My Shadowheart centric fics were all worked on by my wife and I, who beta read and worked on all of them closely with me. But my marriage ended halfway through last year. All of that work is so tied up into the pain of that situation that I can’t put any more love into it. It didn’t feel like it was mine alone.

Letting go of that hyper fixation was hard, I cut myself off from the community that surrounded it too, but it genuinely helped me move on. The new interests and things I find myself doing aside from my new friendships and relationships I’m exploring have brought me a lot of peace. I also started school again, put more time into myself, and learned to bake.

It’s hard to say goodbye to things you love, and I truly loved the community I found in the Shadowheart fandom, but I’ve gotten to say hello to so many wonderful changes in my life.

The AO3 writers curse got me haha! If you ever read my chapter notes you’d see that in the year I got really into writing on AO3 my car was stolen, I broke my leg, lost my house, got divorced, moved away, and started a completely new life. But for the first time in my life I can look in the mirror and be proud of who I see looking back at me.

Thank you for the release of writing, for the patience, for the love, and for sifting through my angst!

To anyway who read this super personal letter to myself and my blog, thank you!

Things truly get better when you give it time and care ❤️

Snow fell upon what were once the circus grounds in Rivington, now sporting a boisterous Midwinter market. The snow, of course, was conjured by Elminster, who was gleefully partaking in sweets, brought forth by Minsc, who’d discovered a passion for baking alongside Boo since taking a step back from adventuring. Halsin had made his way from Reithwin, hoard of children in tow, boasting an impressive display of carved animals upon his table.

Shadowheart looked to her own goods, a collection of hard ciders and fruit wines, fresh from the orchards of the Hallowleaf farms. Beside her, Lae’zel sat upon a carved wooden stool, a bored look on her face as the crowds passed.

Their luck in selling the collected wares had been dismal, with not a single bottle of cider sold to those gathered to celebrate the coming of winter. It didn’t bother Shadowheart too much, as truly, she was grateful for the chance to see the familiar faces of her friends from the time of the Absolute. Her life amid her family and her vast assortment of animals was gentle, perfect in a way, but she still longed for her friends from time to time.

Tearing her from her musing was a group of rowdy men, stumbling before the humble tent that housed their goods. One of them caught sight of Lae’zel, then the cider on display, before letting out a raucous guffaw.

“A Gith farmer. I’ve seen everything now.” The man mocked.

Shadowheart flushed with anger, opening her mouth to give the man what for, but before she could, Lae’zel rose, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of half the market.

“The only thing you should be seeing is the wonderful display of goods my wife has put together.” She seethed, the word wife still foreign on her tongue, while she glared at the men. A moment later, her sharp gaze fell on Shadowheart, softening for just a moment as their eyes met, “Tell the kainyank of your goods.” She commanded, returning to glare at the men, now on the verge of cowering.

A brief smirk found Shadowheart’s lips, before she began her carefully practiced pitch, which resulted in their first sales of the winter market. If it was out of fear that the bargain was struck, so be it. When the men wandered off into the snowy market, be sodden with booze, Shadowheart crept to Lae’zel’s side, pressing the gentlest of kisses upon her warm cheek, and slipping her hand into that of the Gith.