightest squeeze.
Click. Aria let out the breath she was holding and put the hairpin back under her clothes. If they didn’t want people breaking into locks, why would they teach lockpicking? Aria had found it to be second nature, the muscle memory taking over. Half a memory tickled her, a friend. A feeling of success after dozens of tries. It then twisted into sadness, guilt. Loss.
She re-focused. Charlotte needed her. She opened the door to the quartermaster’s supply an inch, waiting for a consequence. With none, she pulled the door open enough to slip in. She snuck over to the shelves, desperately searching for a healing potion. A big healing potion.
Aria had carried Charlotte back to the dormitory. She cleaned her wounds, haphazardly stitching the big ones shut. She warmed damp clothes by the fire to reduce the swelling of her eyes. But Aria could hear it in her breath and see it in the bruising of her neck. Her throat was collapsed. She needed magic or medication; milk-soaked rags weren’t going to cut it. The clerics wouldn’t look or acknowledge Aria when she came to them for help. She had the idea to break into Quartermaster Nocturne’s supply on her return from the infirmary.
None of these were right. The glass of the different bottles clinked together as her hands slipped over flask after flask. Her search grew more frantic.
A volumetric flask. Thick red liquid with a hint of sparkle.
Aria exhaled, Charlotte was going to make it. She lifted it and admired her success for a moment.
Muffled voices behind the door. She looked around for a hiding spot, assessing the amount of light and the view from the door. It was just like a practice for her upcoming examinations – she was more than capable. She spotted space behind a wardrobe and slipped into the darkness.
The door opened. Nocturne. And the Mother Superior.
“Nocturne, it has been three years since we have had sight of her.” A higher voice than Aria was used to during prayers and lectures. It was stern, but anxieties peaked through.
“I know, Shadowheart. Our scouts are scouring the coast for her.” The quartermaster’s response was annoyed. She walked toward a small chest and began opening it.
The name Shadowheart spurned something in Aria. Had she heard the Mother Superior’s name in a lecture?
Shadowheart’s fist slammed onto a desk, and Nocturne’s head whipped toward her. “She defiled the bodies of the faithful. She made them a wretched display as a warning, Nocturne. We need to find her. We need to figure out what that old bat Jaheira has to do with…”
Nocturne shook her head and sneered. “Shadowheart, let's stop pretending this is about revenge for you.” And then she opened the chest in front of her, revealing rows and rows of rings.
“Of course it is! As if I don’t know those messages were for me? As if I don’t know how much the justiciars hunger to kill her?” Shadowheart slammed her fist on the table again, voice rising. “They look to me to bring justice!”
Nocturne continued looking for the rings she was looking for. “And what are you going to do when you capture her then, Shadowheart? Are you going to let them put her up on a pike? Are you going to watch as they each take turn stabbing her”
The Mother Superior blanched. It was the first time Tav saw her lose her perfect veneer.
“Or are you going to dole out the punishment alone?” Nocturne looked over at her, her eyes piercing. Aria was shocked… no one ever spoke to the Mother Superior like this, questioned her like this.
“I am catching her alive to get revenge…” Shadowheart stammered.
“Stop.” Nocturne snapped, and then softened. “Stop. We have been friends for years. Stop lying to me.”
“Fine. I do have a personal interest in the matter.” Shadowheart looked away from Nocturne, her eyes downcast. Aria heard fear creep into the Mother Superior’s voice for the first time. “…I’m worried she is dead.” She said in a whisper.
“And those justiciars she slayed are dead too. Maybe this is a good thing?”
Shadowheart snapped back up to glare at Nocturne. Her anger returned, but redirected. “She was the only thing that was ever mine. Only mine. I didn’t have to share her with Shar.”
Nocturne held her stare, but didn’t say anything. She went back to looking at her rings.
Shadowheart paused and collected herself, turning back to business. “I don’t think she is dead. She is strong-willed and bull-headed. She is taking a subtler approach now. It is in our best interest to root her out before the offensive comes here. I saw her sneak off with Jaheira after the reunion. I think she knows something.”
Nocturne picked up a ring to examine it, and a crooked smile grew. “Well, I am sure we can think of something nasty to get the High Harper to talk.”
Shadowheart reached over to grab Nocturne’s hand. A gentle touch, not anything like what her touches were rumored to be. She laughed. “We will image downright horrors. But we must be practical. The Harpers are already looking for excuses to destroy us.”
There was silence as Nocturne continued looking over the jewels. Aria held her breath and tried to still all of her muscles. Seconds felt like minutes.
“How are the new recruits coming along?” Nocturne asked, pulling a second ring out of the box before shutting it. “Did any of them kill for your goodwill?”
“Who told you?” Shadowheart sounded annoyed.
“The clerics said one of them came by to get a healing potion but didn’t look too badly banged up.” She came around to the side of the desk. So close to the Mother Superior – Aria still couldn’t believe the Mother Superior got this close to anyone.
Shadowheart scoffed. “She is making a habit of defying my orders.”
They began to walk out together, and Nocturne stopped briefly. “Shadowheart… you aren’t really going to let Charlotte die, are you?”
“I haven’t decided.” She responded slowly.
“There was a version of you that would have done that for me.” Nocturne whispered. They shared a look.
“I said I haven’t decided.” She repeated herself, slower and more authoritative than the last.
Nocturne looked down and resumed following Shadowheart. She changed the subject. “Okay, so we need to talk about rations for…” The door shut behind them and the conversation faded away.
Aria took several breaths. She was about to step out when the door opened again. “I forgot my bag, I’ll be right back.” Aria froze. Nocturne shut the door behind her and walked to the desk.
“I know you are here. I know you have that potion.” Nocturne announced to a seemingly empty room. She picked up her bag. “Keep it.” She turned to leave but hesitated just before the door.
“Your most valuable commodity is secrets, initiate. You would do well to keep the Mother’s close to the chest.” She walked out.
Aria crept out of her hiding spot a few breaths later, rushed to the door, and stepped out into the hallway. She closed the door gently and walked quickly away, her steps keeping pace with her racing mind.
Aria couldn’t have imagined the Mother Superior… Shadowheart… confiding in anyone. Everything about her was shrouded. Aria wondered how often these conversations occurred. Was the quartermaster who the Mother Superior trusted most? Did she know all her secrets? A jealousy crept in, wriggling deep in her abdomen. A jealousy of what?
Aria shook her head and looked down at the potion bottle she held. None of that mattered. She had the solution. Charlotte was going to make it.
That night, Aria snuck into Charlotte’s bed and held onto one of her arms, head resting on Charlotte’s shoulder. Aria listened as her breathing got lighter and lighter. Watched as her bruises yellowed and faded and the cuts scabbed and scarred. She squeezed Charlotte’s hand, reassuring her. Eventually, Charlotte could squeeze back.
Notes:
here is 10,000 words of ~friendship~
Chapter Text
Fairy lights danced above the campsite. The sound of the lute soared above the chatter and raucous laughter. The campsite was brimming with life, with dancing and singing. Sounds of joy that Tav hadn’t heard in ages.
Tav’s mind was buzzing. Her chest swelled with pride. She had done right by these people, and they were alive to celebrate it. Everyone was alive. She basked in the light of the full moon.
Tav sipped her brandy, sitting at a table near the dancers. She watched as they twirled and stomped their feet. Karlach swung Wyll around, lifting him like he weighed nothing. Wyll took the moves in stride, landing gracefully and dipping Karlach. They both laughed. Tav couldn’t help but chuckle along with them.
Astarion, sitting next to her at the table, scoffed as he downed the last of his red wine. Tav refilled his goblet. “Astarion, this is a party! You could lighten up.”
“This party is boring. Booorrring.” He stretched out the word and put his chin in his hands, elbows on the table. He sighed longingly. “Goblins would have thrown a much better bash. The revelry, the rowdiness.”
“I’ve had my fill of a goblin party, thanks.” Tav tasted goblin toe on her tongue and shuddered. She threw back her brandy to cover the taste.
“Think of all the fun we had! You licked a foot. You rubbed worg shit on your face. You were whipped by a priest.” Astarion laughed aloud. “Now that I think about it, all this party is missing is you making a complete fool of yourself.”
“And the poisoning. Don’t forget all the poison.” Tav poured herself another drink. Astarion’s teasing wouldn’t bring her down.
“Well, there’s still time for that.” Astarion smiled took a long drink of wine. Tav punched him. She snuck a glance over at Shadowheart’s tent. Shadowheart stood with her own goblet, a hand on her hip. Her eyes were on Tav, and she seemed unbothered that she was caught staring. Her eyes traced Tav’s curves.
“Apparently, there’s still time for you to make a fool of yourself, too.” Astarion’s teasing words echoed slightly in his goblet.
Before Tav could respond, a tiefling from the grove had approached their table. Lakrissa. “Hello there, hero.” She put her hand on the table, facing Tav and blocking Astarion from view. Tav heard his huff of annoyance. “Courageous and handsome.”
Tav blushed. “I couldn’t have done it without…”
“Don’t be modest, hero.” Lakrissa grabbed Tav’s hand and pulled her to her feet to dance. She twirled Tav around, so much so that her vision kept spinning even when her body stopped. Karlach whooped. Wyll held onto Tav’s hand and led her across the dance floor. Tav laughed and danced along, letting the joy buoy her.
Tav paused, breathless, a grin plastered on her face. She looked back at the table to check on Astarion, who was already in new company. Shadowheart crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair Tav had occupied moments ago. She swirled her goblet lazily in one hand as her eyes held Tav’s. She looked bemused, a small smile playing on her lips. Tav felt the heat of embarrassment redden her face and Shadowheart’s gaze intensified. It was darker now, hungrier.
Lakrissa reached again for Tav’s arm, guiding her toward the center of the dance floor. Tav’s feet followed, but she kept her neck turned back, unable to pull her attention from Shadowheart. Shadowheart’s face twisted. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she stared daggers at Lakrissa. Astarion barely hid his gleeful amusement as he looked between Shadowheart, Tav, and the tiefling. He whispered something to Shadowheart, and she bristled.
When Shadowheart looked back at Tav, her annoyance was palpable. Tav held her gaze, and slowly raised two fingers. Tav lightly brushed the bruise on her neck, staring down Shadowheart with purpose. She smiled deviously as Shadowheart’s cheeks reddened.
Energized by her own nerve, Tav turned back to the dancing crowd. Wyll put another glass of wine in her hand, and she downed it, reveling in the lightness of the evening. She shook her hips, letting the drink and the heat of Shadowheart’s gaze build her confidence. She threw her head back and laughed, her arms spread out wide to soak the moonlight into her skin.
The party had reached its lull, but the moon shone brightly overhead. Karlach rested against a rock, snoring loudly. Several tieflings lay passed out next to her, borrowing her warmth. Wyll walked around, sharing water and bread with anyone who would take some. Tav was astonished; she could barely stand, and Wyll had easily drank as much as she had. She looked around for the others, but Gale, Astarion, and Lae'zel were nowhere to be found.
Tav was drunk, but she wasn’t ready to sleep. The night was still young. Her buzzing feet carried her to Shadowheart’s tent. Shadowheart stood at the entrance, impatiently tapping the stem of her wine glass. Tav inhaled sharply; it was hard not to stare at Shadowheart, hard not to linger on the spots of bare skin illuminated by moonlight. When Shadowheart’s eyes met her own, they were glassy but full of intent. Her cheeks carried a light pink, caused either by Tav or by the wine. Or maybe both.
Tav approached and opened her mouth for some sort of greeting. Shadowheart grabbed her collar and pulled her into a searing kiss. Tav could taste the wine on her lips. Shadowheart whispered against Tav’s mouth, “Take me away from here. Now.”
Tav was more than ready to follow orders. Taking Shadowheart’s hand, she pulled her back to the river’s edge where they’d had their first real conversation weeks ago. Tav turned to say something about how far they’d come, but Shadowheart was quicker. She tossed her wine goblet in the dirt and grabbed the side of Tav’s face, fingers catching around Tav’s jaw. She found Tav’s lips with desperation. She tangled her free hand in Tav’s hair. Tav gasped a breath and grabbed Shadowheart’s hips, pulling her closer.
Shadowheart fumbled with the buttons on Tav’s shirt, ripping the flimsy cloth open. Both of her cool hands roamed Tav’s torso, caressing her chest. Tav stepped back and slid the shirt off her shoulders, exposing herself to the moon and to Shadowheart. Shadowheart stared for a moment, taking in Tav’s body. She met Tav’s gaze again as she unclipped the front of her own shirt. Tav stared in awe.
Shadowheart crashed into her, bare skin meeting Tav’s and sending waves of heat through her body. She kissed Tav with a growing intensity, desire bordering on need. Tav matched her hunger, but she rested her hands at Shadowheart’s hips; all of her eagerness could not drown out her reluctance to break the rules. Shadowheart pulled away to grab Tav’s hands and cup them around her chest. “For fuck’s sake, Tav.” She growled. “Stop being so gods damned respectful.”
Tav froze for a moment, but she recovered quickly. She closed the space, drawing Shadowheart’s lips in with her own. She rolled her tongue into Shadowheart’s mouth. She tugged at her lips with her teeth and ran her hands hungrily along every inch of Shadowheart’s back, her stomach, her chest. Shadowheart moaned softly, and Tav felt a warmth settle below her stomach. Her body ached for more.
Tav pulled away from Shadowheart’s lips and began kissing her jaw. Just light, fluttering, brief kisses. She moved down her neck, following the line of her sternum. She cupped Shadowheart’s breasts and flicked her tongue across her nipples, which rose in the cool night air. Shadowheart put a hand in Tav’s hair and closed her eyes. Her chest heaved with deep breaths, her face pink. Tav looked up at her in awe, her sharp features outlined by the full moon.
Tav slowly knelt, kissing down Shadowheart’s belly and sliding her hands along her waist and to her hips. Her fingers rested on the buttons of Shadowheart’s pants. She paused, looking up at Shadowheart.
Shadowheart looked down, her eyes wide and wild. She ran her fingers through Tav’s silver locks. “Say it.”
Tav rested her chin on the buttons of Shadowheart’s pants. “I’m yours.”
Shadowheart shivered and grabbed Tav’s hair forcibly. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours.” She watched Shadowheart, who nodded. Tav undid the buttons, and Shadowheart left the pants in a heap on the ground.
Tav paused, kneeling before Shadowheart in reverence. The moon still shone brightly above. All love bathed in my light shall know my blessing.
Tav lifted Shadowheart’s left leg over her right shoulder. She kissed up the inside of her thigh and hovered for a moment. Shadowheart gasped as Tav’s hot breath hit her.
Her mouth met Shadowheart. She tasted the desire that Shadowheart never voiced aloud. Shadowheart twisted Tav’s silver locks more tightly around her fingers and squeezed her thigh against the side of Tav’s head. Tav could hear Shadowheart moan, muffled by Shadowheart’s own hand cupped over her mouth. Tav wanted to make her scream. Tav dug her nails into Shadowheart’s ass, clawing red lines down to her thighs.
When Shadowheart shuddered, Tav released her. They watched each other, chests heaving. Shadowheart crouched so she was face to face with Tav. She leaned in and kissed her gently.
As she pulled away, she looked at Tav like she was about to pounce. “We are breaking all sorts of rules tonight.” Shadowheart pushed Tav’s chest, forcing her down on to her back. “But it was worth it to see you kneeling before me.”
Shadowheart grabbed the sides of Tav’s pants and pulled them down. She smiled wickedly. “It was worth it to see you between my thighs.”
Shadowheart crawled on top of Tav, pressing her skin against Tav’s. She took one finger and slid it over Tav’s heat. Tav gasped. Shadowheart put her finger in her mouth and slowly pulled it out. “It was worth it for the taste.”
Shadowheart kissed her fiercely. Tav clung to her back and pulled herself closer until every part of her was touching Shadowheart. She rolled her hips up against her. Tav moaned into her mouth.
Shadowheart pulled away, looking down at Tav. Her eyes were dark and her voice low. “My eager little thing. My sweet Tav. I’m going to ruin you.”
Shadowheart rolled off Tav and lay on her back, panting. Tav looked over at her and tried to memorize every inch.
Shadowheart flashed a genuine smile. She murmured under her breath, “What’s another broken rule just this once?” She wrapped her arms around Tav and pulled her in close. Tav rested her head in the crook of her neck.
Tav breathed deeply and rested her hand over Shadowheart’s sternum, above her heart. Shadowheart kissed the top of her head, whispering into her hair. “Tell me a secret.” Another kiss.
Tav’s body tensed. A Sharran, asking for a secret? She took another deep breath, pressing herself into Shadowheart and letting the smell of lilac calm her. She wondered if Shadowheart had noticed her hesitation.
Tav thought for a moment. She briefly considered telling Shadowheart about her mother and father or perhaps Brother, but something stopped her. A half thought. An instinct. Protect Selune’s children.
Shadowheart hid her face in Tav’s silver hair. “Please?” A simple plea.
Tav sighed. “I have spent so long entrenched in grief, in hopelessness. I have witnessed so much suffering. Nearly everyone I knew before the tadpole is dead.” She left out the part that their deaths were entirely caused by Sharrans. Tav looked up at the moon, letting it expose her. “Sometimes, I wish I could leave this Order behind, forsake my promises and duties.” The words slipped out of Tav before she even realized. Shadowheart held her closer, sensing the gravity of her admission.
She continued rambling. “I…I’ve actually spent as much time farming and constructing homes as I have fighting and adventuring. Many of the settlements I came across needed that sort of help as much as protection.” Tav paused a moment, thinking of the dirt between her hands as she planted seeds. The promise of new growth. And then she thought of the fires burning through the crop, the farmers’ blood soaking into the dirt.
“I think I would like to find a place, fix it up – if I could. Grow all sorts of greens and have cows. Maybe a dog.” The corners of Tav’s mouth curled into a sad smile. “I’d like… I’d like something permanent.”
Tav turned away from the moon and hid herself in Shadowheart’s shoulder. She had given up on the idea of permanence over a decade ago.
“But Selune needs me. Her people need me.” Tav felt Shadowheart stiffen at the mention of Selune, but she didn’t say anything.
Shadowheart hummed, her face still nestled in Tav’s hair. Tav looked up at her and cupped her cheek in her hand. “It’s your turn.”
Shadowheart’s demeanor changed; she became guarded. Her eyes steeled and her lips made a thin line. “Secrecy is everything to Lady Shar’s children.”
Tav kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. “What is one more broken rule?”
Shadowheart sighed. She traced patterns in Tav’s back with her hands. “There isn’t much to tell. I… I gave up my memories. I had them suppressed before I got on the Nautiloid.”
Tav moved so that she was staring at Shadowheart. “That seems… extreme.”
Shadowheart shrugged. “It’s an act of faith. An act of duty.” She gave Tav a pointed look. “Something I am sure you can understand.”
Tav nodded slowly. She had dedicated herself to Selune, but the Moonmaiden never took anything from her. Never stole parts of Tav. “Why though? Why were your memories taken?”
Shadowheart narrowed her eyes momentarily. “Not taken. Given willingly.” Her eyes grew distant, “I am on a mission. Once I am free of this tadpole, I must return to Baldur’s Gate. Lady Shar has a cloister there. There, I can get my memories back.”
Tav briefly considered asking what her mission was. She wondered if Shadowheart had raided a Selunite camp. She wondered if Shadowheart would even remember it if she had. Tav knew better than to ask questions she didn’t want the answer to. Shadowheart’s eyes remained far away, and Tav wanted her back. But their goddesses sat between them now.
Tav rolled onto Shadowheart and got very close to her face. She kept her eyes on Shadowheart’s, watching her pupils refocus on the naked woman in front of her. Tav shifted her gaze to Shadowheart’s lips. “Tell me anything about yourself that you can remember. Not about tadpoles or Shar. Something about you.”
“I like night orchids. And I can’t swim.” The words tumbled out; she was no longer thinking about Shar. Tav couldn’t help but smile at the thought of distracting Shadowheart from her awful, demanding goddess.
“You are a trained assassin, you wield incredible magics… but you can’t swim?” Tav laughed aloud.
Shadowheart punched her shoulder. “I’ll show you how trained I am if you keep teasing me.”
Tav flashed a devious smile, pleased to have the upper hand for once. “Promise?”
Shadowheart held Tav until the moon hung low and the rising sun threatened to expose them. They giggled and whispered, kissed and explored, running their hands over scars and blemishes like they were holy. Shar and Selune couldn’t reach them here.
Lae'zel came to Tav’s tent at the crack of dawn to rouse her.
“Istik, rise!”
Tav looked blearily up at the early sky, blinking slowly. She had slept maybe an hour or two. The brandy hadn’t quite worked its way through her system. Her head was cloudy, her thoughts slow. And her stomach contents threatened to spill out of her mouth. She rested her palm against her stomach and took a few steadying breaths.
Lae'zel shouted again. “Get up! I will not have your weakness shining through on the battlefield because you can’t hold your drink.”
Tav got dressed and exited the tent. Lae'zel was leaning against a tree, dressed in her camp leathers and tapping her foot impatiently. She looked Tav up and down, a growing look of disdain on her face. She narrowed her eyes when she looked at Tav’s neck. A new bruise had bloomed in the same place as before.
“Have you already sparred this morning, istik?” Lae'zel said dryly. Tav assumed this was the tone she took when she was joking around. “Tired out by an elf with a third of your strength?”
Tav pinched her forehead. “Half-elf. She is a half-elf.” She grumbled. She was too tired and too hungover to physically spar, let alone verbally. “And she is stronger than she looks.”
Lae'zel pushed herself off the tree and walked over to Tav. “Looks like she beat the wit out of you, too.” Lae'zel punched Tav in the stomach. Tav doubled over, bile rising in her throat. “I will make short work of you.”
Tav rammed her shoulder forward into Lae'zel’s gut and wrapped her arms around her waist, bringing her to the ground. They rolled in the dirt, grunting and throwing punches.
Gale’s voice resounded through the camp. “No, no! No sparring in the camp! Off with you, before you wake Karlach. Who knows how many crates of supplies we’ll lose this time if…” Tav looked up at Gale’s tent, but he wasn’t there. She looked over to where his voice was coming from. He stood in front of Lae'zel’s tent. Tav saw the marks on his neck and along his arms.
A smile broke out on Tav’s face. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one sparring this morning.” She started to laugh and Gale turned bright red.
Lae'zel capitalized on Tav’s distraction, grabbing her shoulders and flipping her over into the dirt. Tav landed on her back hard, the laugh pushed out of her lungs. Lae'zel pushed her hand onto Tav’s cheek, rubbing her face in the mud.
“You see, that’s the difference between you and me. I have endurance.”
Lae'zel and Tav made their way back to camp several hours later. Tav could smell the alcohol in her sweat. Her legs barely complied as Tav dragged her feet toward the idea of breakfast. She had taken a beating during today’s lesson. Lae'zel was unfazed.
It was a quiet walk back, but Lae'zel spoke just before they entered camp. “Your skills are improving.”
“Is that a compliment?” Tav had genuine surprise in her voice.
“I don’t pay compliments, I make observations,” Lae'zel growled. She kept walking.
Tav stood still for a moment. As the initial shock subsided, a warmth filled her chest. A grin broke out on her face.
“Quickly. We have a creche to locate.” Lae'zel interrupted her reflection. Tav groaned and jogged to catch up.
Lae'zel was eager to sit down around Halsin’s map to identify possible locations for a githyanki stronghold. A place that held the cure for their infection. Tav sighed, wishing to go back to sleep. She looked around the camp, taking stock in who was awake. She only spotted Gale, who was stirring a large pot of stew. The smell made Tav’s stomach grumble.
Tav looked down at the map on the table. The temple to Selune turned goblin stronghold sat to the northwest. A large black splotch covered the area to the southeast – the shadow-cursed lands. When Tav stared at the ink, she could swear it was growing, eating the map in its wake. Lae'zel and Tav marked all the locations they had noted Tir’Su markings in their travels of the area. As they’d moved east, there was a higher density of githyanki markings.
As they were eating breakfast and squabbling over the location of one of the markers, Halsin came into camp. He walked gracefully for such a large man. He joined them at the table, seemingly perfectly at ease given he was about to face interrogation by a githyanki. Halsin and Gale made small talk until Lae'zel interrupted them, demanding answers from the druid.
Tav’s thoughts drifted. She stared back at Shadowheart’s tent. She closed her eyes and smelled lilac. Images of last night danced in her head.
It was unusual for Shadowheart to sleep this late. Tav mindlessly touched the bruise on her neck. While she was a bit worried, part of her was relieved Shadowheart hadn’t woken up yet. Tav wasn’t ready to spoil last night with a fight over what comes next.
“Istik! Did you even hear what the druid said?” Lae'zel slammed her hand on the table, and Tav jumped. She turned back to face the table. “Chk! I thought bedding the Sharran would bring your mind clarity, but you are as unfocused as ever.”
Halsin chuckled. “It could be the brandy. Our friend did down a small barrel last night.”
Gale joined in. “Or it could be the lack of sleep; she stayed up way past her bedtime!”
Tav shot Gale a look. “And you didn’t?”
Lae'zel slammed her hand on the table again. “Enough! Let the druid speak!”
“The only thing east is an old temple to Lathandar.” He says as he points to a structure in the northeastern section of the map. “I haven’t been to the area myself, but there was a tiefling that said he saw githyanki on the trail. We just thought he was telling tall tales.”
Lae'zel wore a look of confusion. “If he was talking about tails, then they were not githyanki.”
Tav put her hand on Lae'zel’s shoulder gently. She ignored the glare she received. “Tall tales. Halsin thought he was lying. Telling a fake story.”
“Ah.” Lae'zel nodded and looked back at Halsin. “Where did the teeth-ling see my kin?”
“Tiefling. With an f,” Tav corrected. Lae'zel shot her a look, but Tav shrugged. She would take her wins when she could get them. She wasn’t going to beat Lae'zel sparring anytime soon.
Halsin drew a large circle a few days’ hike from the Lathandar temple. “Said there was a red dragon with them, too.”
Tav’s mouth dropped open. A dragon? A red dragon?
Lae'zel’s eyes lit at the mention of the dragon for just a moment. She composed herself. “Come wizard, we must prepare to leave at once.” Lae'zel pushed her chair back from the table and walked her tent. Gale scurried after her as she barked orders about packing up the rations.
Tav watched them, a small smile on her face.
Halsin interrupted her thoughts. “I understand your desire to get rid of the tadpole and the lure of a cure promised by the githyanki, but I think all your roads will lead to Moonrise Towers.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Centuries ago, this land was blessed by Selune. She watched over the woods and its inhabitants. It was full of life.”
Tav turned her head to look at him. She swallowed the anxiety that had risen her throat. She could tell how this story would end.
“Many temples were constructed, all outposts to one grand structure. Moonrise Towers. Entrusted to the Thorm family.” Halsin looked off toward the trees, his eyes growing distant.
“A century ago, treachery befell the Thorm family. A curse was put on the land – Shar’s work. An army of dark justiciars rose and destroyed everything.” Halsin paused a moment. “Harpers and The Druids of the Emerald Grove allied to save the region. I was with them; I thought that we could take them with Silvanus’ and Selune’s blessing.”
He paused again, his eyes refocusing as he turned to meet Tav’s gaze. “I was wrong. Everything the curse touched died. My friends, my allies. They either ran into the darkness or were slain. But their corpses rose. The curse infected them, made them servant’s to Shar’s wickedness. I watched my friends die and then had to kill them over and over.” Halsin grimaced. He curled his large hands into fists on the table.
Tav rested a comparably small hand over one of his fists. “This pain I am familiar with.” She lifted her father’s pendant of the Moonmaiden into view. “I am sorry, Halsin.”
Halsin offered her a small smile. “No, my friend. I am sorry. I’m sorry we didn’t put an end to it then and there. I’m sorry I couldn’t lift the curse when I had the chance.” He sighed. Tav could have sworn he was choking up. “I… I ran. We all did. When I tried to return, all the roads were torn up. The land itself morphed to protect the region. When I tried to return to save the nature I’d abandoned, the path was blocked by vines and rock.”
He took her hand in his, emotions overwhelming him. A memory itched in the back of Tav’s mind. Her hand, much smaller, held by Brother.
“I have asked a lot of you already, Tav. You saved me from the Absolute. You rescued the grove I am charged with. And I know more will be asked.” Halsin lowered his voice, his eyes pleading. “Please. Help me remove the shadow curse. Help me banish Shar from these lands.”
Tav kept her eyes on their hands. Another memory – Brother taking her hand during her induction into the Order. Charging her with her mission, to protect Selune’s light.
A more recent memory overshadows Brother. Shadowheart, moonlight framing her face as she looks down at Tav kneeling at her feet. Tav repeatedly whispering that she is Shadowheart’s.
Tav looked up at Halsin. “I will help you, Halsin. We will break this curse in Her Name.”
Halsin smiled. “Thank you, friend. You do not know what this means to me.” Tav returned a half-smile. The Underdaark, a land shrouded in Shar’s darkness, the tadpole. Her future was overwhelming.
She barely listened as Halsin pointed to another Selunite temple in the east. Her heart was beating too fast to pretend to listen to the history of another dead group of her people. Thoughts sprint through her mind.
No matter what, she was going to have to go to the Underdaark. She heard her mother’s pleading voice, begging her never to stray far.
No matter what, she was going to have to walk through Shar’s cursed darkness. Tav would go months without her Lady’s guidance, entire moon cycles without reprieve from shadows. Her stomach knotted, her breakfast threatening to come up. Her breath quickened until she was gasping. Her vision tunneled.
Halsin caught her hand again. “Tav? Tav, are you alright?” She snapped back into focus. She forced her breath to slow and mustered a nod. She needed to calm down.
She focused on movement she saw behind Halsin. Lae'zel was packing and Gale followed her, picking things up after her. He didn’t stop moving his mouth.
Should they even go to the creche? Shadowheart would be adamant that they shouldn’t. Tav could hear Shadowheart’s voice telling her she was stupid for even considering it.
Tav watched as Lae'zel whipped around excitedly, gesturing wildly toward Gale. He looked on with a growing smile. She thought of their early morning spars and Lae'zel’s dry jokes. She thought of her quarterstaff leaned up against her tent, stolen in the night and returned polished. She thought of nights when she wandered the camp because she couldn’t sleep. Lae'zel, up late keeping watch, would tell Tav stories of the astral sea.
Tav resolved herself. They would go to the creche because Lae'zel needed to. They would figure out the path to Moonrise after ridding themselves of the tadpoles. Besides, Tav would rather fight with Shadowheart about the creche than talk about the promise she just made Halsin.
She looked over at Shadowheart’s tent. Shadowheart stood there, arms crossed. She was staring at Tav’s hand in Halsin’s. Her eyes flitted to Tav’s pendant, hanging out. Shadowheart winced and grabbed her wrist. She quickly turned around and went back into her tent.
Charlotte and Aria knelt in the back of the Hall of Worship. Each morning, the entire cloister prayed to Lady Shar. Aria assumed it was morning, anyway; she hadn’t seen the sun in weeks.
Charlotte always insisted that they arrive to prayer early. As soon as they were kneeling, she set about her worship wholeheartedly. She bent her head in prayer, whispering in Lady Shar’s ear. Aria watched Charlotte – her lips parted slightly, her blonde hair hiding her face. Aria admired her commitment, her faith.
Aria bent her head and folded her hands in front of her. She felt like she was miming the movements. She knew the words to the prayers, the praises she was supposed to offer the Nightsinger. But her heart wasn’t in it. The prayers didn’t bring her peace or comfort. Eternal darkness didn’t call to her.
Aria let her mind wander to her empty past. What could she have possibly gone through to lead her to Shar? She wanted to trust herself, but how could she? She knew nothing of who she was before. Or about herself now, for that matter.
All she had was the horror of her nightmares. Screams of echoed in her mind. Rivers of blood flowed into cascading in waterfalls down to endless darkness. Eyes, entirely black, carrying no emotions…
Charlotte bumped Aria’s shoulder. Aria looked at her out of the corner of her eye. They shared a smile. Aria corrected herself. Maybe she did know more than nightmares and pain. She was fiercely loyal. She was protective. She could define more of herself because of Charlotte.
And just a few days ago, she almost lost Charlotte. Aria could feel anxiety claw up her throat thinking about it. It made her want to take Charlotte’s hand, to make sure she was still there.
The near-death experience hadn’t broken Charlotte. Aria supposed you couldn’t be more broken than when you came willingly into Lady Shar’s embrace. But it changed her. It hardened her. Charlotte had not chosen violence; it had been forced down her throat. Aria was now teaching her to wield it. When they weren’t in classes, they sparred. Each time they faced off, Aria could almost feel crisp early morning air in her lungs. She could hear muffled shouts and words she didn’t understand. Another half memory.
Since her battle with Gabriel in front of the Mother Superior, her body felt normal again. Her reflexes were sharp, her movements were subtle and powerful. She could sense each neuron, flex each muscle. It all felt so familiar.
She snuck a glance at the other three initiates, also relegated to the back of the Hall. Narkissa’s broken nose, crooked and off-center. The split in Gabriel’s lip and his black eye, ruining his smug face. The Mother Superior eventually allowed the clerics to see to them, but instructed them to leave some of the damage to remind them of their failures. The failure that Aria had served them.
Gabriel met her gaze and his mouth twisted into a sneer. Her shoulder burned where he’d embedded his dagger. Something cold and sharp flickered in her chest. She let a small smile settle on her face. There was one facet of Lady Shar’s church that she was learning to embrace. Cruelty. She wanted to take all the ambiguous hurt that haunted her nightmares, and inflict it on others until they begged for mercy. Her loss in exchange for their pain. And Gabriel was a perfect target.
The room grew dark; the time for prayer was starting. Dark Justiciar Blacktree stood before them and began. Aria turned away from Gabriel and faced forward. Charlotte clasped her hands together so tightly her fingers were turning white. She prayed with such fervor there was a shine to her brow. Aria couldn’t muster the conviction. She murmured the prayers as the shouts began to ring throughout the hall.
“Mistress of Darkness, protect our steps!”
A chorus of “Hear our prayer!”
“Singer of Night, guard our secrets!”
“Hear our prayer!”
“Lady Shar, shield us from the light!”
Aria rolled her eyes. Sneaking, darkness, secrets. She got it. Blacktree started her lecture, and Aria closed her eyes. She wanted to be released from this eternal darkness bullshit. She wanted to feel the sun on her face. She wanted to watch the moon hover over a lake, its reflection bouncing in the water. Charlotte elbowed her, and turned back to the preaching. Aria should know better. If one of the dark justiciars thought that she wasn’t devoted to Shar, the punishment would be severe. She refocused and half listened to the lecture.
After what seemed like forever, Blacktree knelt down by the others. This deviation from routine piqued Aria’s interest. Usually, they’d start a meditation on the darkness. The calming presence of nothing, or whatever it was Aria was supposed to be reflecting on. She typically took naps.
Suddenly, everything went black. This wasn’t the typical darkness that fell throughout the temple or during prayer. Aria’s darkvision couldn’t penetrate it. Aria couldn’t see Charlotte. She couldn’t see her own hands in front of her. It felt heavy, it sunk to the bottom of her lungs when she breathed in. She felt pain, frailty. Her breathing got more shallow and rapid.
A visage appeared where Blacktree was moments ago. A figure so bright compared to this darkness it hurt to look at. But Aria couldn’t stop staring. It was the Mother Superior, her ornate silver Dark Justiciar armor gleaming. Deep purples and gold adorned the mail. Her skin was bright and illuminated, Aria could see the red of her lips and the green in her irises.
“Do you know what true darkness is?” The Mother Superior spoke in a low voice, challenging her audience. She walked slowly across the front of the hall. Aria shivered. When Mother spoke, it felt like the darkness pressed against her skin. It was so cold in the room. Aria placed a hand on her sternum, trying to slow her breathing.
“Do you understand what darkness is capable of?” Aria’s skin began to itch. The air felt like weights in her lungs. It crawled behind her eyes and into her ears. She was drowning in it.
“Attachment. Hope. Love.” The Mother Superior scoffed. “All but temporary salves to the pains of existence.” The itching became prickling. The air burned her trachea. Aria rubbed her throat, willing relief to reach her lungs.
“For when attachments abandon you, when hope betrays you,” The Mother Superior paused momentarily, her expression shifting almost imperceptibly. “When your love withers…” She stopped walking and turned. Aria could have sworn Mother was looking right at her. “...their absence will suffocate you. It will make the darkness unbearable.”
A thousand knives pierced Aria at all once. She fell to her hands, doubling over from the pain. A fit of coughing threatened to spill over. Aria tried her hardest not to make a sound – such an act during prayer would surely put her on the torture rack. She heard screams echoing in her head. Thousands of unknown dead flashed before her eyes. Aria wanted to gouge her own eyes out, claw the skin from her face.
“But if you give yourself over to darkness, give up the attachments of this mortal world…” The pain stopped suddenly. The screams were silenced. Aria took a deep breath, the cool air soothing the burning in her lungs. Sweat dripped from her face.
“It will embrace you. It will comfort you.” The Mother Superior stood still now. Her head tilted toward the ceiling, her chest puffed out. She lifted her arms from her side, palms out.
“She will gift you endless power. She will protect you from hope.” The Mother Superior paused and took a deep breath in. Aria found herself mesmerized. There was no hurt. There were no thoughts, no nightmares. Only the Mother Superior and her unending darkness. “She will save you from pain.”
The hall hummed. “Only through Lady Shar, Lady of Loss, can we be protected. Give yourself over to her! Leave yourself in her embrace!” The Mother Superior raised her voice, commanding. The humming got louder, and Aria felt the rumbling in her throat. She had joined in. Aria watched as the tendrils of darkness began to push into the Mother Superior’s mouth, into her nostrils.
“Serve Her, only Her! Empty your heart of falsehoods!” The humming got louder and louder, Aria’s own volume increasing. The Mother Superior’s eyes rolled into the back of her head.
Aria was beyond her own body, her own mind. She was nothing. She belonged only to shadows. When The Mother Superior opened her eyes, her green irises were gone. Only black.
The humming stopped. Silence stretched on. Aria felt herself reattach to her mind, her body. She felt disappointment, craving the release from the unnamed ghosts that haunted her. The Mother Superior’s next words were only a whisper. “Embrace her loss so that you may be spared pain.”
Black tendrils covered The Mother Superior’s face and body. As if eaten by the shadows themselves, she disappeared. Aria could see nothing. There was only silence. There was only darkness.
Charlotte gently touched her shoulder. “Aria? Are you okay?” Aria blinked open her eyes. She was still kneeling. The Hall of Worship was nearly cleared out. Charlotte stood before her. “You have been sitting here for quite some time.”
Charlotte knelt and took Aria’s trembling hands into her own. Aria looked up into Charlotte’s blue eyes. They held a growing concern. Aria stammered. “I… I was moved by The Mother Superior’s lecture today.”
Charlotte nodded vigorously. “Her words resonated in my bones.” Aria saw something flash in Charlotte’s eyes. “The promise of nothing is tempting. It was difficult to give up my small taste of blissful ignorance.” A weariness passed over Charlotte. Aria squeezed her hand.
Now, she could understand why Charlotte was drawn to Lady Shar’s ways. She offered an escape from the horrors of the world. Relief from the nightmares that plagued them. After the Mother Superior’s lecture, she was drawn to it herself.
Charlotte’s eyes widened suddenly. She dropped Aria’s hands, quickly standing up. Aria heard a throat clearing behind her. She scrambled to her feet. Charlotte stood straight and looked down. Aria assumed the same position, eyes and head turned down.
The Mother Superior stood before them. “Charlotte.” Aria watched from the corner of her eye as Charlotte raised her head to meet The Mother’s stare. “You are alive.” Her voice was severe, angry. The Mother Superior stepped forward and grabbed Charlotte’s jaw. She twisted Charlotte’s face, searching Charlotte’s neck. “And you carry no evidence of your mistakes.” She dropped her hand, leaving red marks on Charlotte’s face where her fingers had been.
“And you.” Aria looked up. The Mother Superior looked down on her, eyes pinning Aria to the spot. She was angry. Her eyes bore through Aria, like she was seeing everything that Aria tried to hide. “This was your doing. This worthless louse couldn’t take a breath last time I saw her.”
The Mother Superior stepped closer to her, her nose inches from Aria’s. “You will meet me in my quarters.” Mother was practically snarling. She turned on her heel and strode away. Aria released the breath she had been holding and looked over at Charlotte. Her fear was reflected in Charlotte’s eyes.
Aria stood before the dark door to the Mother Superior’s quarters, a hand raised to knock. She paused briefly as her guts twisted. A bead of sweat dripped from her temple. The Mother Superior was not known to be forgiving. She still had time to turn and run. But what would happen to Charlotte if she did? Aria could take whatever punishment the Mother Superior inflicted. Charlotte was alive. She took a breath, swallowed her hesitation, and knocked.
The door swung open and Aria took a step into the room. The Mother Superior was sitting at a desk, her quill dashing across paper. There were rows and rows of parchment on her desk and the surrounding tables. Books were spread out and open, notes written in the margins. A large map hung on the wall, with several markings at different spots.
Aria felt frozen in place. The Mother Superior’s long braid hung over her shoulder, its ends brushing against the desk. She was no longer wearing her armor, but a simple black dress. A plunging neckline, as always. Aria tried to swallow to clear her throat, but her mouth was dry.
“I didn’t call you here to ogle.” The Mother Superior didn’t even look up from her writing. Aria walked quickly to the chair in front of the desk and sat down. She kept her eyes downcast.
“Your friend is not dead,” The Mother Superior continued to write. “Even though I ordered it so.” Aria watched her hands and said nothing.
The pen stopped scratching against the parchment. “In fact, I believe I ordered her death twice.” Aria’s palms were sweating. She opened her mouth to find something to say.
Before she could make a sound, a hand had twisted itself in her hair and wrenched her gaze upward. Aria was face to face with the Mother Superior. She stood above Aria, lording over her. Aria felt a cold, sharp metal edge against her throat. The Mother Superior snarled, “You will look at me when I speak.”
“Yes, Mother Superior.” Aria looked up at the Mother Superior, holding her icy gaze. Aria saw her green eyes, the brown flecks that speckled her irises. Shadowheart’s eyes were steeled, but after a few moments Aria could see her resolve waver. Her eyes glossed over for a moment, like she was far away. Recognition, hurt, anger all passed Shadowheart’s face rapidly. The pressure of the dagger on her throat lessened slightly. Shadowheart inhaled sharply, and her eyes darted briefly to Aria’s lips. When her eyes refocused, the anger roared back. But something else nested within that anger. The red on her cheeks and her uneven breaths made her desire obvious.
Aria was confused. It was unlike The Mother Superior’s flawless veneer to break, to betray her emotions in any way. What was the game here? Yet this interaction felt familiar. These small gestures were intimate. Purposeful or not. A roaring desire dwarfed her own thoughts.
“You deserve punishment for your insolence.” Shadowheart tried to keep her voice even, but a sultriness dripped in. Aria couldn’t tell if Shadowheart was threatening or daring her.
The moment hung in the air as Aria considered her options. Shadowheart’s gaze pinned Aria, her hand pulled her hair further. She expected an answer.
“Then deliver it, Shadowheart.” Shadowheart paused, her eyes wide and surprised. Shock was plastered on the Mother Superior’s face. She released a short exhale like she had just been punched in the gut. Her grip loosened in Aria’s hair. Aria smiled deviously, foolishly thinking she had the upper hand.
Fury flooded Shadowheart’s features. Her eyes narrowed, brow furrowing. Aria didn’t feel the dagger at her throat anymore. Before Aria could process anything more, Shadowheart’s thighs were straddling her knees, Aria could smell her lilac perfume. Her mouth was mere inches from Shadowheart’s chest. A memory danced in the back of Aria’s mind, lilac in her lungs and the warmth of a body pressed against her.
A hand wrapped around Aria’s throat, yanking her up to standing. Aria’s nose lightly brushed against Shadowheart’s. She could feel the hot air of Shadowheart’s exhales.
“Have you forgotten,” Shadowheart moved her hand up Aria’s neck toward her jaw. She dug her fingers into Aria’s skin. Her voice was low and dangerous. “Who the fuck you are talking to? I am the Chosen of Shar.” Shadowheart practically spit the words on Aria’s face. Aria gasped, unable to breathe. Her hands clawed at Shadowheart’s fingers, desperate to pry them off her neck. “The Mother Superior of the Cloister of Solemn Embrace. The First True Dark Jusiticiar in a Century.”
Shadowheart tightened her grip on Aria’s throat and threw her down. Shadowheart’s leg hit Aria’s knees at the same time, knocking her legs out from underneath her. Aria crashed hard onto the black marble floor.
Aria coughed, the air forced from her lungs and through her bruised throat. She put her hand against her chest and moved to get up onto her elbow. Shadowheart stepped down on Aria’s chest, pushing her back into the marble. Her high heel felt like a dagger threatening Aria’s heart.
The Mother Superior stood over her. She stood straight up with her head tilted high. She sneered at Aria, like she was insect caught beneath her foot. Her eyes looked down on Aria. “And you are nothing.”
Shadowheart took her foot off of Aria’s chest and started slowly circling Aria. “Get up, initiate. Kneel before me.”
Aria scrambled to her feet and knelt before the Mother Superior. She kept her eyes on Shadowheart. The Mother Superior walked up to her until she stood directly in front of Aria, her waist at Aria’s chin. It was like she was shrouded in a shadow. Aria could only see her nose and lips; her eyes were completely covered in darkness, leaving no way for Aria to tell what Shadowheart was thinking or feeling. Aria felt a need to cower, to make herself smaller, but she forced herself to keep her back straight and head lifted. Defiance ignited in Aria’s chest.
“A whelp in need of punishment.” Shadowheart slapped Aria across the face. Aria gritted her teeth, her cheek burning.
“A pet that requires a beating.” Shadowheart slapped Aria again. Tears welled in Aria’s eyes, but she slowly turned her head back to Shadowheart, her eyes looking where Shadowheart’s eyes must have been.
“A toy for me to use.” Aria braced herself for a third slap. Instead, she watched as Shadowheart stepped back, her face now completely shrouded and her body just a moving shadow. She watched as Shadowheart began to bunch the fabric of her dress in her hands, the hem of the dress slowly rising. Shadowheart’s dick was before Aria.
Shadowheart stepped right up to Aria. Shadowheart growled. “Open your mouth.”
Aria wanted to defy, to refuse. But she deserved the punishment. She opened her mouth.
Shadowheart grabbed the back of Aria’s head, thrusting herself down Aria’s throat. Shadowheart held Aria’s head in place while Aria sputtered and choked.
“I will remind you who I am.” Shadowheart pulled her dick out of Aria’s mouth, letting the tip rest on Aria’s lips. Shadowheart’s face appeared from the shadows, her green eyes hungry and furious. “If you make a sound, I will cut out your tongue. If you touch me, I will cut off your hand.” Shadowheart pushed herself back into Aria’s mouth, all the way to the hilt. She paused again and lowered her voice. “And if you look away, I will pluck those pretty eyes from your head.”
Shadowheart set a relentless pace, thrusting her cock in and our of Aria’s mouth, pushing deeper down Aria’s throat. Aria held her breath, her throat burning. She kept her eyes on Shadowheart. Shadowheart didn’t break her glare. Her face was unreadable. Aria started losing feeling in her legs, her abdomen. Her thoughts slowed until there was nothing at all.
And then it was only Shadowheart’s eyes and her cock in Aria’s throat. Aria could see ferocity and arrogance in Shadowheart’s eyes, both giving way to a dark hunger. But then Shadowheart softened. Aria’s vision began to tunnel, but she held her eyes on Shadowheart. She saw hurt. She felt pain.
Aria was disconnected from her body. Everything was dark, and there was no pain, anxiety, memories, nightmares. No racing thoughts, no confusion. Only darkness. A respite. She kneeled in the darkness. She wanted it to take everything away. All the guilt and grief that belonged to someone else. All the anger and fury she had at her past self, to submit her to this. She wanted it to take the fucking ache in her.
She opened her mouth wider. She kept her eyes open. Darkness reached into her mouth and down her throat, choking her. She sucked it down, she wanted to swallow the nothing. She watched as Shadowheart closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She saw a dozen Shadowhearts in the same position, heads thrown back in ecstasy. She felt Shadowheart come in the back of her throat, and then saw the rest of Shadowhearts revel in their pleasure. Some said nothing, biting their lip to hold back sound, eyes sparkling and chests heaving. Some of them moaned and gasped, some cursed and snarled.
She heard them say her name. Some of them screamed it like it might bust from their chest. Some of them whispered it, as they would a prayer. A chorus of Shadowhearts singing her name.
Tav. Tav. Tav. Tav.
Aria awoke on her back, her jaw sore. Her mind was cloudy and her muscles were numb. She wheezed as she propped herself up on her elbows. The Mother Superior was standing over her, dusting off her dress. She ran her hands over her black hair and fixed her bangs. The Mother Superior collected the dagger that had fallen to the floor, hitched the slit of her dress up, and sheathed the dagger in the belt hidden high on her thigh. Shadowheart’s fingers lingered over the leather strap before she let the dress fall. Aria couldn’t bring herself to look at Shadowheart’s face.
The Mother Superior walked over to her desk and sat down. She began looking over a piece of parchment. “You may go,” She said coldly, not even looking at Aria.
Aria clambered to her feet and headed to the door. As she reached for the door handle, the Mother Superior spoke. “Aria.” Aria turned slowly, forcing herself to hold the Mother Superior’s gaze. Aria’s knees shook.
The Mother Superior almost seemed to soften for a moment; her eyes widened and a small smile tugged at the corner of one of her lips. But it was gone in instant. Shadowheart tilted her head down so she looked at Aria through her brow, her bangs curtaining her eyes. “Do not disrespect me again.” Aria nodded and then jumped to open the door. Her instincts screamed at her to escape.
After she closed the door, Aria lingered a moment. She felt old ghosts returning to haunt her heart, her thoughts tripping over one another until they devolved into unintelligible buzzing. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away. Such a display of weakness would not be tolerated. She stood up straighter and walked down the hall, trying to silence her incoherent mind.
Notes:
*screeching*
i nearly cease to exist out of sheer embarrassment when writing smut, but yeah sure ill type it up during work. Duality.
Chapter 6: she hides your secrets
Chapter Text
Tav looked through the smoke of the fire at the large temple to Lathandar in the distance. Even this far away, she could see the large rising sun carved into the stone. It was larger than anything she’d seen in her thirty-six years, certainly more grandiose than any structure dedicated to Selune. Tav had to admit it was breathtaking, even if she wanted to roll her eyes at its extravagance. Jealousy clawed at her throat; children of Selune weren’t afforded such a luxury as permanence.
Tav stretched her legs, trying to ease the stiffness in her thighs and calves. Lae'zel had set a punishing pace as they hiked through the mountain range earlier this week. A few days ago, they’d started to see trail markers that guided pilgrimages to the monastery. Tav thought back to the large stones, faded and covered in brambles and overgrowth, indicating a lack of upkeep. The grand structure had likely been abandoned long before the githyanki arrived. Tav scoffed under her breath, bitterness rising. All that work, and they’d still met the same fate as all followers of the light.
Tav closed her eyes, shutting out the looming threats the temple symbolized. The mountain breeze sent a chill through her spine, and the darkness behind her eyelids swirled. Tav took a deep breath. When she pushed the last of the air out of her chest, a vision of the Selunite monastery she grew up in emerged from the dark. A modest stone structure sat among a sea of old oak trees, a few small wings with several floors all flowing from a main hall. Entire portions were in ruin, although it was difficult to tell from afar which parts had caved in and which were purposeful open-air wards. The walls were layered with different stones of various ages, each telling the story of their resilience – the monastery had been built back up after each attempt to destroy it.
Tav smiled as she looked down at the monastery from her treetop perch. She had almost completed the rite; she followed Selune’s light all the way home. Tav allowed herself a moment of pride. She smiled and basked in the glow of the full moon.
As she walked back, Tav surveyed the surrounding area, taking in as much detail as possible with her mother’s voice in her head reminding her to always be vigilant. She had been hiking for so long that her legs hurt. She was exhausted, but her mother taught her to never lose focus. She clutched the moonstone pendant on her neck. Her mother had put it on her a few hours ago and made Tav promise to come back. And Tav kept her promises.
Tav blinked away the moonlit trees, breathing heavily as she ran down the hallways after her father. Her bare feet landed silently on the navy blue rugs that lined the floors. That was part of the game – she needed to catch him, but she could really rub it in his face if she snuck up on him.
Desperation pushed Tav’s lungs harder. She felt a growing pressure to win, and it distracted her. By the time she saw the shadow next to her move, it was too late. Her father swept her off her feet and scooped her into his arms. Momentary shock quickly melted to giggling as she crawled out of his arms and onto his back. He carried her into the Hall of Worship on his back, and they whispered songs of praise to Selune.
As they walked through the wooden doors, Tav’s eyes widened. The full moon shone down through the open-air roof, illuminating the monks singing their hymns. Tall statues of Selune stood around the hall, her hair made of mirrors and gems to reflect the goddess’ moonlight.
One voice rose above the rest of the choir. Her mother’s voice. Tav watched the rainbow of refracted moonlight dance over her mother as she sang. Her mother looked over and met Tav’s gaze, her smile dazzling and eyes shining with adoration. Tav felt warmth grow in her chest, as if her ribcage contained the sun itself.
The voices went silent and her vision went black. A single scream echoed in her mind. Fear wrapped its claws around her spine. It was her mother’s scream.
Tav sprinted down the same hallway, jumping over pools of blood soaking into the carpet. She glanced for only a moment at the faces of the dead, just long enough to confirm they were not her parents. The closer she got to the hall, the more bodies she found strewn about. Refugees with spears in their throats. Armor-clad strangers with silver masks. Monks clutching their pendants to Selune even in death.
Tav snuck through the opening to the Hall of Worship. Because of the new moon, the room was bathed in darkness. Monks were still fighting off silver-masked intruders, their spears and quarterstaffs clanging against one another. One of the beautiful statues had been decapitated; her severed head lay on the ground covered in the blood of a dead monk.
Tav finally found her father across the room. He knelt on the floor next to her mother who laid still, a pool of blood collecting around her head and neck. Her eyes, the same color as Tav’s, were unblinking.
Her mother.
She sprinted toward her parents, ducking through various fights. Her father slowly put his hands up, pleading for mercy from a silver-masked man pointing a spear at his chest. Tav needed to get to him, needed to protect him. An arm wrapped around her waist, and she was lifted through the air. A hand covered her mouth to stop her from yelling out. She kicked and tried to free herself, but the restraint held. She looked up to face her assailant – Brother. Her teacher. A monk in training, in charge of passing the teachings of Selune to the young ones. Relief washed through her – someone who could help her! She pointed to her father to show Brother who was actually in need of his help.
Tav looked back at her father just in time to see the spear go through his chest. He fell next to her mother. She screamed, the sound muffled against Brother’s large hand. He pressed her to his chest and started running the wrong direction, away from her parents. Tav attempted to fling herself out of Brother’s grip, biting and kicking and screaming. But he held her tighter to his chest and crossed the hall. He kept running – out of the room, down hallways, toward the safe houses. Tav stopped flailing. Large tears spilled over until she was sobbing into his shoulder.
Tav opened her eyes. The temple to Lathandar swam back into view. The fire, her friends around it chatting after dinner. Tears threatened to fall. Tav could feel grief weighing on her ribs, pulling her into its dark void. She blinked back her tears and drew a few shaky breaths. She looked up to the sky for comfort but found little. Only a sliver of the moon remained, the new moon just days away. Tav’s grief felt sharp as fear flared in her chest. Sharrans across the coast were preparing to shed Selunite blood for their goddess. Tav tried to focus on the crescent moon, but darkness tore at her peripheral vision. She felt a small whirlpool of anxiety forming in her gut. Her imagination was just waiting for a match to set her fear alight. She whispered a prayer to Selune for guidance, for protection. There was no answer. There was never an answer.
Tav reflexively pushed herself closer to the comfort of the body sitting next to her, ramming her thighs and shoulders into Shadowheart’s. Tav gasped and then froze. She broke a rule. It wouldn’t be befitting for a Sharran to display affection toward anything, let alone a follower of Selune. And was Tav really seeking solace from her nightmares from a Sharran?
Tav braced herself for the pang of hurt that happened each time Shadowheart pulled away from her. Tav would reach out to touch her, and Shadowheart would recoil. But Shadowheart didn’t move now.
Tav snuck a peek over at Shadowheart. Her eyes were closed and her lips were moving rapidly in silent prayer. The fear in Tav melted away with the warmth of Shadowheart’s touch. She felt safe, the threatening visions forgotten in the surprise of Shadowheart’s sudden act of affection.
Shadowheart glanced at Tav from the corner of her eye. Tav had been unabashedly staring, and her face turned red under Shadowheart’s gaze. A small, affectionate smile flashed across Shadowheart’s face, but it turned quickly to disgust. Shadowheart flinched and shifted away from Tav, grabbing and pulling her wrist close to her chest.
Tav’s embarrassment deepened the color of her cheeks. She kicked herself for her stupidity, she knew better than to seek Shadowheart’s embrace outside of their nighttime rendezvouses. The cold air wrapped itself around Tav, and she shivered. She felt alone, the darkness swirling around her clouding her vision. She could feel the memory demanding her attention, so she tried to meditate and calm down. The whirlpool in her chest grew bigger, deeper. Consuming her heart and her lungs. Tav began to breathe heavily, trying to get more and more air.
Her breathing only got more difficult as she sprinted through the familiar street. She was searching desperately, but the night was only getting darker. She turned the street corner and saw a figure wearing a silver mask and a circlet inset with a black stone. They stood before a young woman on her knees, holding a spear a few inches from her chest.
Tav sprinted faster, but she knew how this would end. She had seen it a thousand times. The sharp scream echoed in Tav’s head. She coughed when she realized she had screamed aloud.
“Tav?” Shadowheart touched her shoulder lightly as she whispered her name. Tav looked up – everyone around the fire was staring at her. As she glanced at Shadowheart, whose eyes were full of concern, Tav’s gaze caught on Shadowheart’s circlet, the black onyx stone staring back at her. Tav’s skin itched, her lungs were on fire. She needed to get away, she needed to run. She stood abruptly and dashed out of the camp into the dark.
Once she’d put considerable distance between herself and the fire, Tav walked along the trails through the mountainside. The trees stood tall around her, the wind clapping their leaves together. Stone trail markers were green with plants and moss. Their plaques were so worn the prayers etched into them were barely legible. Tav found a plaque that had black streaks covering the words. When she looked closer, she saw Sharran markings. The air stilled and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She took a breath – this was simply a confirmation of Halsin’s recollection of the history of this land. Tav looked up at the crescent moon hanging low in the sky. She should return to camp, where Shadowheart would be waiting up for her. She continued walking, but now she whispered prayers to Selune as she went.
As the camp drew nearer, Tav’s prayers rang hollow and shame took root in her ribcage. Praying to Selune as she walked into the embrace of a Sharran? She looked up at the crescent moon, now setting. It was about to be the darkest part of the night, with several hours left before the sun rose. Shadowheart wouldn’t see Tav while the moon shone above. One of the rules.
Tav could see the campfire through the trees as she approached the camp. The anticipation she felt seeing the dark figure outlined by the firelight dulled the guilt of her transgressions against Selune and the anxiety over the morrow. Shadowheart was waiting for her. Tav’s heart pounded in her chest as she thought of Shadowheart’s voice, her touch, her kiss.
An arm wrapped around Tav’s hip and pulled her behind an ancient oak. She heard a whisper in her ear: “Ah, ah, darling. No moving, if you want to keep that pretty neck of yours.” Tav jumped and then swore internally. Caught unaware - just as she had been when she met Astarion. Her mother’s teachings rang in her head. Be vigilant. Do not get distracted.
Astarion breathed down her neck, his teeth just grazing her skin. “May I?” he purred in a low voice. “You know how much you need me in the coming days.”
She pushed Astarion’s arms off her. As she turned to face him, she saw the grin on his face. She looked around the trunk at the figure sitting by the fire. Shadowheart was waiting for her. “Not tonight.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about her brooding.” Astarion flicked his eyes over to Shadowheart and then back to Tav. “She would wait there several more hours for you.”
“What do you want, Astarion?” She couldn’t keep the annoyance from her voice. Shadowheart was waiting for Tav, and Tav got such limited time with her. Astarion could talk to her any time of day.
Astarion grabbed Tav’s jaw and forced her to look at him. She blinked as she found herself suddenly looking into his red eyes. “I see why she does this,” he smirked, raising his eyebrow. Tav rolled her eyes and shook him off, taking a step back.
“Something is up with you.” Astarion’s voice dropped from its jovial tone to a more serious one. “The show-stopping scream at dinner was one indicator. But you have been jumpy and temperamental the last few nights.”
“Nothing is up with me. I just had an injury act up at dinner.” Tav tried to give her best impression of blowing it all off, acting like the grief and the fear and the want didn’t weave knots in her chest.
Astarion threw his hands in the air. “Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?”
“I am fine, Astarion.” Tav moved to take a step forward, but Astarion stepped in tandem and blocked her. His smile was sharp; he already knew he was going to win this fight. He kept his hand on her collarbone, and they were shoulder to shoulder. His breath hit her neck.
“Oh, but you must be finding something to occupy your time when she is too busy on her knees for her goddess instead of for you.” Astarion cooed at her. Tav turned her glare on him, annoyance bubbling into anger. “I see you sneak to Halsin’s tent when she is in prayer. And here I thought you were an innocent maiden of the moon. She has really corrupted you, darling.”
Tav snorted and stepped back from him. “That is not at all what is happening here.”
Astarion smiled at her. “Then correct me.”
“We are strategizing for what is to come.” Tav glanced up at the sky. She was already late.
“I swear, pulling details is harder with you than with the Sharran.” Astarion put his hand on his hip, his annoyance now leaking through. “Tav, what exactly is to come?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Tav started walking down toward the fire.
“Well, maybe I’ll ask Shadowheart. You wouldn’t keep any secrets from her… And we all know she loves talking about her opinions.” Astarion spoke to her back. Tav stopped and turned to face him. His smile bared his teeth. He had pinned her.
“For fuck’s sake, Astarion.” Tav said, exasperated. “Fine. Fine!” She threw up her hands. She stared at the ground in front of her, unable to make eye contact. If Shadowheart found out that Tav told Astarion of this before her; hells, if Shadowheart found out about this at all, it would be over. Tav would lose her. Shadowheart would pick Shar.
Would Tav pick Selune?
Tav forced herself to take a breath and began. “Moonrise Towers is where these tadpoles came from, but it is much more than that. A paladin to Shar rules over the land there. Halsin fought his army of dark justiciars over a century ago. When they cut them down, they didn’t die. When they killed the dark justiciars, they were raised from the dead. The land is cursed with shadows, and those without light are consumed by the darkness.”
Astarion raised an eyebrow. “And you are going to play hero, bringing light to the land of darkness? That is on brand for you.” Astarion snorted, but his voice dropped. “Does she suspect anything?”
Tav shook her head. “Halsin and I have been very careful to keep this secret.”
“Keeping secrets from a Sharran. We better hope you are more than careful.” Concern briefly knitted itself into Astarion’s brow. “It is almost the new moon; are you sure you should be alone with her?”
“And what would you know about the new moon?” Tav was surprised.
“I know they famously feature sacrifices of Selunites.” He laughed coolly, his eyes clouding over as if remembering something. “I am a vampire, a child of the night. I know very well what occurs on new moons.” He looks back at Tav, his face serious. “And I imagine you do as well. Is that why you screamed out after dinner tonight?”
Tav didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. She looked off into the dark forest as the memories forced themselves into her mind. The tears threatened to spill over again. Astarion reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “Darling, are you alright?”
Anger bubbled in Tav. She allowed herself to show weakness so frequently today. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic. “Yes, Astarion. Now may I?” she seethed. Astarion put up his palms in surrender. He stared her down, like he could see right through her.
“Be careful, dear,” he whispered before walking off into the forest, likely looking for a meal. Tav took a breath and closed her eyes. The past threatened to drown her, the upcoming trials weighed on her shoulders, dragging her down. The memories of a lifetime of new moons swam before her, infecting her daydreams and nightmares. Shar’s presence was only getting stronger as they moved East, and it was only going to get worse as they traveled into the cursed lands. But she had the new moon, the creche, and the Underdaark to survive first.
“You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.” Tav’s heart leapt as hands grabbed her waist and pinned her to the tree. Tav opens her eyes to Shadowheart’s eyes staring her down. All of the emotions washed away as the lilac filled her nose.
This was the second time tonight she’d let her guard down. She was so unfocused, and so close to the new moon. Tav’s eyes flicked to Shadowheart’s circlet. So close to a Sharran.
Shadowheart must have seen the turmoil in Tav’s face, because her expression softened. Her eyebrows knit together as her eyes wandered Tav’s face. Shadowheart brought her hand up to Tav’s jaw but hesitated for a moment. Shadowheart always exercised restraint. Working within the rules. Within Shar’s rules.
Shadowheart brushed the pads of her fingers across Tav’s cheek. The brief contact was enough to make Tav’s knees want to buckle. She wanted to collapse into Shadowheart’s arms. She wanted to forget everything while buried in the crook of her neck. She wanted Shadowheart to run her hands through her hair and kiss her gently.
But that was not how this worked.
Shadowheart’s hand quickly retreated and her face hardened. She grimaced before fixing her face. She narrowed her eyes at Tav, the sweetness of the previous moment vanishing. “What were you discussing with Astarion that was so important that you were late?”
Tav swallowed and she tried to keep a straight face. She needed to avoid lying; Shadowheart would know. She pointed to her neck. “He wanted to feed ahead of the creche.”
Shadowheart raised her eyebrow slightly. She was suspicious of Astarion, as he was of her. Yet, they had struck a strange friendship primarily based on embarrassing Tav and gossipping about camp situationships. Shadowheart’s nostrils flared slightly – Astarion also made Shadowheart incredibly jealous, particularly when he drank Tav’s blood.
Shadowheart tried to appear nonchalant, but Tav could hear her intense curiosity. “And you said?”
“I refused.” Tav swallowed, nervous energy creating a buzz in the back of her throat. It was technically true. Shadowheart beamed at her, her eyes lighting up. Shadowheart ran her fingers along Tav’s neck, along the mark Shadowheart re-etched each night. Her touch was deliberate as she claimed territory across Tav. Her hand moved up to caress Tav’s jaw and moved her face close to Tav. Shadowheart lips lightly brushed against Tav’s.
“My good girl.” She whispered against Tav’s lips. Shadowheart’s lips pressed into Tav’s, kissing her with intent, with purpose. Tav’s world was only Shadowheart, only her tongue against Tav’s bottom lip, her hand clutching her neck, fingers wandering down Tav’s torso.
Shadowheart pulled away, but leaned her forehead against Tav. She closed her eyes. Tav couldn’t help but watch with awe. Tav lifted her hand to Shadowheart’s pink cheek, and Shadowheart leaned into her palm for a moment, opening her eyes. Tav’s heart swelled. She wanted to memorize everything about this moment. Shadowheart’s breathiness, her soft gaze, her blush.
All too quickly, Shadowheart turned to kiss her palm and stepped away again. Tav’s heart dropped in her chest. She would crawl to the ends of Faerun for these small acts of love, the teasing of affections. Shadowheart knew just when to break the contact to make the loss of her touch ache the deepest.
Shadowheart gave Tav a strange look. Guilt? Regret? Maybe she wished she hadn’t kissed Tav at all. Shadowheart refocused the conversation, burying whatever she’d just felt with pragmatism. “I am pleased you said no, but you may actually need to lend him blood. We will need him at full strength, seeing as you and Lae'zel are marching us into certain death.” She eyed Tav, the creche a freshly mended topic. By the time Tav got the nerve to tell Shadowheart where they were going, the trail they were on had already become obvious. And if Shadowheart had somehow missed that, she couldn’t have missed Lae'zel’s shift into an even stricter and more determined demeanor.
Shadowheart had been briefly angry, though any residual feelings about their travel plans soon dissipated when they got on the trail. She was very interested in surveying the scenery, examining the surrounding satellite temples and prayer stops. Tav briefly wondered if Shadowheart had seen the signs of Shar’s presence.
But it was still contentious; Shadowheart had made Tav promise not to keep secrets from her, and Tav had immediately broken the promise. She glanced at the circlet again. She had to keep secrets from Sharrans, she must protect.
Guilt washed over her when she looked back into Shadowheart’s eyes. Teasing and passive aggression had washed away from her eyes, replaced with concern. Tav felt a sudden, intense need for Shadowheart. She wanted to give her heart to Shadowheart. She wanted Shadowheart to know her.
The flash of a spear. A scream echoed in her head. Tav closed her eyes tightly.
Shadowheart stepped forward and placed her hands around Tav’s neck. Her touch grounded Tav for a moment. Shadowheart reached up to place one hand on Tav’s cheek and Tav leaned into her caress. A bit of uncertainty in her voice, Shadowheart asked, “Tav, are you okay?”
Tav opened her eyes. Shadowheart stared at her, looking back and forth between Tav’s eyes. The softness, the care in her green irises made Tav want to fall into her arms and tell her everything. If she opened the floodgates, she would let it all out. To confess her fear of new moons would be to share the horror of her memories. The horrors committed in honor of Shar. The slaughter of her parents, her people, her lovers. Decades of slaughter on new moon nights.
A chorus of screams ring in her ears. Tav broke eye contact as her attention was drawn again to the circlet beneath Shadowheart’s fringe. Sharran.
Protect Her children.
“Of course. I’m fine.” Tav readjusted herself and dropped her gaze to avoid Shadowheart’s intensity. Tav felt Shadowheart’s breath change and knew Shadowheart didn’t believe her. The hand against her cheek twitched, and Tav winced in anticipation, but Shadowheart only began to rub Tav’s face with her thumb. She curled her fingers under Tav’s jaw to her chin, and lifted Tav’s face. A dark current flashed in Shadowheart’s eyes.
“I can tell you are troubled, Tav.” Her honey-thick voice didn’t match her dark gaze. Shadowheart narrowed the distance between their faces, so that her lips were hovering just above Tav’s. “My poor, sweet Tav. Do you want me to take all of it away, love?”
Shadowheart ran her hand from teh back of Tav’s neck to her collarbone, where she danced her fingers along Tav’s chest. She ran one finger down the front of Tav’s shirt, pressing gently against Tav’s sternum. She never took her eyes off Tav’s. “You can give all your burdens to me.” Shadowheart cooed at her, her breath hot against Tav’s lip. Tav’s mind narrowed to just Shadowheart and her touch.
Shadowheart’s entire hand swept Tav’s stomach, and she began to tug and play at the hem of Tav’s pants. Shadowheart bit her lip and dropped her gaze to watch her hand explore Tav. Tav gasped at the contact, a deep ache replacing her anxieties. Shadowheart looked back up at Tav.“You can lose yourself in my touch.”
Tav wanted this. She wanted to run, to escape it all. And in Shadowheart’s arms, she could. She would feel safe. Warm.
Tav caught Shadowheart’s lower lip and draped her arms around Shadowheart’s shoulders. Shadowheart returned the kiss with a rare kind of hunger. Shadowheart dropped her hand from Tav’s face and ripped open her shirt’s buttons. She bit Tav’s lip as she ran her hands all over Tav’s torso. Tav moaned, breathing all of her desire into Shadowheart’s mouth. Shadowheart scraped her nails against Tav’s back and pulled Tav’s lower lip with her teeth, prolonging Tav’s moan.
Shadowheart released her grip on Tav’s lip. She moves her mouth up to Tav’s ear. “I will give you everything, but you’ll have to tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.” Shadowheart wrapped her hands around Tav’s bare lower back and pulled back several inches from Tav.
Tav looked up, breathing heavily. Shadowheart wasn’t hiding anything in her look and Tav saw her entirely vulnerable. She could feel her warmth, see her eyes wide.
Tav dropped her hands from the Sharran’s shoulders and resisted the urge to look away from Shadowheart’s eyes. “I can’t.”
Shadowheart’s mask broke, hurt spread across her features. Tav watched the light in Shadowheart’s eye crack; she looked crestfallen. In an instant her face was fixed, but Tav could see it lingering in her eyes. She sneered at Tav. “You are willing to bare yourself at my feet, night after night. You want me to kiss you and touch you until you cry my name. But you are unwilling to tell me what you are thinking? You lie when I ask you if you are okay? Is this just a fuck for you?”
Shadowheart turned away and scoffed. “I see you. I know you. I see when the memories take you away from me, the way they haunt you. I see when your fear grips you, tensing your every muscle. I saw the scream on your face tonight before it happened.” Shadowheart met Tav’s eyes again. “I can tell when you hide something from me – a flash of hesitation, the rush of guilt. I can see it in your face now.”
Tav balled her fists. The words were jumbled in her mouth, desperate to be let out. She did want Shadowheart to see her, all her wounds and her memories. She did feel guilty that she couldn’t give Shadowheart what she wanted.
Shadowheart watched Tav struggle within herself. She grabbed the collar of Tav’s shirt, pulling Tav closer to her. Her eyes were pleading. “Tav. Please, I know you want to tell me. What is going on?” Shadowheart’s voice was soft. Tav pled desperately with herself to confess it all – her past, her nightmares, her plan with Halsin. To a Sharran.
No. Not a Sharran. Shadowheart. Sharran. Shadowheart.
Protect Her faithful. Protect them from Sharrans.
All Tav could manage was to shake her head, her mouth a tight line.
Hurt didn’t cross Shadowheart’s face this time. She was too practiced to make the same mistake twice. She stepped back. Her face darkened and her eyes narrowed on Tav. When she spoke, her voice was cold. “I warned you that I would know you, and I do. I know how you deceive me. I heard your conversation Astarion, but it was only confirmation of what I already suspected.”
The Shadowheart that had held her moments ago was worlds away, banished by Tav’s attempted secrecy. Tav dropped her gaze, unable to face her betrayal.
“I see you go into Halsin’s tent, Tav. And then you patter over to me, looking like a puppy who knows it’s done something wrong.” Shadowheart spat the words. “And I just keep giving you a fucking treat.”
Shadowheart’s voice rose, a hot fury burning in her face. “You trust a fucking frog to march us into a murderous cult, and for what? For her to feel better? You trust the fucking druid we saved from goblins to plan our strategy for Moonrise Towers so you can play hero. And you tell this all to a vampire who lusts after your blood, but you hide it from me?”
Tav’s shame melted into anger. As if Shadowheart didn’t set the rules of their relationship – secrecy, restraint, manipulation. As if it wasn’t Shar that sat between them.
“Don’t lecture me on keeping secrets, Sharran.” Tav growled before she could stop herself. Shadowheart inhaled sharply, staggering backward. She recovered quickly, covering the moment of vulnerability with a dark stare. She continued to pace backward, her eyes still on Tav. Regret pooled in Tav’s chest.
Tav stepped forward. “Shadowheart, wait. Please, I..”
“Oh, it’s Shadowheart now?” Shadowheart sneered. “Enjoy the moonshine while you have it, Selunite. You won’t be able to hide from me for long.” Shadowheart turned and walked back to camp. Tav watched Shadowheart’s braid swing back and forth as she let the guilt and grief devour her heart.
Aria walked through the dark hallways of the cloister with their beautifully patterned, black marble floors. The only light was a low, purple-hued flame in a lantern. It was late; Charlotte had gone to sleep several hours ago. Aria couldn’t sleep, so she gently got out of bed and slipped out the door of their shared room. It was like this most nights, avoiding sleep until it could become darkness so deep her nightmares couldn’t find her. The nothing was comforting, soothing. Aria could understand that now.
In nothing, there were no nightmares. No screams. It was bliss, it was quiet. She ached for it. She would do anything to get it. Pain was the price, demanded by Lady Shar to pay for the sins of her sister setting the world aflame. But what else could Aria do? Her nightmares were worse. Empty stares of the dead, mocking her failures. Suffocating darkness flaying her skin, burning the flesh with its touch. A spear thrust through the heart. An obsidian tipped dagger.
She could only remember flashes of the scenes that played in her head, but the emotions were etched into her body. Terror crushed her spine and crawled its way to her twisting heart. Fury seized her fists and commanded every sinew to tense. Sorrow rang out in her chest and reverberated into each rib.
Each nightmare would end with Aria waking in a cold sweat. She would bite down hard on her tongue to prevent whatever sob, cry, or scream that sat in the back of her throat. She often drew blood, but she wouldn’t cry out. A sound like that would surely draw attention.
Aria could suffer all this, if she had to. But it was the grief that lingered for days after her nightmares that made Aria run from sleep. It weighed down her bones. It pressed through the spaces in her ribs. It choked her.
These feelings didn’t even belong to her. The faces in her nightmares were only vaguely familiar. But they were enough to feel like she lost something. Like she’d lost everything.
And so she spent her nights sneaking and exploring the cloister. She found the food stores and nicked an extra fruit to share with Charlotte. The sweetness made Charlotte giggle aloud; it was a delicacy after weeks of rice and bland, unseasoned chicken. Aria also collected secrets as she walked. From the shadows, she bore witness to the drama and relationships of the dark justiciars and preachers. Aria would recount the gossip to Charlotte while they did their daily chores. Charlotte would laugh, and then Aria would remember what it felt like to be in the sun.
On this night, Aria came across a hallway she hadn’t been down before. It was a small offshoot from the basement storage and ended in a sturdy wood door. As Aria walked down it, an ache started in her fingers, pain pulsing from her rings. Mumbled words in voices she didn’t recognize clouded her mind. She turned back hastily – there were clearly some things she shouldn’t bother on the other side of the door. She kept her head down and picked up her pace.
As she put distance between herself and the door, quiet echoes of footsteps tingled Aria’s ears. She made her way toward the sounds, jumping between the shadows to keep hidden in the maze of hallways. She smiled devilishly to herself; it was probably Dark Jusiticar Adrielle and whichever of the two acolytes she was seeing. Adrielle was getting sloppy, and Aria expected the triangle would soon be exposed. Charlotte had been looking forward to an update on this story. Light spilled into the hallway from an open door, like a small puddle of water. Shadows moved and rippled through the light. There were people in the room. Aria crouched and slinked along the wall beside the open door. Aria was smiling, thinking of the way Charlotte would lean in, eagerly listening to her newfound gossip, when she recognized the voice. She peeked into the room.
There was one lamp illuminating the room behind three figures. One, a wood elf adorned in dirty and broken justiciar mail, sat on a chair. The Mother Superior stood before him. Nocturne lingered in the back, watching closely.
Aria whipped her head back around the doorframe, and the smile fell from her face. More than just her nightmares had been haunting Aria at night. Shadowheart’s hands on her body. Her grunts and moans. Her dick sliding down Aria’s throat, spreading her mouth open. She could feel the strain of her lips, taste of her sweat…
Aria wanted Shadowheart. She missed her.
Aria shuddered, and shook her head. She did not want The Mother Superior’s attention. She had been avoiding the Mother Superior since the punishment in her office. Nothing good could come of crossing the Mother Superior.
Her thoughts still drifted back to Shadowheart. Blurred sensations of a gentler Shadowheart caressing Aria’s face. Ghost pain from lashes of a much crueler Shadowheart across Aria’s back.
She should run, she should escape. She should stay.
The Mother Superior’s cold voice was like a slap to Aria, snapping her back to reality. “Welcome home, brother.” Aria’s curiosity won her over, and she crouched down, tipping her ear to listen. “Tell me of your scouting mission.”
“Y-yes, my Lady.” There was a tremble in the justiciar’s voice. “As the eight of us made it to the edge of Rethiwin, it became very apparent that a few hundred people have settled there.” He paused. “All Selunites.”
The Mother Superior said nothing.
Aria heard him clear his throat, and he continued. “We were immediately spotted by the Children of Selune Order that has been forming there. We couldn’t assess the status of the temple of Shar.” He paused again.
The Mother Superior still said nothing.
“We were tortured. Held up for weeks.” Aria can hear the weariness in his voice. “They sent me back to tell you what Rethiwin is now.”
“And why did they pick you?”
“I…I don’t know, Mother.” He stammered.
The Mother Superior let the intense silence extend a moment longer. Venom dripped into her voice. “So then tell me what Rethiwin is now.”
“High Priestess to Selune, Isobel Thorm, reclaimed her father’s tower and the land in honor of Selune and her children. They say she is Chosen by Selune. A druid circle has formed over the region under Archdruid Halsin. He has led the healing of the shadow curse. And there is a monk starting an order there.”
“What is the monk’s name?” The words tumbled out of the Mother Superior’s voice in a surprising display of emotion, of eagerness.
“I do not know, Mother Superior. They didn’t tell me.” Another pause. “They asked me to deliver this invitation.”
The silence that followed was thick. Aria couldn’t see the anger that must have seeped over the Mother’s face but she could imagine it. She felt a sharp prick of fear.
“I, Isobel Thorm, High Priestess of Selune of Moonrise Towers, invite the Mother Superior of the Cloister of Solemn Embrace...” Shadowheart scoffed. “My, my. Addressed and everything, Nocturne. Proper and polite.”
Another pause. Mother Superior’s next words were low and slow, cold as ice. “And how did the High Priestess know that you answer to me?”
The jusiticiar’s voice wobbled again, rising in pitch. “They tortured us, Mother! Please!” Aria heard a low, wet gurgle. She had heard the sound plenty – a knife in the throat.
Nocturne scoffed. “Shadowheart, was that really necessary?”
Aria couldn’t hear any kind of response. She wondered what was happening on the Mother Superior’s face, in her head. She considered leaning back into the doorway, but she knew she couldn’t risk being found witness to this conversation. Aria heard the dagger being dislodged.
Shadowheart responded evenly, “I do not tolerate treachery.”
“As if I haven’t heard that one before.” Nocturne scoffed again. “He would have been more useful alive for a few days to get all the information.” Nocturne’s voice shifted, a more stern tone. “You are being crass, and it's cracking through your cool demeanor. You are letting your residual connection with her get in the way of your duty.”
“What do you want from me, Nocturne? The best lead we have had on her in years.” Aria could hear an overwhelming emotion in Shadowheart’s voice, and it surprised her. She raised her voice louder. “And that fucking whore to the Moonwitch dangles her in front of me.”
“You hear the word monk and jump just that quickly? We don’t even know if it is Tav.” Nocturne lowered her voice, composed herself. “We’d have a better idea if you had just left him alive.”
A few beats of silence pass. “How deep are these feelings, Shadowheart? Why have you not cut them off?” Nocturne softened her voice. “You know their consequences as well as I do.”
“Trust me, the Dark Lady revels in the pain of teaching me this lesson.” Shadowheart whispered. As if nothing had happened, her voice returned to the commanding Mother Superior. “What is done is done. Our focus shifts, we must respond to our invitation… Nocturne, go fetch me components necessary for a Speak with Dead ritual.”
Aria scrambled back, watching Nocturne’s shadow grow in the doorway as she approached it. Aria got to her feet and swung around the corner, darting into the shadows just in time.
After turning the corner out of sight, her thoughts overwhelmed her.
Isobel. Halsin. Shadowheart. Selune. Moonrise. Shadowheart. Tav.
Shadowheart. Tav.
The names bounced in her head in rapid succession, and Aria couldn’t focus on any of them. Aria rubbed at her forehead as she stepped quickly through the corridors. Black marble, purple rugs. She blinked. Grey stone, navy rugs. She blinked again. She is Aria. She worships Shar.
She worships Selune. She worships Shar.
Aria wanted to tear her own hair out over these intrusive thoughts. Were these even her thoughts? She felt frustrated that she couldn’t control her mind. She felt like a puppet, a vehicle for someone else’s emotions.
Aria had made a fatal mistake – she lost focus on her surroundings. She stopped and looked around the darkened hallway. She couldn’t place herself; she hadn’t been here before. Cold air kissed her skin, and Aria shivered. A wisp of shadow moved in the shallow light of the sconce above her. Aria made her way quickly down the corridor. She looked around frantically for something recognizable, or somewhere to hide.
Another shadow swirled in the corner of her vision. Aria started to walk faster, her footsteps heavier. She heard the sound of each step reverberate through the air and bounce off the walls. She flinched, but the urgency to get away from this place overwhelmed her cautiousness.
The two sconces on either side of the wall blinked off. And then the next pair turned off. Aria whipped around to see more sconces darken. Another pair, and the next until Aria couldn’t see any light along the hallway in either direction.
Within seconds, shadows wrapped tightly around Aria. Her back slammed against the wall, her head rebounding off the stone with a thud. A forearm pinned her shoulders to the wall. When Aria opened her eyes, the Mother Superior’s face swam in her blurry vision.
A softer Shadowheart swirled with the hard stare of the Mother Superior. Shadowheart, under a full moon, many lunar cycles ago.
Aria blinked, and Shadowheart’s eyes came into focus. Aria breathed deeply, attempting to tie herself to reality. She focused on Shadowheart. Shadowheart’s mask was supposed to display coldness, evenness.
But Aria heard Shadowheart’s breath catch when their eyes met.
Shadowheart put her weight behind her forearm, forcing the air out of Aria’s lungs. “How interesting. A little mouse, sneaking where she shouldn’t be.” Shadowheart purred as she tilted her head slightly. Her eyes were locked onto Aria’s. “You would be foolish to think you would go unnoticed by the cat, so you must be seeking my attention.”
Shadowheart laid the flat side of the silver dagger against Aria’s cheek. Aria gasped as the metal touched her skin. Shadowheart closed her eyes momentarily and took a sharp inhale, lost in the moment.
Lost in Aria’s gasp. Aria’s heart leapt.
The moment ended. Shadowheart opened her eyes and stared at Aria from under her brow. She seemed to retain her composure with a grimace. The muscles of her forearm flexed against Aria’s chest.
“Answer me.” she said in a low voice. Her eyes narrowed on Aria.
Shadowheart’s eyes didn’t leave Aria’s, and Aria didn’t dare look away. She swallowed, willing herself to maintain eye contact with Shadowheart. Fear made her heart flutter now.
“I…I apologize for disturbing you, Mother Superior” Aria stammered as Shadowheart stared at Aria’s lips. “I don’t sleep well, and so I…”
Shadowheart pressed her thigh against Aria’s thigh. She moved so her face was only a few inches from Aria’s. Aria could just feel the tickle of Shadowheart’s breath on her lips. She wanted to inhale, lock the air in her lungs until they burned. Keep whatever part of Shadowheart she could.
“So you seek my attention?” Shadowheart stared at Aria’s lips while she spoke. It was so blatant, so forward. So unlike the Mother Superior.
Shadowheart’s eyes flicked back to meet Aria’s gaze. Her mask was cracked open. There was a pink in her cheeks, and her breathing was shallow. Her pupils were wide, her eyes vulnerable. Shadowheart wanted her, that was becoming clear. But there was more than desire in her eyes. There was a hollow sorrow. An ache.
Hesitation crossed Shadowheart’s face for a moment, and Aria no longer felt Shadowheart’s arm against her chest. Aria didn’t dare look; she kept her eyes on Shadowheart’s.
Shadowheart’s hand tentatively reached for Aria’s face, hovering for a moment before gently cupping her chin. Shadowheart ran her thumb across her cheekbone, her gaze never wavering from Aria’s.
Aria knew she should stay away from the Mother Superior. She wanted to be anywhere but here. But her body compelled her. Her lips demanded it of her.
When her lips touched Shadowheart’s, it felt like coming home. The dagger scraped the side of her face as she closed the distance between them, and a tear of blood rolled down Aria’s cheek. A small sacrifice. Pain for bliss. Shadowheart’s hips pinned Aria to the wall. Aria moaned into Shadowheart’s mouth, she wanted more. She wanted Shadowheart’s fingers inside her. She wanted her tongue, her breath, her teeth. Anything that Shadowheart would give, she would take.
Shadowheart’s hand slipped back into Aria’s hair, tangling her fingers in Aria’s brown curls. For a few moments, she was vulnerable. She let herself get lost in Aria’s lips, pulling moans from her throat. As if realizing herself, Shadowheart sank her teeth into Aria’s bottom lip and tore herself away from the kiss.
Shadowheart began to kiss down Aria’s jawline to her neck. She hovered above the pulse in Aria’s neck, and her breath tickled. “So quickly you forget whose attention you are dealing with.”
Aria didn’t process the whispered threat until she felt a shooting pain in her abdomen. Aria gasped as she felt the dagger bite into her flesh, she hadn’t even noticed the dagger moving. Shadowheart had stabbed her. Shadowheart had stabbed her? Skeletons in a burning room. Obsidian on the tips of spears.
Shadowheart played with Aria’s hair, twirling it around her finger. She watched herself run one of her fingers down the side of Aria’s face and then along the artery in Aria’s neck. Aria held in gasps and forced herself to follow Shadowheart’s eyes.
Shadowheart’s eyes quickly snapped back to Aria’s as she twisted the knife slowly. Aria clenched her fists, her whole body tensed to hold in the cry of pain threatening to erupt from her. Shadowheart tilted her head, watching Aria writhe. “How many times must I teach you this lesson?”
The pain was too great, and Aria hissed through her teeth. Shadowheart’s eyes darkened, her face twisted into a cruel smile. As pain radiated through Aria’s abdomen, screams began to echo in her head.
Shadowheart ripped the dagger out of Aria’s her stomach. Aria gasped and doubled over in pain. As she tipped forward, Shadowheart caught her in her arms. The moment slowed before Aria. She could feel the blood pumping through her wound. She could see how the Mother Superior relished in delivering a punishment. In teaching a lesson.
She could see the desire still in Shadowheart’s eyes.
Shadowheart ripped open the buttons to Aria’s shirt, placing a hand over the wound. She began to whisper, and Aria felt warmth radiate from her hand. Aria could feel immediate relief as the magic worked its way through her body. The cool touch of Lady Shar passed through her arteries and through her wound. It pushed the thoughts from her head. She felt nothing.
All she could register was Shadowheart’s hand over her abdomen. All she could see was Shadowheart watching Aria intently while whispering the spell. The magic stopped, but Shadowheart didn’t move her hand. She felt nothing from the wound, but an ache in Aria still simmered, unsatisfied.
The end of the spell brought Aria back to clarity. She looked at Shadowheart through her brow, breathing heavily. Shadowheart looked down at her. “I do love breaking strong women. They make the best servants.”
The Mother Superior pulled her hand from Aria’s shirt and stepped back. She put on her flawless mask and a sweet voice. “Until next time, mouse.”
Shadowheart slipped into the darkness, and Aria’s thoughts descended on her like vultures.
Aria opened the door to her dormitory and snuck into bed. She found Charlotte lying on her back, and Aria curled up into her shoulder. Charlotte wrapped her arm around Aria's ribs, opening her eyes slowly. She kissed Aria’s forehead. “You are back late tonight,” she whispered before settling back into sleep.
Aria watched Charlotte’s chest rise and fall with the heaviness of sleep, trying to lull herself into some sort of peace. But her heart beat too loud in her chest, and her thoughts assaulted her.
What the fuck had just happened? Aria trembled. She had been stabbed by Shadowheart. The healed flesh felt foreign, and it irritated her nearby skin. Every time Aria closed her eyes, she saw spears piercing flesh, bodies staked through on perverse display, and then she would feel the pain of the sinking dagger all over again.
Charlotte rolled over in her sleep and curled into Aria, as if instinctively sensing Aria’s tensing body. Aria breathed matched her breathing, settling herself.
Aria didn’t know why these memories triggered. She didn’t know what these borrowed emotions for the Mother Superior meant about her past. She didn’t know how overwhelming her desire would be when her body was pressed up to Shadowheart. A desire that led to her being stabbed.
Aria kept watching Charlotte, desperately trying to make sense of the last few hours. Charlotte was the one good thing in Aria’s life, she had to protect Charlotte. Maybe her body was willing to sacrifice itself for Mother Superior, but Aria was unwilling to put Charlotte at risk.
Aria had to be more careful if she was going to keep Charlotte out of the gaze of the Mother Superior. The Mother Superior was not to be trifled with. Aria would have to be more calculated in her interactions with Shadowheart, play this game she was so interested in playing. She was the Chosen of Shar, everything was a game.
But was it a game? The look in Shadowheart’s eyes – the longing, the loss. Shadowheart had cupped her face so tenderly, so gently that it had to be genuine.
No. It wasn’t genuine. Shadowheart had stabbed her. Aria would have to reign in her feelings for Shadowheart. She could not let her lust to kick her out of her own head again.
Aria ran her hands through Charlotte’s hair, feeling more resolute. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the ache that settled within her. She tried to not think about Shadowheart’s hands, her lips, her moans.
When she finally fell into an uneasy sleep, Aria dreamed of a dark land, shrouded in unnatural shadows. She looked around as hundreds of justiciars clashed with Harpers and druids. Bodies littered the ground. Blood covered the land, boiling and bubbling.
Aria was holding an obsidian tipped spear. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She whipped around, shoving the spear at the exact right moment. A perfect hit, nicking the left ventricle of the heart. Aria looked over the gasping Selunite, a half-drow with silver hair. She watched the light leave her eyes.
The half-drow had Aria’s eyes.
Notes:
the middle is going to mid. idk.
thanks yall for pinging me and reading it. it still seems wild that there are people that read my writing.
updates will be irregular, i am also writing nonfiction (thesis) and it is terrible. writing this brings me a lot of joy so I do feel motivated to finish this.
Chapter 7: darken my step
Notes:
Okay friends - I do have to say this chapter is a dial darker. Shar has our girl in a chokehold and Shar is Bad.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The temple to Lathandar only grew larger and more imposing as they came closer to the promise of a cure. Only a day’s hike away, the temple loomed tall in the disappearing light of the sun. No matter how large or grand the structure was, it would disappear in the darkness of the new moon. Tav was so desperate to stop the sun from sinking she considered praying to Lathandar, begging him instead of Selune. But nothing could stop Shar from claiming tonight.
Tav shivered, and she instinctively shifted to lean into Shadowheart next to her. To take refuge in her presence. But Shadowheart wasn’t there. She hadn’t been sitting next to Tav at dinner since the night Tav refused her.
Shadowheart had avoided acknowledging Tav at all since that night. Tav could ignore the guilt and fear roiling in her chest when they were hiking, as she practiced sparring with Lae'zel, and during her prayers to Selune under the waning moon. But when she lay on her bedroll after the moon set, looking out at the stars poking through the darkest night sky, Tav’s body screamed for Shadowheart. Her stomach twisted, her skin prickled with heat, her heart pounded in her chest. She would sit up to give in, but each time, her thoughts roared back.
Shadowheart. Sharran. A flash of a spear. Screaming.
And she would curl back into the bedroll, tears welling in her eyes. Shadowheart wanted her, all of her, and Tav couldn’t give it.
Tav looked up at the darkening sky. It mocked her cowardice, and she cast her eyes back down at the fire. She tried to keep her mind together, in the present, and far away from the Sharran across camp preparing for the new moon. Away from the memories that chased her. Away from the wounded look Shadowheart flashed when Tav shut her out. From the sweat that dripped down Shadowheart’s temple the last time she had had her hand between Tav’s legs.
“This is a remote spot for monastery.” Wyll’s voice snapped Tav out of her thoughts, her attention shifting back to her friends around the fire. She hadn’t been alone in zoning off; all of her companions shifted awkwardly as they tumbled out of their thoughts and into reality. For several seconds, no one responded.
“They probably wanted to make sure the monks avoided temptation.” Tav whipped around toward the sound of Shadowheart’s voice. She floated toward the fire, a glass of wine in her hand. She wore a small smirk and her eyes danced with a shiftiness that Tav couldn’t read. Her steps made no sound as they approached her spot next to Tav. Her clothes didn’t rustle when she sat. Tav couldn’t even hear the air moving in and out of Shadowheart’s lungs. Complete silence.
Tav stilled. She stared at Shadowheart, but Shadowheart didn’t spare her a glance. Tav opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. What could she say to an angry Sharran on a new moon? What could she say to someone she was falling in love with but couldn’t trust? What could she say after that night?
Astarion beat her to the punch. He let out a twinkly laugh and flashed a devious smile. “It does seem like the monks we know are easily tempted.” Shadowheart turned to face him, her face hardening slightly. She put her hand on Tav’s knee, caressing the inside of her thigh. Tav stopped breathing and stared at the hand. She wanted to grab it and pull Shadowheart into her tent. She wanted to take it and throw it back at Shadowheart, to recoil in disgust like Shadowheart would. She wanted to throw herself at Shadowheart’s feet and beg forgiveness. She wanted to burst into tears and ask Shadowheart what any of this meant.
Instead Tav looked over at Astarion, whose grin only widened. He was playing with Shadowheart, and he had her where he wanted her. But Tav didn’t understand his game. He knew it was the new moon – why was he goading her?
“And what would you know about tempting our monk, Astarion?” Shadowheart’s fingers danced on Tav’s skin. She was dangling Tav in front of him like a prize she’d won. This was a game Tav had gotten used to. Sometimes they’d team up, squishing Tav between them to make her squirm. Sometimes they would fight over her, warring with glares, wit, and increasingly less subtle threats. It was difficult to tell which was coming.
Astarion licked his lip, flashing his canine teeth as snuck a glance at Tav. He then stared back at Shadowheart, his face sultry and daring. “I know a thing or two.” Astarion lifted his goblet and drank deeply, but didn’t take his eyes off of Shadowheart. Shadowheart’s nails dug into Tav’s knee so hard that Tav winced. Shadowheart sneered. Tav looked down into the dirt, and heat rose to her cheeks.
“But look at these mountains!” Karlach stood, oblivious to the ongoing battle for Tav’s soul, and made a sweeping wave of the mountain sides around them. “The height of temptation!”
Shadowheart released her iron grip on Tav and paused for a moment. Surprise broke through her mask. She hadn’t expected Karlach’s comment and was disarmed by it. “I meant temptations like vices – pleasures of the flesh. Surely you know this, Karlach?”
“Monks are supposed to avoid things like drinking themselves into a stupor, or getting whipped by a priest of pain.” Astarion never resisted a dig at Tav. He paused for a dramatic flair as he looked pointedly at Tav. “I heard some of them even require an oath of celibacy. But all of them probably frown upon climbing into bed with the enemy, hmm?”
Shadowheart whipped her head toward Astarion, but her expression didn’t carry the venom it held before. But Gale interrupted before she could get out a quip, “There were some that even banned bathing! They celebrated their pungency as proof of their devotion. ‘To think is to stink’ was the motto of one ill-fated brotherhood near–”
“Pleasure of the flesh, indeed.” Lae'zel mused under her breath before Karlach groaned in frustration, cutting off Gale.
“I know what a temptation is! I met a demon who married a mountain. It’s a thing!” Karlach practically shouted at them. Her voice echoed through the mountains, as if the peaks were agreeing with her.
There was a moment of silence before the giggling started, and then everyone was laughing. Even Astarion joined in. Tav risked a glance at Shadowheart and found her Shadowheart laughing. A real laugh. Time slowed as Tav watched Shadowheart throw her head back and clench her stomach. Tav watched, enraptured, her own smile breaking on her face. For a moment, there was no Shar, no new moon. There weren’t rules or restraint. It was just Shadowheart, sharing a small bit of herself with the world. Joy warmed Tav’s cheeks, pushing away the fear and anxiety and guilt.
“I think the thin air might be getting to you, Karlach.” Shadowheart said to Karlach through a twinkling laugh. Tav could almost pretend. Pretend that she could reach out and hold Shadowheart’s hand. Pretend that Shadowheart’s hand on her leg was enough, because Tav could get affection and reassurance whenever she needed. Pretend that she heard Shadowheart laugh like that all the time. Pretend that she could confide in her, whisper trepidations and secrets while Shadowheart held her.
The others turned to hear Karlach’s grand story, but they all fell away when Tav looked at Shadowheart. Shadowheart was squeezing her eyes tight, wincing as she grabbed her right wrist. Tav glanced at the back of Shadowheart’s right hand, which carried a small wound that Tav hadn’t noticed before. It was perfectly spherical and colored a harsh, necrotic black. The radiating veins pulsed with a purple hue, as if the wound was burrowing roots in her vasculature.
It became clear to Tav - Shadowheart was in pain. Pain. Her horrid goddess must behind this.
In a moment it was over; Shadowheart was back to smiling, lightly laughing along with the others. But Tav could see the difference in her breathing, her eyes, in everything. This wasn’t Shadowheart, but one of the many masks she wears. Tav stared down at Shadowheart’s hand, still clenched tightly in a fist.
How often did this affect her? How long had this been going on? Tav admonished herself for not being more perceptive, for not noticing.
Why would Shadowheart have this curse from Shar in the first place? Anxiety prickled Tav’s skin as the implications snowballed in her head.
Tav looked up and found Shadowheart’s eyes on hers, having caught Tav staring. Tav couldn’t quite read Shadowheart’s face. She attempted to keep her expression even, but Tav saw the briefest flash of softness. The moment passed quickly, and Shadowheart shot Tav a sharp look. Her voice was a whisper, but she still managed her characteristic lilt. “I should start charging you to stare, but the price is higher than you’re willing to pay.” She moved her hand to her hip, trying unsuccessfully to hide it out of sight. Tav’s eyes were still drawn to Shar’s brand, and it appeared to stare right back at her.
Tav stammered. These were the first words Shadowheart spoke to her, and they made Tav’s tongue feel swollen in her mouth. “Shadowheart… your hand…” She made a small gesture toward the injury but held back. Tav wanted to reach out, hold Shadowheart through her pain. Embrace her until she knew she could drop the mask.
“I saw you – clasping your wrist. You were in pain.” Hide her. Hide her away from her wretched goddess.
Tav could do none of those things.
She looked up at Shadowheart, but Shadowheart wasn’t looking at her. She was staring off at the sun, spreading its final rays as it set under the mountains. The final moments before Shar lay claim to the world. Before Shar would claim Shadowheart.
Shar. Shadowheart. Sharran. Shadowheart.
When Shadowheart turned back to Tav, her face had lost all evidence of its softness – the crinkle of her eye, her smile lines, her beautiful eyes – the parts that so often betrayed Shadowheart’s stoicism, sharing her secrets with Tav. The eyes she stared into now were sealed doors. A flash of purple crossed Shadowheart’s irises.
“I thought you didn’t need a lecture on secrets, Tav.” Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Tav and stood up. Shadowheart loomed over her, and Tav could see dark wisps of shadow jump off Shadowheart’s skin. Like a pin dropped in her hollow chest, Tav felt an inkling of apprehension. Something was off.
Before Tav could move or speak, Shadowheart bent over Tav so that her lips were on Tav’s ear. Her breath on her skin. Her hand cupping her face.
“I hope you aren’t still afraid of the dark, Selunite.” A rush of cold air hit Tav’s face as Shadowheart swept away back to her tent, her footsteps completely silent.
Tav turned back to the fire and stared as conversation happened around her. Karlach boomed with laughter. Gale made Astarion groan. Lae'zel sharpened her sword and chimed in every so often. Tav was surrounded by them, but she felt far away. Alone. The cold air made her shiver.
But it was not the air that chilled her, it was a cold body. Not the warm presence she craved, but someone closing the distance between Tav and her companions. Astarion’s smiling face came into view, and Tav’s ears rang like a smokepowder bomb had erupted.
“Oh, Tav don’t pout,” he cooed. “I am sure she will come to whisk you away later tonight.”
Tav bristled, the anger over the dinner conversation bringing her back into the moment. “You made a point to antagonize her. About me.”
“I was just teasing our dear friend. She does love to play with her food.” Astarion rested a hand on her shoulder, and Tav felt herself leaning into it, desperate for any reassuring touch. “I am just reminding her of reasons to keep you around.”
Astarion laughed, but Tav only looked up at the dark sky. It was a new moon. There was a Sharran in camp. Protect her children.
After a few beats of silence, Astarion looked over at her. He whispered in a low voice. “Nothing too bad will happen on tonight’s special occasion, dear. I will be on guard.”
“Chk.” Lae'zel, seated on a few feet from Tav, inserted herself into the conversation. She continued to face the fire, but her yellow eyes flicked to meet Tav’s. “I too will be on guard. Anyone with any sense at all would be on a new moon with a Sharran in camp.”
“And I’d hope our Selunite friend would have enough sense to not be…tempted by the Sharran.” Astarion emphasized the last points, almost mockingly. As if it were obvious. The easiest choice.
Lae'zel snorted. “I doubt it.”
Tav sat quietly and let time pass as her companions retired to their own tents. The darkness was intense with no moon in the sky. Only a few twinkling stars pierced the black expanse. Tav’s knee bounced rapidly. Her body remembered. It knew to prepare itself even if Tav was distracted with thoughts of the Sharran in camp.
Tav appeased her anxieties and focused on assessing her surroundings. She must ensure the camp’s safety. She passed her gaze over every tent, checking for shadows. Lae'zel knelt before her tent, her sword before her. She did this every night, but Tav didn’t know the purpose of the silent dedication. The closer they moved to the creche, the more distant Lae'zel had become with Tav and the others. Their sparring lessons had continued, but their communication faded after a barrage of cruel feedback. Gale had taken this slight the hardest, and Tav watched him cast a longing glance across the camp at Lae'zel before entering his own tent. Tav knew he was going in to look at the creepy book they’d found a few days back in an abandoned village. She didn’t need to know the title to know the book was not good, it was enough to see the screaming face carved into the front cover. Tav would have to check in on him later.
As she scanned past Karlach’s tent, Tav couldn’t help a small chuckle at the sounds of her snores carrying across camp. Wyll sat outside, cross-legged with a book resting in his lap. He didn’t turn the page for several minutes, noticeably distracted.
All of these people needed something from her. They needed her guidance, her protection.
Protect Her Children.
Tav hadn’t allowed herself to connect to people in over a decade, though tonight she was back in the position she’d spent so long trying to avoid. She felt a familiar tightness in her chest, as if a tendril of grief were reaching up to wrap around her heart. Her breath quickened. Looking at Shadowheart’s tent made her heart twist further. She stared at the tent, wondering. No – guarding. Wondering. Guarding. Protecting.
Shadowheart. Sharran. Shadowheart. She must protect her friends from Sharrans. She would make this different than the other times she had failed.
The sharp-edged grief was what kept Tav on her own for the last decade. She had managed to keep it at bay by wandering from village to village, staying a week or two at most. She did what her oath as a monk of the Order of the Blue Moon bade her to do. Wander far and wide in search of Selune’s children. Shield them from darkness. Protect them from the evils that threatened them. She had learned better than to settle down or grow roots. It was easier when she didn’t let herself stick around long enough to become a familiar face.
Tav’s life as a monk hadn’t always been like that, though. When she first started her pilgrimage, she would stay entire seasons in Selunite camps. She’d been naïve, thinking they could build something permanent. She reconstructed communities from razed ground – planted seeds of a new crop, stacked stones for new homes. She had friends, lovers. She belonged.
As sure as the moon’s cycles, the Sharrans would come for them. Tav would fight side by side with her found family in the dark of the new moon. She would fight until every justiciar was dead, sometimes for hours. Sometimes the community staved off their fate for another few weeks or months, but eventually, the Sharrans would return with force. And Tav would be left standing at the end of the night, her limbs exhausted, sweat and blood dripping down her face. Her home reduced to piles of rubble. Her friends dead on the ground, looks of horror forever etched onto their faces. She wasn’t strong enough to protect them.
The first few times she lost everything, Tav led the survivors to a new camp and tried to start her community anew. But Sharrans were inevitable. The only thing that remained of all she had built were the nightmares. And so Tav stopped trying to build permanence. It was easier to watch them die when she barely knew them, easier to keep fighting if she closed herself off, separated herself from the world. It was easier to stomach all the trauma if she kept moving. She started tracking dark justiciars rather than Selunite camps. She would lead survivors to other Selunite camps and leave them with prayers and any food she had in her pack.
It was easier to feel nothing. It was easier to survive if she didn’t form attachments. If she didn’t love. Tav had been lonely, but numb. Then, that nautiloid picked her up, and she met them. Her friends. She met Shadowheart. With these people, Tav belonged. They brought joy, laughter, frustration, compassion back into her life. They brought love back to her life. She loved them. She loved her. Tav felt a flicker in her chest, and with it she could smell lilac. A memory of Shadowheart sitting on her lap, wrapping her arms around Tav’s neck.
With connection, with love, comes unpredictability. The ghost of grief returned, sharper than before. Tav could lose her friends at any moment. The fear of losing Shadowheart sliced deeper, and Tav could feel bile rise in her throat. A voice nagged inside her to cut it off now, to save herself from pain, but the thumping of Tav’s heart drowned it out. Tav couldn’t lose Shadowheart; she needed her. But to keep her would be to confess her secrets to a Sharran.
A justiciar thrusting a spear. A scream of a Selunite. She shook her head and instinctively looked up to the moon, but she found nothing but dark sky. Shadowheart was different, not just another Sharran. Tav closed her eyes and remembered Shadowheart’s soft caress from the last night, begging Tav to open up to her. Her laughter over Karlach’s absurdity. Her body bathed in moonlight, holding Tav close to her chest.
Tav didn’t want to be alone anymore. Once Shadowheart set her heart aflame, Tav couldn’t go back to being numb. She wanted Shadowheart to know her.
Tav’s thoughts raced, and her hands shook. She pressed against her sternum and focused her breaths. She thought of a calming place. She felt the warmth of another body, fingers running through her hair. She smelled lilac.
A large shadow approached her. She grabbed the quarterstaff and turned to face her attacker, but it was only Halsin that greeted her. “Ho, friend. Apologies for not announcing myself.” Tav sat back down and put the quarterstaff to rest as Halsin sat across from her. “I too am on edge on this dark night.” He rubbed his hands on his knees.
“I am sure you are very familiar with the Sharran traditions that take place on the new moon.” Halsin said in a low, grave voice. “I am only here to tell you that you are not alone tonight. I am here; we are here. You are more than what she feels for you.”
“Go. Do what you need for yourself. Walk the perimeter. Hide. Sleep. Whatever you need to do, do it. I will keep watch in camp. Your friend Astarion stalks the perimeters. And you have the sword of a githyanki at your side. You are never alone.”
Tav could only nod as she stood. She twirled her quarterstaff in her fingers and stowed it in the sheath behind her back. Her pendant burned on her chest.
As Tav began to walk toward the edge of camp, Halsin spoke again.
“Tav,” Halsin hesitated for a moment when she turned and looked at him. “The Sharran is not in her tent. Step carefully.”
Tav’s stomach fell, but she stepped into the wilderness anyway.
The cold mountain air filled her lungs as she lifted herself up another rock face. She tried to keep her breath calm and her mind focused. She could chase the nightmares away. They hid in each shadow, behind every rock, threatening to cloud her thoughts. Tav tried to lose herself in observing her surroundings. Look for the ordinary. She could hear her mother’s gentle teaching, and she felt a small boon of comfort.
Her mother’s words turned to screams in her head. Tav wanted to scream too, but she knew better. Other screams echoed, bouncing around her skull. Tav wanted to hide, but there was nowhere safe from her own mind.
She assessed her surroundings, trying to focus as her mind pressed in on her. Old trees stood towering over her. Everything was shrouded in darkness, since there was no moon to create pockets of light. She threw her back against a tree and slid down. More and more screams raced through her mind, as if their bleeding bodies were there beside her.
Tears pricked in her eyes. She begged her mind to stop. The darkness of the night swirled; memories flashed in the shadows. Her heart raced and she lost focus as the tidal wave of screams descended upon her. The ghosts of those she watched die swirled in her mind. The ones she had let die.
Tav slapped the ground out of frustration, crying out. She pushed her hands against her forehead and groaned. Anything to make them stop.
“A Selunite, all alone on the night of a new moon. And making so much noise.” Tav jumped to her feet, the adrenaline in her veins finally of use. She had already leaned into a defensive stance by the time she processed who was speaking to her.
Tav looked around for Shadowheart, but she couldn’t make out her shape in the dark trees. She heard a short, mocking laugh, and she swiveled her head, but Tav still couldn’t see Shadowheart. Her voice seemed to be coming from all directions.
Shadowheart stepped out from beneath a tree in front of Tav. The breath caught in Tav’s throat. Shadowheart was cloaked in a long, black robe with nothing underneath. Gloriously naked for Shar. Her hair had been released from its normal plait and cascaded down her back. A silver mask covered half of her face. The mask’s eyehole was just a pit of darkness. The eye that Tav could see was covered in black eyeshadow, so much that it spread down Shadowheart’s face like charcoal tears. In Shadowheart’s hand was an ornate dagger with obsidian at its tip.
Terror rushed through Tav’s veins, chilling her torso and limbs. Her mind raced, coherent thoughts bouncing away before she could grab them to ground herself. She couldn’t reconcile the Sharran that stood before her with the image she held of Shadowheart. Tav focused on Shadowheart’s uncovered green iris, clinging to its familiarity. Shadowheart’s gaze held a mocking amusement. The corner of her mouth unobscured by the mask twisted into a condescending smile. “What are you doing so far from camp, little calf? You are just asking to be slaughtered.”
Shadowheart took a step closer. Tav could see dried blood splattered on her mask. Dozens of similar masks flashed before Tav’s eyes, decorated with the blood of her family, her friends, her people. Tav blinked rapidly, willing herself to stay tethered to the current moment. “I… I just needed to walk. Find a place to pray.”
Shadowheart’s smile widened, her eyes danced with malice. She jutted out her bottom lip as though Tav were a child to be pitied. Her pitch rose, her voice a mocking coo. “Oh sweet Tav, your goddess cannot hear you. She left you here, abandoned and all alone.” Shadowheart swept a hand at the dark sky and took a deep breath. “Don’t you feel the Lady of the Night all around you? Her perfect darkness is unblemished by that traitorous bitch.”
“Selune always listens for her faithful.” Tav said in a low, slow voice, trying to keep her words from shaking. “She will always protect me.”
Shadowheart scoffed. “Always listening? Does the Moonwitch hear you moan my name? Does she know how you forsake her for just a touch from a daughter of Shar?” Shadowheart took another slow step forward, her eyes ravenous. “Selune isn’t coming to save you, Tav.” Shadowheart twisted the dagger in her hand, playing with it. “You don’t deserve to be saved.” She ran her long fingers over the large symbol to Shar carved into the ornate handle. She never stopped looking at Tav, but Tav couldn’t take her eyes off of the dark blade.
“Are you afraid, Tav?” Shadowheart’s voice was cold. She no longer wore a smile. She looked at Tav with a threatening intensity.
Tav took a deep breath. “I am not afraid of you, Shadowheart.”
Rage roared in Shadowheart’s eyes. Fury dripped into her cold voice. “Do not lie to me, Tav.” She stared at Tav from under her brow. “You cannot hide your fear from me, Selunite.” Shadowheart practically spat the final word out. “I see everything about you. I can see it in the way your eyes widen, in the shallow breaths you take.”
Shadowheart took another step forward, closing the space between her and Tav. She stared down at Tav’s neck, reaching her free hand up and tracing her fingers along Tav’s carotid artery while the dagger hung in the air. “I can feel it in your heartbeat.” Instinctively, Tav tried to step back, stumbling into the base of the tree.
The hand previously just grazing her neck seized Tav around the throat, shoving her up against the trunk. “You are afraid of Her Darkness. You are afraid of Her servants.” Shadowheart’s words were venomous. She squeezed Tav’s throat tighter. “You are afraid of me.” The cold point of the dagger touched Tav’s chest just beneath her ribcage.
Tav gasped for air, grabbing the hand wrapped around her neck. Shadowheart only held tighter. Tav kept her eyes on Shadowheart’s green iris, the only thing tying the being in front of her to the woman she loved.
Shadowheart dropped Tav and took several steps back, her head down. Tav landed on her feet and gulped the air. She pressed her hand to her chest, her father’s pendant digging into her skin. Shadowheart looked out of place for a moment – almost scared, or reluctant.
“You know what the new moon means, Tav. I owe my Lady an act of wickedness.” Her voice wavered.
“Shadowheart, please. Please don’t. I’m sorry.” Tav croaked. Shadowheart turned her face to the side and winced.
After a quiet moment, Shadowheart looked up at Tav, her stare hardened. “Neither of us have a choice in the matter. There are consequences to breaking rules.” Tav’s heart felt like it might pound out of her chest.
Shadowheart murmured something under her breath and flourished her wrist. Twisting around her fingers was an arcane energy, a luminescent purple fog.
Her face was unreadable, her voice low and quiet. “Each one of your screams will be a gift to my Dark Lady.” She reached her hand out towards Tav, curling her fingers toward the sky.
Tav turned to run but she couldn't move her legs. A shiver ran through her entire body. Her heart dropped in her stomach, her chest open for the shadows to lay their claim. The edges of her mind were hazy, and it felt like Tav’s skull was caving in. Tav felt agitation under her skin, misfiring neurons in her frozen muscles. Something was coming for her. She focused on the Sharran in front of her. Shadowheart stood with her hand up, fog still dancing between her fingers. Shadowheart lowered her head, looking at Tav from under her brow. Any signs of hesitation or reluctance were gone now. She was focused with a cold rage.
“Scream for me.” Shadowheart’s voice was ethereal. It reverberated in Tav’s head, and Tav felt her tadpole wriggle within her brain.
Shadowheart closed her fist.
Everything went black for a moment. It was almost blissful, a moment of nothing beside air moving in and out of Tav’s lungs.
The peace was ripped from her as the darkness morphed in front of her eyes, forming roiling shadows. Dread lit Tav’s limbs on fire as the shadows took a humanoid shape. She started running, her breathing quickly becoming ragged.
Tav’s legs moved too slowly, and she tripped. Cold claws grasped at her. Each touch felt like a stolen moment, a forgotten memory digging into her flesh. She resisted crying out.
Tav was flipped over onto her back. The large, humanoid shadow towered over her, its edges blurred with the night’s darkness, and Tav had a difficult time tracking it as it paced. Several times, its arms reached out to touch Tav, causing Tav to recoil from their cold, stinging sharpness. Tav got the sense that each brush of a hand was taking something that she wouldn’t get back.
The figure leaned over so that its face was inches from Tav’s. It seemed to exude darkness. Not the darkness of the comforting moment of peace, nor the darkness of a frightening nightmare. But an apathetic dark, interested only in consuming.
Its shadowy lips parted, and Tav shook violently, the cold burning her skin. The figure's chest was heavy against Tav’s. Her lips ghosted against Tav’s neck.
The figure bit down on Tav, and there was a brief moment of familiarity before Tav’s carotid artery was ripped from her neck.
Tav screamed and frantically reached to cover her neck with a hand. She found her skin completely intact. When she pulled her hand away, there was no blood on her fingers. She pressed again on different parts of her neck, but she could find no evidence of what had just happened. Her racing breath caught and she blinked several times to shift her gaze to the dark sky above, digging one elbow into the dirt to help herself sit up. But a hand on her chest stopped her before she could fully right herself.
Shadowheart squatted over her, holding her other hand up, her palm open, the hazy energy still dancing between her fingers. Tav tried to even her breathing, but her lungs begged for large gulps of air. She tried to quiet the shakes in her limbs, but her bones refused to comply. The purple magic! – this fear wasn’t real, it was only a spell. She could use this.
“I have to say, Tav. I thought you’d be braver. We have only barely begun, and you’ve already broken.” Tav snapped her eyes up to meet Shadowheart’s, flinching as she faced the mask again. Shadowheart wore a twisted smile, her visible eye alight. “Why, you are trembling, you poor thing.”
Tav couldn't think or move; terror coursed through her every neuron. She tried to focus on breaking the spell, but the fear pushed her thoughts away. Shadowheart knelt down over Tav, straddling Tav’s hips. Her robe hid nothing - her thighs, her stomach, her breasts were exposed. Her hair cascaded down her back to rest on Tav’s thighs.
“But I do love the sounds that come out of your mouth.” Tav watched Shadowheart’s gaze trace Tav’s body. Her stare was aggressive, intrusive, as if she was reading everything Tav tried to hide. Her eyes settled at Tav’s stomach. She kept one hand up balancing the arcane energy, but with her other she began to unbutton Tav’s shirt. Still shivering, Tav watched Shadowheart undo the first button. The uncovered eye widened and her breath hitched, her focus shifting. Tav could use this to distract Shadowheart to break her concentration on the spell. Then Tav could…could what? Run? Fight back? Restrain her and beg her to stop?
Shadowheart moved to the second and third button, exposing Tav’s stomach. Tav watched Shadowheart’s face soften into the woman Tav knew, the woman she loved. She watched Shadowheart’s gaze turn ravenous as she undid the next buttons and Tav’s breasts fell out of the shirt. Shadowheart rubbed herself on Tav’s thigh and groaned quietly.
Tav watched Shadowheart and, for a moment, she saw Shadowheart truly. Beneath the hunger, she felt the depths of the care and adoration Shadowheart had for Tav. She felt the jealousy and anger at Tav trusting others over her. And beneath that, she could feel the hurt. The betrayal. Tav didn’t trust her, and that devastated Shadowheart.
Tav didn’t use Shadowheart’s desire to make a move to escape. Whatever happened, she trusted Shadowheart. Tav wouldn’t hide anymore. She would take her consequence for breaking the rules. She knew she would take the punishment over and over.
Shadowheart released one of the upper buttons on Tav’s shirt, and the softness fell from her face. She held Tav’s pendant, a growing look of disgust on her face. Tav usually took great care to remove it, but she had needed it tonight. She needed Selune. Shadowheart’s stone cold demeanor returned as she tore the leather string from Tav’s neck.
Shadowheart held the dangling pendant over Tav, fury in her eyes but her face still even. Shadowheart closed her fist and the arcane energy flashed.
Tav stood in the rain as she heard the clashes of swords and the grunts of the dying. She swung her quarterstaff into the temple of a silver-masked Sharran running at her. Tav looked around desperately but she didn’t find who she was searching for. She ran through the streets she’d built, passing bloodied body after bloodied body. The baker she bought a fresh roll from this morning was strung up from the roof of her store by a noose. Tav watched the light leave the eyes of a muddied, bloodied farmer as a Sharran kicked him in the chest. She had helped him sow the spring crops just last week. The high priest lay on the steps of the small church, his eyes carved out, leaving trails of blood down his face like tears. They had sung together just a few days ago, asking for Selune’s blessing.
She pushed her legs faster and faster, Tav had this dream before. She knew what she was running towards. She could save her if she ran fast enough. Sharrans lunged at her, but Tav made quick work of them. Her fear motivated the accuracy of her strikes, and the hope that she might live packed an extra punch.
She saw Evelyn kneeling in the dirt, shaking hands held up in surrender. Her darling, Evie. Tav’s first love. Her nightgown was torn and stained with mud and streaked by blood. A masked Sharran stood before her, turning their head to stare at Tav. On their forehead lay a small black pendant. Its dark circle began to swirl and enlarge. Tav screamed, aware of how this would end and helpless to stop it. She waited for the spear to pierce her lover’s chest as it had dozens of times before.
Tav felt a sharp pressure right where her collarbones met in the center of her chest. Shadowheart was holding the dagger against Tav’s skin, the obsidian tip just nicking the flesh. A drop of blood formed as Shadowheart leaned in, adding more, measured pressure. Tav’s body trembled as she crashed out of the memory. Her vision cleared and Shadowheart’s face formed before her. Shadowheart was staring at Tav’s neck, where the blood on the end of the dagger had started to run. Shadowheart looked up at Tav. Tav’s vision began to wobble, and two copies of Shadowheart’s face moved before her. The silver mask shifted until Shadowheart’s whole face was blurred. Her eyes were just dark, black pits. Tav felt incorporeal, the lines of reality blurring too much for her to feel anything beyond fear.
Shadowheart whispered in Tav’s ear. “Are you afraid of death, Tav? Afraid of loss? Of nothingness?” She dragged the dagger down Tav’s sternum, slicing through her shirt and opening a fresh cut as long as her palm. Tav winced in pain. Shadowheart let the dagger up and considered Tav for a moment.
Tav opened her mouth to beg her.
Shadowheart plunged the dagger into Tav’s stomach. Tav felt the stab a thousand times. She was everyone – a father protecting his daughter, her own father, countless Selunites attacked in their own homes, her lover. She screamed over and over. Tav couldn’t see anything but Shadowheart’s twisted face watching her. Watching the blood pour out of her body.
Tav was wrenched back into her own head again. The point of the dagger only lay against the skin of her abdomen, unbroken. She could almost laugh out of relief.
Shadowheart disappeared, the feeling of her pressing down onto Tav instantly gone. Tav was completely alone, as she’d been a few months ago. Shadowheart was gone. Shadowheart was gone. Shadowheart was gone.
She curled up on her side. The depth of her loneliness threatened to overtake her. She didn’t know how deep it had rooted in her bones. She hadn’t realized how numb she’d made herself until Shadowheart had peeled it all away and exposed her heart.
Tears spilled over onto Tav’s cheeks as she began to weep. She laid in the dark for what felt like hours, days, weeks. Alone. Nothing. Tav pressed her own skin as though Shadowheart were near. She hallucinated her perfume, her hitching breath, her smile.
When Tav stood up, she was weak. There was nothing to keep her going. She only walked towards death, sorrow, suffering.
Tav stopped on the trail and looked up. There was no moon, there were no stars. There was only crushing grief and sorrow beneath years of numbness. She fell to her knees and closed her eyes. She would do anything to make it go away.
“Tav–” Tav snapped open her eyes, tears still streaming down her cheeks. After all this time? Her name sounded like a melody in that voice. She whipped her head around for the sound.
Shadowheart stepped out from a nearby shadow, and Tav stood quickly. Shadowheart dropped the spell from her hands. Tav hesitated for a moment, the black hole of the mask staring her down. But Tav swallowed her fear. She ran towards Shadowheart. Tav barely registered that Shadowheart reached for the dagger tied around the belt of her robe.
Tav knelt before her. She hugged Shadowheart’s legs and wept. Tav felt Shadowheart tense under her grip, but she hid her face in the flesh of Shadowheart’s thigh, searing the sensations into her memory before she could be pulled from this wretched dream.
Tav felt Shadowheart’s hands running through her hair. She gripped Shadowheart’s legs tighter. For a few moments, it was just her and Shadowheart. There were no goddesses, it was just them and their fucked up sort of love.
Shadowheart balled Tav’s hair in her fist and craned her neck up, her voice stern. “Never hide from me again, Tav.” She bends over closer. “Never lie to me again.”
Tav nodded furiously, desperate to do anything to make Shadowheart stay. Tears raced down her cheeks. Shadowheart let go of her hair. She reached up and removed the mask, and Tav could finally see her face.
Shadowheart knelt down to come face to face with Tav. “Say it.” She caressed Tav’s face in her hands, wiping away tears as they fell. “Say you are mine.”
Tav was hoarse from screaming and crying. “I am yours,” she croaked, desperation in her voice. Shadowheart looked upon her with pity. “I am yours, I am yours, I am yours.”
Shadowheart kissed her forehead and down her cheeks, following the streaks of her tears. She leaned back for a moment, and tilted her head up. “My Lady, my final offerings are the moans of a Selunite, broken and laid bare in your darkness, begging for your blissful release.”
Shadowheart pushed Tav to the ground and knelt down before her. Tav kept her gaze on Shadowheart’s eyes, terrified of the consequences should she break the trance they had built together. Tav could just see how the black robe laid on her breasts, how her hair fell and pooled onto Tav’s stomach, her exposed desire shining on her thighs. Shadowheart was a vision, even the absence of the moon couldn’t keep her from glowing. Tav arched her back and moaned, and she watched Shadowheart’s cool, even mask shatter.
Shadowheart crawled on top of Tav. She kissed Tav furiously, biting at her lip like she wanted to take every breath away from Tav. Tav wrapped her legs around Shadowheart’s thighs, her arms around her torso. Anything to keep Shadowheart exactly where she was. Never feel her loss again.
She would forsake all her memories, her goddess, everything to stay in Shadowheart’s arm.
As if she heard Tav’s promise and intended to test it, Shadowheart pulled away from their kiss, her face just barely above Tav’s. Her lips were swollen and her eyes shone. Tav whimpered and craned her neck, desperate to keep her lips on Shadowheart. Shadowheart steeled her glare a moment. Reminding, warning. Tav relented.
Shadowheart slowly closed the few inches between them, until her lips ghosted Tav’s. Her breath was hot on Tav’s lip, but Tav couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t taste her.
“I will take all your pain. I will take all your fear.” Shadowheart’s whispers caressed Tav’s lips. “I will take everything.” Tav felt Shadowheart’s hand on her stomach. Her fingers slid down, untying the string of her trousers. “I will make you feel so good.”
Shadowheart slipped her hand below Tav’s waistband. Her two fingers just grazed Tav’s skin, swirling patterns along her until she reached Tav’s opening. Tav gasped as Shadowheart dipped just the tip of a finger inside of her, the lightest pressure.
“You are so wet for me, baby.” Shadowheart’s mask cracked, her eyes poured adoration. Her lips curled into a half-smile. Tav grabbed Shadowheart’s shoulders, clinging her lover. Clinging to this moment.
Shadowheart smiled broadened, but her eyes shifted. A dark current ran under her stare, her smile teased a threat. She could see Tav’s vulnerability, her devotion in the way her nails clawed against her skin. She saw an opportunity.
Shadowheart slowly dipped her head so that her lips hovered at Tav’s ear. “Give yourself to me, Tav. I want Selune to see you come undone for me. I want Selune to hear my name on your breath.”
Selune. A small pit within her stomach grounded Tav for a moment. Her head felt hazy, her thoughts were slowed. She was about to disgrace Selune. Selune was one of the few things she had left of her parents. Selune was the goddess she devoted herself to at sixteen. Selune was the goddess that kept all the souls that she had failed to protect. Three decades of souls, rescued by Selune after they were slaughtered and sacrificed in the name of Shar. The very goddess she was on her back for, opening her legs for.
Tav felt Shadowheart push her finger deeper, and the thoughts vanished – all focus was on Shadowheart’s finger drawing circles within her. Tav couldn’t keep the moans from tumbling out of her mouth, the song of pleasure pulled from her lips. Shadowheart rewarded her – pressing harder and deeper, biting and bruising and grabbing. Claiming.
She pulled out of Tav suddenly, and Tav cried out in protest. Shadowheart gave her a stern look as she sat up, her knees straddling Tav’s hips. Tav desperately wanted to roll, thrust, writhe, anything to feel Shadowheart. But she didn’t dare under Shadowheart’s gaze. Instead, Tav trembled at the sudden chill, the loss.
Tav began to whine, but was cut off as she looked up into Shadowheart’s eyes. Shadowheart looked down at her, and Tav could only look upon her with reverence. Her view was only Shadowheart’s body in a sea of darkness. Her long hair lapped at her outline like waves and splashed onto Tav. Shadowheart protected her when Selune had not. Shadowheart answered when Tav screamed her name.
Shadowheart pulled her hand completely away from Tav, rested her fingers on her lips, and closed her eyes for a moment. “Just a taste.” She whispered as her eyes fluttered. Tav watched her, enraptured – there was only Shadowheart.
Shadowheart looked down pointedly at Tav before sliding the same hand down her body. Tav watched as Shadowheart slowly dragged her fingers through her own folds, and she bit her lip. Shadowheart whispered an incantation and Tav watched as Shadowheart slid her fingers up and down her cock. Tav watched, unblinking, as Shadowheart shuddered, dancing her fingers along her own dick. Covering herself in Tav’s wetness. But Shadowheart hungered for more.
Shadowheart adjusted herself between Tav’s legs and spread them wide. This dick was larger and thicker than any Shadowheart had challenged her with before. But the size was supposed to be punishing.
Tav felt the head of Shadowheart’s dick at her entrance, and she shivered. She tried to move her hips in anticipation, but Shadowheart kept her in place. “Be a good girl, baby. Take it for me.” Shadowheart pushed in slowly, but steadily. Tav moaned through the pain as she strained against Shadowheart. The edges of her vision began to blur.
Shadowheart bit her lip as she stretched Tav. Tav resisted the urge to move her hips. She wanted to be filled by Shadowheart. She wanted Shadowheart to claim every inch of her. She wanted Shadowheart to open Tav’s chest and release the fear and pain and desperation and want.
Shadoweart reached down her hand to cup Tav’s cheek. Shadowheart was breathless, her face red. “Give it all to me, Tav. Give all your burdens to Lady Shar.”
And Tav let her take them.
Tav said Shadowheart’s name every way she could. A whisper, a scream, a moan, a growl. She gave Shadowheart whatever she wanted, and Shadowheart didn’t hold back. Shadowheart took a relentless pace, panting and thrusting and fucking. Tav let her squeeze and push and bite and hit. Bruises blossomed on Tav’s skin, and still she clung to Shadowheart. Her name continued to echo in Tav’s mouth. Tav didn’t feel fear anymore. She didn’t feel pain. She felt only Shadowheart inside her and Shadowheart’s hot breath on her neck. She felt her own heat rising, energy exploding in her chest. The tension was building, there was nothing but how Shadowheart filled the emptiness.
“Yes, Tav,” Shadowheart leaned over. Shadowheart tried to keep an even face, but her breathing was heavy and her voice thick with desire. Shadowheart ghosted Tav’s bottom lip with her own, whispering into Tav’s mouth. “Give in to darkness, sweetheart.”
Tav’s vision tunneled until she saw only Shadowheart’s eyes watching Tav come undone. A rush of pleasure swept over her, washing away the rot that twisted in her chest. Tav cried out Shadowheart’s name and Shadowheart kissed her fiercely. She reached her tongue deep into Tav’s throat as she swallowed Tav’s cries.
Tav’s vision darkened completely. The black was peaceful, no memories or overwhelming emotions threatened her. She fell into the blissful nothing. She felt like she was floating, no burdens to weigh her down.
Tav heard Shadowheart whisper against her ear. “You are mine.”
Charlotte and Aria walked quickly through the hallways. They were late to their afternoon history lesson. They had been sparring during lunch and lost track of time, leaving them both rushed to return to class disheveled and sweaty. Aria had insisted they practice; Charlotte would need it if they were to survive this place. And it kept them locked away from prying eyes.
Aria had tried her best to keep herself and Charlotte out of the gaze of the Mother Superior. She attended her classes with minimal backtalk, performed her chores quickly, even stopped leaving her room at night. Instead, Aria would lay in bed thinking of their previous encounters, worrying about what the Mother Superior might do to her next. Worrying about what she would do if she saw the Mother Superior again. Imagining her shining green eyes eyeing Aria wistfully from between her legs, her hands traveling Aria’s body as if she had it memorized, her lips gently brushing…
Charlotte’s steps grew larger, each footfall quicker than the one before. Physical signs of her stress over the consequences of being late. Aria kept up but hung back and chuckled under her breath. Everbleed was a pushover; she would never actually punish them. It would be okay to be late this one time.
They turned the final corner and Charlotte entered the room. Aria ran into Charlotte’s back as Charlotte froze on the threshold. Aria straightened herself and looked up, chuckling to herself at Charlotte’s frazzled behavior as she considered which lie she would give Everbleed. She was met by the menacing gaze of the Mother Superior.
“How considerate of you to join us.” The Mother Superior’s words were a cold staccato. Charlotte whimpered. Aria kicked herself for not making sure they got to lessons on time.
Aria must protect Charlotte. All the times she wasn’t strong enough, or smart enough, or cunning enough to save…who? A flash of a spear. It didn’t matter. She had to protect Charlotte. She would not fail now. Protect her…Protect her.
She should have never taken the risk. Now both she and Charlotte were under the eye of the Mother Superior again.
Aria shrunk, and her smile wilted under the Mother Superior’s furious gaze. Seeing Shadowheart again made Aria’s skin tingle and buzz. Fear, arousal, grief, anger all swirled in her chest.
The Mother Superior gestured impatiently to her side, imploring them to take a seat next to the other initiates. Gabriel sneered at Aria as she passed him. She couldn’t suppress the eye roll as she sat down, but when she looked up at the front, the Mother Superior’s eyes were focused on her. Aria straightened up quickly and gave her the full attention that she commanded.
“The world wasn’t always like this – all this suffering, this grief, this pain.” The Mother Superior’s voice shifted, now reassuring and soothing. “It was just Her perfect, endless darkness. There was nothing to lose. No power to fight over. Only bliss.”
The Mother Superior’s tone switched yet again. She lowered her voice, and an angry edge dripped into her words. “We lost that perfect existence. We were robbed of it when Lady Shar’s treacherous bitch sister set the sky alight.” She straightened her spine and looked at each of the initiates in the room, lingering on Aria for an extra moment. “And our Lady Shar calls upon us to ensure retribution for this betrayal! She demands loyalty from all in our congregation, even the novices in our lowest ranks.”
A wicked smile crossed the Mother Superior’s lips as the door opened. Two dark justiticars held each arm of a man whose wrists were bound behind his back. The man had a bag tied over his head and wasn’t wearing much except a dirty, torn pair of shorts. His knees dragged on the floor as the justiciars pulled him through the door. He didn’t appear to be fighting much as they stopped with him just behind the Mother Superior.
Aria looked at the Mother Superior who was already staring at her. “You will prove yourself worthy of Lady Shar’s graces today. You will obey her direct command.” Mother ripped the cover up over the man and lifted up his head by his hair. Aria could see that he was an elf, still rather young. His eyes were closed as he whispered repeated prayers.
“Hear how he calls out to the Moonwitch!” Mother pulled a dagger from her robes and held the hilt out toward the initiates. “Do not kill him right away. We want to teach him what happens when he dares to violate the inner sanctum of Lady Shar with his poisonous dribble.” Her eyes rested on each initiate. “Silence him, and you will take another step into the embrace of Lady Shar.”
Charlotte stood nearly immediately, her chair scraping the floor before Aria could even process what was being asked of them. Aria watched open mouthed as Charlotte took the dagger from the Mother Superior. The Mother Superior was visibly surprised but interested. Charlotte stepped up to the man, grabbed his shoulder, and without hesitation drove the dagger into his abdomen. Aria gasped, but her sound was covered by the man crying out in pain. Charlotte twisted the dagger, extending his scream. Aria wanted to put her hands over her ears, wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She felt an obligation to watch his sacrifice. Charlotte pulled out the dripping dagger and handed it to the Mother Superior, who looked pleased. The man began his whispered prayer again, the words slurring together between ragged breaths.
Charlotte sat down next to Aria but didn't spare her a glance. She kept her eyes on the Selunite, her gaze radiating malice. Aria was confused; she had never seen Charlotte exude such anger or disregard for another life. Aria glanced over at the others. Samael and Gabriel seemed eager to show themselves for the Mother Superior. Narkissa just seemed bored. It felt like a cold splash of water – Aria was alone in her feelings. Not even Charlotte was with her in this. Aria returned her attention to the Mother Superior, who was again staring right at her. Fear flared in Aria’s chest and her skin began to prickle. She needed to compose herself; the Mother Superior was watching.
Samael stood up and walked up to the Mother Superior, bowing his head before her. Aria saw a large grin pass his face as he took the dagger, a playful teasing in his approach to the detainee. Samael enjoyed this. He walked around the man, lightly grazing his skin with the dagger. He paused momentarily before dragging the tip again. Aria’s breath hitched in her throat every time Samael flinched, her body reacting preemptively to the inevitable scream that would be pulled from this man’s lips. The man did not falter in response to Samael’s tricks; the prayers continued to pour from his mouth.
Samael finally lodged the dagger deep into the man’s shoulder. Leveraging the hilt, he began to slowly dislocate the joint. The man howled in pain, lower and more prolonged than the previous scream. The Mother Superior shut her eyes and inhaled deeply, basking in his cries.
Aria sat as still as possible watching Samael return the dagger to the Mother Superior. Her entire psyche screamed at her to rip the dagger from the Mother Superior’s hand and throw it from the room to save this man. She did not recognize him, but she knew they were the same. She was supposed to protect him. Protect him like she protects Charlotte. But her body knew the pain that came with disobeying the Mother Superior, and so she sat rigidly.
Terror grew in Aria as Gabriel and Narkissa both took their turns efficiently. The Mother Superior turned her attention toward Aria. Aria stood up and began a long walk to the outstretched dagger, dripping with crimson. Her legs felt filled with cement. The man’s words were growing louder, enough that Tav could hear his prayer clearly.
“Let all on whom your light falls be welcome.” She took another step, and he got louder. “As the silver moon waxes and wanes, so too does all life.” Tav stepped up to the Mother Superior and took the dagger. She turned to the man, who opened his eyes, his watery blue irises full of fear. He screamed the prayer now.
“We trust in your radiance, and we know that all love alive under your light shall know your blessing.” Aria couldn’t move as she watched the tears fall down the man’s face.
“Turn to the moon, and it will be your true guide!” Aria had frozen, the dagger clutched in her hand. All at once, a rush of half memories flowed through her. She heard that prayer in a child’s voice. A woman. A congregation. She felt a small circle of warmth right at her sternum.
“Aria.” Aria snapped out of her trance, The Mother Superior stood behind the man. Her command was clear. Aria felt compelled to carry out the wicked task, despite her brain and muscles recoiling at the thought.
She looked down at the man, taking aim at a mark on his chest. If she could hit the lung, he would stop praying. She hesitated again. A warm sensation blossomed on her sternum, as if something pressed against her skin. The warmth quickly turned searing. She began to shake.
“Punish him.” Shadowheart’s voice was clear. Aria stabbed the man, hitting her mark. His prayer abruptly stopped as she lodged the knife into his torso. There was a brief moment of silence before he began to scream. The sound was distant, muffled, as if Aria was underwater. She stared at his open mouth, his pleading eyes. She pulled the dagger out of his chest, and a sense of coldness washed over her.
Something stirred in Aria when he wheezed, “Selune, forgive me!” She looked up at Shadowheart and everything within Aria went silent.
“Do it again.” The Mother Superior watched Aria intently. Aria didn’t hesitate this time, stabbing him in the chest again. His second scream was much weaker, and Aria could see blood beginning to pool on the floor.
Shadowheart beamed at Aria for a brief moment, before returning to her cold demeanor. The Mother Superior reached behind her back and pulled out an ornate dagger.
Aria was instantly mesmerized by the dagger and its obsidian tip. She watched as Shadowheart ripped the sharp edge across the man’s throat. She stared while blood poured down his neck, his chest. Aria felt nothing.
Deep within her, a voice quietly whispered. “Selune, forgive me.” It was her own. Everything went black.
Aria brought dinner back to the room she shared with Charlotte. She set her plate down on her desk and sat on her bed. It had been a while since Aria had been in her own bed.
She looked across the room to Charlotte’s bed, the sheets a mess. Aria could only lay claim to a few memories, and even fewer that were recognizable. Almost all of them were with Charlotte. Aria could still feel the lightness of the giggles they shared in this room. They’d shared so much together – nightmares, jokes, gossip, laughter, secrets, pain…
Aria winced, remembering the wheezes and moans that escaped Charlotte as Aria had cleaned the wounds Narkissa inflicted at the behest of the Mother Superior. And now Charlotte had so readily inflicted that same pain on another. Aria couldn’t believe how cavalier Charlotte had been about stabbing that man. How had she missed that change in Charlotte?
And the other initiates – Samael had taken sick pleasure in it. Aria knew the cruelty preached by Lady Shar for people that deserve it; she had wielded it the last few weeks against Gabriel. But this man’s only sin was following Selune. Was that enough to earn Lady Shar’s ire? Aria knew it was, but then why did it feel so wrong?
Aria shook her head. She wanted to rip at her hair in frustration. These feelings were so intense and real, but they were distant. As if they weren’t actually her feelings at all. She didn’t know this man. Shadowheart had no claim over her. She didn’t worship Selune. She tried to breathe deeply and fight the feelings warring in her chest. Her ears rang with the man’s screams. His constant babble of whispers assaulted her mind. The Mother Superior’s eye follows her every movement.
The door opened and Aria jumped. She looked around the room for somewhere to hide but it was too late. Charlotte walked through the door. Charlotte squinted her eyes in the darkness before reaching up and turning the flame up on the wall sconce
“Aria? Did you get dinner?” Charlotte looked over the room and jumped when she saw Aria curled over herself on her bed. She let out a breathy laugh. “Oh! You scared me.”
Charlotte crossed the room to sit next to Aria on the bed. Aria didn’t turn to face her, she couldn’t bring herself to look at Charlotte. She felt a soft touch brush her cheek, as Charlotte tucked Aria’s hair behind her ear.
“Are you okay?” Charlotte whispered nervously.
Aria stared straight at the ground, hands clamped together in her lap. “How did you just…do that?” Aria said so low under her breath she barely heard it herself. “How did you just stab that man so callously?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Lady Shar willed it. And so it is done.”
Aria turned to look at her, incredulous at the nonchalance. “That is it? That’s all the justification it takes to kill a man now?”
Charlotte eyed Aria with a condescension she had not seen before. “Yes. That is all it takes.” Charlotte leaned closer. “I saw your hesitation. Everyone did, Aria.”
Aria turned back toward the stone floor, her hands clenched into fists. Charlotte’s tone got sharper. “You judge me, yet you stabbed the man. Twice. At least I did it for our Lady.” Charlotte scoffed. “You did it for what exactly, Aria?”
Aria shut her eyes. She did it because she spoke her name. Her name in her mouth. She stood up abruptly. Her entire body was tense, she was breathing heavily. Charlotte’s pretty face turned into a sneer. “For Mother to tell you that you are a good girl?” Charlotte was unrecognizable.
Aria stiffened, stunned, and slowly turned to look at Charlotte. Charlotte only challenged her gaze before she stood. “You should trust in our Lady’s judgment, Aria. You are proving over and over that yours is lacking.” She walked over to her side of the room and began brushing her hair.
Aria felt the moment suspended in time, like she was floating above her body. Witnessing an alien controlling her. Did it even matter? Aria didn’t know who she was without Charlotte. But her body knew what it wanted, what it craved. Her rings burned hot against her skin. The fresh scar on her abdomen ached.
Aria walked out of the door, walking willingly into the Mother Superior’s domain. She barely had time to think about what just happened between her and Charlotte, when she turned the corner to a hooded figure leaning against the wall. The figure was in a long, elegant robe that covered her head, obscuring her eyes. Her lips were in a tight line and her long, dark braid laid to one side of her face. Shadowheart’s cloak had several clasps undone, and her posture left Aria stunned. She wore a sleek, black dress. She leaned against the wall with her shoulder. She held the dagger in one hand and pushed the obsidian tip against the pad of her opposite index finger. She slowly twirled the knife, a single bead of blood dripping down her pale skin.
Her lips moved, but Shadowheart’s voice seemed detached from them. “Today was a test, Aria.” She stopped twirling the knife. “A test you came very, very close to failing.”
Silence hung in the air. Aria stared at the knife. It was the same one the Mother Superior used this morning. Something more tugged at her memory, kept her searching in the glint of the steel.
“Had I not stepped in, reminded you of your duty, you would be in the cells.” Aria snapped her eyes up into the black expanse. The shadow across her face seemed to be getting darker and darker. “A quick death is a mercy to those who defy Lady Shar’s will.” Shadowheart’s voice was low, each word punctuated. Fury and anger bled through each breath. “Your only saving grace is you finally learned to be obedient, and I’d rather not throw away my hard work.”
Aria wished she could see Shadowheart’s eyes.
Shadowheart pushed herself off the wall. Black waves poured out of the edges of the fabric. Tendrils whipped out toward Aria, and she tried not to flinch. Shadowheart stepped forward.
“I wasn’t the only one who saw your hesitation. Several justiciars called for your head mere hours ago during the tribunal. Said you demonstrated a pattern of nonchalance toward worship and prayer of Lady Shar.” Shadowheart stood close enough that the tendrils grasped onto Aria, sticking to her. Aria swallowed slowly, but she kept her eyes on the swirling void. She knew better than to look away.
Something shifted in Shadowheart’s posture. “I silenced them. I did not, would not have let them kill you.” An emotion slipped into the words. Her previously cold, angry tone wavered. Shadowheart reached out with a hand and placed it on Aria’s shoulder. “The only reason you are alive right now is because of me.” Shadowheart’s voice grew more ethereal, distant. She dragged a single finger across Aria’s collarbone towards her sternum. “I own you.”
Shadowheart paused as her finger reached the notch at the base of Aria’s neck. She pressed her finger so that it pressed against Aria’s trachea. Her voice was back to the sharp fury of the previous moment. “Keep that in mind next time you decide to act foolish.” She dug her nail into the flesh. The threat of a dagger.
Shadowheart turned suddenly, her cape swirling behind her. She paused for a moment, her back to Aria. She turned her head, and Aria could only see the red of her lips. “You will report to my quarters tomorrow evening where you will beg Lady Shar’s forgiveness for your mistakes. The pets I keep are trained, and you will be no exception.”
“Shadowheart” Aria managed to say. Shadowheart stopped mid-step, her robe coming to a sway around her feet. Her shoulders tensed before she turned around, facing Aria. Aria swallowed, disgusted by her lack of spine but unable to do anything about it, let the words tumble out of her in a rushed whisper. “Why? Why have you picked me?”
Shadowheart didn’t move for a few moments and a harsh silence fell between them. Shadowheart slowly lifted her hands and grabbed the sides of the hood. She pushed back the hood and Aria watched on in awe as Shadowheart revealed her face. It was like the moon pushing back its shadow. Her green eyes looked up into Aria’s with a sincerity that knocked the wind out of Aria’s lungs. Aria briefly wondered if Shadowheart knew all that her body betrayed to Aria.
“Your eyes.” The words seemed to slip out of Shadowheart’s mouth before she could stop them, and with a swirl of darkness she was gone.
Notes:
don't give up hope on shart yet, selunites.
thank you thank you thank you for reading, commenting, engaging, looking at my tumblr, all of it.
a glimpse into my writing process:
1) furiously write 10,000 words foaming at the mouth over a few days
2) scream, cry, throw up over two scenes for hours, weeks, (months)
3) simply cannot read anymore, sends to beta reader
4) lovely beta reader edits 11,000k in under 12 hours.
5) publish, but then flip out and make tiny edits
6) repeat
Chapter 8: she knows what you bury
Notes:
hey im back
if you want, im on tumblr at strugglingcomet2. if you are worried about updates, you can always bug me there.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Darkness blanketed Tav’s vision. She didn’t want to open her eyes. To open her eyes would be to stare at herself in the light. At what she had done. Lathandar never abandoned his children, but he took no issue revealing her hidden sins to Selune.
No. In the darkness, Tav was protected. In the darkness, Shadowheart slept next to her. Her arm rested on Tav’s stomach, and her breath danced on Tav’s chest. Tav could feel Shadowheart’s thigh wrapped around her hip, and her long hair tickled Tav’s legs. Shadowheart protected her.
Shadowheart snorted in her sleep, and Tav’s heart fluttered at the small intimacy. Shadowheart’s breathing returned to the measured softness of sleep, and Tav matched her breaths while she listened to the leaves rustle and songbirds stir. Dawn was still minutes away, she had time. Keeping her eyes closed, Tav scanned down her body. She reveled in all the ways Shadowheart claimed her before the light would poison her memory.
Bruises ached where Shadowheart had grabbed her hips. Burning scratches ran down the outside of her thighs, extending down to her knees. Bite marks peppered her neck and shoulders. Evidence of their blasphemous tryst coated her inner thighs.
Shadowheart took a deep breath and shifted, further burying her head into Tav’s neck and tightening her grip on Tav’s waist. Tav’s heart twisted with joy, adoration singing in the caverns of her chest. She couldn’t help it – she wanted to see Shadowheart’s face. Unadorned, unguarded, at peace.
Tav blinked away the blurriness and found herself looking into green eyes, the flecks of brown embedded in her irises stared Tav down. Shadowheart brought her hands to Tav’s cheek, and brought Tav’s forehead against her own. She closed her eyes and sighed, and Tav did the same. Shadowheart prolonged the moment because she knew just as Tav did. The light would shatter the haven they built, and expose the rot underneath.
Tav felt it when the first rays of light crossed the horizon. As if a small, dark hole opened in the bottom of her ventricle, and released numbness into her bloodstream. A mark. Or, more than a mark. A brand.
The sins of the prior night didn’t affect Tav like she’d thought they would. It was actually rather easy to forget. The unpleasantries never materialized. The worry never found purchase.
She hadn’t known then what she was realizing now.
Shadowheart was not the only one that had laid claim to Tav last night.
Tav took a sharp intake of breath when Shadowheart sunk her teeth into Tav’s lip. Shadowheart’s heart jumped. She knew that the gasp. She knew what it meant.
Shadowheart rolled her tongue over Tav’s lip. She wanted to taste the blood, taste her tongue. She wanted more. Shadowheart sat down, pulling Tav into her lap. Tav straddled one thigh.
Shadowheart moaned when Tav folds kissed her thigh, the wet confirming what Shadowheart knew by just Tav’s breathing.
Shadowheart guided Tav’s hips up and down her own thigh, opening Tav’s folds, spreading her. She wanted to be covered in Tav – marked in secret by her. Tav hummed, and Shadowheart pushed her tongue into Tav’s mouth, pressing it open further, letting herself in.
Shadowheart wanted more. She wanted to taste all of Tav. She wanted to worship at her altar, feast on her divinity. Pull the praises from her throat until they questioned gods.
Tav pulled away, and Shadowheart’s heart pounded seeing her swollen lips, her wide eyes. “In this place, you can.”
Shadowheart’s eyes widened as Tav pushed her shoulder until Shadowheart was down onto her back. The chair back behind her disappeared, a bed appearing. Tav straddled her and rolled her hips against Shadowheart’s pelvis. Gods, Shadowheart hadn’t heard a sweeter sound than Tav’s moan. Tav slowly began to crawl up Shadowheart’s body.
Tav stopped when her knees were on either side of Shadowheart’s head, her wet cunt only inches above Shadowheart. Desperation drove Shadowheart nearly insane. She grabbed Tav’s ass but didn’t pull her close. She panted and held back a whine. She pulled her eyes away from that which she had only tortuously tasted and looked into Tav’s purple irises. Shadowheart’s entire body trembled when she met the softness, the affection, the…Shadowheart stopped herself short. As if Tav saw her hesitation, she ran her fingers through Shadowheart’s bangs, curling her finger around her hair before sweeping it out of the way. Shadowheart didn’t think she had ever been so cared for.
She could say it here.
Shadowheart opened her mouth to speak, but she stopped as Tav lowered herself over Shadowheart’s face. If she could not use her voice, she would dedicate her mouth to sharing her affections, to baring her soul open and wide.
Tav hovered just above Shadowheart, her lips about to grace Shadoweart’s, to finally taste. To finally worship.
“Oi! Breakfast is on!” Karlach’s voice cut through. Shadowheart opened her eyes and inhaled sharply, shocked back into reality. She was on her knees. Her hands were knotted together tightly, all the tension in her body concentrating in her white knuckles. She was in front of her tent. She had been praying to Lady Shar until…
Shadowheart stood up too quickly, stumbling over her feet. She straightened up and took a deep breath. Focus. She shook out her hands, collecting herself. She should have known it was a dream, reality would have had consequences for such acts of devotion.
Tav’s lips ghosted her jaw, soft. So achingly soft. The torture of gentleness, of intimacy.
“What good are you if you cannot focus, Shadowheart?” A sharp intrusion, a cold voice in her mind. Shadowheart felt a sting across her face as if she had been slapped, and deep scarlet shamed her cheeks. She admonished herself, scolding her heart for hammering so heavily in her chest.
Shadowheart needed to be prepared to face anything. Lae'zel was about to walk them into a pit of vipers, and Shadowheart would be bringing to them some particularly juicy rats. A stolen artifact, an idealistic lover, a parasite of the gith’s sworn enemy swimming in her brain. She sighed – damn Tav for her golden heart and her goddess’s foolish hope. The gith would not have a cure. The journey hadn’t all been for nought. The path was littered with signs of Lady Shar’s faithful - defiled shrines, destroyed stonework, secret messages, shadowed destruction. Shadowheart was meant to be here; the air was thick with hidden goals. But first, Shadowheart would have to survive the crèche.
Shadowheart turned around to enter her tent. She needed to prepare components for her spells. She should start burning incense, practicing the more complex prayers – but all that was interrupted when her brain caught onto what her eyes had automatically zoned in on.
Tav emerged from her tent, the dark purple bags under her eyes evident from across the camp. Her braid was loose at best, and bruises littered her collarbones. Shadowheart felt possessive pride, evidence of their moments of bliss in the dark. Proof of Tav’s devotion to her.
And if Shadowheart was being honest, which she almost never was, she was flustered. The daydream left her hot and wet. She wanted to push Tav onto her back, climb on top of her body, and fuck her into the floor. Here, she could not. But she wanted to.
Instead, Shadowheart settled for watching. Observing. Tav wrote her diary on her body, every emotion demanded attention. The twists of her dark purple lips, the flickering of her amethyst irises… Shadowheart knew the intricacies of each.
But today, Tav was a completely blank page. By now, her Tav would have looked up to assess the sky, would have stretched out her back, or at the very least taken a deep inhale. Her Tav would have already attempted a sly look at Shadowheart, and she would have blushed when she was caught. Moments they would give to each other. Gifts.
This Tav did none of those things; she offered nothing. She kept her eyes forward and walked to speak to Lae'zel. No glance, no blush, no coyness. Shadowheart was surprised when she felt…hurt? She had hoped…
The word sent an instinctual shiver down her spine in anticipation of punishment. But pain did not sweep through her. A mercy, gifted to her by Lady Shar. Shadowheart resolved herself. It didn’t matter what Tav did or didn’t do, Shadowheart needed to tend to her Dark Lady.
Shadowheart whispered the closing prayer of Lady Shar’s morning ritual and stood up. She took a deep breath, feeling odd for a moment, and then a warmth flared in her hand. The Dark Lady’s power coursing in her veins, collecting in her atria.
Lightening seared up and down her bones. Fire burned in her palm. Her fingers begged to be used.
It was intoxicating. She felt strong. Powerful.
Shadowheart heard Tav’s scream echo in the chambers of her heart. What she had taken. What she was given. The Dark Lady’s bountiful feast in exchange for her act of devotion.
Shadowheart sat around the fire with her bowl of breakfast, courtesy of Halsin. Shadowheart eyed the sloppy oatmeal with disdain as it dripped off her spoon. She swore she saw beetles crawling amongst the sludge. Typical druids. It didn’t matter; her strength came from her Lady today, not some sludge.
Shadowheart began to –quietly, nearly imperceptibly– chant verses to Lady Shar. Singer of darkness. I am unworthy to stand in your presence, yet you bless me with shadow.
Her palms grew warm. Lady of night. I am unworthy to look upon you, yet your darkness embraces me.
The warmth coalesced in her hand and grew out to her fingers. Mistress of loss… Shadowheart’s fingers hummed with power. I am unworthy to receive your blessing.
She remembered the warmth of last night. Deep within Tav, in the darkest caverns of her heart. Yet you relieve me of my…
Her silver hair wrapped around her hand as Tav’s breath hitched in her ear. Tav’s fingers were embedded in Shadowheart’s back, pulling ever closer. Shadowheart could hear her moans echo in the hollow cavities of her chest. Shadowheart’s name in Tav’s mouth. Tav screamed Shadowheart’s name somewhere distant. Shadowheart wanted to swallow her screams. She crashed her lips against Tav’s pliant mouth. Tav would give anything to her. Tav had given everything to her.
Shadowheart bit Tav’s lip, and blood poured freely from the bite. The rust on her tongue, no inch left unexplored. Unclaimed. Tav was hers.
…you relieve me of my sorrows.
Tav naked and screaming below her. Blood rushing from the wound in her chest. Screaming her name. Bare before her.
She felt bolts of energy jump from her fingertips into the bowl before she could stop them. She almost dropped the paste all over herself, but she managed to catch it just in time.
She glanced upward. Astarion was staring into a hand mirror, too busy fluffing his hair to notice her slip up. She looked back down at the bowl. Scorch marks lay where her fingers had touched. She quickly set the bowl down behind her rocky perch. Tav’s scream echoed in her head again, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
The screaming ceased, but it left its mark. Shadowheart’s once-empty mind now overwhelmed her with thoughts. Guilt hung off her ribs, dripping with shame.
Tav had betrayed her goddess for her. Tav had chosen to step into darkness.
And Shadowheart made her an offering.
Isn’t that what she had always done? Justifications and sacrifices and explanations. Hours of prayer in exchange for indulgent conversation. Pain radiating through her hand so that she could run it through Tav’s hair, along her cheek, between her legs. A betrayal in exchange for an etching of Tav’s body into Shadohweart’s marrow.
She’d pleaded and reasoned with Lady Shar to keep Tav. The loss would only be worse the longer she prolonged her betrayal, the revenge so much sweeter. Or better, how delicious would it be to corrupt a hero of Selune?
Shadowheart paid whatever the price was. Pain for bliss. Wickedness for decadence.
Tav’s soul for her life.
For a taste of joy. Of…
Shadowheart stopped herself. She could not even think it here.
Was the price too high for Tav? Fear replaced the assurance she’d felt earlier this morning. Their night together had been special. But Tav had exited her tent and ignored her. Spurned their small gifts, wasted precious time. Loss could come at any moment, and Shadowheart would be stripped bare again.
Tav was clearly hiding something. How could she, after what they’d given each other last night, the promises she made? Anger spurned within Shadowheart, fire swallowing her heart and devouring her fear.
But as quickly as they had ignited, the licks of anger were washed out by an echo of a scream. Tav had laid herself completely bare at Shadowheart’s feet. No secrets. She’d given her fears and her memories and her sobbing and her screaming.
This morning she gave Shadowheart a blankness. Apathy. Nothing.
What did Shadowheart give Tav? The price of her love was steep.
Fear threatened to choke her. And Tav didn’t want to pay it.
It wrapped around her heart and squeezed tightly. What if last night was goodbye?
She grabbed hold of skin on the back of her hand and twisted until her mind went fuzzy – an old trick from a lesson she didn’t remember. She breathed heavily, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
Shadowheart blinked with sudden clarity. No. Tav was hers yet. The markings on her neck bound them. And Shadowheart would stave off that loss. She would make any sacrifice to be with her, to have one more moment with her.
There was a price to be paid to Lady Shar. Shadowheart’s racing mind produced at least one actionable idea, albeit devious.
She looked up at her companions, evaluating. Wyll sat on the bench closest to her, both hands balled and resting on his knees. He clenched and unclenched them, grimacing as he dug his nails into his palm. His hero act was impressive, almost believable. But no hero sold his soul to a devil. It was increasingly more obvious to Shadowheart that an anger plagued him. An inroad, perhaps? Corruption would satisfy Lady Shar, and she could be granted a deeper shadow, a longer leash.
Gale sat next to Wyll. For once, he was not speaking aloud. Not even to himself. He looked so off color that Shadowheart briefly wondered if the words were going to burst out of him. Gale’s eyes were focused at a distant point, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He tapped his foot rapidly, his corpus seemingly incapable of silence. Another potential target, ripe for the embrace of Lady Shar. Scorned by the false goddess Mystra – surely she must be a fraud if she chose Gale as a bedfellow. But her rejection, however meaningless, had left Gale vulnerable.
Shadowheart turned her gaze to Karlach, watching as she shoveled gruel into her mouth. She appeared seemingly unbothered by the prospect of being surrounded by dozens of githyanki, or by her looming implosion. Shadowheart suspected Karlach hid anger and despair under those muscles.
She would damn them all for Tav.
Shadowheart glared at Astarion, but she caught him unawares. Worry lines etched his usually flawless porcelain face. He had his hand on his chin and he rubbed his bottom lip slowly with his thumb. He carried a slight flush in his cheeks, his lips pink. He must have eaten that morning.
Astarion. Concerned. Interesting.
“You’re looking almost human this morning, Astarion.” Shadowheart offered the first parry, a smug smile pulling at her lips. Astarion looked up, his eyes sharp.
“Careful! Keep glowering at me like that and you’ll grow crow’s feet. Although…” Shadowheart leaned forward, her smile stretching. “Upon closer inspection, you appear to already have them.” She barked out several laughs.
Astarion kept staring. “And you look to be growing up to be quite the Sharran. But if you start playing dark games, your tricks should be better than witty banter.” There was an edge to his voice; it was seething.
He glanced at the bowl. “You best learn how to manage your grip lest someone tries to wrestle it from you.”
Shadowheart’s smile fell and she darkened her stare. Anger pulsed through her veins, but her own shame graced her cheeks. Checking his hair in the mirror...she had been foolish. Astarion had no reflection in the mirror. He had been watching her the whole time.
Frustration mounted in the depths of her lungs. All these feelings – nothing but weakness! Shadowheart was unfocused. Unskilled! Unworthy!
Her thoughts quieted and the shackles on her heart released when Tav emerged from Lae'zel’s tent. The camp was silent as she walked toward them, although Karlach began to cough up oatmeal as she raked her wide eyes over the bruises lining Tav’s neck and shoulders. Tav’s eyes were cast downward, and she moved toward the campfire with purpose.The rhythmic coordination of each of her movements carried an almost grace. But they lacked creativity, spark. Tav’s face betrayed no fear, no anxiety over the coming mission. She didn’t look at Shadowheart, nor at anyone else. She retrieved a bowl, dropped a spoon of slop from the large cauldron into the bowl, and sat down in the dirt next to Shadowheart. At least she’d kept her habit of sitting next to Shadowheart, but Shadowheart couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just the most economical space to sit.
Shadowheart watched Tav lift her dripping spoon. Even gruel would be delectable on her pretty mouth. But something was…odd, something was off. Tav brought her spoon from bowl to mouth several more times, each time with the same cadence. Each repetition provided increasingly damning evidence. Shadowheart had yet to find her Tav anywhere – no scrunching of her brow as when she considered plans or paths forward. No cloudiness in her irises to indicate that her memories had taken her somewhere away. No lines of worry, no sly glances, no poorly hidden smirks.
Worse still, she still hadn’t so much as looked at Shadowheart. She hadn’t moved her thigh closer or found an excuse for them to brush. Their moments squandered. Shadowheart yearned for her warmth. To feel her pulse, follow the tension of her muscles. To pretend that a sliver of her contact was enough to satiate her.
This Tav had not budged.
Shadowheart rubbed the incurable wound on her hand before breathing in her resolve. Tav was fine. Everything was fine. She was probably tired… after all, they hadn’t gotten much sleep. Shadowheart would know if she was hiding something; she had seen it rather plainly each time before.
What if this was something else?
Shadowheart looked up to see Astarion staring at Tav, his gaze lingering on Tav’s neck. Shadowheart let a lazy smile fall on her lips, reveling in Astarion’s unabashed jealousy and letting it cover her uncertainty. She could hear Tav’s moans as Shadowheart marked her, sucked her, bit her.
Astarion’s eyes flicked over to Shadowheart, catching her lost in her moment. “Well, at least you brought her back alive.” He stared down Shadowheart for a moment before shifting his gaze back to Tav. He looked into her eyes and said in a softer voice. “Tav, darling, you look… tired.” This was the first time Shadowheart noticed Astarion looking lost for words.
Shadowheart recovered quickly. She waved him off with a flip of her wrist and snarky laugh. She grabbed Tav’s arm, running her fingers along Tav’s bicep. “Oh please, Tav is fine.”
Tav said nothing for several moments, and Shadowheart raised her eyebrow. Tav continued to stare at nothing in particular until she finally muttered “Yeah, Astarion. I am fine.”
Astarion raised his eyebrow and lowered his tone. “Oh yes, that convinced me.” Tav ignored him, shifting her gaze to the trees rustling over the mountain face.
Exasperated, he turned his attention to Shadowheart. His voice dripped with venom. “I have seen zombies with more life! Her face is empty, her eyes are blank. Does she even have a thought in her head?” He stuck his hand out, gesturing at the bruises along Tav’s neck. “And not even I leave marks like that on my victims.”
Shadowheart barked a laugh. “And you bring them back alive, Astarion?”
Tav felt mild annoyance at their raised voices. She peeled herself from Shadowheart’s grip and walked toward her tent. She’d need to take it down, pack her things. Shadowheart tried to suppress the hurt that bubbled up in her chest and the pangs in her heart threatened to force her to run after Tav.
Astarion gestured his hands at Tav’s back, “Don’t tell me you notice nothing askew?”
Shadowheart rolled her eyes and turned her back to Astarion. Tav was hers and Astarion was jealous. Tav was fine; of course she was. Shadowheart paused and looked over at Tav before walking into her own tent. Tav was fine. Tav was…
The echo of Tav screaming her name interrupted any of her thoughts.
Karlach interjected. “Could we have one meal without you two pissing all over each other?”
A black line scorched the earth in front of Shadowheart, consuming all in its wake. It was as if a trench had swallowed the rock and foliage, and all that was left was a deep abyss. The mark crossed over a stone plaque embedded in the ground, obscuring the words of Lathandar. It had its own pulse, and it reverberated in waves of pain from the incurable wound until Shadowheart’s pulse beat with it.
She had seen a similar doctrine in Moonhaven. Then, she’d been so excited to find it. A gift from her ancestors, a sign from her Lady. It had awoken the fire within her - an ambition, a dream. To become a Dark Justiciar. It gave her the direction for ascension.
But that had been before.
Before, when the only memories she could lay claim to were flashes of admonishments, streaks of pain. These terrors, small glimpses, and prayers were all that Shadowheart had.
Before, she would beg for the abyss of Lady Shar. To be emptied out, wrung of her loneliness and pain. She had wanted to be worthy of such a blissful blessing as nothing. Her Lady answered her prayers. Amidst the skeletons and spears left to rot into nothing, there it was. A smattering of black ink on Lady Shar’s destructive canvas. It called to her, and when she stared into its inky abyss it whispered to her. Glory for the devoted lies in the absence of light. A directive, a promise, an honor. A path to becoming a Dark Justiciar.
She’d felt a rush. It was the first time she had reclaimed a part of herself didn’t lead to her gut writhing or her shame burning. A fire burned in her chest. She had a purpose, an identity. This is what she had always wanted.
But now….Shadowheart wanted something different. Something she hadn’t realized she wanted. She hadn’t even known it was missing.
Shadowheart pulled her focus from her Lady’s gift and turned to look at Tav’s back. Tav was perched on a rock, looking out over the valley while Karlach squealed excitedly over a suspended carriage and Gale prattled arithmetic to explain how the cables could sustain the contraption.
Shadowheart could just see Tav’s cheek, her skin darkened by the whipping wind as when she was shy or embarrassed, or coming on Shadowheart’s fingers.
Tav was silent, but her scream still echoed at the base of Shadowheart’s skull. Pain rushed through the wound on her hand, spreading like a fire up her arm.
Shadowheart turned back to the mark, and pain flared to new heights. Her vision tunneled until it was entirely black, and a whisper took over her mind. Power for the ambitious lies where the righteous were buried.
Shadowheart did not feel empowered or a sense of acceptance. She did not feel gratitude as she should. She only felt dread.
To accept this rite would be to give into loss. She now had things to lose.
Her hand pulsed with the power of the Dark Lady, reminding her of her duty. But she heard Tav’s scream ring out, and all else fell away. Shadowheart quickly looked at Tav, expecting to see a githyanki gutting her, but Tav was still just sitting, eyes to the sky. Breath even, no extraneous movement, nothing indicating anything to she was experiencing or feeling anything.
The screams of last night.
Shadowheart had given Tav to Lady Shar to torture, to extract, to expose.
Shadowheart tortured…
And now…
She had lost her Tav.
The wound on her hand flared, and Shadowheart balled her fists, digging her fingernails into her flesh. She wanted to remember this pain. Remember what it felt like to feel an ounce of that loss, that grief.
Shadowheart heard Tav’s voice greeting Wyll and Lae'zel as they returned from their scout. Shadowheart opened her eyes, breathing wildly and trying to hold back tears. She needed to pull herself together. She would not feel this pain again. She needed to protect Tav. She needed to reach Tav. She would get Tav back.
As they approached the monastery, Tav could see destruction now that distance had hidden before. Prayer markers along the trail, defiled with spheres of pure black. Spears buried in the dirt. Collapsed masonry.
Familiar sights. Tav knew what they meant. It ran off her like water. No intrusive thoughts, no grief hanging in her lungs. She just hiked along the trail, watching the world around her. Shadowheart walked behind her, occasionally making an off-handed comment. She might have called Astarion a donkey? But Tav was apathetic to the group's trivial meanderings. She was easily lost in the landscape as they trekked the last few miles to the monastery.
After scaling a few rock faces and climbing a patchwork of vines, Tav and her party landed on the balcony on an upper floor of the monastery. Tav stepped carefully through a broken stained-glass window and into the hallway. The setting gave her pause, and something tickled the edges of her thoughts. When she tried to grab it, her mind went hazy. Her body moved of its own accord, and she continued down the hallway as if floating.
The stone floor consisted of long stretches of white marble with thin gold outlines. The ceilings were vaulted high above with intricate murals covering the inner domes. The walls had ornate windows depicted with various avatars of Lathandar. The sun shone through the colored glass and shined along the floor. Tav noticed High Priests and Ascended Paladins watching her walk down the hall. The architecture bled extravagance. The paints were indulgent. These builders sought permanence, but destruction was inevitable. Loss was inevitable.
As Tav moved through the halls and into the large foyer, the consequences of their arrogance were on full display. Vines and overgrowth sprouted through holes in the floor. Large sections of the staircase had fallen through and crushed the floors below. Broken glass and stone, defaced murals and years of dust and debris. Collapsed. Broken.
Flashes of light and shadow chased each other along the floor. When Tav inspected further, she saw they were intricate murals painted not with dyes but with sunbeams. The sun hit the temple to Lathandar such that windows and spaces within the stone molded the light into a dance of shadows and refractions. Brother’s teachings about the history of the gods swam in Tav’s mind as she watched the depictions traverse the floor, the beams of light slowly traveling the stone canvas as the sun moved through the sky. The legend of the Blood of Lathandar danced out on the floor – the mage Sammaster’s arrogance, Lathandar’s rage.
Hanging off another wall was a large tapestry. Its depicted scene was one of particular familiarity to Tav. Spires and temples set aflame – The Night of Temple Fires in Waterdeep. Sharran forces had ransacked the city, destroyed anything not in service to Shar. They lit aflame the Spires of Morning and the House of Heroes, but when they marched on the House of the Moon, the Selunites and surviving clergymen of Lathandar fought back to save their home. A story of tragedy-inspired triumph. Light over dark. Good over evil. This mural didn’t contain any of that triumph, only the great tragedy. Blackened threads had been burned into where the House of the Moon had stood, the edges of the hideous addition just barely showing the faint blue moonlight woven into the tapestry.
Tav blinked rapidly, turning herself back around to look at the mural of light. But the intricate shadows melted into incoherent shapes that fought and roiled along the floor. She looked up at the carving in the wall. The stone was crumbled and crushed, and the lenses that reflected the light were piles of glass shards on the floor. Destroyed. Erased.
Tav felt a spike of emotion rush up her esophagus. Her mind reached for something she couldn’t find, the thoughts sliding off her consciousness. As quickly as the emotion came, it was gone. Her face was blank and her stare empty. Sweet nothing.
A blue shimmer of light caught Tav’s eye as it danced amongst the refracting wreckage. She tracked it to the source – a small blue sapphire embedded in the stonework under the window. Impossible for the sun to reach, but illuminated anyway.
She walked forward and knelt down next to the hidden spot. One sapphire and one onyx were barely visible within the stone wall. Selune’s characteristic eye markings were carved around the sapphire, and the phases of the moon sketched a half circle around the markings. Cracks spread from the onyx as if it had been shoved in place of a previous stone. The moon phases had been crossed out by something black, and a dark circle called attention to the new moon, its familiar black ink swirling.
Something in Tav’s heart fought to break free of a chain that bound it. Her breath quickened. Where there should be something, she found nothing. But her body knew. Tav tentatively reached out her hand and rubbed the sapphire, slowly buffing away the dust.
Her skin prickled as it sensed a threat. Her heart pounded; it knew her transgressions. Her muscles twitched and trembled as though they could read the grief etched into her bones.
Before, Shadowheart had looked over Moonhaven as a triumph, the pride welling in her chest. Her brothers and sisters had spread the words of Lady Shar for centuries. Its prideful display of ancient demolishing, terrorizing, and feasting under the gorgeous dark night. The Selunites had had it coming, of course. Foolish oafs incapable of a complex thought, so blinded with the hallucination of hope. Lady Shar’s warriors had unburdened the world of those hapless idiots.
Before, she was blinded by her excitement, dreams of following Lady Shar’s dark path. Shadowheart had felt she could become someone, could have a role in something tangible and powerful and bigger than herself.
She had walked through the threshold of the house, confident and powerful. And Tav had been there, her strong frame frozen in a moment, save for her eyes rapidly moving back and forth. And Shadowheart miscalculated. Stoicism for stability. Calm for content. Detachment for ambivalence.
Shadowheart had been wrong – she hadn’t known Tav. And it cost her Lady Shar’s secret. It had almost cost her Tav.
And so Shadowheart searched and dredged. She poked and scratched. Last night, she saw the plagues of Tav’s heart. The pain, the grief, the fear. Bodies of Selunites in perverse display. She saw Tav strangling and tearing apart Sharrans with fury and relentless effort until her fists were the only thing to have braved the impossible darkness.
At the end of those memories, Tav always stood alone.
Shadowheart saw Tav’s softness woven through each memory. Goodbyes told in caresses and prayers recited for every body she came across. It happened over and over again. Horror plastered on dozens of faces, until the expressions no longer meant anything. And Shadowheart could feel it weighing on Tav’s ribcage until Tav always felt alone, even when surrounded by light.
Shadowheart had wanted to know everything, and now she did. Endless secrets to appease Shar. Exact knowledge to avoid causing Tav pain.
But as she approached Tav kneeling on the stone, bathed in shadows with colored lights chasing each other along her back, they were back in Moonhaven. A foolish girl staring down the one person in her life that brought her joy without price. Shadowheart had only offered Tav conditional attention, paid for with her blood, her tears, her screams.
She walked up behind Tav, looking along Tav’s back. Familiar muscles that she had seen flex and relax. Long silver hair covering the tattered blue robes that Tav insisted on wearing. Shadowheart had hidden braids in her hair when Tav fell asleep last night. Fallen asleep in her arms, her legs wrapped around her thighs. Tav didn’t look up as she approached.
Shadowheart resolved herself. This wouldn’t be like Moonhaven. It wouldn’t be like last night. It wouldn’t be like those moments again. She reached out a shaky hand, a secret promise to Tav.
Lady Shar ensured that Shadowheart knew her displeasure, pain searing through her hand and up her arm.
The pain, the sacrifice. They were worth it. Worth it for Tav.
Was Shadowheart worth it?
Shadowheart’s hand came to rest on Tav’s shoulder. “What is going on in that pretty head of yours?” Shadowheart whispered to Tav, her voice wavering just a little. Tav sighed.
“Nothing.” Tav’s voice was flat, distant. Shadowheart didn’t need to see her eyes to know this wasn’t a deception. There was a hollowness, an emptiness to Tav. A feeling Shadowheart knew well. Tav clenched and released her fist.
Shadowheart knelt down onto both knees, not moving her hand from Tav’s shoulder. She ran the hand along Tav’s clothes, gently pressing into Tav’s shoulder blade and back. She felt the muscles tense and release under her palm.
Shadowheart was at a loss for words, but a memory tugged at her. Her eyes were wet, the smell of night orchids flooded the air. Another pair of hands kneaded her back. Reassuring her. Whispering their own secrets. Shadowheart tried to remember, recover herself.
Shadowheart followed the pattern the ghost hands left on her shoulder, she whispered the words that tickled her ear.
“Let yourself feel it.” Shadowheart dragged her thumbs into the curves and angles of Tav’s architecture, relishing in the exploration. “I know it’s frightening, but you must embrace it.”
Shadowheart danced her hands up and over Tav’s shoulders, digging into her collarbone. She wanted to sign her name into the bone. Tav’s breath moved deeper in her chest, too heavy to keep afloat. Shadowheart felt the rise and fall of Tav’s breaths, and she moved closer so that her chest was against Tav’s back. Shadowheart’s own heart seemed to twist, her own breathing labored. She put her lips on Tav’s shoulder.
“Be brave, Tav. Reject the darkness, reject the northing.” Shadowheart whispered into Tav’s emptiness, right into the hollow of her ribs. “Embrace yourself, come back to me.”
Shadowheart moved one hand to Tav’s waist and wrapped her other arm around her, fingers splayed on her chest, and she pulled herself as close as possible to Tav. Shadowheart could feel Tav’s heartbeat echoing in the chambers of her own heart. She could feel the sobs threatening to break through her ribs. She breathed in Tav, with Tav. Their rhythms intermixed.
“Feel your heartbeat, Tav. Be here.” Shadowheart murmured against Tav’s skin. She pressed her palm into Tav’s sternum.
Tav’s eyes were closed, and she spoke only in a whisper. “There is something missing.” Tav shook her head. She spoke louder this time, but her voice was choked. “I can’t reach it.”
Shadowheart could feel Tav’s heart as it pumped disparaging whispers, promised sweet nothings. The hole in the bottom recess of the lowest chamber – a small mark. Gaping and yearning.
Shadowheart could feel the same emptiness in her veins, leaking into her mind, swallowing her heart.
But there was also something else. Something that hadn’t been there before. Or rather, that had been hidden before.
“Sometimes you must let it come to you, Tav.” Shadowheart whispered, but the words bounced in Tav’s ribcage until they were shouts. They breathed together for several beats.
Shadowheart rested her chin on Tav’s shoulder, and tilted her head so her breath tickled beneath Tav’s ear. She kept her hand affixed to Tav’s heart, forcing it to hush. “What do you see?” She whispered into Tav’s ear.
“Flashes of colors. Red, orange, blue reflections dancing.” Tav’s voice was ethereal, but then she snapped her mouth shut. She opened her eyes. Shadowheart could see the scream in them.
Tav quickly released herself from Shadohweart’s grip, deep scarlet filling her cheeks. She turned around quickly and wouldn’t meet Shadowheart’s eyes. “Isn’t this against the rules?” She asked softly.
They both sat on the stone in silence for a moment. Shadowheart took Tav’s hand, begging her to meet her gaze. “Ever since I woke up to you on that beach, it’s felt like I am missing something.”
Tav’s eyes quickly darted to hers and they carried a twinkle. Tav was bursting through. Shadowheart could feel her own words vibrating in her lungs. “I can only get glimpses of my memories, they fall like sand through my grasp.” Shadowheart took a deep breath and Tav squeezed her hand. “I know what it is like. To feel empty.”
Something within Shadowheart was desperate to escape, It pushed against the numbness in her own veins. “But I don’t feel empty with you.” Shadowheart huffed a small laugh, the awkwardness of feeling itching her skin.
Her eyes were wide, and when Shadowheart looked into the deep purple irises and saw the waves of apathy threatening her attention, but Tav was intent on Shadowheart. She raised one of her hands and cupped Shadowheart’s cheek.
Tav’s voice was quiet. “Shadowheart, I...” But she was interrupted by Shadowheart grasping her wrist, hissing through her teeth.
Pain exploded in her palm, searing the lesson into sinew. It took her by surprise, and it was unrelenting in its potency. Tears suddenly threatened her, but she couldn’t care. The pain was overwhelming.
Until a hand slipped into hers and her cheek was guided forward until her forehead rested on Tav’s shoulder. Tav’s free hand ran through Shadowheart’s hair as she was held.
When the episode was over, her breathing still heavy, Shadowheart continued to hang her head against Tav for a moment. She wanted to pull as much from this moment as she could, solidify the comfort and the support and the care in her mind as a refuge.
Tav’s fingers traced the side of Shadowheart’s face until they were under her chin and pulling her face to meet those beautiful amethyst eyes. They stayed in silent a moment, and Tav took a breath to speak.
“Come, quickly! We have found the entrance to the crèche!” Lae'zel’s voice echoed in between the railings of the broken grand staircase from several floors below. Shadowheart suppressed an eye roll, she should have known discrepancy, diligence, and stealth would not be valued in a mission headed by Lae'zel.
Tav offered her a soft smile before standing up and extending her hand. Shadowheart took it, pulled herself to her feet, and squeezed the hand. Tav turned and walked toward the staircase.
Shadowheart stayed back a moment, staring out at the setting sun in between the broken glass.
Lady Shar was descending upon them.
Lady Shar was always watching.
Shadowheart would take the pain, the punishment, the consequences. She would endure it over and over again. She would not let Lady Shar steal Tav again.
Aria leaned against the wall, her heartbeat fluttering in her chest. She was alone in the hallway outside the quartermaster's office. Each of her fellow initiates had been called into the room one at a time. Charlotte was in there now, and Aria would be the last. She was nervous, now that she knew just how thin the ice she treaded on was.
Before she could stop herself, Aria fidgeted, and released a sigh. She immediately regretted it. She felt eyes on her every move and could hear whispers behind her back. Impatience. Visible defiance. Aria stood straight and evened her breathing, keeping her stare into the purple carpet.
After several excruciating minutes, Charlotte walked out the door. Aria looked up at her and Charlotte met her eye briefly. For a moment, she was as Aria had first met her. Eyes wide, breath shaky. But within seconds, the brief vulnerability was banished. She cast her eyes down and passed Aria by. Aria watched after her a moment before she heard Nocturne clear her throat from within the office.
Aria quickly joined her in the room. Mere weeks ago, she had been in here stealing that potion. Nearly getting caught. It is what had gotten her in this mess in the first place, and all for a woman who wouldn’t even look her way anymore.
Nocturne walked behind a large wooden desk, the shelves and shelves of equipment behind her. Aria risked a glance at the hiding spot she had found, a rush of relief flooding her when she noted that Shadowheart couldn’t have seen her from this spot.
“How much do you know about the situation you find yourself in?” Nocturne’s voice shocked Aria, who rapidly turned her head and met her intense gaze. Nocturne had one eyebrow raised and both her hands rested on the desk in front of her.
“Not a lot, if I am being honest.” Aria confessed. “But whatever test I was put to, I failed it.”
“Almost failed.” Nocturne corrected, flashing a pointed look. She sighed and began to pull pouches and daggers from under the desk. “There are many ways to serve Lady Shar, and we have many needs to support a growing cloister. With so many looking for our Lady for solace, the Mother Superior set up an initiate program. We teach them history and scripture, we train them in combat. We note their strengths and gauge their commitment to our Lady, and then we assign them additional training based on their report.” Nocturne turned to a shelf behind her, pulling various books and scrolls and gathering them in a pile. “But all of them need to prove their devotion. A nightfall ritual –an act of wickedness– and you enter Lady Shar’s embrace.”
Nocturne dropped all the books on the desk, a small pile amassing in front of Aria. She paused her organized whirlwind of packing and stepped out from behind the desk with a long strip of measuring fabric. “Stand upright, arms out. I need your measurements.” Aria did as she was told. Nocturne went to work, measuring various circumferences and lengths.
Nocturne continued, briefly looking Aria in the eyes. Judging. Analyzing. “After their sacrifice, the tribunal of Dark Justiciars meets to discuss how those who fit in should be utilized and how those who don’t fit in should be… dealt with.” Nocturne paused and stared at Tav.
“The Mother Superior typically does not tolerate weakness. Or hesitation. Anything less than total devotion to Lady Shar and her church.” Nocturne’s eyes briefly unfocused, and Aria saw her mind travel elsewhere. Nocturne returned to Aria after a moment, narrowing her eyes. “But yet she showed you mercy.”
Aria held her gaze. “Why? Why show me mercy?” Aria didn’t understand – why was she special? Why had she been gifted a second chance?
Nocturne shrugged. “Her reasons have yet to be revealed to me.” She raised an eyebrow, appraising Aria again. “You have done well in your combat training, but we see many fighters. You have decent grades, but we have seen more impressive minds.” Nocturne leaned further forward, her gaze darker and a sneer played on her lips. “By all accounts you are… average. Above average at best.”
Nocturne narrowed her eyes, always evaluating. Calculating. “And yet, you are impressive enough to be chosen by her.” Nocturne learned back, the tension bleeding out of the moment. “You have been assigned to the personal guard of the Mother Superior herself. Impressive is not enough. If you are to survive, you will need to be exceptional. You are going to be tested at every moment.” Nocturne turned and walked into the back armory. She returned with a new quarterstaff. It was made of wood, but dark as though it had been charred black. Darkened steel knobs adorned the ends.
Nocturne looked at her with eyes in a faraway place. One end of her mouth upturned. “Against my better judgement, I am rooting for you. I want you to survive.” She reached where Aria stood, holding out the quarterstaff. “And this will help.”
Aria reached out to hold the staff. It seemed to call out for her. Its wood was cracked and broken as if fire had licked through it. It was such a deep black that Aria half expected soot to fall off of it. But when she wrapped it in her palm, it was sturdy and firm. Power pulsed from it, quickly tuning to the beat of her heart. She was awestruck, and she looked at Nocturne with wide eyes.
“During one of your combat trials, you and your cohort were sent to hunt one another in complete darkness. I saw you hunt and stalk; you had better reactions than the drow. Lady Shar had blessed you to walk in darkness. And then I thought of this weapon.” Nocturne almost looked proud. “It is nearly impossible to see in darkness – your opponents won’t be able to parry or defend against your attacks. It was said to be wielded by an ancient Chosen of our Dark Lady.”
Aria was baffled. She was a mere acolyte, and this was a powerful weapon. Gifts, blessings. Maybe she did belong in the embrace of Lady Shar. “Nocturne, I don’t know how to thank you.”
Nocturne spoke softly, “You can thank me by keeping her safe.”
Aria’s mind raced as she put away all of her items. New clothes, quite a step up from her previous novice clothing. New armor tossed into her wardrobe, as it would be too restricting to her movements. But she kept the bracers. Still all black. Everything was always all black.
Aria had left the new quarterstaff on her bed. She closed the wardrobe and walked to the edge of her bed. She picked it up slowly before swinging it. Nocturne hadn’t been exaggerating about her new quarterstaff; it was lightweight but perfectly balanced. Her swings were only just visible to herself.
It felt connected to her hand, as if her vasculature jumped into the wood when she held it. It beat to her rhythm. She felt a tugging at her heart, insistence in the deepest depths of her ventricles.
She had just stowed the staff in its sheath when Charlotte walked into the room. Charlotte stopped when she saw Aria, her eyes widening. She stood frozen in the doorway, several books in her hands, as well as new dark robes.
“I am not a justiciar, Charlotte.” Aria narrowed her eyes, but looked down. Charlotte didn’t trust her. “I am not demanding timeliness or threatening you with a beating.”
“Of course you aren’t.” Charlotte’s tone was sincere as she crossed the threshold of the doorway. She dumped her books on Aria’s bed and stood beside her. She reached her hand out, putting it on Aria’s bicep before dropping it. An offering of peace. Charlotte took a deep breath and attempted a lighter tone. “I was selected for clerical studies.” She said tentatively, motioning to her pile of scripture and prayer books. “I am to learn the scripture of Lady Shar, study our stories and histories.”
Charlotte’s eyes unfocused, and she looked miles away. “Soon I will be spreading her word, bringing her mercy to the downtrodden and unfortunate.”
Aria grabbed her hand momentarily to bring Charlotte back to the moment, back to her. Charlotte startled, but her eyes focused and she flashed Aria a small smile. “Narcissa, ever average, is assigned to cloister guard. Gabriel’s cruelty and expertise earned him a spot training to be a justiciar. And Samael to spymaster…” She looked at Aria expectantly.
Aria’s face flushed. The staff on her back felt heavy. She stuttered, but she couldn’t keep this from Charlotte. “I… I am to be part of the Mother Superior’s guard.” Aria looked up, trying to meet Charlotte’s gaze, but Charlotte’s eyes were cast downward.
“Ah. Well, you have the aptitude, Aria.” Charlotte’s voice wavered. She looked up at Aria and emotion swirled in her eyes. Envy? Disappointment? Anger?
Tears welled in Charlotte’s eyes. Oh.
Aria brushed a strand of blonde hair out of Charlotte’s face. “This doesn’t change how I feel about you, how much I care about you.”
Charlotte stepped back, her eyes misting over. “That is the problem, Aria. We aren’t supposed to mean anything to each other.”
Aria paused for a moment, the ghost of a familiar feeling washing over her. A deadline for their love, a timeline for its expiration. But in her mind’s eye, she saw Nocturne’s hand over Shadowheart’s all those weeks ago in the quartermaster’s office. Even in the darkest of them, a small glimpse of light. A small hope.
“All I have is Lady Shar. I must do as she commands.” Charlotte whispered, as if anticipating Aria’s plea.
Aria turned and grabbed her hand, holding it. “You have me, too.” Aria squeezed her hand, affirming the promise.
Charlotte’s face contorted before she ripped her hand from Aria’s. “We both know your allegiances lie in the bed of the Mother Superior, Aria.”
The air rushed out of Aria’s lungs as if she was punched. But was Charlotte wrong? Aria could barely control herself around the Mother Superior.
“I won’t stand between you and Lady Shar, Charlotte.“ Aria choked the words out. The weight in Aria’s chest was heavy, it dripped with steel. Charlotte stays silent, the only sound their measured breathing.
Without a word, Charlotte hastily collected her books and rushed out the door, leaving Aria alone.
Aria stood at the door to the Mother Superior’s chambers. Her punishment, her dreams, her past, and her future all stood behind this door. She pushed it open and was met with eerie silence.
She glanced around the room, shadows jumped and shivered across every corner. The only light danced from the fireplace. Shadowheart sat in a plush chair in front of the fireplace, her legs crossed. The flickering light behind her cast her in shadows. Moments of light danced upon her face, then her collarbone, her cheek, across her leg. A pool of dark clouds surrounded Shadowheart’s feet, and black tendrils reached out from below. The flashes of light and consuming darkness were in such contrast that Aria’s eyes couldn’t keep up. The flames blinded, the shadows darted.
Shadowheart sat against the straight backed chair, one elbow propped on the armrest and the other slowly swirling a glass of red wine. Her thick braid hung down her shoulder. She was in black trousers and a white collared shirt, the top buttons undone. Black suspenders ran along her torso. Aria felt warmth rush to her cheeks but didn’t allow herself distraction. A game was to be played, and she’d have to win.
Shadowheart tapped the glass of wine rhythmically, her eyes focused unblinkingly on Aria. Holding her in place.
“Ah, my newest pet. Come to prove herself worthy.” Shadowheart’s lips curled into a smile, but it only served to increase Aria’s anxiety. A disguised threat.
“You beckon, and I oblige, Mother.” Aria said in a low tone. She needed to portray confidence.
Shadowheart barked a laugh. “You will have to learn more tricks than ‘come,’ dear.” She stood up, the dark waves cresting and drowning the stone below her. The waves brushed the tips of Aria’s shoes, warning her of the coming tide. Shadowheart rested a hand on the back of the chair as she walked around it to face the fire.
“Tell me, Aria. Who were you before you walked into my embrace?” Shadowheart turned her head back toward Aria, the shadows obscuring half of her face.
“No one, Mother Superior.” Aria whispered. Her skin tingled, and her heart leapt. “I have no memory of before.”
“A woman without memory? That is rather convenient.” Shadowheart swirled the glass before taking a large drink from it. Aria watched her swallow the wine and Aria swore she could taste the rich red on her lips.
“A gift bestowed to me by our own Lady Shar.” Aria eyed her, careful with her words. “Surely proof of my devotion and her favor, Mother.”
“To be devoted is to prove it over and over and over.” Shadowheart turned again around the chair, her fingers tracing the upholstery. She was face to face with Aria now, and Aria felt fear intrude on her resolve. Something was off; a monster laid in the shadows.
Aria had to stand strong. She could play the game. “Is that why you keep seeking me out, Mother? Over and over and over?”
Shadowheart’s gaze hardened, the mirth hidden in her smile wiped away with a sneer. She recovered quickly, but her anger at the insinuation lingered in her irises. “I won’t deny my curiosity. A woman without a past strides into my cloister. No secrets, no memories.” She began to step away from the chair and closer to Aria. Her steps were purposeful. Power radiated off her. “But you do have secrets, Aria. I have watched you, all that you do. All that you say. Your whisperings to Charlotte. Your hiding spots. Your lacking prayers. But these aren’t your biggest secrets, are they?” Shadowheart was close enough that Aria could see the brown speckles in her eyes, the freckles on her nose.
Everything in her screamed to run. The black waves now crawled up and down Aria’s legs, pulling at her trousers. But she did not waver.
“You moan my name in your sleep. Your eyes widen when my fingers grace your skin. Your breath quickens beneath me.” Shadowheart lost a bit of edge, her voice breathier.
Aria swallowed, her heartbeat faster. “You must like what you see, Mother.”
Shadowheart hummed. “But it is not enough. I want more. I demand everything. Your desires, your ambitions. Your depths, your deceits.”
Shadowheart suddenly grabbed her chin, her fingers digging into Aria’s jaw until she broke skin. “And you want to give it to me.”
There was a pause. Shadowheart looked at Aria and Aria couldn’t look away. Shadowheart took her other hand and ripped open Aria’s shirt.
Blood dripped down Shadowheart’s fingers.
She wore a large smile, crazed even. “I’ve made it clear, I am the only thing keeping you from the grave. I own you.” Her eyes bore into Aria. “And you will be branded as such.”
Shadowheart began whispering. Black tendrils shot up and wrapped around Aria’s wrists, pulling them until her arms were outstretched. Tendrils snaked around her calves and lifted her so she levitated above the stone floor. They continued to crawl up her body, unbuttoning her shirt and exposing her chest.
Shadowheart’s whispers began to echo off the marble as the tendrils tightened around Aria. The black words fell out of Shadowheart’s mouth, the script running down her chin. She held her palm out, fingers outstretched. Her fingertips were tinged red with Aria’s blood. Black pulsed through her veins, surrounding the black sphere on her bloodied hand. It coursed down into her fingers, collecting in her nails. Her blackened fingers began to grow into five sharp blades of darkness. Aria’s blood dripped from the edges.
The air around Aria turned ice cold, and she began to panic. She pulled at her bindings as Shadowheart slowly moved the disfigured hand toward her, the center of her chest. The dark tips dripped with dark tears, the points aimed with precision. Aria looked between the approaching knives and Shadowheart’s eyes. Black lines etched into her cheeks, growing with each pulse of her heart. They spread like cracks in the whites of her eyes, threatening the green iris.
Aria started breathing faster, throwing her arm against the binding until it broke free. She grabbed Shadowheart’s wrist, holding it in place.
Shadowheart’s pointed fingers laid against Aria’s skin, outlining her heart. Aria’s chest heaved with her breathing, brushing up against the tips with each inspiration. She clasped harder onto Shadowheart’s skin, clinging to her.
Aria looked up at Shadowheart. Her head was tilted, intently watching Aria. The world slowed, and it was just the breath shared between them, her green irises searching Aria’s depths.
Aria didn’t see the words of Lady Shar dripping from Shadowheart’s mouth. She didn’t feel the daggers aimed at her heart. The green irises, she knew them. It was Shadowheart.
Wasn’t she all she ever wanted?
Aria made a choice. She pulled Shadowheart’s wrist toward her, and the daggers sunk into her chest, She could feel the foreign movements, slicing the sinew between her ribs. Shadowheart smiled and thrust her hand forward, digging deeper into the flesh. Aria watched as black necrosis began to radiate from Shadowheart’s fingers and pain began to spread through her skin, permeating every follicle. Shadowheart pushed forward and Aria felt her fingers envelop her heart in a perverse embrace. Aria kept her eyes on Shadowheart’s and her hand holding her wrist.
There was a pause. Aria’s heart beat against its captor. Yearning to be reunited. Terrified to be ruined.
And then Shadowheart ripped her very soul from her body. Agonizing pain emanated from the hole in her chest. Shadowheart held her beating heart. It thumped in her hand. Blood rushed in her veins, through the chambers in Shadowheart’s hand.
Aria pulled her eyes away to find solace in Shadowheart’s eyes. But her green irises were replaced with the glow of purple. Aria watched her mouth twist into a smile before she dug her fingers into Aria’s heart.
Fire burned up her veins, her brain seared with pain. The pain was overwhelming, but she kept her eyes open and fixed on Shadowheart.
Aria followed the rule and kept her eyes on Shadowheart’s until her vision tunneled, and everything went black.
Aria felt like she was falling through the air, landing on invisible windows and crashing through them. She landed flat on her back and knocked the air out of her lungs. She tried to take a deep breath in, but her chest burned with the inhale.
When she opened her eyes, it was entirely black. A woman’s low chuckle shook the space, reverberating in Aria’s ribcage. The darkness provided no solace here.
As suddenly as the chuckle started, it was cut off. A small sphere of light rose from the horizon, illuminating tall, thick oak trees. It continued to rise until it hung overheard, like her own personal moon. Aria watched it in awe, the warmth of the light soothing her shaking hands and fluttering heart.
Bubbles of all sizes appeared around the room, floating and reflecting the light of the sphere. Aria approached one and heard echoes of laughter as she touched it. She approached another and heard a shuddering sigh of pleasure. Another, and she felt a maternal caress on her cheek. Orange, red, yellow lights began to dance around the room, reflected off the bubbles.
Shadowheart walked into a dark room, her footsteps echoing on the onyx tile. Bubbles of all different sizes floated around her, as if someone were running clothes along a washboard. The room was filled with the smell of fresh air and open trees. She had not been outside of Baldur’s Gate in months and briefly yearned for a time when life was simpler, when she woke up each morning with leaves in her hair and a parasite wriggling in her brain, small bits of evidence that the evening before had been real.
She couldn’t help but be impressed with herself. The all-seeing spell was powerful, a modification from a horror turned lesson she witnessed in the Rethiwin House of Healing many years ago. She had not tried it, had not found someone worthy… until now.
She continued walking, the room seemingly boundless and the bubbles endless. She approached a bubble hovering before her and saw her own green irises swimming and shimmering in the liquid film. She reached out her hand, stretching her blackened fingers to touch it. But with each movement, the bubble repelled away from her. Floating higher away.
Shadowheart turned to another bubble. Her open mouth briefly passed over the surface like a reflection before dissipating in ripples. She reached out again to touch the bubble, but again, it ran from her.
Shadowheart tried multiple times, the same repulsion occurring each time her fingers nearly brushed the delicate outlines. She huffed in frustration. She thought quickly – what was she doing wrong?
She threw out her hands to her side, her palms facing out. The bubbles ceased their idle levitation. She conjured gusts gathering them together above her head. Her bangs shook in the wind, the air whipped at her. Shadowheart began to circle her hands like planets in orbit, and the bubbles mimicked her motions. They spun in a vortex, throwing their own light – greens, blues, purples, pinks. Shadowheart’s own personal galaxy. Indecipherable whispers, gasps, screams all flew by as other bubbles passed her to join their ilk. She saw glimpses of figures, some dead, laughing, crying, fucking. Shadowheart even briefly tasted brandy.
She continued to spin the bubbles until they all danced above her head. She slowed her hands, and the bubbles responded in kind until they slowly drifted along their designated oval pattern with just a slow twist of her wrist, her two fingers dancing around each other slowly and tortuously.
Shadowheart knew she was within Aria’s soul; she just needed to learn to communicate with it. The entire thing seemed to act as one now. Within the large oval pattern, bubbles swirled and danced with each other.
“Hello, pet.” Shadowheart whispered. She began to slowly reach her other arm up as if to caress it. The school of bubbles jumped back. It was like a wounded animal, frightened. “Sweet girl, I am here.” Shadowheart kept reaching her arm toward it, the fingers on her other hand continuing to swirl but slowing down. The bubbles slowed with her, and began to extend lines of purple, pink, and blue light. It braided itself together as it extended from the aura above her toward Shadowheart’s outstretched hand.
It stopped growing just as it reached Shadowheart. The end began to expand as if air was being blown into it, the material thinning and the colors becoming more and more translucent. It set itself atop Shadowheart’s fingers, and the all the bubbles froze in an instant.
Shadowheart took her hand and caressed the ball. “Such a good girl for me.”
She continued to rub the orb. “Find your earliest memories, I want to see you for who you truly are” When Shadowheart closed her eyes, she saw Aria waking up on her couch, just after the Mirror of Loss. She was so pale and gaunt that day. It took her fifteen weeks to break. To scream for the mercy of Lady Shar. No one who’d ever passed through those doors had been that strong, that dedicated. It took Gabriel four days, Samael six. Charlotte, shockingly, took three weeks.
When the memory Aria looked at Shadowheart for the first time, heat gathered in Shadowheart, remembering Aria’s awe in their initial meeting. Shadowheart huffed with pride. The memory froze and a large, black swirl began to blossom, centered on Aria’s heart. It grew bigger until it took up her whole chest.
It was possible that Aria had told the truth, that Lady Shar had taken her memories and left her with the blessing of nothing. She had certainly bestowed it before, albeit her Lady rarely deemed anyone worthy of the gift. The gift to forget their loss, abandon their despair.
Or she could be lying.
Shadowheart knew where memories broke through, even unintentionally. Shadowheart walked up to the frozen Aria, putting her hand on her cheek. She traced the cheekbone with her thumb, pausing to look into her eyes. They were empty, surprised as if suddenly introduced to this life.
“What do you dream of? Where do you fly away to?” Shadowheart whispered before dropping her hand and touching the swirling chasm in Aria’s chest.
Shadowheart opened her eyes to a similar black marble room, with several beds. One was empty, and Shadowheart assumed that Aria was roaming. But the bed next to it caught her eye, the thin blanket expanding and contracting irregularly. She walked over beside the bed.
Aria laid on her side, that blonde shrew wrapped around her back. Jealous bile started to leak into Shadowheart’s gut, push up into her throat.
She shook her head. She was the Mother Superior of Shar. And she was jealous of a nobody? She could take whatever she wanted from whoever she wanted. And she had certainly taken to Aria.
Charlotte was nothing more than an attachment, a weakness. A lesson to be learned.
Shadowheart continued to watch them a moment. Both so different but drawn together. They kept each other safe, warm. Something tugged at her heart before she shook that emotion away too. They began to breathe in tandem before Aria shifted, laying out on her back. Charlotte adjusted, curling up into Aria’s side.
Shadowheart scoffed. Weak little twig, unable to do anything for herself.
Aria made a small noise of sleep before taking a large breath. Shadowheart’s heart fluttered at the small intimacy. A gift for Shadowheart, and for her alone.
She closed her eyes and for a brief moment she was in Aria’s dream. Aria was on her knees, her eyes slowly moving up a naked torso in front of her until she met green irises.
Shadowheart smiled deviously, relishing her prize. Aria did not belong to Charlotte. Charlotte was but a temporary salve for a burn much greater, much stronger than whatever wet bandage she could muster.
Shadowheart almost related to the sentiment, but her eyes opened, and a scene unfolded that struck fear in her.
She stood in front of herself again, her hands leaning on Nocturne’s desk as Nocturne searched a box of rings. Aria stood behind a shelf of items within the quartermaster’s office. Fury boiled her bones and alighted her blood. The girl had been spying. What did she know? Who had she told?
Anger tried to stomp out her shame – how had this escaped Shadowheart’s notice?
Shadowheart lifted her hand and pointed at Aria who stared up at her, frozen with fear.
“You will tell me everything you know and who you have told.” Aria stood straight up, the black swirl again blossoming on her chest. Two new swirls appeared over her eyes.
A vision flashed before Shadowheart’s eyes – her dagger sinking into that moronic justiciar. Aria had glimpsed Shadowheart’s mission, her most secret goal. Aria had heard her name.
Shadowheart had come to pull everything from this woman, and instead found her own deepest secret.
She continued to push the edges of Aria’s memory, but there was nothing. Aria had not told anyone.
Relief fell over Shadowheart, except for a tightening in her stomach.
Before she could ask more of Aria, the room began spinning. The walls collapsed, the marble floor cracked. The figures of herself, Aria, and Nocturne were thrown from the scene into darkness before turning to dust.
Shadowheart was sitting on a cliff, overlooking a waterfall. She was mid-laugh, her hands wound in silver hair.
Shadowheart gasped, and quickly looked down. She hadn’t seen her in her dreams in months… years, even. She hadn’t been able to conjure more than just a flash of her silver braid or the taste of her skin or a gasp of her pleasure. She had been losing Tav, but now she lay in her lap.
Shadowheart did not question why she was suddenly in her own memories, why or how the spell rebounded. She only cared only to hear the giggle coming from Tav’s mouth, the spill of her hair, the warmth of her body against Shadowheart’s thighs.
The loving smile, the cheeks darkened from the work of brandy and Shadowheart’s lips, the soft if slightly disheveled hair reflecting the moonlight. Shadowheart drank in every feature, saving her eyes for last.
But instead of her beautiful eyes, there were two black swirling pits gazing up at her. Shadowheart recoiled at the sight. She tried to imagine her eyes, but could not even think of the color. Blessed Nightsinger, how much of Tav had she lost?
Tav sat up suddenly and Shadowheart yearned for the warmth of her body again. She turned to Shadowheart. Her eyes were disconcerting, putting Shadowheart on edge as she stared into them. Tav opened her mouth and spoke. Her voice was low and distorted as if speaking from inside a bottle of wine.
“You are missing something, Mother.”
Tav began to scream, the sound something Shadowheart very clearly remembered. Black ichor poured from eyes like tears and fell from her mouth.
Shadowheart reached over, wrapping her arms around Tav and pulling her forehead onto Shadowheart’s shoulder. “I will find you, Tav. I will.” She repeats over and over, the endless screaming drowning out her words. A black swirl opened in Tav’s chest. Shadowheart did not reach out to touch it, and it became larger and larger.
“No. NO!” Shadowheart yelled. She wasn’t ready to leave. Tav needed her. She needed Tav. The cliff face shook with repeated thumps in time with a squeezing in Shadowheart’s hand.
But Tav was here. Through Aria, Shadowheart found her way back to her memories. She clung desperately to Tav. The hole in Tav’s chest only grew bigger, pulling her and begging to consume her. Shadowheart put her hands on Tav’s cheeks, leaned her head against Tav’s forehead. She closed her eyes, clinging to the moment.
Orange, yellow, and red lights danced around her vision, and then it all went black.
Aria was suddenly grounded in her body, tense and flushed with exertion. She was breathing heavily, and each inhale brought a rush of pain through her chest. Sweat dripped down off her brow, joining the dark pool growing under her feet. Blood, her blood, steadily stained the floor below.
A rush of clarity sharpened her vision, further tying her to reality. She was still bound, her shirt ripped and bloody. Exposed. Shadowheart’s chest heaved in time with Aria’s. Her hand was out in front of her, covered in blood. Shadowheart only stared at the hand, the black ink in her eyes retreating. The black in her vasculature retreated down her veins before disappearing in Shadowheart’s chest.
Aria looked down at her chest. Five punctures sat around the boundaries of her heart, the holes wept. Aria’s breath stuck in her in throat.
Shadowheart’s hands. Her fingers were covered in blood. Aria’s blood. She reached out to the wounds in Aria’s chest. Aria flinched, but Shadowheart was steady in her pursuit. She gently brushed the wounds, placing a finger in each of the punctures. Warmth replaced ache. Aria watched the skin begin to stitch back together slowly as Shadowheart whispered an incantation. All that remained of the punctures were five purple splotches in her skin, like an ink stain on ivory parchment.
Aria’s breath slowed, and she looked up into Shadowheart’s eyes. They were glazed over with a fierce emotion, but Aria couldn't identify it. She felt terror, she felt hollow, she wanted…no, she needed…
And then Shadowheart crashed her lips against Aria’s. It was messy. Shadowheart kissed deeply and fully. She released the tendrils on Aria’s legs, and her other hand moved to Aria’s thighs, pulling them around Shadowheart’s waist. She held her there while the other tendrils released and Aria wrapped her arms around Shadowheart’s neck.
Shadowheart ran her fingers on the underside of Aria’s thigh, the fabric bunching and tightening. Aria swallowed what she could - breath, teeth, tongue, lips. She tightened her grip around Shadowheart, desperate to keep the moment in suspense. It was the closest she had been to Shadowheart in…
The thought vanished as Shadowheart explored Aria’s mouth with her tongue. Gods the taste, Aria reveled in her.
Shadowheart walked toward the bed before dropping them both on top of it. Aria kept her arms around Shadowheart’s neck and her legs around her hips. She had just gotten a hold, and it would take Shar herself to pull Aria off. Shadowheart rutted her hips down and Aria opened wider and moaned against Shadowheart’s lips, letting her desperation be known.
Her dreams were becoming visceral. Her soul going feral.
Shadowheart kept her mouth on Aria’s, biting off her gasps and moans as if to keep them a secret to herself. Shadowheart slipped her hands down and fumbled with the buckle of Aria’s breeches. Her fingers stumbled, the kisses became more desperate. Shadowheart seemed to be coming undone at the seams.
Shadowheart pulled herself away and Aria whimpered. Shadowheart growled in response before focusing on Aria’s waist. She undid the buttons and ripped the pants down her legs swiftly without care for the linen.
She paused for a moment, kneeling between Aria’s thighs. She looked right at Aria’s wet cunt, her eyes feasting on the mess she had already caused. Shadowheart ran her hand along Aria’s inner thigh with such a gentle touch that it took Aria’s breath away. It was the same hand that just ripped out her heart, the same that had held her very soul.
“You were so good for me.” Shadowheart didn’t take her eyes off of Aria’s cunt, open and waiting and wanting for her. “Such an act of devotion is worthy of a reward,” she whispered.
Aria’s heart squeezed as if Shadowheart still had her fingers wrapped around it. Maybe she always had.
Shadowheart continued her gentle caresses up Aria’s thigh until her fingers were just ghosting her lips. Shadowheart bit her lip and her eyes flared with hunger.
She looked up at Aria, right into her eyes. Shadowheart looked lost as if she didn’t know how she got here or where she was.
Her face contorted and Shadowheart snarled before pushing two fingers deep into Aria. Aria gasped at the sudden fullness, clenching tight around her fingers. Shadowheart pulled out, and Aria cried out at the sudden hollow feeling. Shadowheart provided her relief and began to fuck her in earnest.
Aria had waited oh so long for this. It felt familiar, and it felt new. Dreams of Shadowheart’s fingers haunted her. Her eyes had watched Aria in the depths of sleep, teasing her with distant memories.
Was this a dream? Had she been here before?
Aria would do anything to keep Shadowheart here.
Shadowheart found her lips again, biting and swallowing and drinking. Aria twisted her hands into Shadowheart’s hair and arched her back. She wanted Shadowheart to know how much she wanted her. She wanted to give her anything she asked.
A frantic knock came at the door. Shadowheart ignored it, continuing to ravage Aria. The knock happened again, louder. Shadowheart growled and pulled out, walking over to the door with Aria dripping over her fingers.
She opened the door wide with an angry look on her face. Aria watched the fury drain from her face as Nocturne’s voice echoed through the chamber.
“I have a lead.”
Without a glance, Shadowheart left and slammed the door. Leaving Aria in a mess of her own need, alone.
Notes:
Are people born wicked?
Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them (by a terrible cult to a horrible goddess that mind wipes you everytime you do any ounce of goodness)?
Thank you a million times over to my bestie Shirlsie. She beta reads, she holds my internet hand when I hate my own writing, she cheerleads me, she provides the best conversation and ideas to shatter all our hearts. I wouldn't have continued without her.
also shout out to the guild - y'all inspire me and motivate me. I am honored to write alongside such outstanding authors.
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LaCreaturaCruel on Chapter 1 Tue 05 Mar 2024 05:07AM UTC
Last Edited Tue 05 Mar 2024 05:13AM UTC
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strugglingcomet on Chapter 1 Wed 13 Mar 2024 12:35AM UTC
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aymr on Chapter 1 Sun 17 Mar 2024 08:13PM UTC
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strugglingcomet on Chapter 2 Wed 13 Mar 2024 12:39AM UTC
Last Edited Wed 13 Mar 2024 12:39AM UTC
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ME (Guest) on Chapter 2 Thu 07 Mar 2024 11:54AM UTC
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ME (Guest) on Chapter 2 Thu 07 Mar 2024 11:55AM UTC
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