The Grove was filled with the sound of drunken revelry.
Even with the melancholy produced by the revelation of Kagha's treason and Halsin's stepping down as First Druid, the druids were still gleefully celebrating his safe return and the salvation of the Grove. The tieflings were celebrating the road to Baldur's Gate now being clear and being able to move on from this temporary sanctuary to hopefully earn a new permanent home in the big city. Liam was celebrating not being dead, as well as the recommendation Halsin had just written him as a candidate for the 'Order of the Gauntlet', an order of temple knights - 'paladins' as they seemed to be called here - whose nearest chapterhouse was in Elturel. My party members were celebrating success in our self-appointed mission to take down this cell of the Cult of the Absolute.
And what was I celebrating? Very little, actually.
Of course, I didn't let any of this show on my face. I'd come up with the overall plan and made the pieces fit together, I personally led the key part of the effort, and so despite everyone else being venerated as well I was clearly the hero of the hour. And part of that job was allowing the people you'd saved to show you their gratitude, because the doing of that was a basic human need. So I kept the brave smile on my face and circulated amongst the bonfires and revels and said all the right things and drank to all the toasts, keeping my feelings to myself behind the mask of the brave steadfast commander.
"I know how you feel." Zevlor said to me quietly, as we shared a quiet drink away from the fire. "I was a captain in the Hellriders of Elturel. We weren't just a city guard but also an expeditionary force, driving away monsters and keeping things safe throughout the entire nearby region. We were so diligent that there was hardly a single point on the trade roads or the banks of the Chionthar that wouldn't see one of our patrols at least twice a day." He sighed. "Until the Descent came."
"I've barely heard anything about that, except that the city somehow descended into Hell?" I asked him. "How was something like that even possible?"
"With decades of treasonous preparation." Zevlor said grimly. "Almost fifty years ago the High Rider of the city was discovered to have secretly been a master vampire, with his vampire spawn carefully seeded through the city along with necromancers, collaborators, summoned undead-" He shook his head disgustedly. "That was years before I was born, of course, but my father told me of those dark days. At any rate, the undead infiltration had been exposed too late; by the time the people knew of the danger and started fighting back, they'd already had sufficient forces, been in position for long enough, to have the upper hand. Whatever victories the Hellriders and the people could win by day would be swiftly reversed at night, when they came out."
I resolved to ask Shadowheart later what exactly 'vampires' were in Faerun, because what we'd called vampires in Thedas were merely animalistic walking corpses possessed by Hunger demons and what he was describing sounded quite different.
"And then the miracle came. The Companion. A second sun, a miniature one, shining over the city both day and night. With this miracle on our side, the vampires rapidly lost. And a priest of Torm, Thavius Kreeg, took credit for having successfully beseeched the gods for this miracle and of course was rapidly elevated to the position of high priest and ruler of the city." He looked gravely at me. "And until the Descent occurred, none knew how deeply he had lied."
"This 'Companion' was a fake miracle?" I said, shocked at the idea of such power coming from anything but a god.
"Oh, it was a display of divine - or at least demi-divine - power, in truth." Zevlor explained. "But it hadn't come from Torm, or Lathander, or any of the gods of light. No, it had been a sending of Zariel, Archdevil of Avernus... whose spheres of power include hellfire, and thus, corrupted light. Allowing her to fake the manifestation."
"And the price for this miracle was the entire city in fifty years' time?" I guessed. "But how could this Kreeg pact for the souls of other people, and not just his own?"
"Very cleverly." Zevlor growled. "Because Kreeg had come up with a very clever plan indeed, and Zariel had approved of it enough to risk paying in advance. Over the decades of his rule, Thavius Kreeg as high priest had of course led all of the religious ceremonies of the city, as well as receiving all secular pledges of loyalty as its feudal overlord. And in every single one of them he exhorted people to always praise and honor the patron of Elturel, the one who had sent the Companion, and to be grateful for their gift."
I facepalmed. "Which by devil logic meant that each person in Elturel who ever made that pledge was signing onto Zariel's pact, even though she was never named?" I guessed.
"Your warlock friend would confirm that a fiendish pact is very much a 'buyer beware' situation, yes." Zevlor agreed. "Of course, it's much easier to swear to such things when you believe you are simply making a harmless prayer to the gods of light, as exhorted by a high priest of one. But there's no law compelling fiends to reveal their true name to you if you greet them by a false one."
"And so when the fifty years of the advance period were up, Zariel was able to to take the entire city." I reasoned. "But then how did you ever escape?"
"Because by the wording of the pledges, Zariel would only rightfully own the souls of those in Elturel who had pledged if the Companion shone down on the city for as long as they lived. Which was something that she'd intended to take care of soon enough, because the city had been deposited on the frontlines of the Blood War and we were rapidly hit from both sides, by devils and demons alike-" He shuddered. "And, of course, every living soul who fell during those days ended up enslaved for eternity, more fodder for Zariel's army." He looked up. "We wouldn't have lasted long at that rate - sometimes I still don't know how we lived through it. It wasn't even the Hellriders that saved the city, but a nobleman from Baldur's Gate who'd happened to be visiting when the crisis occurred. He rallied all the survivors, took command of the city once Kreeg and his cronies had been revealed as fiend-worshippers, led the defense of the High Hall... and raised and coordinated the heroes who led the mission to find and destroy the Companion, and by doing so free the city from the pact."
He spat bitterly. "And then after the day was saved, Elturel exiled us! Every tiefling in the city! Because it was easier to blame us for Kreeg's treachery, for the Companion that multiple generations of Elturans had been brought up to believe was their own special miracle of the gods turning out to be a lie, than to blame themselves! Because if it was all a tiefling plot - never mind that Kreeg was human - then the flaw wasn't with the religious orders that ruled Elturel, with the church failing to detect a traitor in their midst, with an apostate sworn to a devil instead of their own god going unnoticed by them for fifty damned years-" Zevlor's rage passed, and he slumped in despair. "They scapegoated all of us simply for the blood we bore, and ignored all the blood we shed fighting alongside the people we'd called fellow citizens for generations, helping save them from the devils. And now here I am, guardian and guide for a small band of desperate tradesmen and farmers, dispossessed of everything they'd worked for their entire lives, and all looking to me to get them safely to a new city where we hope we'll be allowed to start again... and I already needed your help just to get them past the first real obstacle." He looked soberly at me. "Not that I'm ungrateful, mind. Just... disappointed in myself."
"I know what that feels like." I commiserated with him. "I was the once the Champion of my home city, Kirkwall - so named because I'd saved it from a foreign invasion when our ruler had already fallen and our army had already been mostly defeated. And then barely a few years later I lost it all in a civil war started by the madness and treason of a man who'd been one of my best friends - someone who I'd repeatedly trusted with my life, and who I couldn't do a damn thing to stop in time-" I swallowed heavily. "My home city tore itself apart in madness, all rooted in ages-old hatreds and repressions I hadn't been able to even start to change for all my titles and ceremonies... and so I exiled myself after that." I sighed. "At the time I would have told you that I'd done it because I was leading any possible consequences of the war to come pursue me, and not take it out on innocent Kirkwallers. But right now I couldn't tell you if that was the truth... or if I was just running away." I looked soberly at Zevlor. "So take comfort in this much at least - at least you know that the people accusing you of having helped to doom your old home are lying. Because I don't know that, and I never will."
"Damn." Zevlor said, handing me the bottle. "Sounds like you need this more than me."
I poured a little into my cup and handed it back. "You already know it doesn't help past the first couple of drinks, I'm sure."
"Oh, I know." Zevlor agreed, and we both sat and sipped. "And yet as soon as you ended up here, you fell right back into saving people. I truly admire that kind of dedication."
"Old habits die hard." I said ruefully, my voice trailing off. "And when you've got people who need you then it doesn't matter how you feel, you can't ask them to stop and wait. The call to arms comes on its schedule, not yours."
"You would have made a good Hellrider." Zevlor toasted me.
"And to tell the less pleasant part of the truth..." I admitted. "For as long as I could hit the ground running, I didn't have to stop and think."
"And now you have, and you wish you weren't." Zevlor said knowingly. "Unfortunately, now duty calls both of us." he groaned as we both slowly arose. "I've got people to look in on, and I think so do you. But if we don't have a chance to talk privately again before our caravan sets out, then let me just say - thank you." He shook my hand. "Oh, and my people insisted on taking up a collection for you. I'll make sure you get it in the morning."
After we separated I'd barely made it to the next campfire before I was suddenly seized and hauled into the air as if I weighed nothing. My initial shocked reaction and reflexive struggle drew to a halt when I realized just who exactly had swooped me up in a bear hug-
"There you are!" Karlach squealed joyously, as she squeezed the breath from my lungs. "I'm glad I finally found you, because you entirely deserved the first one!"
"First what?" I asked. "And how is your skin cool?" I wondered, because I should have had burns raised on me by this time.
"First hug!" she laughed. "And it's because would you believe it, turns out these tieflings were also all in Avernus recently and their blacksmith, Dammon, he'd had a chance to learn a bit about infernal mechanics, like the one my heart runs on, and turns out that loot we scored from the old temple and the goblins' hoard included a piece of infernal iron, so he was able to fix me right up and now I'm not going to fry the skin off anybody with a handshake!" She squeezed me again. "Do you know what it's like to go that many years without a simple hug? Oh, I'm gonna squeeze the life out of everybody tonight!"
"Might want to ask first." I breathed heavily as she finally released me. "A person appreciates a bit of warning."
"Fair enough!" she giggled. "Say, d'you want to dance?"
"Two left feet, sorry." I demurred. "But I saw the tieflings' bard leading a dance circle over there."
"Then I'm off!" she said, giving me another quick hug. "But honestly, boss, if I hadn't met you then I wouldn't have met these people and we wouldn't have busted the goblin lair and none of this would have happened, so I've got to thank you for all of it! I just wish Dammon had been able to do more than a partial patch job because I'll still run a little hot if I get too excited for too long, so my original plan for thanking you is still by the wayside."
"You don't mean-?" I said, surprised.
"To ride you till we both see the moon and stars." Karlach leered at me cheerfully. "Well... if you're into that sort of thing." she trailed off bashfully. "Academic point now, anyway, I still can't. But... if we actually did find any more infernal iron, and Dammon puzzles out a couple more things...?"
"Then I hope you find someone you can be very happy with." I tried to let her down as apologetically as possible. "No offense, just... to be honest? I've never dated anyone taller than me."
"Neither have I!" Karlach giggled helplessly. "Although bit of a different reason why in my case!" She looked at me knowingly and continued in a softer tone of voice. "Relax, my feelings aren't hurt. A girl has to ask, even when she knows the answer is probably 'no'. But it's not me you've been looking for tonight, is it?"
"Um-" I said, caught entirely at a loss for words.
"Mum's the word, say no more." Karlach nodded. "Anyway, thanks for the new lease on life, boss, and I'll see you in the morning!" And then she was bustling off, heading over to where the impromptu dance party was heating up before I could even begin to figure out a reply.
"I had thought to save you from such deadly peril, but I see that I arrived too late." I heard Wyll say amusedly as he walked up to me.
"Enjoying the party?" I tried to make small talk.
"It's... been an experience." he replied, in a tone of voice that would have fooled anyone who hadn't been at court.
"Want to talk about it?" I asked him as I led us off towards a quiet, out-of-the-way nook near the supply room. "Because you've been through a lot recently."
"And you haven't?" Wyll said with friendly sarcasm, before sobering. "But... yes." He reached up and felt one of his horns. "I was enjoying myself at the party right up until the moment I realized that most of Zevlor's people were accepting me because they thought I was a tiefling like them. Which I am now, of course - but I meant, that they thought I'd always been like them. And these were people who I'd already been working with for the past couple of days, ever since I arrived at the Grove. They didn't even recognize me as the 'Wyll' they'd been introduced to then."
"They might not have met you then." I reasoned. "You hardly shook hands with the entire encampment specifically. Plus, it's dim light tonight, and few people are sober."
"All logical and true." Wyll agreed. "And yet... Mizora's punishment was intended to make me unrecognizable as the Blade of Frontiers. An overly-dramatic sounding title, I'll grant... but still, one that I'd fairly earned, through years of heroics and sacrifice for the people of the Sword Coast. All gone now, like sparks escaping from a campfire."
"When you talk about all the songs and tales they tell about the 'Blade of Frontiers' then you're talking about glory." I said to him. "And glory is always temporary, no matter what you do or don't do. But what you're really afraid that you've lost is merit, not glory, and that's entirely different. No one can take that away from you, no matter what lies they tell about you - or force you to tell about yourself. The only person who can truly make you unworthy is you."
"Wise words." Wyll agreed. "Much like my father tried to teach me many a time. And he was right, of course, and so are you." He looked downcast. "So why don't I believe them?"
"Your head believes me just fine." I said. "It's your heart that needs time to catch up." I snorted ruefully.
"And exactly how long does that take?" Wyll asked me knowingly.
"I'll let you know if mine ever does." I acknowledged. "But while you can't make it arrive sooner, you can definitely help it arrive later."
"True that." Wyll agreed.
"I owe you an apology, you know." I contributed to the growing silence.
"For what?" he asked me surprisedly.
"When I first heard that you'd pacted yourself with a devil for power I was this close to pitching you out of the group on your ear." I admitted. "If not running you through. On my homeworld, bonding with a demon for power, actually letting them put a piece of themselves in you, is an existentially unforgivable crime. It's called becoming an abomination, and it's a summary execution offense even in lands ruled by blood mages and demon-summoners, let alone any righteous kingdom." I looked at him. "The only thing that held me back was that I couldn't be certain it worked the same way here as it did on Thedas, but even then I was ready to declare you guilty until proven innocent."
"From what I've heard you and the others say of your homeland, I can't even say your reaction was unfair." Wyll nodded agreeably. "I'm honestly as surprised that you're as comfortable with Shadowheart's and Gale's magics as you are."
"My own father was a mage, as was my younger sister, and both of them entirely outside Chantry sanction or supervision. So while the common attitude on Thedas is that all magic is untrustworthy, I've never believed that." I nodded. "But blood magic? Demon magic? Abominations? Maker save me, I saw more of that go wrong in Kirkwall than most Templars have." Off of Wyll's expression I continued. "The militant order of knights sworn to the Chantry, whose primary duty was the supervision of Circle mages and dealing with blood magic and apostate mages." My voice fell. "Including one of my best friends, who for years I'd believed was proof that the Chantry had lied when they said all abominations were doomed to madness... until he demonstrated otherwise." I looked at Wyll. "Someday I'll tell you the entire tale of Anders the apostate, but the short version is, he was once a man who'd gladly have worked himself half to death healing the wounds of beggars and refugees without asking for so much as a copper coin in return... and by the end he was a remorseless butcher of innocents, and the instigator of one of the worst wars Thedas had seen in generations."
"That's what I've been afraid of." Wyll said somberly. "Ever since I saw how close I came to slaying an innocent, with Karlach. I'd thought I'd been so clever - that for all the compromises I'd made for power, I'd still negotiated well enough, been careful enough, that my blade would never be turned against the innocent... and if it hadn't been for you, Mizora would have gotten me to do it with just a few honeyed words." Wyll snorted. "And once I'd started... would I even have known the exact moment I went too far down that path to turn back? The moment I stopped being a man and became a monster? Would I have ended up like your friend Anders?" He sighed, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Could I yet still?"
"Wyll." I looked at him as if he were an idiot. "You looked a devil straight in the eye and dared her to take your immortal soul down to Hell on the spot for an eternity of torture rather than risk the slightest moral compromise. The moment you're so afraid of as the moment you almost fell? That's the very same moment that's making me apologize to you, for so badly misjudging you. You are a good man. Never doubt that."
"I'm... I'm honored." Wyll said thickly, moved almost to tears. "Thank you, Hawke."
"Now if you want me to tell you that you're a wise man, Zariel will be living in an ice palace first." I continued with rough humor. "Because for all that your honor isn't likely to be compromised any time soon, your soul on the other hand-" I looked at him commiseratingly. "You heard what Gale said, what Raphael indirectly acnowledged. Even if you live the longest, most heroic mortal life possible-"
"-nothing but an eternity of hellfire when it finally ends." Wyll agreed somberly. "Still... what else can I do, knowing that, except spend my life saving as many other lives as possible?"
"How's about not spending it at all?" I said exasperatedly. "Is there any way out of a devil pact? Even in folklore or myth, if you've never heard of a confirmed case? The Elturans managed it, with the Descent!"
"None." Wyll said. "And Elturel was an entirely different situation than mine. I already told you about the penalty clause if I kill Mizora or someone acting on my behalf does. That's hardly the only penalty clause in there - anything I could possibly to do to escape the contract, or at least anything I've ever thought of, has at least one clause immediately forfeiting my soul if I try. The only way out of this pact for me is if Mizora voluntarily releases me from it, unconditionally." He looked at me, his face calm with the calm that only comes when there is no more struggle possible. "You've met her; you already know why I'm not torturing myself with that hope."
"Damn." I swore helplessly. "Why did you even make that deal anyway? It can't have been for any selfish power or pleasure, not you."
"I'm not allowed to say." Wyll said. "Sometimes I think that her denying me any opportunity to explain myself is Mizora's greatest punishment." Wyll looked up from his wine cup to nod at me entreatingly. "Hawke, don't let me ruin your night. I've only known you a short time, but it's already becoming plain as the nose on my face that you are the sort of man who can beat himself up endlessly about the ones he's not allowed to save. So allow me, at least in my own case, to release you from that burden. You've given me a lot to think about besides my usual ruminations, I'll just sit here a while and get started on that. But as for you? Go and celebrate!"
I shrugged. "Celebrate how? I've already made the rounds."
"Perhaps you could take a moonlight walk." Wyll said knowingly. "On the beach?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." I said immediately.
"Of course you don't. Silly me, what was I thinking?" Wyll chuckled. "Have a nice night, Hawke."
"You too." I nodded at him, and moved on. I did the rounds of tiefling encampment and druid grove both, doing everything from accepting a grateful hug and a dance from Nettie to giving a very sanitized version of my origin story to Alfira the tiefling bard so she could start getting to work on writing 'a proper ballad for my heroics'. I couldn't pay a coin for a drink anywhere I went, and I started heavily watering my wine just to stay sober.
"Hawke." Lae'zel found me as I was taking a walk to clear my head on the battlement above the main gate.
"How are you enjoying your first Faerunian party?" I asked her.
"Much tamer than a post-battle feast would have been back in Creche K'liir." she said. "Very few of these tieflings or druids are warriors by trade. They celebrate their deliverance from battle, not their triumph in it."
"War is a way of life only to a small percentage of humans." I agreed. "To most of us, it's just a necessity to perform to earn a peace afterwards."
"There is no peace in this universe, merely temporary respite from threat." Lae'zel scoffed. "Tchk. Soft."
"And yet it just starts to grow on you." I said amusedly.
"Ridiculous!" she scoffed. "I am here by necessity, and because I pledged my word of honor to a common objective; naught more."
"Of course." I agreed, before realizing. "And while I had intended to bring this up tomorrow, now that you mention it-"
"The artifact." Lae'zel said intelligently. "The one you and Shadowheart were keeping secret from us. The one that is clearly of githyanki origin - I can read the runes on it, even if you cannot. The ownership claim is clear."
"I'm assuming you are honor-bound to return it to your people." I said. "Which presents us with a problem."
"Of course it does." Lae'zel rolled her eyes. "I could hardly miss that the Absolute would devour our brains the instant the artifact was no longer there to shield us!" She exhaled heavily. "You are seeking reassurance that I do not attempt to challenge her for it, or steal it, and return it to my people."
"I am." I agreed. "Can you give it?"
"No... and yes." she said. "If I take it from the group before we are freed of our parasites, I doom us all... and I am sworn to act as one of the party, to not betray us and to obey the lawful orders of the party's chosen leader, until such time as we are freed. So that alone constrains me from any such act. But I am also forsworn in honor if I do not make my best effort to return the artifact to my people, its rightful owners. And so I offer a... compromise." she forced out the last word as if it tasted foul. "The nearby creche, and the cure my people have for this infection. With a single act I can both return the artifact and remove the necessity for us to clutch it personally to our bosoms."
"So that's your compromise. That we set out to find the nearest githyanki creche as first priority, and return the artifact to your people there when we're cured, before heading to Moonrise Towers or anywhere else." I asked her.
"Correct." Lae'zel nodded. "Should we do otherwise, then I would be forced to choose between two dishonors. You would not welcome such a thing coming to pass." She looked down briefly. "And neither would I."
"If something else immediately life-threatening comes up, I can't guarantee we'll go straight to the creche. But I'll entirely agree that we should try to go there next as our first priority... provided you can think of a way we don't get executed as thieves as soon as we walk in the door."
"Agreed." Lae'zel said, with an expression that on anyone else I would have said was relief. "And a valid concern. I do not act as a loyal party member if I deliver you to death, after all. But while my people are known for their ruthlessness, we are also reasoning beings. Although I know not what the artifact is, the extensive efforts that have been made to reclaim it bespeak its great value. For the return of such a precious object to safety my people would owe a great debt; certainly enough to guarantee the lives of those who were not its thieves in the first place." Lae'zel must have seen something in my expression, for she continued reluctantly. "I would even fail to mention my suspicion that one of our number might possibly be connected to the theft."
"That... might be a problem." I conceded. "Because she's currently holding the artifact, and has sworn by her goddess to bring it to the high priestess who sent her to get it. And I can't promise she'll agree."
"Hrm." Lae'zel pondered. "I will stay my hand until her, you, and I have had a chance to discuss this fairly and openly. Beyond that... we shall see what happens. But at least I know that you are open to a reasonable compromise, if not necessarily Shadowheart. So I will this once try... diplomatic methods."
"Thank you for your forbearance." I nodded to her.
"Rest assured that I do it very reluctantly." Lae'zel agreed darkly. "But I am no fool; your regard for her goes well beyond mere respect, and after the ridiculous lengths I have seen you already go to in the name of "sentimentality", I certainly do not want any such sentiment provoking your blade and mine to clash." And then she actually smiled at me, the first time she ever had. "Your strength is laudable, your skill impressive, even if your taste in romantic partners is deficient." She nodded at me. "Go indulge yourself; I may or may not have had wishes of my own, but I am no child to pine after the already impossible."
Did Lae'zel just hit on me? Or say that she would have liked to hit on me...? I wondered incredulously.
"You did not even suspect? Typical male!" Lae'zel eye-rolled again, but somehow less harshly than she had before. "Go! We have said enough for now!"
I headed off, respecting Lae'zel's obvious wish for privacy, and made a brief check-in with Gale before finally heading off down the path that I'd been uncertain about all night. And sure enough, back down on the sand of the private cove we'd used twice before, she was there.
"You're finally here." Shadowheart said, still staring out over the water as I came up behind her. "I... wasn't certain you'd come."
"Neither was I." I confessed. "Fair warning; Lae'zel recognized the artifact when it saved our lives earlier, and will be speaking to you tomorrow about it. You're sworn to return to it to the temple, she's sworn to return it to her people, and I don't want either of you fighting each other over it." I nodded. "She offered a compromise; to trade her artifact back to the githyanki in return for their curing us of our parasites."
"I-" Shadowheart paused. "I- you know my mission."
"Shadowheart, you can't give it to anyone anyway - not while we need it to protect us. And if the githyanki can get rid of our parasites-'
"I-I understand you're only trying to be what you think is reasonable, but I can't-" Shadowheart said, panicked.
"Then that's what we have to discuss tomorrow." I agreed with her. "I just wanted to give you fair warning of what was going to happen... and what I'm hoping you can agree to."
"I understand." Shadowheart relaxed. "And- thank you for trying." She shook her head angrily. "And that's all the business I want to discuss for tonight."
"Absolutely." I agreed. "This is a beautiful night - we shouldn't waste it."
"No." Shadowheart smiled. "We shouldn't. Of course, it's entirely possible that you've had an eventful night already..." she teased me.
"True confession, I needed some fancy footwork tonight to avoid having an eventful night." I agreed.
"I know." Shadowheart broke out giggling. "I got a glimpse of you earlier tonight barely escaping being ravished by eager tiefling maidens. Most especially that pretty bard... which is odd, because I thought Alfira liked girls."
"Her girlfriend was the one alongside her in the yellow dress, offering to join in." I blushed.
"And you said 'no'?" Shadowheart asked incredulously.
"Shadowheart, I'm almost thirty-five." I pointed out. "Among humans, the time for frolicking freely with village maidens is in our teens."
"And did you? Frolic with the village maidens." she asked soberly.
"In Lothering? ... several." I nodded. "Nothing serious."
"And in Kirkwall?" she followed up.
"I think we need a fairer exchange if we're going that route." I chided her gently. "Have you had any experiences recently?"
"And how would I remember if I had or not?" Shadowheart punctured the mood.
"Oh. Sorry, I- overlooked that." I rapidly course corrected. "And in Kirkwall?" I sat down on the sand and continued more wistfully. "One."
"Did you lose her too?" Shadowheart asked me compassionately.
"Yes, but not the way you're thinking." I admitted. "Her name was Merrill. She was a... hrm." I realized. "I was going to say 'elf', but in hindsight I'm wondering if all the elves I knew in Thedas were actually half-elves by Faerunian taxonomy. Because when a Thedan elf has a child with a human, the offspring is almost invariably human - they'd breed themselves out of existence in a few generations if they didn't make sure to conserve the blood by having children only with other elves. And yet from what Halsin said-"
"Elven-human crossbreeds on Faerun are never round-eared, and it's been known for those with only one elven grandparent out of four to still have the elven blood remain strong enough to show." Shadowheart agreed. "I'm actually on the more human end of the spectrum of appearance for a half-elf; my ears are as pointed as anyone else's, but..." She gave a wordless wave of her hand down her body at her curves, which were indeed almost entirely those of a human woman instead of the usual slender, narrow build of elves.
"And I know from their folklore that Thedan elves believe their blood was 'stronger' back in the days when the elves were still a thriving race, and not a shattered remnant of a culture largely living in human cities." I continued.
"That does all certainly sound like only part-elven blood to me, not full elven." Shadowheart agreed. "So, a half-elf like me. Any other similarities?"
"Quite a few." I admitted. "You're not doubles of each other but there's a lot in common - your hair, your height, even something of your faces. To be honest, when I first saw you in that tube I had a momentary heart attack thinking that Merrill had somehow been abducted along with me, that was only dispelled when you first spoke and I realized that it was only a resemblance." Off of Shadowheart's expression I continued. "You have very different accents - yours I'm assuming is upper-class native Baldurian, and hers was from having been raised in one of the few wild tribes of wood elves still extant in Thedas."
"So you like me only for my looks." she joked. "Well, that's certainly not unfamiliar to me."
"You're also both highly intelligent, steady-nerved in a crisis, dedicated-" I continued.
"Flatterer." Shadowheart said amusedly, before her expression turned serious again. "If I might ask... you said you lost her, but that she didn't die?" she queried.
"I ruined it." I said. "I didn't-" I looked at her. "Do you really want to spend tonight hearing a long, sad story?"
"Do you want to spend tonight not telling it to me?" Shadowheart replied sagely.
"... yes." I replied after a long pause.
"All right." Shadowheart agreed, as we sat together and watched the waves. "You know, it's odd." she continued after a pause. "This. This celebration. Why we're having it." She paused. "How much I enjoyed it."
"You don't recall having anything like this in the cloister?" I asked diplomatically.
"I'm certain we didn't, but that's not what I meant." she said. "I meant... these refugees. We saved their lives. At great odds, with valiant feats and daring forays into the heart of the enemy." she declaimed poetically. "That's... not something I ever imagined myself doing before. Does it always feel like this?"
"Like what?" I probed.
"Good." she said softly, before shaking her head. "You were right, earlier." she finally continued. "I don't have any experience with this."
"Well, as I recall the first step is not being afraid. Or at least being more afraid of loss than of rejection." I explained.
"Bit of a problem with that one when you worship the goddess of loss- ah!" she suddenly winced, as her hand clenched in agony.
I growled inwardly at this damned thing yet again and reached over and grasped her wounded hand in mine, and for the first time since I'd arrived on Faerun consciously channelled my internal energy in the ways that Knight-Captain Cullen had unofficially taught me back in Kirkwall. I wasn't even sure I could manage this anymore, given how long it had been since I'd had a dose of smuggled lyrium, but Shadowheart was in pain and I had to-
"It stopped." she said, looking down wondrously at where her hand was clasped in both of mine. "Just like that! How- how did you do that?" she asked me.
"Templar magic." I explained to her. "Or more accurately, anti-magic. The mage-hunters of Thedas knew how to focus the will, aided by an alchemical preparation of... well, solid magic is the best way to describe it... called lyrium. If you take enough lyrium and practice the right meditations for a couple of years, you unlock the ability to dispel magic or withstand it by sheer force of will." I breathed heavily. "I wasn't even sure it would work here, especially given that very few people can keep the talents operative without regular lyrium infusions and it's been over a year since I've had one." I shrugged. "But sometimes you just get lucky."
"I don't understand." Shadowheart said, our hands still entwined. "I'd been told this was an old wound, not some type of- of magical curse. How did you know?"
"Just guessing." I said. "But I've never seen anyone injure their hand seriously enough that the bones still ached years later without also losing mobility in their joints, and yet you've always been as dextrous with that hand as your other one. Nerve damage was even less likely, not if you could pick locks with those fingers. And from all I've seen, the healers here could fix even that kind of lingering physical damage. So if it didn't make sense as a mundane injury then I thought perhaps there was a magical cause."
"Certainly seems as if." Shadowheart agreed, before we both suddenly realized that we were still holding hands. "And- I-" She blushed cutely, and my own cheeks started to feel warm.
"So it's not just me." I blurted awkwardly.
"What are we even doing?" Shadowheart replied mournfully. "I can't- I shouldn't-"
I released her hands. "Then don't." I agreed, masking my disappointment.
"If... if that's what you want." she agreed reluctantly, her voice hurt.
"I thought that's what you wanted!" I burst out, exasperated.
"Oh." she realized wonderingly. "Oh, you meant-"
"In the interests of clear communication." I drew upon all my willpower and diplomatic to say evenly. "I am quite attracted to you, and-"
"Stop. Talking." Shadowheart pressed me, and I did. "Please. I- Hawke, this is insane. When this is over - and it will all too soon be over - I have to return to Lady Shar. And you can't follow me there."
"Can't I?" I inquired.
"Lady Shar is the patron of darkness and loss." Shadowheart tried to explain. "Most people fear the dark, because in the darkness they see their fears reflected. But we are taught to step beyond fear, beyond loss. In darkness we do not hide - we act. Pain... hope... love... all of these are heavy cloaks that bend our backs and burden our hearts." A relentlessly analytical portion of my mind noted in the background that her speech had shifted to a heavy, even cadence - the voice of a person reciting an oft-memorized text, not a person speaking from their heart as she had been just a moment ago. "We shed those cloaks. Before Shar we stand gloriously free, free from mortal vanity and hesitation. We tear down the lies the world is drunk on, the institutions they trust. The so called gods they worship, we destroy false idols, topple corrupt organizations, fight heretics whereever found."
"But how does that reconcile with feeling good about helping the helpless?" I deliberately broke into her train of thought.
"It doesn't!" Shadowheart burst out frustratedly. "That's exactly what I'm trying to understand! Why- you are absolutely horrible for my mental focus, do you know that? Far worse than merely standing in a temple of Selune!" she confronted me, her voice full of emotion yet again.
"I think.. that I can't answer that question without telling you that story now." I surprised her, and we both separated and sat back in a more neutral position as I continued.
I explained about how I had originally met Merrill on Sundermount, and why she was being exiled from her Dalish clan. How the heroine of her clan had been tainted by an ancient artifact found in a ruin, and Merrill's obsessive quest to cleanse that artifact, to understand. How the demon Audacity, sealed away on the peak of Sundermount, had tried for years to tempt her with the knowledge necessary to restore the eluvian - the travel mirrors that the ancient elves of Thedas had invented at the height of their power, the gate network that gave them instantaneous travel across the continent.
I spoke to her about Merrill's brilliance - her selfless devotion to the welfare of the elves - her loneliness and isolation from those who feared her and didn't understand her, including accusations of blood magic - her suffering under the disappointment of her mentor Keeper Marethari, leader of her clan - the poverty and squalor of the Kirkwall elven alienage she'd refused to let me lift her out of for so long...
... and how I'd ruined everything we'd had together.
"We almost broke up the day I refused to give her the artifact of her clan, to try and alter the deep structure of the eluvian with." I said. "By that point Merrill was so alienated from her people that her only hope of ever being accepted back was to present them with a fully restored eluvian, to prove Marethari entirely wrong and her entirely right. And I thought that meant she'd fallen for the demon's lies, that she'd blinded herself to the truth. So rather than respect her wishes, or even try to discuss my concerns with her, I simply decided for her. She considered that an almost irreparable breach of trust... and she wasn't wrong."
"Almost irreparable, you said. She still forgave you, even after that much." Shadowheart said slowly, wonderingly. "That's... not very much resembling me at all."
"But it was a strain, yes. I still couldn't stop her from trying to restore it, though, even if I kept her from trying that particular method. And so the day came, two years later, when she finally tried her last desperate gambit. To directly approach the demon again, as she hadn't for years, and get the answers out of him one way or another." I said.
"Dear gods, please tell me she didn't-" Shadowheart said fearfully.
"She didn't." I reassured her. "Although she'd actually brought me along-" I winced in painful memory. "To do what a templar's duty would be in a mage's Harrowing, if I'd been an official templar and she a Circle Mage. To stand by while she mentally wrestled with a demon... and kill her if she failed to resist its possession." I sighed. "All along I thought she'd been willfully blind to the risks of what she was doing... and all along she'd known them in full, and been willing to take every precaution necessary. Even the ultimate one." Shadowheart's expression by this point was almost sick with worry, so I hastened to reassure her. "It's okay. I didn't have to do that."
"But it was still horrible." Shadowheart said knowingly. "How?"
"That's when we found out that Keeper Marethari had also been approaching Audacity... to try and spare Merrill from being possessed, even at the price of risking possession herself. And she had failed to resist it, where Merrill had succeeded. Merrill had asked me to come there prepared to kill her if she'd been taken by the demon... but as it turned out, we had to kill her instead. Merrill's lifelong mentor, the woman who was for all intents and purposes her mother. That's what she could never forgive me for."
"I can't- I can't even imagine how I'd begin to feel if Mother Superior were similarly taken somehow, and I had to slay her mortal body to spare her soul. But why did Merrill blame you for her mentor's death? Not simply because you struck the killing blow - given what she'd asked you to do for her if need be, that would have made her a complete hypocrite!" Shadowheart defended me passionately.
"You're right, and she didn't." I told her. "No, Merrill blamed me for having denied her the arun'holm years before... because if she had been able to repair the eluvian before that final day, instead of contending with the delays I'd caused with my refusal to believe she knew what she was doing... then perhaps Marethari wouldn't have had time to fall."
"That is not fair!" Shadowheart said. "If she said she loved you, then how could she sever herself from you forever over a might-have-been?"
"Because the most important thing in a relationship is trust, and the secondmost important thing is a respect for your partner's boundaries - to work with them, not dictate for them. To treat them like a partner, not a possession." I shook my head. "And I'd entirely failed to do that, at exactly the moment when I most should have. And that failure had Merrill lose something worse than merely the life of her mother in all but blood - she lost the opportunity to ever know for certain whether she could have saved Keeper Marethari or not, which was actually worse."
"Hawke." Shadowheart said softly, taking my hand. "I- I don't know what to say."
"I think the worst part of it is that she didn't 'sever herself from me forever'." I said. "We were still allies - even friends, to an extent - after we separated. She still came with me in the final battle against Anders, and then when the mage/templar war broke out immediately afterwards. She still stood loyally at my side and helped save my life, just like I saved hers." I sighed. "She just couldn't ever truly love me anymore, because she couldn't entirely trust me anymore. And I couldn't say that I didn't deserve it. So, after the Gallows fell and most of us had to leave Kirkwall... I let her go. Hopefully she's finding a new purpose now... one that she can be allowed to actually succeed at." I sighed. "She deserves no less." And I looked at Shadowheart. "And you deserve no less either, which is why I can't answer your question right now. If I did that... I feel I'd be making the same mistake again. Making your choice for you, instead of with you."
"Thank you." Shadowheart said softly, lovingly. "For sharing that with me... and for respecting me that way." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and her face firmed with resolve...
... and she drew close enough I could feel the heat of her cheek on mine, and she looped her arms around my neck.
"Not for me. But with me." she agreed, and we kissed underneath the rising moon.
Author's Note: Yes, as soon as we hit the tiefling party scene with a Shadowheart romance path, the kiss is inevitable. Destiny may not be cheated that way and I do not even dare to try. *g*
Did you know BG3 very annoyingly refuses to tell you anything about the damn Descent of Elturel except maybe one or two sentences? I had to use google. So I devoted page space in my fanfic to telling my readers, as a public service. Also, Zevlor needed some dialogue, and I was amused to realize him and Hawke had a bit in common.
And so you finally find out Hawke's specialization - Templar. Which was hinted at earlier at a couple of points, if very subtly. How the heck Hawke even goes Templar in DA2 is a thing they don't even bother to go with, so I went with 'it's possible to get smuggled lyrium and Hawke certainly knows the right people' and 'Hawke and Cullen become each other's contacts as far back as Act One, and Cullen starts doing his own rogue templar investigations in Act Two, so he actually has a reason to teach Hawke. Plus, neither other specialization remotely fit my Hawke's personality - he's certainly no berserker, and no reaver either.
Plus, that's how the Merrill romance ended for him. That's not quite a canon game path, but hey, story logic versus game scripting, you know where I stand.
