To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

by CallMeLyrus

Summary:

In search for healing after the fall of the Absolute, Shadowheart begins to dream of a strange bard, who seems all too keen to get to know Shadowheart. It doesn’t take long for the whimsical woman’s kindness to warm her heart in more ways than one.

Shadowheart finds herself in a complicated situation, where life pulls her away from her dreams, in which her love awaits patiently for her return. Will Shadowheart and Elody ever find a happy ever after?

Notes:

• Inspired by I Saw You in the Darkness by CallMeLyrus

Hey hey heyyy! Welcome to an alternative telling of Shadowheart’s and Elody’s love story. Elody is my OC from ”I Saw You in the Darkness”. It would be fabulous for you to go check it out. However, it isn’t necessary to have read any of it to enjoy this story.

This is a story of whom is known by me and my writer friends as Silverheart. I was wondering what might happen to her on her adventures if she ended up killing her parents. I wanted to give that version of Shadowheart some well-earned healing and an eventual happy ending. I do hope you’ll enjoy what I’ve started to cook!

The idea for this story was no accident - thank you, eldritchelf, for the seed!

Chapter 1: A Dream Is But a Shadow

Summary:

Oddly enough, Shadowheart was rather aware that this wasn’t real life. She decided there was no need to waste polite speech on a figment of her imagination.

”Who are you?” Shadowheart asked bluntly as the woman reached the tree under which she was sitting.

”Do you always tend to greet new people with so little grace?” the woman asked, a smile playing on the corners of her mouth. Her voice was velvety, mellifluous even. Shadowheart hadn’t ever heard a voice quite like hers. The woman sat on the grass in front of Shadowheart, crossing her legs. ”You don’t mind, do you?”

Baffled by the woman’s straightforwardness and strange looks, Shadowheart simply shook her head.

The Netherbrain had been defeated. The cult of the Absolute had been disbanded. And, after saying her heartfelt goodbyes to her companions, Shadowheart had left Baldur’s Gate. The time of rebuilding would not be attended by her. Although she had very few memories of anything, too many of those she had of Baldur’s Gate were simply too painful.

The pain in the wound on the back of her hand had stopped the moment she’d ended her parents’ suffering. But, Shadowheart had come to understand, there were far worse causes of pain than a cursed wound. Her parents’ words begging for their suffering to be ended played on a loop in her mind. Her father’s tired eyes, her mother’s broken body and spirit. And, finally, their promise, spoken in a raspy, yet solemn voice:

”By the Moonmaiden’s grace, we’ll never be far.”

Shadowheart cast her eyes to the night sky. Somewhere, she wanted to believe, her parents were watching over her. They’d been Selûne’s faithful followers. Their goddess must’ve embraced them in death. They were at peace now. But theirs were two more souls that had left this world by Shadowheart’s hand.

And Shadowheart felt rotten.

There had been moments along the way when Shadowheart had felt proud of herself. It would be hard to ever forget Karlach’s face, the sheer elation on it, when she’d thrown Shar’s spear into the abyss and freed Dame Aylin from her soul cage. Her friend’s hugs and comfort after returning from the Shadowfell had been a promise that everything would be okay. But she couldn’t bring herself to believe that anymore. Too much suffering had been caused by her hands. So it was better that she’d left everything behind.

She would’ve wanted to get a little further than Wyrm’s Lookout; the place was haunted by ghosts she didn’t really want to share her bedroll with. Alas, it was a reasonable, logical choice before heading out into the wilderness. She didn’t quite know where she wanted to go, as long as it wasn’t Baldur’s Gate. When the others had asked, she’d merely told them that she wanted to be alone.

Shadowheart gathered firewood like she had done almost every night for the past months. She lit a campfire. She cooked some toast and eggs on the coals. She ate. Finally, after a long day of blessed loneliness, she curled up on her bedroll by the glowing embers. The stars looked down upon her from the dark sky.

”Goodnight, mum and dad,” she whispered, as she had done before falling asleep ever since they’d become Selûne’s moon motes. There was a bittersweet sense of comfort in thinking they might’ve heard her each time.

 

*****

 

In her dream, Shadowheart was sitting under a tree on a grassy hillock. The branches of the old maple tree arched up towards the skies and provided a welcome respite against the warm late summer sun. A pair of swallows performed their joyful dance in the air, their forms but dark silhouettes against the bright, blue sky. Shadowheart closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle breeze on her skin. A deep breath in, and she opened her eyes. Immediately, she gripped the handle of the dagger hanging off her belt.

A woman was walking up the hill, towards her. She had chocolate brown, shoulder-length hair, and a pair of brown eyes to match. She wore a bard’s clothing, made of mismatched fabrics in colours Shadowheart had barely even seen before. She looked at Shadowheart with open curiosity. To be entirely fair, Shadowheart’s own expression probably mirrored hers; so vibrant was the garb of this newcomer.

Oddly enough, Shadowheart was rather aware that this wasn’t real life. She decided there was no need to waste polite speech on a figment of her imagination.

”Who are you?” Shadowheart asked bluntly as the woman reached the tree under which she was sitting.

”Do you always tend to greet new people with so little grace?” the woman asked, a smile playing on the corners of her mouth. Her voice was velvety, mellifluous even. Shadowheart hadn’t ever heard a voice quite like hers. The woman sat on the grass in front of Shadowheart, crossing her legs. ”You don’t mind, do you?”

Baffled by the woman’s straightforwardness and strange looks, Shadowheart simply shook her head.

”I’m Elody,” the woman finally answered Shadowheart’s initial question.

”Shadowheart.”

Elody raised her eyebrows. ”An interesting name,” she mused, but rushed to add: ”In a good way, of course. There must be a thrilling story behind a name like that.”

Alarm bells began to ring in Shadowheart’s mind. The woman was quick to ask personal questions. Why? What did she want with Shadowheart? Although Shar had left her alone since she’d walked out of the House of Grief for the last time, she couldn’t put it past her old brothers and sisters to hunt her down for turning her back on them. After all, she did know a lot about their operations…

”None that you’re entitled to.” Shadowheart’s voice was intentionally cold. Perhaps acting off-putting would get rid of the unwelcome, nosey woman.

The faint furrowing of Elody’s brow told Shadowheart that she was taken aback by Shadowheart’s sharp tongue. She had to commend the woman for how well she hid her displeasure, though. Anyone who hadn’t received the intense training in subterfuge that Shadowheart had gone through wouldn’t have noticed.

”You don’t want to talk about yourself,” Elody said. This wasn’t a question, but an observation. And Shadowheart cursed herself for letting her cover drop. She would have to brush up on her skills if she was to survive out in the world on her own. 

The time Shadowheart had spent with her friends had clearly made her soft. Not that she’d minded - there were some things people couldn’t go through together without becoming close. As it turned out, a quest to save the world from ruin was one of those things. Although it had taken her very long to warm up to her companions, she’d begun to truly appreciate their company.

But that was then, and this Elody woman wasn’t a friend. And she was shrewdly interrupting Shadowheart’s alone time.

”You’re right. I don’t,” Shadowheart replied to Elody’s earlier statement. ”As a matter of fact, I’d prefer to just be silent.”

Elody smiled. ”That’s fine with me.” Her voice was lighthearted. ”We don’t need to talk.”

The woman stayed there with Shadowheart, sitting quietly, patiently, occasionally eyeing Shadowheart with intrigue in her expression. At first, it irritated Shadowheart. Why couldn’t Elody just leave her be? However, the longer they sat there in silence, the more Shadowheart began to feel a sense of gratitude that, although only in this dream of hers, she had someone there for company.

 

*****

 

Shadowheart was woken up by something falling heavily on her stomach. She jumped to sit up, only to find a slobbery red ball in her lap. In front of her, with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, stood a white shepherd, looking particularly pleased with himself.

”Scratch!” Shadowheart was beyond happy to see her favourite boy. ”You came to find me! Did you not want to stay with the others? Surely they would’ve looked after you,” she cooed, lavishing the dog with pets.

Scratch cocked his head to the side as if he was carefully considering Shadowheart’s words. Truthfully, she wasn’t all that sure that he could even understand a word she was saying. It didn’t matter much, though. His company was welcome.

Company… Shadowheart suddenly remembered her dream. There had been a woman there… Elody! That’s what her name had been.

Shadowheart packed her bedroll away and cleaned her camp as well as she could. Just in case any Sharrans decided to track her down, she didn’t want to leave any evidence of ever having been there. In the back of her mind, she knew it may have all been in vain. No matter how hard she tried to cover her tracks, any Sharran worth their salt would be able to see the subtle smudging of footprints or feel the faintest heat still lingering in the ashes. But she did it just the same.

As she cleaned, she thought about her dream. In the cool, clear light of the morning, her dreams usually evaporated into vague fragments of memories, quickly fading into nothing over the first few moments of the day. This one felt… different. It wasn’t evaporating. She still remembered every word Elody had said, every odd look she’d given Shadowheart. And the anxiety Elody’s questions had elicited in her. It was known that Sharrans were able to manipulate memories - and, if so, why not dreams? Elody could well be a Sharran assassin, trying to access her dreams to locate her whereabouts.

I’d better be careful, Shadowheart thought to herself as she swung her backpack over her shoulders. ”Come on, Scratch! Time for an adventure!”

Shadowheart and Scratch made their way west along the Chionthar. A part of Shadowheart had wanted to travel eastward instead, to trace back her and her friends’ steps, but there was a fear inside of her that she wasn’t ready to confront. Scratch didn’t seem to mind, either way; he jogged along, chasing after squirrels who dared to come too close. Shadowheart giggled at the dog’s antics as they walked along the river’s edge. The day was beautiful, only the slightest chill in the wind indicating the arrival of autumn drawing closer.

A lovely, elderly halfling couple, who had been on their routine afternoon walk when they had run into Shadowheart and Scratch, offered them a warm meal and a place to stay for the night. As they led the adventurers to their farm, Shadowheart got to know them a little. Their names were Vaula and Geoffran, and they’d occupied their little patch of land since it had been bequeathed onto them by Vaula’s aunt and uncle nearly a century ago. Shadowheart’s chest felt warm as she listened to them recounting their lives together, living off the land. They were sad to tell her that they didn’t have any children, but were perfectly content with all of their animals and each other for company. And although Shadowheart’s initial idea had been to go it alone without having to talk to anyone, she realized she welcomed the casual chat with the halflings.

The farmhouse was small and cozy - exactly the kind Shadowheart had sometimes dared to dream about. Scratch was particularly intrigued by the pair of goats in the paddock behind the cottage. The goats paid the curious creature no mind, and Scratch soon found a comfortable pile of hay in the barn to lay down in. Shadowheart, on the other hand, was given the little guest room to sleep in. Thankful for the comfortable bed and her belly full of Vaula’s delicious stew, she drifted to a peaceful sleep.

 

*****

 

Elody was already sitting on the grass by the time Shadowheart entered her dreamscape. The brunette lifted her gaze off the grass and smiled, but said nothing. Each passing moment, Shadowheart was growing more and more suspicious. The silence between them was hanging heavily in the atmosphere. Before long, Shadowheart couldn’t stand it anymore.

”Why are you just sitting there?” she asked, again, not finding any need to be polite.

Elody shrugged, but the smile never left her face. ”You said you didn’t want to talk. I’m not going to push you.”

She’s thinking about what I want. Shadowheart was almost startled by the thought. She couldn’t remember many instances in which someone had considered her wants and needs above others’. But could she trust this stranger to have her best interests at heart? Why would she be so kind.

”I don’t mind having a chat now,” Shadowheart said. ”I wasn’t feeling like talking last night, but now…”

”Good.” Elody’s smile widening into a grin. ”I wanted to know more about you.”

Shadowheart couldn’t help the warmth spreading in her chest, the same warmth she’d felt talking with Vaula and Geoffren. Surprisingly comfortable. But Shadowheart didn’t want to give too much away to this woman. She could still be a part of a Sharran plot.

”Why don’t you tell me something first?” Shadowheart suggested.

Elody cocked her head, considering what to say. ”I’m Elody of Helm’s Hold,” she finally told Shadowheart. ”A Collector of Stories, they call me. ’They’ being the people who know me. Which isn’t the largest of crowds, I must admit.”

Something about the way Elody spoke delighted Shadowheart. As she continued to talk, her turn of phrase and animated body language drew Shadowheart in in a way she hadn’t experienced before. The conversation about Elody’s adventures in search of stories was effortless and light. Nothing in Shadowheart’s life had felt like that in a long time.

”So, I believe it’s your turn now.” Elody shot Shadowheart a cheeky wink. ”Tell me something.”

Shadowheart didn’t think twice. ”I’m Shadowheart, as you already know. I like night orchids, and can’t swim,” she said, immediately surprised by her own candor.

”I’ve seen many a place and come across flowers aplenty,” Elody said, ”but I must admit ignorance when it comes to night orchids. If you ever get a chance, please show me some.”

Shadowheart was happy to agree, although in her mind she did wonder where she could ever both find night orchids and transport them into her dream to show Elody. It didn’t matter, though. It was a dream. It was unlikely that she’d ever have to worry about it.

The women talked for what seemed like hours. Shadowheart told Elody about how she was travelling in the countryside with a dog she’d befriended, making sure she kept her exact whereabouts a secret. Elody, in turn, shared stories about her travels. She’d seen Faerûn, far and wide. However, she wouldn’t disclose her current location either.

There was a lull in the conversation after the two women had shared a laugh about Elody’s run-in with a particularly playful owlbear cub. 

”You’ll need to go soon, I believe,” Elody stated, catching her breath. 

”What do you mean?” A twinge of hurt twisted Shadowheart’s stomach. Did Elody wish for her to go?

”I have this feeling that you’re needed where you’re from,” Elody explained. ”You can’t stay here for good, you know.”

 

*****

 

This time, Shadowheart woke up to commotion coming from downstairs. She sprang into action without a second thought, grabbing her moonlight glaive as she dashed down the creaky wooden steps. She’d yet to see anything out of the ordinary when a gruff male voice shouted:

”There she is! Get her!”

 

Notes:

Thus ends the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading! If you’d like, I would love it if you left a comment and kudos on the fic. Nothing gives me more or a boost in creative energy than knowing people are enjoying themselves!

I’ll be working on a playlist for this story as I go along, but this first chapter was written to FOUND by Matt Hansen.

Chapter 2: A Dream of Friendship

Summary:

"You’ll never know, if you don’t give her a chance," the voice within Shadowheart whispered, full of potentially ill-placed hope.

”You’re thinking about something,” Elody said. ”I can tell. But fear not - you needn’t tell me anything you’re not ready to.”

That was all permission Shadowheart needed to remain silent and enjoy the feeling of being embraced without being embraced, known without being known. That was comforting enough for now.

Notes:

Not going to lie to you, this chapter made me nervous. I'd never written a battle scene before. I hope it turned out satisfactory! Either way, here's chapter two. Please enjoy!

The green blast of necrotic magic barely missed Shadowheart. She turned her head quickly. Immediately, she saw two Sharrans in the halflings’ living room, both in novice armour and white masks. Without seeing their faces, it was hard to know who they were, if they were from the Cloister of Sombre Embrace at all. They charged at her together. How had they found her this quickly?

Shadowheart’s gut reaction told her to send a fire bolt flying their way. No, she thought. I mustn’t torch the cottage. Outside. A quick dash brought her well outside the confines of the home. The Sharrans swiftly pursued Shadowheart into the moonlit garden.

Shadowheart readied her glaive, preparing for the first Sharran, a man, judging by his build. He was already bolting towards Shadowheart, his mace glinting in the moonlight. Before he could reach Shadowheart, she heard an incantation: ”Umbra!”

A magical darkness descended where Shadowheart stood, obscuring her view. But she had recognized the voice.

”Bluenail!” she called out to let her opponent know she’d been identified. ”Did you miss me so much that you had to seek me out?” The novice didn’t respond to her taunt.

The masked man’s mace came down in the darkness. Shadowheart’s reflexes took over, and she side-stepped the attack. As she moved, she landed a whack on his back with the shaft of her glaive. The man stumbled slightly. He quickly turned on his heels and brought his mace down in a new attempt at Shadowheart. Shadowheart was faster this time. Her glaive grazed the man’s forearm as she twirled to dodge the blow.

A sudden shriek pierced the air. Both Shadowheart and the Sharran man glanced around. Shadowheart saw nothing through Bluenail’s spell that still surrounded her - gone were the days when she had been able to see in Shar’s darkness. But she did take a few quick steps towards where she’d heard Bluenail’s scream. Out of the spell’s reach, she could now see Scratch holding onto Bluenail’s wrist, wringing her body ferociously. She had dropped her mace onto the ground. Bluenail tried her hardest to kick the dog, but so far seemed to have been unsuccessful.

“Good boy, Scratch!” Shadowheart shouted, although she was afraid that the dog would be hit by one of Bluenail’s vicious kicks.

The dog didn’t relent. He held on, his teeth sinking into Bluenail’s arm. But Shadowheart couldn’t observe them for long. The nameless man’s mace came at her, sideways this time. The head of the weapon collided with Shadowheart’s side, sending her off balance and onto the ground. The pain left her short of breath, and she had to force herself to roll on her side to dodge another strike from the man. Gasping for air, she kicked the man, landing a hit in his stomach. The man doubled over, and Shadowheart was free to get up.

Shadowheart was surprised to see that Vaula and Geoffren had joined the fight. Scratch was merely barking at the action from the distance, while the halflings were dodging Bluenail’s mace with surprising agility. While she still had time, she dashed towards them. The masked man wasn’t far behind; his mace made a whoosh through the air as he struck again, this time only hitting the soft ground behind Shadowheart.

While Bluenail was distracted by the halflings, it was all too easy for Shadowheart to deliver a swift strike with her glaive that left the novice in a heap on the ground. There was no time for respite - the man had dropped his mace, instead wielding a dagger. He charged, but, surprisingly, darted past Shadowheart. His blade found its mark, slicing into Geoffren’s shoulder. The old man wailed in agony, falling on his knees. The Sharran lifted the dagger to strike again. Shadowheart was faster. Soon, the man’s body lay lifeless on the ground. Shadowheart pulled the mask off his face, tossing it onto the ground next to his corpse. Monteith had been another novice at the cloister when she’d left, one of those left alive after they’d done away with Viconia. 

”Geoffren! Can you hear me, dear?” Vaula’s voice broke under the weight of her worry. Shadowheart rushed to tend to the halflings. Geoffren was lying on the ground now, groaning and holding his shoulder. Vaula sat beside him helplessly, her eyes darting around for anything she could use to help with the bleeding. The blood had already stained his clothes, and the scent of iron hit Shadowheart’s nostrils as she knelt beside him.

”Please, Shadowheart,” Vaula cried. ”He’s old, yes, but he’s still got a lot of life in him. I’m not ready for him to leave me. Can you help him?”

Shadowheart trailed her fingertips around the site of the incision, using her magic to feel the extent of Geoffren’s injury. The wound was deep, but nothing Shadowheart hadn’t healed before. Yet, when it came to actually casting the spell, she hesitated. She’d slowly started to get used to the idea that the goddess who granted her powers had irrevocably changed. She also felt a great sense of gratitude towards Selûne, both for looking after her parents in their passing, and for the aid she’d given to Shadowheart and her friends during the final battle against the Netherbrain. But now, after all the tribulations, she would’ve rather not used her magic. It felt disingenuous, like false prayer. She had more respect for the Moonmaiden than that. 

Vaula sniffled, her watery eyes staring at her expectantly, and Shadowheart had no other choice. She called upon the power of Selûne within her and released spell upon healing spell on Geoffren. She watched the tissue inside the wound seal itself together as the warm light emanating from her hand caressed each sinew. Finally, the skin that had been sliced through was looking almost brand new; only a raised red scar and his torn, blood-soaked shirt marked the spot where the dagger had maimed the old man.

Vaula and Shadowheart helped Geoffren back indoors. They settled him on the settee as comfortably as possible. He fell asleep there, after whispering a heartfelt “thank you” to Shadowheart.

The moon was still high up in the sky when Shadowheart returned to the guest room upstairs. The silvery light filtered into the room through the sheer curtains, casting the faintest of shadows onto the walls. Shadowheart’s chest ached strangely, as if conveying a sense of gratitude towards Selûne that dared not quite reveal itself. Exhausted from the fight and having drained the rest of her energy to help Geoffren, Shadowheart was claimed by sleep in no time.

 

*****

 

”Back so soon?” Elody looked surprised to see Shadowheart there. 

”Getting sick of me already?” Shadowheart asked impishly, although, being so tired, she could tell her grin didn’t quite reach her eyes. And Elody surely noticed.

”I hope all is well,” she said, dropping her bravado. Her eyes examined Shadowheart’s face, as if she was searching for clues of what bothered the half-elf.

Shadowheart let out a long sigh. She’d fought many fights in her lifetime. The one she’d just had with the assassins, her old siblings, wasn’t even close to the worst she’d experienced. But tonight, it felt especially heavy. No doubt, much of the discomfort she felt was due to her having to call upon Selûne for help to heal Geoffren. Knowing why she felt so weary didn’t help, though. If anything, it may have only made it worse.

Tears welled in Shadowheart’s eyes. In the swiftest of motions, Elody grabbed her hand. Her touch was gentle, as if Elody was afraid Shadowheart would break if she clutched her hand too hard.

”You don’t need to tell me if you’d rather not.” Elody’s voice was as soft as her touch. ”You’re welcome to talk about it, though, if you did want to.”

Something about having a choice about talking about what had come to pass made Shadowheart want to open up. But could she trust Elody?

Then again, a small voice in the back of her mind said, if she was a Sharran, why would she have told me that I was needed in the real world?

”Why did you tell me I needed to go earlier?” she asked for confirmation. ”You said I was needed.”

Elody cocked her head. ”I’ll try to explain, though it may seem bizarre,” she said, gesticulating with her hands in her usual manner. ”As we were talking, I got this feeling. It was subtle at first, but grew in intensity, until I just… knew.”

Shadowheart listened to the bard in disbelief - yes, this was a dream, and they were known to make little sense, but this was a level of strange Shadowheart hadn’t been prepared for. Yet, something in Elody’s demeanour made Shadowheart inclined to believe her.

”Well, I’m grateful. You may have saved me and a couple of others with your warning.”

Elody let go of Shadowheart’s hand and released a small hum from her throat, casting her eyes down and twirling a blade of grass around her finger. ”It was no bother at all,” she mumbled. ”I’m glad you’re alright.”

Shadowheart was surprised to see the bard so timid all of a sudden. Almost as if… But it couldn’t be. The woman had already proven herself to be kindhearted and considerate. Surely there wasn’t anything else behind her words. They’d only just met after all.

And, Shadowheart had to remind herself, this is a dream. Only a dream.

But there was something else there. Something Shadowheart couldn’t quite put her finger on. A feeling that transcended the dream and lingered even in her waking moments. It was as if Elody’s brown eyes could strip Shadowheart bare, look through the hurt that plagued her, and see what, after years of manipulation and brainwashing, was left of her. She didn’t see the broken woman, the ex-Sharran, the girl who killed her parents after torturing them for years. Elody just saw Shadowheart. 

Oh, how she’d longed to just be seen.

Shadowheart told Elody about the fight, and how she had healed Geoffren in the end. She glazed over who the fight had been against, implying they were simple burglars. She didn’t want to elaborate on why, but she did share with Elody the uncomfortable gratitude she felt towards the goddess who powered her magic.

”Would you feel comfortable going to a temple to pay your respects?” Elody asked. ”Perhaps—”

”No.” Shadowheart shook her head. ”I… I can’t.”

Elody reached out to Shadowheart again, this time to touch the back of Shadowheart’s hand, where the old wound lay dormant, undisturbed. ”I am here to listen, you know?”

Tears welled in Shadowheart’s eyes. ”My parents…” She couldn’t continue.

Elody shuffled closer, grabbing both of Shadowheart’s hands into hers. She held them firmly, instilling a sense of security in Shadowheart she hadn’t felt since Karlach had hugged her after the Shadowfell.

”Your parents would be incredibly proud of who you are, whether you worship their goddess or not,” Elody whispered. She locked eyes with Shadowheart, and the clarity in her brown orbs made it clear that she was speaking from some level of experience.

Shadowheart sat quietly, her tears blurring her vision. Elody’s face became a mere smudge against the green landscape, but Shadowheart knew Elody’s eyes didn’t leave hers for a moment. How long they stayed there, Shadowheart didn’t know. But Elody wasn’t in a rush to speak. And Shadowheart allowed herself to simply exist in her presence, to feel her own pain and confusion, knowing that this strange woman she’d only seen in a couple of her dreams was safe enough to bear witness to it all.

But Elody didn’t know. She didn’t know Shadowheart’s shame. Would she still behave the same, if she did? Would she be there, sitting in silence, holding Shadowheart’s hands, if she understood why exactly Shadowheart felt so conflicted about the goddess of her parents?

You’ll never know, if you don’t give her a chance, the voice within Shadowheart whispered, full of potentially ill-placed hope.

”You’re thinking about something,” Elody said. ”I can tell. But fear not - you needn’t tell me anything you’re not ready to.”

That was all permission Shadowheart needed to remain silent and enjoy the feeling of being embraced without being embraced, known without being known. That was comforting enough for now.

 

*****

 

Geoffren was a different man in the morning, bright and cheerful. The events of last night were all but forgotten. Shadowheart did check on him, making sure he wasn’t in too much discomfort. There was no need to worry - the old halfling was quick to start pottering around the garden after breakfast, as if nothing had ever happened, despite Vaula’s cautioning to be careful with his shoulder.

Vaula and Shadowheart stood outside of the front door, watching Geoffren with amused grins on their faces. Although Shadowheart had only known the couple for less than a day, she was quickly growing fond of the pair of them. They exuded an aura of peace that Shadowheart hadn’t felt since leaving the Church of Shar. And, if Shadowheart thought about it well enough, even the peace she’d felt with Shar had been a false one, a mere ruse to pull her in and keep her subservient. In fact, the truest peace she’d found had been in her dreams of late…

“So, my dear, where will your adventures take you next?” Vaula asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I’m not sure,” Shadowheart said, although she felt a little tug in the pit of her stomach. Something Elody had said in her dream was pulling her in a certain direction, although she didn’t know if she was truly ready. “I might visit Waterdeep,” she confessed, not elaborating where exactly her destination in the city might be.

“Waterdeep? That’s awfully far away to travel by foot,” Vaula mused.

She was right. Shadowheart had thought about the distance, too. By foot, the journey would take many moon cycles. Even on horseback, it would be a long time before she’d reach the City of Splendours. Then again, she was in no hurry. Nobody was waiting for her anywhere.

“I don’t mind the time it’ll take,” Shadowheart said, still deep in thought about continuing her travels.

“You know, you could always go by ship,” Vaula suggested. “There’s a little harbour where the Chionthar meets the sea. Some ships stop there on their way from Baldur’s Gate.”

Ships meant water. And water and Shadowheart didn’t mix. Yet, this would make it much faster to reach Waterdeep and do what Shadowheart needed to do there. She’d embarked on her lonely travels to find something she couldn’t yet name. But, surely, her search should include places she wouldn’t usually go. And a ship was definitely one of those places.

Vaula and Geoffren ensured Shadowheart’s backpack was full of food and water before she left the farm. Shadowheart was happy to make them a promise that she’d be back to visit them after her return to the area, whenever that might be. A few last pets for Scratch, and off they went, headed towards the docks that Vaula had marked on Shadowheart’s map. As she walked, Shadowheart thought back to the battle with Bluenail and Monteith. Both of them had been mere novices. Why would the cloister send them for Shadowheart? They must've been a mere warning. More were surely coming her way. She made a mental note to remain vigilant until she was further away from Baldur's Gate.

It was already late by the time Shadowheart and Scratch arrived in the little village of Rivermouth. What Vaula had called “the docks” was really a pier, on which a few fishermen’s boats were docked. A kind, if not slightly drunken gentleman told Shadowheart that the next ship from Baldur’s Gate should be passing the place first thing in the morning. With nothing to lose, Shadowheart decided to wait. She found a secluded little beach along the riverside and set up camp. Scratch curled up next to her. Soon, he was snoring comfortably, his tail wagging ever so often in his sleep. Shadowheart welcomed the warmth of her furry companion, and, after bidding her parents goodnight, she drifted to sleep under the stars.

 

*****

 

“No surprise battles with burglars this fine day?” Elody’s cheerful voice greeted Shadowheart as soon as she opened her eyes under the familiar tree.

“Not this time, but the night’s still young,” Shadowheart said with a smile, which, this time, was genuine. Seeing Elody there was like a breath of fresh air after a day of choking on her complex thoughts.

“Good.” Elody beamed. “I must admit, I was looking forward to our talk tonight.”

Shadowheart considered the bard’s words. This was now the fourth time she’d dreamed about this strange woman. Each time, they seemed to continue their conversation from where they’d left off the previous dream. This wasn’t random, like the dreams Shadowheart was used to having, where she had no control of anything. And, truth be told, she’d also been eagerly anticipating seeing Elody again.

“Sorry I wasn’t very good company last night.” Shadowheart’s eyes dropped to the ground. She’d felt so comfortable with Elody before, but now, she found herself ashamed of how much emotion she’d let loose.

Elody cocked her head to the side. “You were wondrous company, Shadowheart!” she exclaimed, taken aback by Shadowheart’s words. “Just because you were upset doesn’t mean you weren’t good company to me. So please, don’t be sorry.”

Shadowheart’s mind was immediately unburdened. Not in a way Shar did it, through oblivion and forgetting. No, Elody’s unburdening power was that of acceptance. Shadowheart welcomed it, although it felt foreign.

Their chat was light-hearted this time. No tears, no heavy hearts. Only laughter and, Shadowheart was happy to note, easy friendship. It wasn’t hard to like Elody. She sure knew how to make people feel comfortable. It was all too easy for her to make Shadowheart laugh so wholeheartedly she fell down on the grass. She didn’t sit back up, but stayed lying down. Elody joined her, and the two women lay looking up at the sky, finding shapes in the happy little clouds drifting by.

Old habits, Shadowheart realized, died hard. For a fleeting moment, Shadowheart found herself thinking about how Elody’s charismatic ways could be utilized to further the cause she used to be a part of. It was clear to her that Elody could easily make almost anyone spill their deepest, darkest secrets. Shadowheart pushed the thought aside. She didn’t have to think about that any longer. She was free from Shar.

This moment was clear evidence of Shadowheart’s freedom. Sharrans couldn’t afford the level of whimsy that it took to spend time cloud spotting. Shadowheart couldn’t remember a time she’d had time for such things; much of her time of late had been spent staying alive and defeating the Absolute. But here, Shadowheart didn’t have to worry about anything, other than laughing so hard at Elody’s jokes that she would burst from sheer joy.

Notes:

That's all for now, folks! I hope you liked it. I'd love to know your thoughts in the comments!

This chapter was written to the sounds of "Dreamgurl" by Besphrenz ft. Keith Goodwin.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Shalody Universe