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Summary:

Lae'zel was strange. That was one of the few things Shadowheart didn't doubt. So when Lae'zel started being weird and intense, Shadowheart had no reason to think she should read anything in it. And surely Lae'zel wouldn't be coming on to her, right?

Notes:

This fic was written for jellyfishline for Fandom Trumps Hate 2025; thank you very much for the prompt, I had a blast finding ways for the girls to just not talk about things

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Lae'zel was staring at her. Again.

Shadowheart was getting tired of it. For days – or should she count time in weeks now? This tadpole business was taking far too long – Lae'zel had ignored her as much as she could, when she wasn't insulting her or questioning her decisions. It had suited Shadowheart just fine. Fighting all the time was counterproductive, even if tempting. Lae'zel was if nothing else smart enough to realize that.

Now, however, now Shadowheart kept finding Lae'zel's eyes on her. She didn't even have the decency to look away when Shadowheart caught her staring, instead holding her gaze steady, almost daring Shadowheart to look away first.

It had started after their little... accident. The night when Shadowheart had set out to kill Lae'zel in her sleep and would have succeeded in it too, had Wyll not woken up and diffused the situation. Shadowheart would have wondered if Lae'zel was planning something if not for how out of character it would be. If Lae'zel wanted to get back at her, she would just do it. All her warrior honor would never allow her to stab Shadowheart in the back and be done with it.

Besides, her stares weren't strictly malicious. Steel-hard and focused, the way Lae'zel always was, but Shadowheart didn't detect any ill-will in them. No more than usual, that was. It was most like Lae'zel was studying her. What for, Shadowheart couldn't guess, but she doubted it was anything good, and no, it wasn't only Sharran paranoia.

She narrowed her eyes. It was getting late, most of their companions already in their bedrolls. Shadowheart sat by the fire, staying up for first watch. Why Lae'zel was also awake, she didn't know. Lae'zel did some meditation exercises before sleeping, but those usually didn't involve staring at people.

Taking a deep breath, Shadowheart turned back to the fire. Ignore her. She focused on the orange light, on Karlach's tail twitching in sleep at the edges of her vision, on the sounds of breathing coming from her companions. The almost prickling feeling of Lae'zel's gaze could be ignored.

"We never did share that duel."

She hadn't expected Lae'zel to speak, let alone to say such a thing. "Excuse me?"

"We had agreed to share a duel," Lae'zel said, a vague touch of condescension in her voice, "but then you decided getting rid of me the coward's way would have been easier for you."

Shadowheart forced herself to ignore the twist of anger at Lae'zel's insult. "If you mean easier because it would have taken less effort on my part, then yes. If you're implying I wouldn't have been able to hold my own against you, keep dreaming."

Not that Shadowheart had any illusion that it would have been easy to beat Lae'zel. Her skills in battle could not possibly be doubted. She was physically stronger than Shadowheart, faster too. In hand to hand, Shadowheart would stand little chance, even if she had her own training.

But she had magic, and Lae'zel didn't. It was trickling back properly to her, finally slipping past whatever kind of blockage the tadpole had placed. A couple well placed spells might not be enough to do lasting damage to Lae'zel, but they could slow her to the point where Shadowheart's mace could finish the job.

"We do not have to keep wondering."

Smooth and fluid, Lae'zel had stood up. She walked to Shadowheart, and Shadowheart didn't move. Even if her body tensed instinctively at having Lae'zel loom over her, she remained firmly sat on the ground.

"I thought we had agreed to put our differences aside," she said instead.

"We did. I am not looking to kill you, nor to take the Artifact back from you. What I want is the duel you owe me."

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. "That desperate to get your ass kicked?"

A green lip curled. "Your confidence will lead you to an early grave."

"That is my own concern, not yours," Shadowheart replied. "But the answer is still no."

Lae'zel crouched by her. Head tilted, gaze fixed on Shadowheart's face. "Does that not arouse a little curiosity in your mind? To test our strengths against each other, properly, ruthlessly? To prove the strength of your blows against my skin – or perhaps see blood stain mine?"

Shadowheart took a moment to digest the words, before stating, "That is a very weird way to put it."

"Is it?"

"Yes. And no, I'm still not doing that. We're going up these mountains to make you happy, I'm not wasting energy by exchanging blows in the middle of the night."

Who talked about dueling that way even? With the fervor Lae'zel had put in the words, one would have almost thought she was trying to get Shadowheart into her bed.

"Weird," Lae'zel repeated, rolling the word as if pondering its meaning. Her expression had lost that earlier eagerness, replaced with a small frown.

"Yes, most people aren't usually so into the idea of fighting for no reason," Shadowheart said. Or maybe someone like Karlach would, but Shadowheart couldn't see her spinning the proposal in the same near ritualistic way Lae'zel had.

The only reply was a click, a frustrated, "Istik," and Lae'zel going back to her bedroll.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. Gith.

 

***

 

With a grunt, Shadowheart slammed her mace into the back of the gnoll's head. The creature fell. One down, only another six to go. She tapped Wyll's shoulder, quickly patching up a couple scratches, before turning her attention to the remaining howling beasts. Karlach was hacking one up with her axe, Gale was launching fire at a second, which also got an arrow in the neck courtesy of Astarion, and–

"Lae'zel!" Gale shouted, as she ran past all of them and straight in the middle of a group of three.

Karlach cut off her opponent's hand with a broad sweep of her axe. "Get the fuck back here, soldier!"

Lae'zel didn't listen. Lae'zel, raised in her stupid shitty military culture, didn't pay any attention to things like strategy and being outnumbered, and managed to cut one of the gnolls while another's sword by some miracle bounced off her armor and not straight into an arm.

"I will kill her myself," Shadowheart hissed, and took off in her direction. Shar knew how many wounds Lae'zel was going to accumulate in the few heartbeats it would take Shadowheart to reach her. Did she not have a shred of survival instinct?

A quick bolt of divine light was enough to momentarily push back a gnoll, giving Lae'zel freedom to dispatch of the one closest to her. That didn't mean she didn't also get stabbed in a shoulder. With a wild githyanki curse, she turned her attention on the offending enemy.

Shadowheart made the same gnoll as before stagger for a second time, a second bolt hitting it in the muzzle. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Killing this thing," Lae'zel growled, parrying an attack.

"On your own?"

"Yes!"

The gith was going to die young, no way around it. Unfortunately, Shadowheart currently had an interest in keeping her alive for a little longer. She focused on the gnoll closest to her, stopping an attack with her shield and using her mace to keep it at bay.

Lae'zel made some kind of animalistic sound. Shadowheart turned, and found an arrow sticking into her left arm.

"The fucking archer!" Shadowheart screamed. She couldn't see it, but one of the others should take care of it before it became too much of a nuisance.

Healing would be wasted on Lae'zel with the arrow still in her. Luckily, it didn't seem to be holding her back. She gutted the gnoll closest to her – a gruesome scene that ended with the gnoll's blood spraying on Shadowheart's legs, damn the gith – and snarled insults at the next one. Adrenaline must be numbing her pain for the moment.

A second arrow reached Shadowheart, luckily getting stuck in her armor. "Get rid of that archer already!"

She didn't stop to check whether someone was listening. There were other problems to take care of here, like a gnoll very close to her trying to chew off a piece of her. Swearing, she put all her focus on keeping her skin intact.

No more arrows came, so she assumed the problem had either been fixed or redirected. The enemies fell, between Shadowheart's magic and Lae'zel's sword, and finally Shadowheart breathed in and was able to turn to Lae'zel.

"Show me that," she said.

Lae'zel glanced at the arrow still buried in her, and then offered Shadowheart a wild grin. "Our enemies knew they could not hold their own without an archer's back up."

"Clearly. Does it hurt?"

"It is an arrow, it feels like one," Lae'zel replied. "But the pain is bearable. Not enough to hamper my ability to fight."

"I noticed." Shadowheart glanced around. Karlach was busy plummeting the last remaining gnoll, Astarion already rifling through pockets. "Come on, let me get that out of you."

Slowly, Lae'zel offered Shadowheart her arm. She didn't move like someone who had to be in a very significant amount of pain. Rather, the motion felt deliberate. As if she wanted to make sure Shadowheart saw it well.

"This will hurt," Shadowheart warned.

"I'm aware."

Luckily, the arrow wasn't lodged too deeply. Shadowheart was getting all too familiar with the process of getting one out of someone's body. At this point, she didn't even bother with warnings.

Lae'zel's only complaint was a grunt and a slight grimace. She stood on her feet, almost still, as Shadowheart murmured the incantation, letting healing magic knit the wound together before too much blood spilled. Shadowheart had to admit it, the stoicism was helpful. Last time she had had to rip out an arrow Gale had fainted right there and then.

"It will be sore for a while, but it should be fine," she declared, cutting the flow of magic off.

"It will do," Lae'zel replied. "Pain does not slow me."

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. "I know, Lae'zel, I was watching you. Praise githyanki training and all of that."

Lae'zel rolled her shoulder, head tilted sideways. "Not all githyanki are made the same. I've met more than one who would be left unable to use their arm by that wound, minor as it may be."

With a hum, Shadowheart poked one of the weapons fallen from the gnolls' hands. Rusty, bad quality from what she could tell. "How lucky we are to have you, then."

"You are," Lae'zel said, either missing or ignoring the sarcasm. "No pain or fatigue will slow me on my path to victory."

"Or to death."

"That is not an option."

Shadowheart raised her eyes. Was Lae'zel bragging or something? She had her gaze fixed on Shadowheart's face, a half grin still baring all her pointy teeth. "Is it so important to you that I recognize your pain tolerance and prowess in battle right now?"

"Perhaps I do want you to be aware of it," Lae'zel said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure." Was Shadowheart ever going to be able to spend a whole day without Lae'zel trying to assert her dominance in some way?

"Although your assistance was appreciated."

"Do you also have a head wound you're hiding from me?" Shadowheart asked. She wouldn't deny that a little gratitude pleased her, but from Lae'zel? Perhaps there was some fast acting poison in that arrow.

"My head is fine."

"If you say so. Anyways, o mighty warrior, mind helping me out here? I doubt these guys will have anything too useful in their pockets, but you never know."

Lae'zel's face scrunched up in an expression of annoyance. This time Shadowheart did not roll her eyes, but it was a very close thing. Sooner or later Lae'zel would have to learn they didn't have time to inflate her soldier ego.

 

***

 

The water was a touch too cold for Shadowheart's tastes, but it was clean and that was all that mattered to her. A small mountain lake, not stagnant, fed by a stream and left by another, and small and shallow enough for Shadowheart to feel confident she wouldn't risk drowning. So long as she stayed at the shore, it would be fine.

It was good that the water was moving, because otherwise she may turn the whole lake muddy brown from the dirt on her. They hadn't had many chances to bathe recently. After the disaster with the githyanki créche they had been traveling as fast as possible, trying to put distance between themselves and any leftover githyanki forces that might notice the destruction. No time for anything but quick rinses in some river.

But now they had this lake just outside the campsite. Wyll, ever the gentleman, had insisted the others go first. Karlach had also insisted the others go first, because water had a tendency to sizzle and explode when in contact with her. Shadowheart hadn't waited to hear the opinions of the other ones. She had wanted that bath.

She methodically set to scrub some of the more persistent stains from her skin. Mud around her feet. Dried blood on her arm – whose and when had it gotten there, she didn't know. Disgusting. She'd give up all her remaining memories for a proper bathtub, with fancy soap and scented oils.

Of course, her solitude didn't last long. She didn't turn, nor was she called, but the back of her neck prickled with awareness of someone else behind her. A presence that moved, approaching the lake from the side. In the corner of her eyes, Shadowheart made out green skin.

Lae'zel had been off since the créche. Who could blame her, her whole life had been crashing down on her. For all that part of Shadowheart itched to say she had told Lae'zel going to the créche was a bad idea, she kept her barbs to herself. Losing trust in one's goddess-queen had to be hard. Enough for even Shadowheart to mind her tongue about it.

Lae'zel hadn't really said much, after a couple initial, dramatic outbursts. She trained, and fought, and threw looks of disgust at people for daring to breathe near her, which Shadowheart supposed were all good signs.

"Here for a bath?" Shadowheart asked.

"Obviously," Lae'zel replied. Her fingers were already working to undo the fastenings of her armor.

Shadowheart turned away. She continued washing herself, now less because of the need for it and more for the pleasure of feeling fully clean. Goosebumps had broken out on her skin, but she was getting used to the temperature. It could be religious, almost, the way her body slowly submitted to the harsh treatment, until it came to find relief in the it.

There were a couple splashing noises, and then a rippling wave. Shadowheart glanced to the side, finding that Lae'zel had stepped into the lake and let herself sink fully under the water. No signs of discomfort, but when did she ever let them show?

She wondered if Lae'zel knew how to swim. There was no hesitation as she moved to the deeper parts of the lake, water quickly raising to reach her chest. Then again, if Shadowheart remembered right, Lae'zel said she had grown up in Wildspace. Who knew how much water was out there.

Lae'zel dropped down, disappearing into the water. A few heartbeats later, she pushed back out, head tilted back to avoid her hair sticking to her face. She had undone her braids, Shadowheart noticed. The sun hit Lae'zel from its low angle in the sky, making her wet hair shine as scarlet as the sunset clouds.

Shadowheart turned away, focusing back on her own scrubbing. Despite the freezing water, she had begun to feel warm.

She was thinking it was about time to dress up again when Lae'zel asked, "How did you injure your arm?"

"My arm?" Shadowheart looked down at herself, turning her arms. "I'm not injured."

Lae'zel had moved closer. She was crouching in shallower waters, rubbing her shoulder almost absently, her eyes on Shadowheart. "The scar on your forearm. How did you get it?"

"Oh." Truth be told, Shadowheart had no idea. It looked like the mark of a blade, starting below the elbow and running the length of one palm. A battle injury, perhaps, that for some reason hadn't been magically healed. "That's private information, I fear."

"You always play mysterious, Sharran," Lae'zel said. "It loses its charm fast."

Shadowheart grinned at her. "You think I'm charming?"

The only reply was an eye roll.

After a moment, Lae'zel walked so that she was mostly out of the water. It left her nudity fully bared to Shadowheart, and Shadowheart found herself uncomfortably flushing at it. Not that she had never seen another woman naked, but there was something shameless about Lae'zel's countenance.

Turning to the side, Lae'zel pointed at a thin mark on her ribcage. "This, it was my first injury after I was allowed to leave the créche. A blade that was lucky to find its mark. I decapitated my enemy for their troubles."

"Right," Shadowheart said.

"And this," Lae'zel continued, pointing to a patch of paler skin on her side, "was a burn from a ghaik weapon. It caused me to stumble, but a fellow soldier cut the ghaik's hand, and I was the one to drive my sword into its guts."

Shadowheart frowned. "Are you trying to do some kind of scar story exchange?"

"A most brilliant observation."

Maybe Shadowheart should throw a rock at her.

Lae'zel was looking at her almost expectantly. If this was Shadowheart's turn, then Lae'zel might be disappointed. Regardless of Shadowheart's desire to share anything with her, the few scars on Shadowheart's body were a mystery to her. She wasn't interested in making up a lie. Nor did she want to admit to the extent of her amnesia, even if part of her knew there was no shame in Lady Shar's bliss.

Instead, she pointed at Lae'zel's right shoulder, where another white line marked green skin. "And what about that?"

Lae'zel traced the scar in question with her thumb. She show Shadowheart a wry smile before glancing at the old injury. "A training mishap from my younger years. My guard was inadequate and my manner too arrogant, and the varsh set me straight. I bled throughout the rest of the training session before being allowed to visit the infirmary."

"Your tutors sound brutal."

"A whetstone is also brutal, if you are a blade. I was sharpened as I had to."

That might be. Vaguely, Shadowheart was also aware that her own tutors could have been considered brutal in their own way. There was no memory to go with the knowledge, only a bone deep certainty. Only the sharpest of daggers, to be buried in the back of Lady Shar's enemies.

Her eyes lowered at the thought. They slipped over the planes of Lae'zel's stomach, and when Shadowheart refocused on the here and now she found she was looking at her hipbone. All of Lae'zel was sharp, thin. Even at her waist there was little softness if one were to grab her – which Shadowheart had noticed because Astarion had once ranked all their companions' asses with detailed explanations of each one's position in the list, and Lae'zel had been second to last after Gale. It wasn't as if she had given much thought to putting her hands on Lae'zel herself. Non-violently, at least.

Clearing her throat, she nodded in the general direction of Lae'zel's thigh and the round scar marking it. "And that?"

"Ah." At that, Lae'zel hesitated. "A mistake of youth. Nothing to say beyond that."

Shadowheart's gaze snapped back to Lae'zel's face. "Is that so?"

"I would not lie."

"No, just omit. An embarrassing tale, I gather."

Lae'zel made some kind of noise, rolling her eyes. "Nothing worth remembering."

Shadowheart chuckled. "Wouldn't want to let anyone know you too have been a clumsy child once."

It was getting a little too chilly for her. She walked out of the water and towards his clothes. If the sun didn't dry her out, she may have to summon some fire to do the job.

"You still have shared no stories of your own," Lae'zel said.

"I'm a private woman."

"Pity. Your marks are most pleasing."

Shadowheart turned back to her, one eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?"

"You have few scars, but they are not unpleasant a sight," Lae'zel said. She was raking her eyes down Shadowheart's body in a way that, in a different occasion, Shadowheart might have found rather forward. "It would be an honor to add my own."

For a moment, Shadowheart had a vision of Lae'zel holding a whip, looking down at her naked form, dressed only in her strange githyanki leather harness. She quickly dismissed it, together with the not unpleasant heat that coiled in her belly. No way Lae'zel had meant what her low voice had implied. Most likely she was fantasizing about some kind of ritual duel again.

"You really had to go and say something weird, didn't you," Shadowheart said, turning to her clothes.

"I found it a most appropriate thing to say."

"Of course you would."

Behind her, there was a muttered curse, followed by the sound of splashing water. Like someone had gone into the lake to sulk. Shadowheart quickly dressed herself, even if droplets still clung to her skin. She covered her body and all of her scars, blemishes she normally didn't think about but now felt like lines of fire.

She would not get inappropriate thoughts about Lae'zel. It was a recipe for disaster. They might be less antagonistic now, but she still wanted to bash Lae'zel's head in on a regular basis. Chances were that githyanki sex was some wild, violent affair. Not that Shadowheart was entirely opposed to that, but it would not be conductive to surviving long enough to get the tadpole out of their brains.

Besides, Lae'zel could be incredibly unsubtle when it came to asking for sex. Shadowheart had overheard it happen and she'd been embarrassed for her. So, regardless of how interested her eyes had looked, there had to be some other reason for her sudden talkativeness.

"I'm going back to camp," Shadowheart said, fastening the last laces.

The only signal she had been heard was a watery grunt.

 

***

 

Shadowheart knelt, staring up at the sky. Pure blackness stared back. The darkness of the Shadowlands was all-encompassing, hiding even the tops of the highest trees from her sight. On instinct alone she kept looking for the stars, but none of them blinked down at her.

Never had she been so close to Lady Shar before. A shameful corner of her heart still surged in fear, but she silenced it. Even if the shadows had not been summoned by the Lady herself, even if her power was being abused, it was hers nonetheless. Shadowheart breathed in deep, and tried to let herself be at peace. Encompassed by the quiet, the darkness, the nothing, as had been the meaning of her life.

"You should sleep."

She didn't turn. "You should, maybe."

"I have slept much already," Lae'zel said, coming to stand besides her. "I can take over the watch."

"Don't act as if you are not afraid to be alone in the dark."

"Tchk. A githyanki warrior fears no shadow."

With that, she knelt besides Shadowheart, as if to prove her point. Shadowheart found her lips twitching. She knew full well Lae'zel was scared, she could see it in the rigid way she moved, the short distance she always kept between herself and a light source. Fear was justified, for her. This curse was dangerous, to anyone but Lady Shar's devouts.

After a moment, Lae'zel spoke. "Do you find beauty in this blackness?"

"There is nothing more beautiful than the blackness itself. You do not, I assume."

"I find beauty in steel and leather, in dragon scales and spilled blood. This void does not move me."

"Of course," Shadowheart said. "You're a warrior after all. I have lived my life in search of perfect, still darkness and pure loss. This is twisted, but... it comes from my Lady. Even that wretch is hidden from sight."

"The moon?" Lae'zel asked after a moment.

Shadowheart hummed. It felt blasphemous to even mention her by name here, where she was at last absent. Her light had not reached this land for centuries.

"Do all your people hate Selûne so?"

Shadowheart turned to face Lae'zel. The light of the campfire behind them cast strange shapes on her features. "Of course we do. She is Shar's eternal enemy, her followers fill people's heads with lies. You should count yourself lucky if your people do not worship her."

Granted, Vlaakith was horrible in her own way, but Shadowheart didn't have reason to loathe her in the way she loathed Selûne.

"We do not," Lae'zel said.

"But?" Shadowheart asked, sensing something had been left unsaid.

Lae'zel looked down, and then smiled as if to herself. "What is the name that you have given, to the trail of lights you see behind the moon?"

"Selûne's Tears?"

"They are not tears. Each of them is an asteroid, some barely a speck of dust, some larger than a mountain."

"And?"

"Créche K'liir is on one of those asteroids."

Shadowheart's eyebrows climbed up. "You were born on Selûne's Tears?"

"Yes."

There was no helping the laughter bubbling out of Shadowheart. "Seriously? You are a child of Selûne?"

"I am a child of Gith, and no one else's."

"Yes, yes." Shadowheart waved a hand. "But... wow. Please tell me there aren't githyanki on the moon itself too."

"I am not aware of any créche there, but I cannot be certain."

A githyanki créche on Faerûn had already been a terrifying experience. Shadowheart did not want to even imagine one build on the fucking moon.

She grinned at Lae'zel. "Well, maybe that's why we've been fighting since the first day. We might be fated enemies, destined to eternal strife."

"Is that what you wish for us to be?"

Shadowheart blinked, her smile faltering. Her words had been spoken in jest, but the question was heavy, spoken with all the seriousness Lae'zel put in everything.

"Fated enemies?" Shadowheart repeated.

"Do you want us to fight each other, endlessly, tirelessly, to batter each other with bruises and dirt the ground with spilled blood? For your goddess, or for whatever other reason your mind may conjure?"

"Lae'zel," Shadowheart started. Her voice had come out gentler than she had expected, but she couldn't find it in herself to be self-conscious. "We have had... many differences. More than can be counted. You might have been born under Selûne's light, but you certainly aren't one of her worshipers. And for all the faults you may have, I don't actually wish you harm. You're... I appreciate your presence, even if you irk me to no end. It would be dumb to have spent all that time arguing about letting me heal your wounds only for me to make more."

She had hoped to add some lightness with the last sentence, but Lae'zel didn't look amused. Emotions passed across her face – disappointment, most of all. Hurt, even. Shadowheart repeated the words inside her mind, trying to figure out which might have come off as offensive.

Abruptly, Lae'zel stood. "I will let you commune with your goddess."

"Lae'zel, what..."

She stalked off, returning to the place she had set her bedroll. With no explanation, Shadowheart was left gaping, trying to piece together what had happened. All the times she had openly insulted Lae'zel had never resulted in this reaction.

Was she supposed to say yes? That she wanted to be Lae'zel enemy? Why? She thought the two of them had been... not friends, exactly, but they had been heading somewhere. There was care blooming among all the frustration, on Shadowheart's part. Certainly not hatred.

Guilt settled in her stomach, but for what, she had no idea. Surely Lae'zel hadn't been hoping that Shadowheart would say she wanted to tear Lae'zel to shreds for the crime of her egg having been deposited somewhere distasteful.

She tried returning to her meditation, but her focus had been broken, and the shadows didn't offer an answer.

 

***

 

Reithwin was a wretch of a town. However, as Astarion had gleefully pointed out as soon as they had reached it, there could be so much left for them to plunder. Shadowheart was a little less gold oriented, but she hadn't been able to deny it.

That didn't mean she was happy to be here. They had found a madwoman dressed in gold and man bursting at the seams from alcohol alone, Shadowheart was not looking forward to whatever else they may run into. Hard to imagine this had once been a happy town. Her skin crawled, the malevolence of this place almost a physical ooze on her body.

Better here than Last Light Inn, she told herself. They were well away from that Selûnite, and that was all she would ask for. Even if her magic still stuck to them. How humiliating, that Shadowheart could not offer protection to her companions from the curse and a Selûnite could.

"Woah!"

Shadowheart jumped, magic already welling up, when she heard the noise of metal clanging. However, it was nothing to worry about. Astarion and Gale stood by the closet Astarion had just finished picking open, looking down at a bunch of weapons that had fallen out of it.

"Terrible storage space organization," Gale said.

"Did it all just fall down?" Karlach asked.

"Feels like someone crammed this all in and closed it. Never seen anyone do it with weapons before."

Karlach was already kneeling, pushing the weapons around. "Might as well check for something good."

With a sigh, Shadowheart turned, looking out the window of the building they were exploring. They had better things to do than this. She wasn't even sure what, but there had to be something out there. Somewhere. She was certain of it. Shar had to be watching, she must be the one who kept turning Shadowheart's gaze to the north.

"You."

Shadowheart turned, glaring. Lae'zel had gone back to barely addressing her as of late. Whatever was wrong with her now, Shadowheart didn't and didn't want to know. "Talking to me?"

"I am." Lae'zel rose her hand. She was holding a mace, probably picked from the pile. "Take this."

"Pardon?"

"Your weapon is in a pitiful state. This is adequate."

Slowly, Shadowheart broke eye contact and examined the mace. It did look good, she had to admit. Surprisingly good condition for something that had been abandoned in a closet for who knows how long. Lightly enchanted, she realized, reaching for it.

Well, whatever. She took it from Lae'zel and studied its weight. Not bad, slightly heavier than the one she had now, but not to the point of being unable to swing it. It would be best to know what magic lingered on it before use, though.

"Thanks," she said, and nodded to Lae'zel.

Lae'zel stared at her, unblinking, for a few heartbeats. Almost long enough for Shadowheart to ask if she needed something. Before she could, Lae'zel made a strange grunting noise, and stalked off to the other side of the room.

Shadowheart really would never understand her. Whatever. It was not her job to study the emotional depths of the githyanki race. She was meant to serve Shar, and Shar had no use for anyone's feelings.

 

***

 

The air that caressed Shadowheart's face was fresh, carrying the scents of the forest, and none of the oppressive smell that had clung to the Shadowlands, like a room that had been left closed for too long. It was so much lighter in her lungs. Dusk painted their surroundings in gold and red, reassuring them it was safe to stray from the fire.

Shadowheart should not find it such a relief. Nor should she have spared Dame Aylin, for that matter. Guilt warred with fear, anxiety for Shar's vengeance mixed with the the shame of having betrayed everything she had ever stood for.

She could sense it in the others' eyes that they thought she had done the right thing. Wyll, Gale, Karlach, they had been polite towards her faith but had never had any love for Shar. Astarion claimed to feel the same amount of disdain towards every god, but he had been unusually nice towards her – if one's definition of nice was leaving around wine bottles stolen from gods knew where. And Lae'zel...

Lae'zel had been leaving her alone, for the most part. There had been few words or even insults between them lately. Shadowheart shouldn't be missing it. She had enough to deal with without the sourest creature currently on Faerûn bothering her.

And yet. She found herself glancing at Lae'zel over and over, as they walked, as they made camp. Never for long, she didn't want to get caught. Her attention kept being drawn to her, looking for a... distraction? A pointless fight about something inconsequential, just so she wouldn't think of Shar for a few moments?

Better to keep herself busy in ways that didn't involve gazing at Lae'zel like a tween with a crush. Like putting up her tent for the night. Throwing Scratch's ball a few times. Volunteer to go gather some wood for the fire. As much as she didn't want to be alone right now, scouring the ground for something dry enough to burn kept her mind from wandering too much.

Being able to walk in the woods without a tree trying to murder her was nice to say the least. Now that she was away, she could admit that the Shadowlands had unnerved her far beyond what she had been letting on. It wasn't a matter of Shar's magic being twisted for some heretic ideal, but the darkness itself, the choking blackness pressing down on everything. She had longed for this, the healthy vegetation and chittering animals and the light.

It terrified her. How was she supposed to defy Shar when Shar's will was all she was allowed to remember?

She picked up some twigs, placing them in the growing pile in her arms. This should be enough to get a good campfire going, but she should look for a little more just in case. No matter how many magic users they had, they weren't staying up all night to keep a spell going.

Silver entered her field of visions when she stood up. Shadowheart flinched, almost dropping the wood.

"Lae'zel!" she gasped. "Don't sneak up on people like that!"

"Don't lose track of your surroundings," Lae'zel replied.

Shadowheart took a deep breath, calming herself down. "Is something the matter?

Lae'zel stared at her, a frown pulling her brows together. "What are your plans, once we reach Baldur's Gate?"

"My plans? Well, dealing with the remaining Dead Three chosen and getting rid of this thing in my head, for starters. Thought that's what we were all doing."

"Will you look for your cloister?"

Shadowheart hesitated. "Maybe. What is it to you?"

Scoffing, Lae'zel crossed her arms. "What are the chances they will come for you, whether you want it or not?"

"They..." She stopped, finding herself unsure of the answer. How could she say for certain, when she only had vague impressions of her Sharran family? "They will likely be looking for the Prism. If they sent me to retrieve it, they must expect it back. Besides," she tried to project a confidence she didn't feel, "I do have a few things to ask of them, so I suppose it will be convenient if they show up on their own."

"And they will be unhappy with you."

"Brilliant deduction."

Lae'zel tilted her head. Shadowheart didn't squirm under her gaze, but it was a near thing. "Then I will lend you a hand, if the enemies prove too many."

Shadowheart's throat constricted. No one but her had business with the cloister, least of all Lae'zel, but she offered her aid as if it was a given. Out of all her companions, perhaps she was the one Shadowheart would want at her side the most, with her blade and fearlessness and unwavering loyalty. "Thank you, Lae'zel."

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Lae'zel nodded. Stray sun rays pierced through the branches and hit her armor, and the light reflexes were painful to Shadowheart's eyes. Enough for her to want to look away.

"Anyways," she said, turning back to the forest floor, "hopefully things can be solved peacefully. If they cannot, what are they going to do? Take us all on? We have a powerful wizard, a warrior from the Hells, a– Lae'zel?"

For no apparent reason, Lae'zel had let out a guttural hiss. She was looking up at the trees now, her frown turned into a deep scowl.

"What did you get offended about now?" Shadowheart asked, sighing. Why couldn't they ever have a normal conversation?

"This is below me," Lae'zel snapped.

With no context whatsoever, all Shadowheart managed to say was, "If by 'this' you mean me I'd be happy to show you otherwise."

Cursing, Lae'zel stalked off in the direction of camp. Shadowheart was left watching her back, baffled. After all this time, she still couldn't tell what went on in that angry green head. Sometimes it was almost endearing, the way Lae'zel would have opinions on the strangest things, but sometimes it only left Shadowheart reeling.

After a while, Shadowheart decided she had been out here enough and went back with her armfuls of wood. Lae'zel was sitting in a corner, sharpening a knife. She didn't look up. There was something furious about the way she worked on the blade.

"Shadowheart!"

She blinked, wrenching her eyes from Lae'zel and turning to the others. Karlach was in her underwear, which Shadowheart wasn't going to complain about, but she also wasn't sure why. Or why Wyll was handing her a bottle of oil while trying not to laugh.

"We're going to fry an egg on my engine, wanna see?"

Oh yeah. Sure. Use the barely functional infernal device to cook an egg, what a mature and practical idea.

Lae'zel was still sulking in her corner, and Shadowheart decided there was no reason not to focus her attention on Karlach rubbing cooking oil on her chest.

 

***

 

Baldur's Gate was chaotic. Of course it was, there was nothing else a large city with a massive refugee influx would ever be. In this environment, full of people of every background and walk of life mixing and mingling and filling every streets, Shadowheart's stress levels were at an all time high. Her cloister could hide anywhere. She may run into any member of her old family and not know it.

She wasn't the only one on edge. Astarion was tragically failing at disguising his anxiety at being back in Cazador's hunting grounds. Wyll had been in a bad mood ever since those guards had laughed in his face at his assertion that he was Duke Ravengaard's long lost son. Halsin clearly detested the city as a whole.

However, some other people were having fun. People who either didn't have history with the city's dark underbelly, or simply refused to let it get to them.

"Aw, wouldn't you look at that," Karlach said.

A pair of newlyweds who had clearly just left a temple, giggling while their guests took them around the city while cheering and drinking. Adorable, Shadowheart supposed. The party made her skin crawl. Festive weddings weren't Shar's style, but the chaos was perfect for someone to move without drawing attention.

She sat on the edge of a fountain, watching the scene with wariness. Astarion and Gale were trying to replenish some supplies at a local store – as legally as possible, as Wyll had insisted – and the rest of the group was taking a break. Shadowheart kept to herself, trying not to get drawn into too many conversations. A lapse in attention could spell disaster.

"Been way too long since I got to attend a wedding party," Wyll was saying. "Although most of the ones I went to were held for this noble or that counselor. It was a lot less carefree than these people."

"Let me guess, big halls and a whole lot of stuffy clothing?"

"You know it."

"What is it that is happening?" Lae'zel asked. She had been more irritated than usual ever since reaching Baldur's Gate. All these istik customs and chaos had to be getting on her nerves.

"They're celebrating their marriage," Wyll said. "Do githyanki not celebrate weddings?"

"We only celebrate a victorious battle, and we do not have weddings."

Shadowheart watched as two people, who looked related to one of the brides, picked her up and set her on their shoulders as she shrieked in laughter. The group was starting to move, heading to a road leading out of the square. The sooner they would take their happiness and noise away, the safer Shadowheart would feel.

"So what do githyanki have?" Karlach asked. "Like, if you don't have weddings. What do couples do?"

Lae'zel's dismissive hiss was drowned by the city's sounds, but Shadowheart was certain it was there. "Nothing so needlessly public, for sure. One's zhak vo'n'ash duj will be acknowledged as fitting of a fellow warrior, there is no need for such obnoxious displays of affection."

"Sorry, one's what?"

"Zhak vo'n'ash duj," Lae'zel repeated. "The source of one's bruises."

"So your idea of romance is beating each other up?"

Lae'zel clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Nothing so reductive. Your zhak vo'n'ash duj is someone you have deemed your equal, whose skills will aid you in battle but also push you to improve yourself. For your own sake, and to be worthy of them."

"Kin of like a brother in arms then?" Karlach said.

"I do not know what you speak of."

It was Wyll's turn to ask questions. "Forgive me my curiosity, Lae'zel, but how would you make your intentions known to your... To the source of your bruises. I don't suppose your people are fond of flowers and dances."

"Are you asking me how to court a githyanki, warlock?" Lae'zel replied, unimpressed.

"Just curious, that is all. You're seeing how our people approach romance, it can be a cultural exchange."

"I am seeing it and I am not impressed," Lae'zel said. Shadowheart could hear the eyeroll in her voice. "We are not interested in your pointless dancing. To prove oneself, one must show they are worthy. Display one's prowess in battle, one's strength, one's endurance, but also one's willingness to dedicate themselves to one's zhak vo'n'ash duj. Show them that you can handle the bruises they will leave on your skin and wear them with pride."

Shadowheart's gaze remained on the streets, but her eyes unfocused, no longer examining each shadow. Her mind had strayed. Lae'zel's words were not exactly surprising, in fact, they were quite in line with what Shadowheart might have guessed about githyanki romance. However, they were digging something not unlike a pit in her stomach.

There had been Lae'zel, pledging herself to the cause of hunting Shadowheart's cloister for her not two weeks past, suddenly turning angry when Shadowheart had mentioned the others' strengths. Or showing off her scars like a proud peacock, bragging about the battles she won. Or being strangely dejected when Shadowheart said she didn't wish to duel her. No one could deny that she and Shadowheart had learnt to work together in a fight, a well oiled machine by now, covering each other's weak points, but also pushing each other to improve.

"Doesn't sound too bad, honestly," Karlach said. "If what you gotta do is kill things well, I'd dare say that's a whole lot easier than our courting. Still, weddings are nice. Pity you don't have any kind of make it official ritual."

After a moment, Lae'zel replied, "We make it official through a duel. To truly test the skill of the other."

"Ah. Figures. Is it like a fancy thing or just a good ol' backyard brawl?"

"I've said enough."

A deep sourness had colored Lae'zel's last few words. One Shadowheart had learnt to recognize as a personal kind of anger, not general frustration with the world at large. The sort that sneaked into her voice sometimes when dwelling too much about Vlaakith. On someone else, Shadowheart may even call it hurt.

She shifted on her feet and hoped no one would notice it, too busy with their own chatting to pay her any mind. The morning air was uncomfortable all of a sudden, and not because of the distant sewage smell. A thought was making space for itself in her head. One she didn't like or care to examine, but couldn't ignore either.

There was no way she had... misunderstood, right? All those times when Lae'zel was being weird, wasn't she just Lae'zel being weird? When Shadowheart had felt Lae'zel might be coming onto her and told herself it couldn't be, had she... missed something?

Her hands clenched on her crossed arms. That didn't matter. This line of thought wasn't productive, and she couldn't afford to not be productive right now. There were too many things going on to concern herself with feelings and Lae'zel and whatever rituals githyanki had. Her priority was the cloister. And after that the Netherbrain, the two Chosen still causing trouble, the tadpole in her brain, a bunch of vampires, and whether they'd have more than old potatoes and wine for dinner.

Lae'zel didn't matter. Not that much. Or at least, not right now.

 

***

 

Night had always been Shadowheart's element. Darkness wrapping around her like a cloak, safe, comforting, hiding all the ugly the world had to offer. She had been as at ease, if not more, than under the harshness of light.

But now she was finding that maybe some light was not so bad. Not the blinding brilliance of the sun, but something a little kinder. Softer. Just enough for her not to stumble on her own feet.

She walked out of camp quietly. Selûne was in her waning phase tonight, half a circle hanging in the sky, the Tears glistening not far behind. Shadowheart moved through narrow alleys, the buildings occasionally blocking out the moon from sight, aiming for a small garden she had noticed earlier in the day.

It was only days ago that the silver of her hair would have filled her with anxiety, the color reflecting too much light for her to hide in the shadows. But she had... well, not nothing to fear, but certainly less than she used to. The Sharrans had scattered. Even Shar herself did not seem so dangerous, not when Selûne embraced her and Selûne's own daughter was among their allies.

How utterly bizarre, to not be scared of one's own deity. All gods were dangerous in their own way, Selûne included, but to worship Shar meant accepting the pain she could and would inflict at her every whim. Shadowheart didn't know how to worship without a looming threat at her back.

She turned a corner, finding the garden she remembered. It was technically fenced in and closed for the night, but the fence was easy to climb and there were no guards around. Most importantly, the area was quiet. Shadowheart would rather have solitude and silence, not out of secrecy but as a way to get herself re-acquainted with Selûne at her own pace.

However, it seemed she wasn't the only one who had seen this place and thought it was a perfect spot for some nocturnal meditation.

"Why, hello," she greeted, finding Lae'zel kneeling by an aspen tree.

"What are you doing here?" Lae'zel asked, blunt as always. She was dressed in her leathers alone. It was always remarkable how much smaller she looked without the steel, even if githyanki armor was not all that bulky.

"Going for a walk. What about you?"

"I was hoping to meditate in peace for once."

Shadowheart approached her. "Everyone is asleep at camp."

Lae'zel raised an eyebrow at her. "The wizard and the druid snore, and the other Selûnite and her lover are hardly as quiet as they think they are."

Shadowheart swallowed. She was still not used to being referred to as one of the Selunites. Or, the main Selûnite, if Isobel was the other.

"May I sit by you? I was also hoping to meditate, and it's probably wiser to move around in pairs."

The words came out before she had even finished thinking them, despite company having been the last thing she had been looking for tonight. Warmth spread across her cheeks. Hopefully the light was too dim for Lae'zel to make it out.

Lae'zel merely tilted her head. "If you wish. My exercises will not last long, anyways."

Shadowheart knelt at an arm's length from Lae'zel, folding her legs under herself. Her will to pray, which had come easy for her whole life, had all but bled away. Looking up, it almost felt as if Selûne was laughing.

"Are you here to pray in the light your goddess?" Lae'zel asked.

"Yes." The corner of her lip turned upwards. "You must think me foolish, turning from Shar and jumping straight to Selûne like this."

"Nonsense. You returned to your original faith, after recognizing Shar's lies. Devotion is not a character flaw."

And if anyone knew that, it would be Lae'zel. As soon as she had learnt the truth of Orpheus's imprisonment, she had sworn herself to his cause with the same ferocious loyalty she had once reserved for Vlaakith. Shadowheart hadn't understood it, in the moment. Now she had felt the utter relief that a new cause could give when the original one turned out to be rotten.

"And you have never been shy about letting me know of my character flaws," Shadowheart said, offering her a smirk.

"An overabundance of ego can be one's downfall," Lae'zel replied, quick and easy. "Someone had to keep yours in check, istik."

Shadowheart laughed. "And what of your ego, gith?"

"It is precisely as large as it should be."

Oh, that woman. Shadowheart wanted to hit her.

Her laughter faded into thoughtfulness. She had done some... significant revaluation of her life and values over the last weeks. More than that, she had had far too many occasions to think about her loved ones. It wasn't often that one found people willing to fight your battles, when those battles had nothing to do with them in the end.

Neither of them was meditating now. Shadowheart smoother her palms over her trousers and swallowed against the nerves in her throat. Life was short. Any day now, they could all be killed by a Netherbrain. "Lae'zel?"

"Yes?"

"I... There is something I think I may have misunderstood."

"Continue," Lae'zel said.

"I heard you talk with the others, some days back. When we first got to the city."

"You'll have to be more specific than that."

Shadowheart breathed in deeply. "About, ah, githyanki culture. The whole... well I can't pronounce it, something about bruises."

Any doubt she might have had about jumping to conclusions vanished as Lae'zel tensed all over. "Zhak vo'n'ash duj."

"Probably, yes. Am I wrong when I say you were trying to approach me about it?"

"Don't mock me," Lae'zel said, teeth bared in sudden hostility. "I have made my intentions more than clear, as you did with yours."

"My– Now hold on a second, you made your intentions clear?"

Lae'zel stood. "I have offered you my sword against your enemies, invited you to duel me, procured you weapons, showed–"

"Istik," Shadowheart said loudly, pointing a finger at herself. "Didn't you listen to the others? That's not how we court people. Have you stopped for a moment to ask yourself whether I had any clue what was going on?"

Lae'zel said nothing. Which was as close to admitting she had made a mistake as she would get.

"Just sit back down, will you?"

After a long moment, Lae'zel did. Finding herself back at the same level as those yellow eyes, not betraying any emotion, Shadowheart hesitated. She didn't know how to do this. Not with Lae'zel, but in general. If she had ever been truly honest about her feelings with someone else she hadn't yet recovered that memory.

Luckily for her, it was Lae'zel who broke the silence. "Are you suggesting that had I been more considerate of your ignorance the results would have been different?"

"Well, it's a possibility," Shadowheart said, heart skipping.

Lae'zel leaned slightly towards her. "I don't care for possibilities. I gave you far more chances than I ever should have."

"And why did you?"

"I." Lae'zel straightened. Her posture betrayed rare uncertainty. "You are a peculiar creature. Most frustrating."

"You really know how to flatter a woman."

"Tsk'va!" Lae'zel snapped. "Just speak whatever is on your mind."

Right. It was unkind of Shadowheart to drag this on. Better to be honest. If only that was an easy thing to do. "You are also most frustrating, for starters."

Lae'zel gave her some kind of grunt. If Shadowheart focused enough, she could almost see something that looked like vulnerability in her gaze. Weakness that could be exploited. Not that Shadowheart had any desire to do that.

She licked her lips. "You know, I don't mind arguing with you all the time. It's very annoying, but it's... fun. At times."

"Is it?" Lae'zel asked. Her voice sounded a little too hopeful considering Shadowheart's quite honestly piss poor attempt at emotional honesty.

"I think it's because you're not that dislikeable, deep down," Shadowheart continued, cheeks feeling warmer by the second. "You're a prideful, stubborn ass, but you're a trustworthy ass. And when we're not arguing, it's... nice."

"Nice."

"Yes. I truly could not stand you when we first met, but since then I've grown fond of you. You're reliable. And trustworthy. And I guess I could see myself doing some rather filthy things to you. You get what I mean."

"I don't know, you may need to make your intentions clearer."

Shadowheart reached out to slap her shoulder, and was mildly pleased when Lae'zel didn't stop her. "Now you're being a dick. I still want to know what you meant when you talked about chances."

"That doesn't matter," Lae'zel growled.

"Maybe I like being chased."

"Chased," Lae'zel spat. "You offered rejections to all of my reasonable advances. But you– No one had caught my attention as you have before. Even if you pushed me away I could not bear to keep my distance, my mind told me to forget the matter and yet my blood kept singing for you."

That was far more honesty than Shadowheart had expected. It left her frozen on the spot, trying to look for a way to reply. When had Lae'zel first started feeling this way about her? Because depending on the answer Shadowheart might have to feel slightly guilty about not having picked up on any of it.

"You surely are good at catching my attention too," she eventually murmured.

Lae'zel let out a sigh. "But yes, I have seen how you istiks do things. You long for... gentle things and soft feelings."

"I suppose we do, yeah."

"Githyanki do not. Warriors are not made for gentleness, and being soft will not aid you in battle." A small shiver went through Lae'zel. "Yet I find myself craving your kindness as deeply as I desire your wounds decorating my skin."

Shadowheart had to close her eyes for a moment. She hadn't really given much thought to this, beyond the fact that they should clear the air between them. Images of Lae'zel's steel melting under Shadowheart's touch mixed in her mind with others of Lae'zel snarling underneath her. "Well, for my part, I'm not always the nicest of people around. And I think I wouldn't mind having a proper duel with you at some point. I still owe you one."

"You do."

"Then maybe we could meet each other in the middle? Do some githyanki things and some istik ones?"

"That may be workable," Lae'zel said.

"Good. Good." Shadowheart nodded, and forced a sharp smile on her face. "Well, emotional honesty is exhausting. I don't know about you, but I could go back to calling you names right now."

With a thoughtful hum, Lae'zel inclined her head. The sound did not slow the hammering of Shadowheart's heart. Good thing Lae'zel was as blunt as a siege weapon and appreciated people doing the same, because Shadowheart was pretty sure this all counted as the worst declaration of feelings in the history of Faerûn.

As quick as in battle, Lae'zel pounced. Shadowheart barely had time to yelp before lips were pressed to hers, a tongue pushing into her mouth. Someone wasted no time here. It took her a couple seconds to catch up, but soon Shadowheart had her hands clasped around Lae'zel lean, firm – oh gods so firm – biceps and their tongues twining together. Blunt claws dragged through the fine hair at the back of Shadowheart's neck.

When they broke apart, Shadowheart found she had a lapful of githyanki and had no idea when that had happened. Lae'zel was surprisingly heavy for someone so thin. Enough for Shadowheart's legs to go numb if they stayed in this position for too long, but that was the least of her worries.

"That desperate for a piece of me?" Shadowheart breathed, looking up at her.

Lae'zel, fingers still petting Shadowheart's neck, scoffed. "Desperation is unbecoming of a gith."

"That's not a denial."

"This, Shadowheart, is hunger," Lae'zel replied, low.

Oh. Yes. Shadowheart had not thought that far, but if they were doing this then it would make sense for. Selûne save her, Shadowheart should have known Lae'zel would give her no time to get used to this before jumping into her pants. "We're in a public place, Lae'zel. Anyone walks past that fence and they'll see."

Lae'zel glanced aside. "Then I suppose I can wait until we rent a room. If only because that shall give me time to devour you without interruptions."

"Devour me?" Shadowheart said, chocked. Her thighs clenched. "Maybe I will be the one to do the devouring."

"I'd like to see you try," Lae'zel replied, with a smile that was all fangs.

Selûne light cast deep shadows on Lae'zel's face, and somehow in the half darkness she was beautiful. Shadowheart might have been stupid, not making a move earlier. Then again, Lae'zel was the one who didn't bother being clear, so Shadowheart could blame all the time wasted on her. At least in words.

Unable to resist, she leaned in and kissed her again. Slower this time, less fire and more tenderness, and Lae'zel seemed happy enough to follow her lead. Shadowheart tightened her grip, fingers digging in the skin. If it was going to bruise, Shadowheart was not going to offer a healing spell.