Chapter Text
Halsin was hurting.
Kiaran wasn’t sure why- wasn’t sure what had happened. And he wasn’t sure how, or even if he could help. But the past few weeks, it had become glaringly clear that something was wrong. The elf loved to talk, and yet he had been so quiet, even when surrounded by the commune’s orphans. Even at night, when telling them their bedtime stories, he opted to read from a book instead of telling one of his own tales. And his voice was so distant while doing so, too, like he was going through the motions of reading while his mind was elsewhere.
If it was just that, Kiaran might have thought Halsin simply had a lot on his mind in this transitional time in their lives. They hadn’t been at their commune for too long, after all, and surely Halsin was thinking of many heavy things as they reclaimed the land that had spent the past century covered in shadow. But Halsin was distant from Kiaran, just as he was with the others: deliberately so. Kiaran could tell it was deliberate, for Halsin pulled away almost half the time Kiaran reached for him now. Even at night, in his meditations, Halsin would jolt when touched and then proceed to find somewhere else to rest, with a mumbled apology and a promise to find him later.
No, something else was clearly the matter, and Kiaran didn’t know what, nor did he know how to ask Halsin. True to form, his kind and supportive partner was all but unable to ask for help, no matter how much he needed it, and that went doubly so when those troubles were of the emotional sort. Halsin had admitted once to having gone for so long without confidantes thanks to the Shadow Curse that he was still adjusting to the idea it was possible for someone to care about his troubles.
Kiaran kept wracking his mind for an event that might have triggered such a reaction, but nothing came to him. Their lives had been blessedly quiet since arriving at the commune; their greatest worries were in blending the multiple cultures their members came from, in maintaining their food stores properly, and other such mundane issues. No longer were they balancing the world’s fate on their shoulders, or fighting to break a Shadow Curse, or doing anything that resembled the other traumas Halsin had fought against in his long life.
Unless…
Kiaran frowned suddenly. Could that be it? Maybe Halsin was so used to living one crisis after another that he was unprepared for true peace. Maybe his mind was still experiencing the tumult, even removed from the situation. After all, it wasn’t like the last century had been conducive to healing, and the idyllic calm would give his mind plenty of time to wander to those deep wounds that had never healed, only half-scabbed over.
Kiaran watched Halsin, currently in bear form, curl in on himself in the corner of their hand-built treehouse. It was only a theory, but it was the best lead he had, really. If it turned out to be something else, Kiaran might never figure out what it was unless Halsin volunteered the information himself, and that seemed highly unlikely, if Halsin hadn’t said anything already.
There was no way to find out but by talking to him, Kiaran supposed. He sighed and wandered over to Halsin’s spot, sitting next to the wildshaped cave bear and petting his fur. “Hello, love. Can we talk?” he asked softly. “I… won’t beat around the bush here, sweetheart. I’m worried about you. Very worried.”
Halsin grunted, turning his head. He looked deeply unhappy at Kiaran’s words, and he huffed as he rested his chin on his paws. I am fine.
Kiaran tended to have the Speak With Animals spell enabled so he wouldn’t have to forgo communicating with Halsin while the latter wildshaped. It was a blessing, but hearing the almost dismissive tone combined with the irritation hurt. Halsin never pushed him away like this. They sat and talked through whatever the problem was.
“Love,” Kiaran murmured, stroking Halsin’s cheek-
Only to have Halsin snarl, snapping his jaws in warning. Do not touch me.
Kiaran flinched back, swallowing hard and trying to hide the wounded look that threatened to reveal itself. “I won’t touch you. But if you think this is convincing me that there’s nothing wrong, you are sorely mistaken. You are doing the exact opposite.”
If these were anything close to normal circumstances, Halsin would snap out of it right then. He’d look at Kiaran and apologize for scaring him- not that Kiaran would want that apology, of course, he’d only want to be allowed to help- and then they would talk. Halsin would tell him whatever it was, even if it was hard, and Kiaran would help in any way he could, even if that meant just providing a listening ear.
But instead, Halsin glared out of the corner of his eyes before turning to face away from Kiaran, the dismissal clear.
Kiaran sighed. “Very well. Then how about you listen to me?” He suggested, swallowing. He wiped his palms on his pants. “I can only guess what is happening. You are much worse today, and you woke up badly. Did… did you perhaps have a nightmare?” Halsin rarely slept, but sometimes, he found himself drawn to lazy slumbers in ursine form instead of the meditations of an elf, and last night had been one such night.
Hmph. Halsin grunted, shifting his head. I am no stranger to those. I know how to handle them.
Kiaran winced. “So… it’s safe to say it wasn’t the nightmare, then.” He stared down into his own lap, taking in a shaky breath as he realized he had, truly, done as much as he could. Anything further would only upset Halsin more, and make it less likely for him to speak up later when he finally did feel able. “… I’m here, love, when you want to talk about it. And… I know you’ll be mad at yourself later, so… know that I understand. Please don’t beat yourself up over this, alright? I’ll be in bed. Feel free to join me, if…” The piercing sensation of hot tears in his eyes hit hard, and he wiped at his them, fighting to keep his voice steady. “If you… want to. I understand why you wouldn’t, I-”
And then, just like that, came the horrible thought that maybe that was exactly the problem. Maybe Halsin didn’t want to share a bed with him, or a house. Maybe he was so sullen because he regretted ever getting together with him.
And after all, why wouldn’t he? Murder Incarnate, the Netherbrain had called him. He was stripped of Bhaal’s blood now, yet the fact remained that he had once taken delight in torture and murder, in defiling corpses, in all sorts of vile acts. Maybe now that the fate of the world was secure, Halsin had just enough clarity to realize what utter madness it had been to fall in love with Kiaran, much less to offer him a place in a commune filled with helpless children.
There were an awful lot of orphans here. There was a good chance that Kiaran was the very reason many of them were lacking parents.
The thoughts stung, and yet he couldn’t deny he had done this to himself, if that truly was what was happening. After all the pain he had caused, falling hopelessly in love only to have his partner pull back when realizing the full weight of what they were doing was only a fraction of what he deserved.
He must have made a sound, or maybe the bear could smell the salty tears. Because one second he was staring at Halsin’s back, and the next, the bear had turned, eyes going wide, and a whine of sorrow escaped him.
And there it was. No matter what kind of agony Halsin was in, he was never able to handle Kiaran’s pain, just as Kiaran couldn’t stand Halsin’s. In an instant, it felt like, Kiaran’s senses were filled with bear. Coarse fur against his skin. Little whines interspersed with Oakfather forgive me in his ears. The clean but musky scent of Halsin’s bear form in his nose.
Kiaran wrapped his arms tightly around Halsin’s neck and shuddered, fighting hard not to cry, because damn it all, this wasn’t supposed to be about him. And yet here Halsin was, as he always had been, ready to take on his pain.
I am sorry. Kiaran, I am so sorry, Halsin all but sobbed against him. Kiaran felt the bear tremble against him, matching his own shaking. I- I have behaved abominably. How I’ve treated you these past tendays. It is unforgivable. I am so sorry, please, I shall never again allow myself-
“It’s alright,” Kiaran croaked. “I- I understand, I think. I just-” He took in a shuddery breath. “Y-You aren’t going to leave me, are you? You aren’t unhappy with me?”
Of course not! cried Halsin, shaking his head firmly against him. Never. I am yours, for as long as you will have me. I- I simply- I cannot talk about it. I am sorry. But I promise you it is not that, and I apologize for ever making you think I had fallen out of love with you. I never wanted to hurt you, yet that is precisely what I have done. I am so sorry, my heart. I know no words will ever make this alright again, but…
There he was. There was his bear. Kiaran exhaled slowly, hiding his face in Halsin’s neck and tangling his fingers in his coarse fur. “You’re forgiven, love. I promise. I know you. And I know you would never have done this unless something was truly wrong. I just… I just want to know what that something is, so I might better help you. I don’t like when you are hurting, any more than you do when I am.”
Halsin closed his eyes. For a while, he was so quiet that Kiaran almost wondered if he had fallen asleep pressed against him.
Then came a burst of gold light, almost blinding in the dark of their quiet house nested in the branches of a mighty oak, and Halsin was gathering Kiaran up into his arms. He stroked Kiaran’s hair for a while, steadying himself.
“I,” he finally said, his eyes closed as he rested his chin on the top of Kiaran’s head. “I am afraid that I have not been entirely honest with you, my heart, and so I owe you another apology… but then again, if it makes it any better, I do not believe I was honest with myself, either.”
Kiaran frowned. He looked up at the warm, kind man he was so overjoyed to call his own, and thought about his own past. Whatever it was, it would never change a thing for Kiaran; surely Halsin knew that? Knew that whatever it was, Kiaran would never be able to judge it when compared to his own life?
But this was Halsin, after all, a man who was seemingly incapable of showing himself a fraction of the kindness he gave so readily to others. Halsin truly didn’t realize Kiaran would never condemn him, not even if the confession was a murder in cold blood- and he knew that wasn’t going to be the secret anyway.
“Love,” he whispered, extricating himself just enough to cup Halsin’s cheeks and kiss his nose. “Whatever it is, you need to say it, so that you can be absolved and stop punishing yourself. Whatever it is, you are already forgiven, I assure you.”
Halsin gently worked at a knot in Kiaran’s hair, biting his lip. The most curious thing happened on his face, like a silent war waged against himself; not the kind Kiaran had faced against his Urge, but something deeper. Like two parts of his very being were battling.
But there was a second fight happening at the same time, and that one, Kiaran could see in Halsin’s eyes. This one was something more like a person trapped on a cliff, struggling to pull themselves up and over so they wouldn’t fall. Halsin was fighting for that last bit of control of himself.
But the instant he spoke, that faded away, and he was left adrift, the words spilling out of him like a flash-flooded river. “I never… I never seemed to properly fit in anywhere, before I found you and our companions, Kiaran,” Halsin said quietly, gazing off at the opposite wall without really looking at it. “I was always different. Among the wood elves, among the Druids… I always felt like a cuckoo among warblers. As though I not only did not belong, but I was also taking resources that never belonged to me, through some kind of trickery.” He still stared off into the distance. “Part of it was my size, I suppose, but there was still something else. Some unknown thing that kept us from truly being able to understand one another.”
Kiaran’s heart ached already, but he dared not stop Halsin now. He squeezed the man’s hand to let him know he was still listening, and otherwise did not react.
“But one thing I learned, an invaluable skill, was how to lessen the pain of it all. I stopped caring, for the most part, though some deep part of me always did care regardless. I wrote off what I could to childish nonsense- the taunts, the mockery- even when we were no longer children, and what I could not dismiss…” A sad smile. “I learned to accept it as truth, but flippantly. I would laugh when they pointed out my size, I would make the inevitable jokes before they could, and eventually, when other taunts came into play, I did the same with them.”
It was harder to force himself to remain silent, but Kiaran still did, his hand squeezing Halsin’s yet again. He exhaled when he felt a squeeze back.
“It became my armor, though… it was rather like a set of armor with spikes lining the inside. It hurt me, but less so than a wayward spear.” Halsin sighed. “I learned to use it well, and to ignore the hurts from those spikes, like how a beekeeper might become less affected by stings over time.” His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “I learned not to show fear, or pain, or to cry. I was too big to cry, and I was the leader whose example others looked to; I was not allowed to show fear. Even my inability to control my wildshape was a mark of shame I had to hide. And so I did, and when I could not, I would smile and laugh at the jokes at my expense.”
Another sigh. “It is how I knew no one would care to listen about some of the hardships I had faced. I knew I would be mocked relentlessly for what happened- for who I allowed to overpower me, for the foolish action I had taken in venturing into the Underdark to begin with. And it hurt, but the years flew by, and before I knew it, my time as a captive,” he spat out the word, “was long behind me, and instead, every time I closed my eyes, I saw my predecessor at the Grove, the moment I put his shade to rest with his own dagger. I heard Thaniel’s cries for help. Every night,” Halsin’s voice hitched; his eyes were wet, but the tears stayed confined for the moment, “I had nightmares. I saw those I failed to save, screaming at me for letting them die, vowing vengeance. They would hold me down and- and they would hurt me. Sometimes with weapons. Other times they did to me what… what my h- my cap-” Halsin shuddered, and gulped in a breath. “My captors. What my captors did to me.”
Again, Kiaran stayed silent. This time, however, it was because of the certainty that if he opened his mouth at all, he would vomit.
“And it was a different thing entirely, what they did compared to the taunts of a bully, yet the principle was much the same,” Halsin went on, and this time, when Kiaran squeezed his hand, he felt nothing in return. Halsin was right there, speaking to him, and yet he looked and felt like he was far away. “When I was in the Underdark, my captors always made sure I was complicit in my own breaking, you see. And those pleasures they granted me… I lived for them. Craved them. I could lie, I could say I fought and begged them not to give them to me, but what good would that do? I liked it. I experienced agony beyond words, counterweighted by toe-curling delights. The elves who became their decorations surely could not say such a thing. Astarion certainly can not say the same about Cazador.”
A sharp breath. Kiaran’s vision was blurry, and it took far too long to realize the little sniffle-whimper he heard was not from Halsin. “And that, my heart, is the great lie I have told the both of us. I am no mighty bear at all. I am,” Halsin’s voice wobbled, “nothing more than an escaped pet with a delusion of being something more, of being some kind of great beast at one with the wild itself. But what wild animal misses their chains? Their collar? What kind of bear,” and his voice grew louder, the sheer agony finally spilling over into his words, “what kind of bear misses performing for their masters? I have known many bears. None would ever long for such marks of subjugation, but I? I close my eyes at night after you fall asleep, recalling their voices calling me a good boy, a good pet, and my heart aches with how I miss it. I was a pet, a toy, anything but myself- and, Oakfather forgive me, I yearn for it, as I have for the past hundred years!” He clenched his eyes shut, a tortured expression on his face. “Do you understand now?! No matter how much I try to convince myself, and you, I will never be anything more than what I was for them!”
Kiaran had no chance to answer, to try to reassure Halsin that his mind was playing tricks on him; in an instant, with a furious and tortured bellow, Halsin had pushed Kiaran from his lap. The gold came over his body, and then, with a roar that sounded more like a tiger than a bear, he lurched forward.
Kiaran could only watch as the bear took over, and proceeded to utterly destroy the room. Halsin’s face was twisted in fury, and he made no distinction in manner of destruction, teeth and claws working in concert to tear apart everything in his path. Cloth, leather, and wood fell to the floor, the bear’s roars growing louder as the gnawing began to hurt his teeth and jaw, and yet he seemed unable to stop, mind in a frenzy. In that moment, all the bear knew was his pain and anger, both amplifying each other in a feedback loop, and there was nothing that seemed capable of making the heartrending display stop.
Once more, no words came. Kiaran knew the bear would not understand them.
A half hour later, the bellows turned into pained whimpers and cries, and every time the bear opened his mouth, a mess of red and white revealed itself; Halsin worked his jaw, and spat out two teeth with a whine. It was a small mercy that such an injury wouldn’t carry over to his elf form if they acted quickly.
“Shit,” Kiaran finally was able to say, stepping forward. He knelt a safe distance from Halsin, but enough to be seen. He reached a trembling hand out. “Oh, love… I am sorry. I had no idea you were hurting so deeply,” he whispered. “We will talk about this, but first… I need you to let the bear go.”
The growls hadn’t even contained any words for the Speak With Animals spell to translate. Just the mindless, primal emotions Halsin only seemed able to feel as a bear. He wasn’t sure if he would see any spark of awareness in the other’s eyes, but there seemed to be something, at least, as Halsin lowered his head and whined again.
Kiaran swallowed. “I know, love. I know the bear keeps you safe,” he whispered. “But… can you… c-can you…” He was crying again, damn it all. He had never been like this before he met Halsin, but Halsin had remade the bitter, cruel heart inside him into something soft and tender- at least where Halsin himself was concerned. “Can you please… try to trust me to keep you safe, for a while? We need to heal you up before those injuries become permanent in your bear form. If you can shift, I can use Cure Wounds, and you won’t even feel any of this, besides for maybe some soreness. It’ll probably be soup and yogurt only for a few days, but… that’s another matter.” He held his hand out.
Halsin’s face softened a little, but the pain was still clear. He grimaced as he spoke, words coming out as a low groan. Keep me safe? Help me? Halsin dared to ask in a cautiously hopeful voice as he inched forward, his nose pressing against the palm of Kiaran’s hand.
Kiaran smiled a little, gently stroking his snout. “Yes, love,” he whispered. “I will always, until my dying breath, keep you safe. Just… just let the bear go for a little while, and trust me to care for you. You don’t have to do this alone anymore, sweetheart, I promise, as I did the day you said you loved me. I will…” He stared down, something settling in his heart. “I will take it all away as best I can. All of that pain you’re carrying. If you’ll let me, that is.” He wasn’t just referring to the broken teeth and cut gums, and he thought that maybe Halsin recognized it by the way he closed his eyes for a long while.
Then, with a faint sigh from the bear, the golden light reappeared. Halsin swayed badly, clearly disoriented this time, and Kiaran steadied him in his arms before easing him down, letting Halsin sit in his lap, between Kiaran’s legs, with his back against Kiaran’s chest. “Easy, easy,” he soothed, stroking Halsin’s forehead. “Easy, love. I’ve got you. Just hold on, and try to relax. I’ll get you some tea in just a moment.” He let the magic flow through his body, then murmured the incantation, hands pressing against Halsin’s jaw- earning a groan- and mending what damage the spell could. Then he grabbed Halsin’s hands, repeating the process to repair the cuts and splinters.
“Love?” Halsin’s voice was wobbly, and still disoriented. Like something had broken deep inside him and left him unable to ground himself. “I… I am sorry…”
“Shhh.” Kiaran wrapped his arms around the elf’s shoulders and gently swayed, slow at first, and then gradually becoming a rocking motion. Under other circumstances, Halsin would surely have objected, but now he seemed to welcome it, pressing closer and holding Kiaran’s arms, desperate for that bit of contact. “I’ve got you, my love. None of- of what they did to you will ever happen again.”
Halsin shuddered hard against him. “But, but th-they… they are still…”
Kiaran’s blood ran cold. “… You said the house of your captors was long extinct, love,” he whispered. “You didn’t- oh gods, you didn’t see one of them, did you?”
Halsin hesitated. “No, not them,” he whispered, shivering again. Kiaran wished he had a blanket to drape over his shoulders, but it was in the other room. He settled for massaging Halsin’s bare shoulders as he spoke. “… But… the house that unseated them. Their matriarch’s consort. I saw him.”
“How do you know it was the same man, sweetheart?” Kiaran whispered. “You only saw them the once when you were fleeing, right?”
Halsin shook his head and shuddered. “We were all in their bedchamber when they came. They were about to chain me back to the wall for the night when the other house’s matron and her consort burst in. The consort looked right at me, and tried to kill me, only to be distracted by the matron who held me fighting back. That was when I was able to flee, as the patron joined the fight to defend her, and drew the attention of my would-be assassin.” Halsin looked queasy at the memory. “I saw him last month when we were forced to go to Baldur’s Gate to find the tools to repair the leak in the schoolhouse ceiling. He could- if he recognized me, and if the matron wanted- I could be called their rightful prize for slaying my captors. She could take me back to the Underd-”
Halsin groaned suddenly and leaned over, starting to retch; Kiaran managed to help adjust him just in time so that none of his sick splattered on them or their clothes. Halsin groaned miserably as the bout ended, and Kiaran quickly brought him over to the magic basin they owned, enchanted with a Create Water spell. “Easy, love, easy,” he whispered, grimacing when another bout began. He wet a washcloth they had nearby, and pressed it to Halsin’s neck as another groan escaped the elf.
“I know. I know,” he whispered, stroking Halsin’s cheek. “Hang in there.” When the vomiting was finally over, Halsin weakly leaned over to rinse his mouth, and Kiaran rubbed his back with one arm and wrapped the other around Halsin’s waist to steady him.
“Let’s get you to bed, alright?” He whispered. “Lie down where it’s cool and quiet, and I’ll get you a calming tea.”
Halsin shook his head, looking at Kiaran with haunted eyes. “Please,” he croaked. “Please, do not leave me. You said-”
“-That I would keep you safe. Alright, love. Then lean against me,” Kiaran whispered, his voice far calmer than he felt. “I can see you shaking.” And indeed, he could practically feel the elf’s heart pounding against him. “… My dear, please forgive my bluntness, but how long have you been having panic attacks?”
Halsin groaned miserably, pressing his forehead against the top of Kiaran’s head. “I… had them for a while, after the Shadow Curse,” he whispered. “Then they… they seemed to go away, but so did everything. There was simply fog, and nothing else inside me at all.”
A memory prickled in the back of Kiaran’s brain. “I never quite realized how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove… I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you.”
“… But… I began to feel again, when I met you,” Halsin went on. “Those episodes took far longer to return than the good feelings you returned to me, but when… When I saw him…” A shudder ran down his spine.
“I understand,” Kiaran whispered. “So you’ve been having panic attacks in secret for the past two tendays. And hiding them from me.” There was no judgment in the last sentence, though a great deal of sadness leaked in all the same.
“Yes,” Halsin whispered. "I am sorry. For all of it. For how I treated you. For losing the run of myself twice tonight. I... destroyed our living room, after we worked so hard to build this house together…”
“Shhh.” Kiaran kissed Halsin’s forehead as he poured some water into a pot, which he set over their magical stove- one of the many compromises they had made between Kiaran’s partiality to urban comforts and Halsin’s preference for a more barebones arrangement. “You are forgiven, my love. Always. You were hurting, and you did not harm me.”
“Didn’t I?” Halsin whispered, reaching one hand up to rub his sore jaw. “Just because I did not strike you…”
“… It is alright,” Kiaran murmured again. “I am sorry I did not see this sooner.”
“You did. I saw how you looked at me. I would not allow you to see,” Halsin whispered, adjusting his position and wrapping his arms around Kiaran’s waist. Kiaran wrapped his free arm around Halsin in turn, and then, once the water was on the stove, he wrapped both around him, squeezing tightly. Halsin sighed in pleasure. “Your embrace makes me feel safer than any armor ever could.”
Kiaran smiled a little, and kissed Halsin’s forehead. “Good. Then you shall have it. My arms are yours for the rest of tonight. I-” He looked over, tilted Halsin’s chin up so he would look into Kiaran’s eyes as he repeated back the words Halsin had spoken to him long ago. The first kind words Kiaran could ever remember hearing, and they had come from him, a near-stranger at the time. “I am here to be your ear, as you bear your burdens, and the arms that protect you, if you can shoulder them no more.”
It was a very weak smile that answered him, but it was a smile nonetheless, and that was no small victory in Kiaran’s eyes. Halsin pressed his head against Kiaran, happy to let him share some of the weight, and closed his eyes again. He gave a deep sigh. “I am still sorry, my heart. For all of this…”
“It is alright.” Kiaran rubbed his back, swallowing. “I can only imagine how you must feel.” To have so many horrific wounds torn open again in such a short time, to try to pretend to be his normal self while facing something few could ever begin to understand. If anything, Kiaran was amazed Halsin had limited himself to the one outburst, and it spoke to Halsin’s kind, calm nature that he had. “Truly, love, perhaps I don’t say this enough, but you are one of the strongest people I have ever met. I didn’t want to say it too much, out of fear of… of sounding patronizing. But that is the truth. I am in awe of you, for all you have endured while staying such a good person. So much that you still found it in your heart to take care of me when I was barely more than a mindless murderer.”
“You were much more than that!” Halsin sounded heartbroken as he protested Kiaran’s harsh words. “We could all see that you were fighting the monster inside you, and you succeeded. There is nothing more we could have asked from you.” Halsin looked away. “Whatever my strength, it is nothing compared to yours.”
“I beg to differ, but… in any case, I do not think this particular argument will change anything,” Kiaran sighed, hugging Halsin again and kissing his forehead. “What does matter is this: I love you, endlessly, without exceptions. And there will never come a day when I am not here to care for you the same as you have always taken care of me. Do you understand me, love?”
Halsin swallowed. “I understand,” he whispered, leaning into the hug. “I just... I wish that I could erase the past two weeks, tell my past self what a fool he was being.”
“We all have those moments, whether we’re a 40 year old half-Drow or a 350 year old wood elf,” Kiaran whispered sadly. “What matters is that we do not repeat those mistakes, and I know we will not.”
“No,” Halsin agreed, leaning more heavily against Kiaran. His legs shook violently as the adrenaline in his system began to wear off.
The sight caused Kiaran to make a worried noise as he waited for the water to boil. The sooner he could get Halsin to start resting, the better. “Hold on, sweetheart. Just a few moments,” he whispered.
“I will be alright. I have endured worse,” Halsin murmured, but his voice betrayed no small amount of pain and exhaustion.
Kiaran watched the bubbles slowly flit over the surface of the water, his own thoughts growing increasingly uneasy. Two problems were now before him. He’d have to track down this Drow noble and kill him, he had no doubt about that, and probably his matron as well. They were simply too dangerous to allow anywhere near Halsin, and beyond that, their very existence was going to undo every iota of progress Halsin had made after the war’s end. Kiaran would- right or wrong- trade a hundred lives to preserve Halsin’s sanity. So there was one task in front of him, but one he was well-suited for as a Ranger.
The other problem, the problem with a less clear solution, was Halsin’s mind itself. Kiaran couldn’t allow him to continue to suffer like this. It would tear Halsin apart- and Kiaran too, for that matter- mentally and very likely physically, if tonight was any indication. He would have to think on that, but later, after he convinced his exhausted partner to rest.
He needed for Halsin to rest, at the very least, because there was no doubt that Kiaran would not be sleeping for a single moment tonight, not after what he had seen and heard. One of them, at least, ought to be well-rested come morning, and he’d rather it be Halsin than himself.