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“Your life is mine. Accept your inheritance, or I will reclaim it.”
Melkoras stared at the reflection in the pool of blood. The avatar of Bhaal, their creator, father and god.
They glanced behind them, to where Halsin, Jaheira and Astarion were standing outside the arena, not daring to move. Halsin’s eyes were glowing golden, and his hands were clenched. His face was wet with tears. Astarion was glaring at the ground, a snarl on his lips, and Jaheira had paled, her face blank like stone as she watched them.
To refuse Bhaal...
To refuse Bhaal may well be to die. To leave Halsin alone again in this city of chaos after a hundred years of darkness he’d only barely begun to step out of. To leave Astarion and Jaheira behind in the dark.
But Halsin’s jaw tightened and he nodded at them. “I love you, my heart,” he said, his voice breaking from the effort of being raised so it would carry to their ears. Halsin was wise, and kind, and sometimes far too selfless. Melkoras couldn’t bring themself to stay a slave even for their dearest love, and he knew that and agreed, though it tore him apart. Jaheira put her arm around his waist, offering some comfort, but Halsin didn’t move.
Melkoras squeezed their eyes shut and turned back to Bhaal’s avatar, floating in the blood as Scleritas’s mangled form hovered above. “I would rather die than accept you, Bhaal.” They said, firm and quiet.
And the world seemed to fracture.
Pain.
Pain like they’d never felt, pain boiling their blood until all they could see was red. Pain so intense they lost feeling and senses, they were nothing. Nothing but the pain.
A voice, deep inside and out, reverberating through them. Even through the pain, it was impossible to not hear it.
“You were made to conquer.” Red. Black. Mist across their vision as it faded back in.
“To devour.” The pain faded just enough for Melkoras to feel as their body was puppeted, lifted into the air in a grotesque copy of Scleritas. Helpless, unable to move, all they could do was squeeze their eyes shut. “You reject my blood, and so I will reclaim it.”
The pain was fading, overtaken by the familiar gentle numbness of blood loss.
It did not feel comforting like when Astarion took a drink in the night. Not warm with the glow of a Restoration spell from Halsin the morning after. Not calming like the way they all checked in on them if they were feeling dizzy.
No. This was just cold.
They didn’t hear Bhaal’s final line. They didn’t hear Halsin’s cry of rage, Astarion’s shout or Jaheira’s soft, sucked-in breath.
They definitely didn’t hear what Withers said, though they could tell he was here for some reason.
Their vision blurred with exhausted tears.
They were dying.
Melkoras didn’t have a mortal mother. They were the purest of Bhaalspawn, formed from His immortal flesh.
Reclaiming Bhaal’s blood from them... meant there would be nothing else left.
It was so cold, but peaceful.
They’d survived Bhaal, outlived their Urges, even if just by minutes. That was a victory, despite them being unable to claim it.
All they could think about was Halsin.
Warmth touched them. They forced their eyelids to open a crack to see glowing gold.
Halsin.
A hand cupping their face. Familiar. Loving. A second hand, a second face, colder and full of anguish. Their heart and their best friend, united in grief. They wanted to apologise. Say they loved them both, one more time.
The flash of healing magic did not touch them.
Halsin...
And then nothing.
(Was that Withers?)
And then-
And then-
Life poured back into their broken body, flooding their veins with blood and magic and forcing their heart to beat anew. Melkoras reeled upright, clutching at their chest, and found Halsin on their left, half-feral and sobbing.
Their hands found each other, Halsin’s moving to check pulse points and run over their arms and back as he pulled them flush against him, murmuring things Melkoras couldn’t parse through the ringing in their ears but understood all the same - vows of love and pride through the heaving of his breaths.
They felt... dazed. Shocked. They were shivering harshly.
After a few seconds of frantic examination Halsin seemed to come to the conclusion that they were alright and simply settled them against his body, stroking their hair and pressing his lips to their forehead. He was trembling. Sobs wracked his frame.
Melkoras closed their eyes, squeezed them tightly shut, and clung to him.
They were alive. By some miracle, they were alive.
In the temple of Bhaal, sitting in a pool of blood, cradled by Halsin, the former Bhaalspawn whispered an apology.
“No!” Halsin pulled back, staring down at them. His face was wet with tears and blood, his eyes still faintly glowing golden. “If you had not returned, my heart, I would be grieving but proud of you. And I am so proud of you.” His lips pressed to their forehead. “As much as it hurt my heart to witness, you did the right thing. Do not apologise. You are so brave.”
Their eyes burned.
“He’s right,” Astarion had unchained Yenna and was holding her hand, keeping the child from running off as Jaheira looked her over. He stared down at the lovers, wrapped in each others’ embrace, and shook his head. “Better to die than remain a slave.” Held in the vampire spawn’s free hand was Orin’s dagger, the red Netherstone suspended in the handle. Astarion frowned at the pair. “If you have a master, your power is not yours, but his. I know that all too well, and Bhaal would have been your master - was your master.”
Halsin’s hand stroked their hair. “And we all deserve to be free. Even you, my heart.”
“Especially you.” Jaheira said firmly. “Now, let us get out of here before those Bhaalists decide we’re next on the menu.”
Astarion took the lead, armed with Orin’s knives and snarling at anyone that got too close. The blood-smell had put a certain feral tint in his eye that helped with the intimidation.
Following behind came Jaheira with Yenna clinging to her robe, the older druid’s eyes sharp. Yenna was quiet, but did as she was told, clearly understanding how close she’d come to death.
Bringing up the rear, Halsin shifted into the form of a bear and Melkoras gratefully climbed atop his back, settling just behind the large shoulders. In wildshape, he could easily carry their heavy armour and shield them from anything they were too exhausted to defend against.
They didn’t remember making it back to their soft bed in the Elfsong, but they opened their eyes to find themself there, seated on the side of the mattress.
Halsin was kneeling before them, removing their armour with slow, methodical movements and wiping it down with a cloth. He smiled softly when they met his eyes. A glance at the window showed the dim light of evening. “Back with me, my heart?”
Still exhausted, Melkoras let their eyelids flutter shut. “Mhm,” and shifted their hips so he could reach the strap he was reaching for, then groaned at the stiffness and pain that followed the movement.
“Easy there,” Halsin’s low voice was a balm on their senses. His hands, large and warm, slid up their thighs to their hips. “Te curo.” A flash of light, and the pain faded away.
“Mm.” They leaned forward, cracked their eyes open to ensure they had the aim right, and dropped a kiss on Halsin’s forehead. “Did’n even fight that hard. Orin was a bitch, but I’m better.”
“Duelling to the death aside, you were also thoroughly exsanguinated, my heart,” Halsin ran a hand back down their leg, but this time the movement was purposeful. “By a god, no less. I can’t imagine the stress your body must be carrying.” His fingers curled around their foot. “Let me help?”
Melkoras nodded as Halsin began to massage their foot. “Always the healer, my love,” they teased tiredly, glad that they were at least ostensibly shielded from the rest of the rooms by the privacy screen - someone had thought to drag that over.
Other than the two of them, the rooms seemed quiet. Not quite empty, but quiet.
Silence passed between them for several minutes before Melkoras’s mind caught up. “Where are the others?”
“They decided to take Scratch on a walk and touch base with Shadowheart’s group, now that we have a Netherstone too,” Halsin moved to their other foot, his talented fingers sliding over tight, painful spots and gently soothing them. “I thought you might enjoy some quiet.”
Melkoras began to stretch their hands, trying to pull out the stiffness as Halsin worked on their feet. “I’m glad you’re here,” they said, and their throat tried to close up with a sob.
“Likewise, my love.” Halsin paused and took one of their hands in his, pressing a kiss to the palm. His warm eyes looked up, full of love and care and understanding. “It’s over. He has no claim to you any longer.”
“Fuck him.” Their voice broke. “Fuck all of those cunts.”
The archdruid climbed to sit beside them, resting one hand on their knee. Melkoras leaned their head against his arm, pressing up to his side. “What do you need, my heart?” He asked, and Melkoras fell in love all over again.
They took his hand in theirs, fiddling with his warm fingers. It was a minute before they gathered a response. They were exhausted. “Honestly... sleep. The rest will come. Is Yenna doing alright?”
“Astarion and Jaheira talked to her, but I think she needed some quiet. I can’t sense any distress...” He leaned to the side to peer around the screen. “She is asleep by the fire. Safe and sound. Withers is sitting with her.”
“He’s the one who brought me back, isn’t he?” Melkoras frowned. “I heard his voice, but I can’t remember what he said.”
“None of us can, but yes, he did.”
“I guess I owe him a thanks, then?” They blinked down at their joined hands. “Not sure what exactly he did, but... I think I owe him a very big thank you.” They felt... more stable. The Urge to kill was entirely absent, as was the constant headache. All they could feel was the lingering pain and stiffness that Halsin had been working on.
Halsin tucked his nose into their green hair, inhaling deeply. “Mm. You smell slightly different. More alive.”
“You’ve never said I smelled weird before,” Melkoras leaned closer, shutting their eyes again, and Halsin shifted his arms to cradle them against his chest. “Add that to the list of weird bhaalspawn shit.”
Halsin hummed deep in his chest. “It is subtle, certainly. But the bear is close to the surface at the moment, so my senses are very sharp. Lay down with me? We can rest until the others return.”
They were already in position, heaviness pulling at their limbs as Halsin directed them down onto the mattress and tucked himself behind them, a large arm curled over their shoulders. “...nope, hang on,” Melkoras rolled onto their back. “C’mon, cuddle. Squish me,” they demanded with a sleepy smile.
Halsin obliged with a slightly sad smile, resting his chin on their collarbones and laying across their lower body. All the tension remaining seemed to vanish, and Melkoras let out a sigh of relief as they hugged their lover close. “Love you, sunshine.”
“And I love you, my heart, far more than I ever could have hoped.”
They drifted off to sleep, and did not dream