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Don’t worry. I still have plenty of room for you in mind and heart.
Shadowheart’s words were sweet, and as Violet thinks back on that moment, she wants to believe in them. Truly. She wants to believe that the distance that has grown between them ever since they entered the Shadow Cursed Lands has been borne of simple necessity, Shadowheart shrewdly cautious with Shar’s blessing in such a dire landscape. She wants to believe that once they are finally clear of this place their usual rhythm will return. The more she thinks back on their time here the less certain she becomes. She watches Shadowheart kneel in fervent prayer, and lets her mind wander.
Violet had hoped that once they earned the protection of the little pixie when she freed Dolly Dolly from the moon lantern – or once Selûne had bestowed upon them her own defense from the curse through Isobel – that Shadowheart would feel more secure, assured of her options and less beholden to Shar. It had been a harsh reality check for Violet in the end. The proximity of Selûnite magic had only served to drive Shadowheart further into fanaticism. Violet couldn’t chase the thought that maybe her consistent position of patient tolerance for Shadowheart’s religion had been a mistake. Could she have helped Shadowheart see how misaligned she was with Shar if only she had pushed back a little harder from the beginning?
The more evidence of Shar’s malevolence they stumbled upon here in the dark, the more Shadowheart appeared to double down entirely; she was adamant to mock Selûne at every turn, to find any excuse to ridicule Vi’s own worship – be it to Selûne or even Eilistraee at this point – and further venerate Shar. It was beginning to turn Violet’s stomach. The only consolation was how easy it was to see through the cleric in these rambling moments. Who did she think she was fooling? Herself, or Shar? Every word of it rang hollow.
How could Shadowheart look at the blight Shar wrought on this land and see anything but corruption and evil? How could she face the likes of the twisted Sharran physician Malus Thorm, and not question the morality of the goddess they shared? When had even one of Shar’s faithful ever proven more friend than foe? In this Shadowheart stood alone. The only exception.
When Violet found the flower her heart soared. Surely this would help her close the widening gap Shadowheart spread out between them. Surely the sight of her favorite flower would bring Shadowheart back to herself, if only just. When Vi returned to camp with the token Shadowheart had been mid-prayer. It crossed her mind to pretend not to notice and take a seat right there on the cleric’s stool. It wasn’t Violet’s manner to interrupt Shadowheart in this way, but perhaps a break in decorum was called for. Shadowheart was slipping further and further away every day.
Instead Violet sighed and busied herself with helping to prepare the camp meal. Take a break, Gale – you’ve got enough on your plate. The bad joke had brought a smile to the downtrodden wizard’s weary face, in spite of himself. He relented, handing over cooking duty to the more capable hands of the Eilistraeen, to the other companions’ tremendous relief. Their resident wizard meant well, but book knowledge of cooking could only take a person so far, whereas Violet treated their meal preparation as a form of worship.
Hours had gone by and Shadowheart was still meditating. Shar’s hold over her was so oppressive, Vi wondered how Shadowheart could even breathe.
After dinner, which Shadowheart skipped again, Vi met Gale in a glade outside of camp. His magic had impressively transformed the place to one of beauty and wonder. It was almost easy to forget they were deep in the throes of the Shadow Curse here. When he was ready to turn in for the night Vi asked him for the favor. It hardly felt fair to ask the man for anything while the burden of the world and Mystra’s expectations weighed on him so heavily, but for Shadowheart Vi would do just about anything.
“Would it be too much to ask to keep this facade up a little while longer, Gale? I think it would do our cleric some good to see this.”
“It would be an honor, Violet, and a good distraction for me. I think I can manage it for a few more hours.”
With that, Gale retired to camp and Vi checked back on Shadowheart, still lost in worship. It made her want to scream. She suppressed the urge and instead warmed the plate of food she set aside for her earlier, and placed it quietly on the cleric’s stool. The aroma was bound to rouse Shadowheart from her trance before too long; after all, Vi had prepared her favorite meal. She left a trail of moonmotes behind for Shadowheart to find her in the clearing, the thought of the Sharran following Selûnite-coded breadcrumbs brought a devilish smile to the half-drow’s lips.
It wasn’t long before Vi’s plan proved effective. She sat on a blanket in the grass Gale conjured, observing the magical facade of a starry night sky adorned with blue, green and purple auroras, like he had painted the horizon with a brush of celestial light. He had even added the sounds of crickets and nocturnal animals, forgetting no details in weaving the vivid tapestry before her. She could hear Shadowheart’s breath catch in her chest as she approached.
“This is incredible.”
“We have Gale to thank for this,” Vi replied, her hand wandering shyly to the back of her neck. “I wish I could have done this for you on my own.”
The sight of Shadowheart’s smile caused Vi’s stomach to flip. Gods she had missed this. She reached out a hand and gently coaxed Shadowheart to sit beside her.
“Why expend your own energy when you can snap your fingers and have it from the hand of another?” Shadowheart asked in response to Vi’s lament.
The half-drow stifled a frown. Every word out of Shadowheart’s mouth lately had this kind of edge to it, like the world and everyone in it existed only to serve, to be exploited. She bit back a retort and tried to focus on this moment. It wasn’t too late to get through to Shadowheart. It couldn’t be.
“Close your eyes,” she said, ignoring the stubborn arc of the cleric’s brow.
Vi moved to sit behind Shadowheart, closer now to the other woman than they had been in weeks. The scent of Shadowheart’s hair intoxicated Violet, who struggled not to swoon as she brought her hands playfully to cover the other woman’s eyes.
Shadowheart appeared to shuffle as Vi sat behind her, but not further away. Vi blushed as Shadowheart’s body pressed back into hers, an unmistakable warmth coursing through her legs as she practically straddled Shadowheart’s hips in this position. Before she could get lost in the moment entirely, Vi reached down to grab Shadowheart’s hand puppeting it until she was sure Shadowheart would keep her own eye covered so she could retrieve the flower.
“Open,” Vi said, holding the night orchid out in front of Shadowheart.
She took in the flower silently for a moment, then turned to face Violet with a look of grave concern.
“Oh, hells. You didn’t pick that by hand, did you? They’re deadly poisonous!”
Vi looked down at her hand, confounded, having observed no signs of poison when she plucked the flower, nor when she nervously handled it for hours waiting for Shadowheart to emerge from the pit of Shar. Then Violet saw the first signs of a smile touch the corners of Shadowheart’s eyes, before spreading to her lips. She made a playful gesture with her hands, and Vi was relieved to see this lighter side to Shadowheart again, rising from the ash.
“Joking! They’re safe – and beautiful. Thank you,” Shadowheart smiled and Vi felt herself get swept away in her gaze. The green of Shadowheart’s eyes blazed brighter, drawn out by the shining night sky and the brightness that had returned to them at long last. “I don’t have anything to give you in return, I’m afraid.”
If only Shadowheart knew then, the priceless gift that was this moment for Violet. Her smile, her attention, the proximity – it was the only thing Violet wanted in the worlds. Perhaps if she had told her so, things would have been different now.
“Well, I’d better take it back then,” she whispered instead, flashing a cheeky grin. Then with a flourish Violet disappeared the night orchid from the palm of her hand before Shadowheart’s eyes.
“Ahem, no you shall not!” Shadowheart snorted indignantly. She reached playfully behind Violet’s back to retrieve the flower, then punished Violet’s insolence with playful fingers digging in her rib cage causing the half-drow to squirm and giggle at her touch. “I’d hate to reward a kind gesture by breaking your fingers.”
As their fingers touched, Vi relented and with another clever sleight of hand the flower was back in her grasp. She pressed it reverently into the palm of Shadowheart’s hand. A small token of affection holding the weight of Violet’s unspoken love, placed on the same hand Shar had seen fit to mar with her wicked malevolence. Almost as though this irony was not lost on Shadowheart she added:
“Give me some time – I’ll see if there’s a way I can make it up to you.”
Violet imagined leaning forward, closing the narrow space between them and pressing her lips to Shadowheart’s, but she refrained. If Shadowheart wanted to offer up a kiss she would have. Vi smiled, hoping it would sufficiently mask the rejection she felt sinking deeper into her face by the moment, then stood.
“I should leave you to your thoughts. We have a big day ahead of us. Goodnight, Shadowheart,” Violet said finally, as she turned to walk away. If Shadowheart replied, it wasn’t until Vi was well out of ear-shot.
Many days had passed since that night in the clearing. Many distant days. By now Shadowheart had completed her trials, reclaimed her Lady’s spear. The flower brought them no closer, though Violet had sworn she saw Shadowheart pressing it into a book one night at camp. A fleeting hope.
Now as Violet watches Shadowheart kneel before the pool of brilliant blue water, caught once again in a long moment of fervent prayer, she knows it’s foolish to let her mind wander in such a way. Her focus should be here and now. Her concern should be the woman on her knees before the pool, and if she was still the same person after all of this. Would it be her Shadowheart that emerged at the end of this path? Violet would be a fool not to consider the possibility that what lay ahead for her now was to be slaughtered at Shadowheart’s altar, the closest thing to a Selûnite on hand to sacrifice to the Nightsinger in exchange for the title she so coveted.
The other companions had begun to nervously shuffle their feet nearby as Shadowheart prayed, clearly as uncomfortable with this drawn out orison as Violet.
“All right, no need to dash in ahead of me,” Shadowheart says, finally taking to her feet. “I'm ready.”
She glances over her shoulder to meet Violet’s stare. Vi can’t refrain from swallowing as their eyes meet. Shadowheart furrows her eyebrows and approaches Violet, stepping away from the others to speak privately.
“Something the matter?”
Violet doesn’t know where to begin to answer. There is a pit in her stomach, and a lump in her throat. There is a very real possibility the woman she loves is going to turn on her the moment they enter the Shadowfell, and Violet can’t bear the thought of raising her blade to Shadowheart.
“I’m afraid,” Violet says simply. Will she lose what’s left of Shadowheart’s respect with this confession? “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.”
Violet blinks at the cleric’s quick response. She sounds assured. Resolute.
“Promise me.”
Shadowheart doesn’t answer. Instead she closes her eyes, leans in close, her hands on the collar of Violet’s armor plating. She pulls Violet into a kiss, their lips colliding like crashing waves on the shore. The weight of every moment apart, every night spent alone, every kiss and every word they didn’t share, every hope and every disappointment, swirls in a tide strong enough to suck Violet out from the shoreline. She would willingly drown in the sea of Shadowheart’s love that she will not confess, but cannot be denied. Violet can feel it coursing through Shadowheart’s fingertips as her hand reaches out to cup her face.
Violet holds the cleric’s hips, craving every bit of her warmth, unwilling or unable to let her go. Shadowheart’s thumb brushes Vi’s cheek tenderly as she pulls away to meet her gaze. As Violet struggles to reclaim her stolen breath, Shadowheart whispers in reply, and Violet finally believes her.
“I promise.”