“cause i love you for infinity”

Perhaps it was the nostalgia of being back home, or maybe it was the morbid, looming shadow of her inescapable demise; but walking through the streets of the Lower City made Karlach feel especially sentimental. Their mission was daunting, one that no ordinary or sane person would dare consider, but heroes didn’t tend to rise when life was normal. That’s what Karlach wanted to be, a hero. She knew she was bound to die sooner rather than later, and she wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. The hellion was sure of this. She was; past tense. Now, there was someone in her life who made her truly feel alive, who led her to entertain the idea of living longer than the generous months Dammon’s upgrades could give. Karlach didn’t want to let that go. Ten years alone in the hells must have made her sinfully selfish, but she certainly was no saint. 

That “someone” in question soon appeared by her side, falling back from the rest of the group to walk idly beside her.

“What are you thinking about?” Sikah gently brushed her tail against the back of Karlach’s leg. 

Karlach didn’t answer, instead, she reached for the other tiefling’s hand and intertwined their fingers, looking at her expectantly. “Tonight, come on an adventure with me, yeah?”

“Lead the way,” she smiled. 

Later that evening, Karlach came back from the bathhouse to find Sikah waiting for her in the party’s shared room. She was wearing clothes that differed slightly from her normal camp attire: a light grey blouse fastened by a corset with a darker hue, quilted pants to match, and her usual thigh-high boots.  

“Is it too much?” Sikah sheepishly looked up at the other. 

“Never, you look lovely, darling,” Karlach stepped toward her and leaned down for a kiss, “but, for where we’re going there won’t be much need for clothing.”

The shorter tiefling blushed and smacked the barbarian’s arm, shooting her a look as their other companions were still awake and listening. Karlach laughed. 

“Come on then, you’ll see what I mean soon enough.”

The couple walked hand in hand through the now quiet streets of the Lower City. There were still a handful of people out and about, many couples like themselves whispering in the night, seeking respite from their busy daytime worries. Karlach led Sikah past the houses, shops, pubs, and brothels that lined the cobbled streets, down to the docks and further still. The wooden planks of the boat stalls tapered into the sand as they continued, leaving nothing but stretches of undisturbed beach to kiss the shore.

“So, what d'ya think?” Karlach steadied herself against Sikah’s shoulder as she removed her sandals and tossed them into her bag. 

“It’s beautiful,” she mused, gazing out to the horizon. 

From where they stood, the faint glow of torchlight in the city danced with the moon and the stars, illuminating the ocean beside them and casting a warm light across their skin.  

“My parents used to take me out here,” Karlach began as she set their bedrolls and bags down. “Not at night, of course, but in the summers when it was too hot for the average Baldurian. There were a few other tiefling families that would show, and us kiddos would play in the waves for hours until our fingers were like prunes,” She smiled fondly at the memories. “I always liked feeling the cold water on my skin, the hot sand between my toes, the salty smell of the breeze… I thought about this place a lot when I was first in Avernus. I would have killed to have a day on the beach again, and now I can. Even if it’s a nighttime escapade with the woman I love, I wanted to make sure I saw this place one la–“ Karlach stopped herself, “I wanted to see this place again and share it with you.”

Chapter Three: Rekindling

Sikah groaned when the morning sunlight peeked through the haphazardly closed curtains. She hid her face in Karlach’s chest and coiled her limbs around her, smiling as she felt her partner chuckle airily. The mechanical sounds of her engine echoing against her chest and the soft hums of whichever tune plagued Karlach’s mind composed a sweet morning medley. 

“Mornin’, baby,” Karlach’s hand found its home in Sikah’s bed tousled hair, “Sleep good?” 

“Mmhmn…” the smaller tiefling yawned, snuggling closer to her lover’s side. “Warm…” 

Karlach melted. “Gods you’re too cute when you’re all groggy and worn out from fucking, especially when it lasts all the way into the morning after.” 

“Shuddup,” Sikah flicked her forehead, not bothering to open her eyes. 

It was nice to be back in the material plane, to experience night and day and the gifts they permitted. Without the screams of banshees and the hissing of imps, the couple shared a peaceful night together for the first time in what felt like ages. Not that the two hadn’t found time and place to enjoy themselves in the hells, but the change in ambiance was greatly appreciated. A warm bed shared in the embrace of your lover was something Sikah hadn’t realized she missed. They basked in each other’s radiance well into the early hours of the morning, taking full advantage of the blissful silence. Soon enough, the city outside began to wake. Merchants opened their doors, taverns fired up their ovens, boats returned from the break of dawn expeditions, and people wandered the streets. 

“Guess we should get up?” Karlach looked at Sikah, meeting her gaze with a smile. “Gods when you look at me like that I wanna lay in bed with you forever.”

“Good,” the culprit grinned, leaning up to kiss Karlach’s lips, “that was my plan.”

The hellion pinched her sides, “You sly devil. Come on, up and attem!” Karlach tossed the bedcovers to join their undergarments on the floor. 

Sikah glared at her lover as the cool morning air made gooseflesh rise on her bare skin. She grabbed a nearby pillow and chucked it at Karlach as she stretched the sleep from her limbs. 

“Oi! You think you’re funny, do ya?” flames flickered in her hair as she reached down to pick up the discarded cushion. With a devious grin she threw herself back onto the bed, gently returning the pillow assault to her partner. The room was silent for a moment before the pair erupted into laughter that lasted till they were breathless. “I fucking love when you laugh. I love you.” 

“I love you baffling amounts, Karlach.” Sikah caressed the larger woman’s cheek and kissed her forehead. “I’m feeling quite awake now.” 

“Atta girl!” Karlach tossed her lover a fresh set of clothes. “And, I love you too. Now come on, get dressed, we’ve got a sister to scold!” 

Sikah reached for Karlach’s hand and squeezed it tight before raising her knuckles to knock on Gale’s door. Gods she hoped it was Gale who answered. He would probably talk her ear off about how it was rude to storm off and throw knives into his door frame, but Sikah would much rather be scolded by the wizard than the other occupant of the tower. Despite being kept awake at night by her thoughts for the past twelve years, she still needed time to compose them, and herself. Where would she start? What would she say? What should she say? Did she expect an apology? Did Fotiah expect one? 

The door clicked open and Sikah immediately wanted to fall into the shadows and slip away. She turned to step back, but her barbarian partner kept her anchored in place. 

Fotiah’s face was a blended expression of surprise, concern, and annoyance as she processed the tiefling couple on her doorstep. “Are you coming to apologize to Gale about the doorframe from your tantrum yesterday?” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

Sikah wanted so badly to lie and say yes; to feign an apology to Gale and be done with it, but Karlach’s words echoed in her mind: I want you to experience the love a family can offer. 

“Yes and no,” Sikah answered shortly. “Can we come in?” 

“Seriously?” Her sister’s expression was almost perplexed, but she opened the door nonetheless.  

Karlach gave her lover’s hand a reassuring squeeze as Fotiah opened the door and welcomed them back into her home. The rogue’s dagger was still lodged into the doorframe, painted wood splintering from the pressure. Sikah’s cheeks were red with shame as Karlach reached up to pluck it from the wall. 

Fotiah led them to what Sikah assumed was the same tearoom they had been in the day prior, though it looked a bit different, less of Gale’s style. 

“Before you ask, yes, it’s the same room. It’s a simple illusion spell to which the decor changes based on the desired aesthetic of the caster. I prefer greens to Gale’s adoration of purples.” The younger tiefling took a seat in one of the sofa-chairs. 

Sikah remained standing, keeping her guard high. Karlach stood beside her with a reassuring hand on the small of her back. 

“So, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” Fotiah crossed her legs as one of her mage hands pushed a sofa towards the hell adventurers, urging them to sit. 

Karlach nudged Sikah’s shoulder and muttered in infernal, “I’m right here, you’ll be fine, just talk.” 

The mage chuckled, “I can read lips and understand infernal, Karlach, though I do appreciate your attempts at discrete encouragement. Am I really that intimidating?” 

“Ah, right. My bad, sorry. I’ll just… have a seat here, let you two chat it out or whatever,” she blushed, awkwardly shifting her weight between her feet. “Actually!” Karlach stood up quickly after sitting down, “I think I’ll go find Gale! He’d mentioned something about having me come speak to the rascals in one of his classes. The school is just up the road, right?” 

“Up the road and to the left, can’t miss it,” Fotiah nodded. 

“Wonderful, thanks!” The barbarian leaned down to peck Sikah on the lips, “I love you, you’ve got this, okay? Please don’t chew me out later for leaving okaybye!” 

Sikah glared at the slightly singed floor her lover left behind. Great. Now she was alone. Why was she always left to face her troubles alone? 

No. She was being dramatic, unreasonably so. Sikah had faced greater enemies with friends and allies by her side. She’d faced a damned cult and a netherbrain for gods’ sake! Survived it too. That was a battle she needed companions for, this… well, this was something she could, and should do alone. 

“It was my idea to invite you two, by the way,” Fotiah broke the pregnant silence. “Gale was hesitant, he expressed his doubts, his worries. He wants both of you to be there, but he was certain you wouldn’t come if you knew it was me.”

Sikah shrugged, letting her sister talk. She wasn’t wrong. If she’d known that Gale was planning on marrying her sister, well, she’d probably come to the material plane just to beat some sense into him and return back to Avernus. 

“But, I wanted you to be here, I still do.” The other tiefling continued, “Gale told me about your travels together, how you stood by him when he needed it most, what a strong and compassionate leader you were. I found it hard to believe at first. My sister? The one who abandoned her home the second she was faced with opposition? It couldn’t be. But he showed me paintings, memories, visions, and there was no doubt that he was speaking the truth.” 

“Why? Why did you stay with him after finding out he had connections to me?” Sikah perched herself on the arm of the couch, letting her legs dangle over the sides in case she needed to quickly spring to her feet. 

“I didn’t feel that it mattered,” Fotiah answered. “Not everyone is as petty as you are, Sikah.” 

“Really? As if you’ve never been?” The rogue rolled her eyes. 

“You wouldn’t know, you were gone for most of my life!” her sister’s voice was strained with emotion, prompting her to begin communicating with her hands instead. “You left me, all because I tried to protect you like you always did for me. You left and you missed so much. You missed me going to school, mastering the weave, falling in love, having my heart broken. The sister I thought I knew would have wanted to be there for that.” 

“You don’t know me,” Sikah aggressively signed back.

Fotiah stood from her seat. “You never let me know you. I’m starting to think you never wanted me to. How do you think it felt to hear the first utterances of your sister, whom you haven’t heard of in over a decade, come from the man I was courting? I was envious of him, because despite me being your kin, he, a random stranger, knew you more than I ever did.”

“Do you think it was easy for me to leave? You don’t think I wanted to come home? I couldn’t, Fotiah, they wouldn’t let me.” She sighed frustratedly, “I’d come by, you know, sneak up and peer through the window. I’d see you and dad and Trielle sitting by the fire and you looked happy. I saw my things out in sacks on the side of the road when you moved to the upper city, I read in the census when dad stated he had one daughter, not two. I hated how quickly you all forgot me. So, I chose to forget you instead. I joined a pack of thieves and I didn’t look back. They were my family, or so they made me think.” 

Sikah didn’t know why her lips, through the signs of her hands, were so loose. Was there something in the air? A cantrip or spell that made her speak her mind? She hadn’t eaten or drank anything her sister offered, she hadn’t detected any magic… or maybe there was nothing. Perhaps she’d grown as a person and had finally allowed herself to get over her pettiness and yearned for her sister’s forgiveness. Did she want forgiveness? 

“Then they betrayed you, just as I felt you betrayed me,” Fotiah sat back down. “Your story doesn’t excuse your actions, but it does explain them. Thank you.”

“Yet you never tried to stop dad and Trielle when they erased me from their lives. Why want me back now?” 

“No matter how much you tried to be forgotten, I never forgot you, Sikah, I never wanted to. You were all I had for so long, I couldn’t lose you.” Fotiah smiled weakly, “That’s why I brought up your jobs to dad and Tri. The same reason I sent the invitation despite Gale’s hesitation; I can’t let you go again.” She held out her hand and spoke, “I don’t expect everything to be happy-go-lucky, nor do I think this brief reconciliation will solve the tribulations of the past, but I do think it’s a start. I want my sister back; and I’d be a fool to watch you walk away when you’re within arm’s reach.”

Sikah stared at her sister’s hand in disbelief. Why? After everything she’d done, Fotiah wasn’t moved by resentment or petty grudges. Surely there had to be some semblance of such feelings deep down, but the younger tiefling handled her emotions with grace. It was that simple wasn’t it? A girl wanted her sister in attendance at her wedding, simple as that. Her sister was being selfish and for the first time, Sikah didn’t mind it. 

Chapter Two: Words of Wisdom

Sikah was not in Baldur’s Gate. She was not in her hometown, yet home came to her, family found her. She couldn’t stand the thought. She didn’t want to be found, she had a new home. 

“I can’t believe this shit,” She hissed under her breath as she sulked through the nearby marketplace, snatching a few apples and tarts from oblivious eyes. 

Sikah pulled her hood over her head and wandered out of town into the shallow forest nearby. She sat by the river and ate her petty goods, chucking the apple cores into the running water, watching them bob down the stream. 

Gods.

If Fotiah was here and was to be wed, their father and stepmother were sure to make an appearance. The thought made Sikah sick. She hadn’t seen nor contacted her family in twelve years. She wasn’t saddened by it, she preferred it this way. Her father and Trielle made it very clear that she was no longer welcome in their home, that she was no longer kin if she were to continue on the path she walked. Sometimes Sikah wondered what her life would be if her secret was kept, if her sister hadn’t betrayed her trust— those thoughts, those what ifs, were prominent now. 

She was angry. Angry at Gale, angry with Karlach, angry at her sister, the world, her past, and her future. All the blades that the cruel universe had sharpened were pointed at her, piercing her heart. Hot tears pricked her eyes as she stood up and grabbed her daggers from her pouch. Sikah yelled as she chucked one of them into a nearby tree with such force that its bark splintered. Again and again she threw her daggers into the backs of the trees, screaming and crying till her arms were numb, her hands bloody, and her throat dry. 

Exhausted from her outburst, Sikah fell to her knees and sobbed, huddled against a tree with her knees to her chest. 

“Darling?” Karlach’s warm voice fell upon her ears. Her usual smile was replaced by a worried pout which only deepened at the sight of her partner’s teary eyes. “Hey, hey… c’mere,” she sat on the earth’s floor next to Sikah, close for their shoulders to touch. “Talk to me, soldier.”

Sikah didn’t look at Karlach, but flatly whispered, “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing, I didn’t stay,” the barbarian ran a hand through the other’s hair. “I’ve been looking for you. You’re real sneaky, love, ya know that? Took me hours before I thought to check the forest.” 

“ ‘m sorry…” the smaller tiefling leaned shyly into Karlach’s side. “This was supposed to be a nice break for us, a reward for enduring the hells, but instead we’re here; here in this bullshit town with my bullshit sister and stupid fucking Gale. Why didn’t he tell me?! I told him about Fotiah, Karlach. I told him and he still did this.” 

Karlach chuckled, “Baby there is no reward for enduring the hells. If there was, there’d be no hells to endure. Think about it like this: even outside Avernus, even after all Dammon’s upgrades, my engine still burns. A piece of hell is always with me, inside me. There’s always going to be hellfire, even on the material plane. And yes, it’s fuckin’ shit, but it’s the way shit is. Ten years in Avernus makes you remember that.” 

“Who are you and what have you done with my Karlach? She’s never been so poetic like this.” A small smile tugged at Sikah’s lips. 

“Your Karlach, eh?” Sikah could feel Karlach’s grin. “Well, your Karlach thinks it would be good to talk about what’s happened. Maybe she has more poetic advice to give.” Karlach patted her lap in invitation. 

With a huff, the rogue moved to sit on the larger woman’s lap, straddling her hips and resting her hands on her scarred chest. 

“What more is there to talk about? I told you about my childhood and Fotiah, what more is there?” Sikah fixated her focus on tracing her fingers around the valves embedded in Karlach’s skin. “She told my father and his new wife about my real job instead of keeping it secret like she promised. They kicked me out, I joined Mammon’s Bane, and the rest of the story you know.” 

“Do you blame her for what happened when you were in the Bane?” 

She shook her head. “No, I don't blame her for that. But… Fotiah was always coddled and spoiled. She was the magic prodigy, the light and happy one, the perfect daughter. She had it all, so why did she have to spoil the little faith my family still had in me? After all I did for her?”

Karlach sighed and pressed a kiss to Sikah’s forehead, cupping her scarred cheek with her hand. In the larger woman’s palm, her lover’s face felt so small. A woman of her size and stature carried burdens that would lead even the strongest soldier to falter. Yet Sikah carried them with weightless grace. The barbarian had her own afflictions, yes, but Karlach dealt with hers in a contrary way in comparison to her partner’s undemanding endurance. Maintaining such a strong and composed exterior while being crushed by the weight of her past tribulations must have been exhausting, and Karlach concluded that today was her beloved’s tipping point. She traced her thumb over the raised skin and wiped a stray tear from Sikah’s eye. 

“What?” Sikah looked up inquisitively at Karlach’s uncharacteristically silent smile. 

“Nothin’. I was just thinking about how fucking strong you are, even in your cute tiny body.” 

The smaller tiefling rolled her eyes and pouted, “I am not tiny, you’re just ungodly tall.”

“Listen, baby. I’m bein’ serious now, okay? We can argue about your vertical challenges later.” Karlach’s flames flickered blue for a brief moment. “I love you, yeah? You were there with me at my breaking point with Gortash, there to hug me tight and ground me without the fear of being burned. There to help me breathe when my chest was crushed under the pressure of anger and sadness. You brought me back to earth when I was far, far away. Let me do that for you?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sikah looked to the floor. 

“I know you do, you’ve got a higher intelligence score than me by far, but I can spell it out for you.” Karlach guided the other woman’s face by the chin to look into her eyes, “You stand face to face with your past and are being forced to confront it. Reopening those wounds hurts like hell, and any normal person would want to avoid purposeful pain, but baby you can’t run from it forever. You can heal them now while you have the chance.” She sighed, “I know I will never know the struggles of having a sister, but I have to imagine that there are some joys, no?” 

Sikah dug her nails into Karlach’s scarred shoulders and avoided her gaze. “You don’t understand, it isn’t that easy. I didn’t have the fun, loving, happy home life like you did. After my mom died my father became an alcoholic asshole, I was left to take care of Fotiah all on my own, I was six Karlach. I never had the chance to be a kid, never had the time to fuck up and learn, as soon as I dared to do something reckless, the girl who I fought so hard to protect sold me out. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”

“I do.” Karlach went quiet. The words Sikah spoke reminded her of her past with Gortash; fighting tooth and nail for his protection, caring for someone so deeply only to have them toss you aside. This didn’t feel the same, however. Fotiah had done nothing to intentionally harm Sikah, didn’t sell her off to the hells to fight in a war that wasn’t hers. 

“Shit, Kar I’m sorry I didn’t…” Sikah realized the weight of her remarks and bit her tongue. “I’ll listen.”

The barbarian let out a steady breath. “Thank you,” she offered a meek smile and scratched soothing stripes down her lover’s back. “Sik, I’m not asking you to be her bestest friend in the whole world, hells, I’m not asking you to forgive her either. I am, however, asking you to talk to her. Maybe it’s selfish because I wish my folks were still around, but I want you to experience the love a family can offer.”

“But I have you now, is that not enough?”

“My love is different, and you know that,” Karlach reasoned. 

“You make it sound easy.”

“Well, being constantly on the verge of death really changes your outlook on things.” 

“Karlach…”

“I’m being for real, darling. If I had the chance to have a level head on my shoulders and the opportunity to politely cuss out Gortash instead of decapitating him, I may have considered it.” She laughed, “Closure, or something like that.”

Sikah realized now that she herself was being a bit selfish, maybe even a bit of a bitch. Fotiah hadn’t committed such grave sins against her like certain others had, yet she continued to hold a grudge. Yes her sister’s actions led to her expulsion from their family, but that was the extent of her crimes. Her sister had caused her no physical harm, no tempest of torment; hells, if she really hated Sikah that much, she was certain Fotiah wouldn’t entertain Gale. 

“Come on, out with it, I can smell your brain cooking,” Karlach teased, playfully poking Sikah’s cheek. 

“Shut it,” Sikah blushed and swatted her hand away. “I think I’ve been unfair. She’s no Zotian, yet I hold a stronger grudge against her. Gods she probably hates me.” 

“I think if she hated you, she wouldn’t have let Gale invite us to the wedding,” Karlach concluded, “What’s your plan?”

Curses on Karlach for always being such a positive light. For a barbarian, she had more wisdom than she led on. Sikah let her shoulders relax for what felt like the first time in months. “I’ll talk to her. No promises on if the outcome will be pleasant, but I’ll talk.”

“That’s my girl.” The tiefling smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips, causing Sikah to squeak. “Hahah, you like that?” Karlach teased triumphantly, biting the other’s ear. 

“Not a word.” Sikah’s heart was drumming in her ears, her pale red skin now deepened with blush. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll quit… for now,” she smirked. “Now, up you go, my ass hurts. You’ve gained quite a bit of muscle killin’ all those devils.” Karlach playfully smacked Sikah’s behind. 

The rogue got up and flipped her lover the finger as she began to walk away, to which the taller woman laughed as she took a few strides to catch up with her. Karlach stepped in front of Sikah, stopping her in her tracks, beaming as she looked down at her. 

“What?” The shorter woman crossed her arms and raised a brow, “I thought you wanted me to talk to my sister, so let me do it.” 

“Well, it’s getting a bit late. Maybe we should save the reconciling for tomorrow? Sleep on your thoughts a bit? We wouldn’t want to interrupt the soon to be wed’s private nighttime rituals.” She wiggled her eyebrows. 

“Karlach, gross, that’s my sister, I don’t want to think about her being taken to bed by Gale.” Sikah gagged. 

“What do you think about me taking you to bed instead?” Karlach brushed her tail against the small of Sikah’s back. 

“You ass, that was your plan all along.”

“And if it was?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Karlach’s pointed teeth poked through her scheming grin, “Lovely.”

Chapter One: An Invitation

It had been a long and treacherous year since Withers last summoned the party to their camp in Baldur’s Gate. After a mere night of respite, it was back into the hot hellfire of Avernus for Sikah and Karlach. Despite the ever-changing puzzle that was the hell's landscape, Wyll occasionally joined the pair in quarrels with imps and mephits when their paths crossed. It wasn’t often, but it was still more frequent than summons from the material plane. Albeit, Sikah yearned for another invitation, wishing that it was a bi-annual affair.

The next time the couple saw Wyll he came bearing an invitation— a wedding one at that. 

“A wedding?” Karlach leaned over Sikah’s shoulder to sneak a peek at the paper in her hands. “Who’s getting hitched?”

“Gale,” Sikah answered simply as she read over the eloquent scrawl. 

My dearest infernal warriors Sikah and Karlach, I hope this invitation finds you well and engines cooler. I apologize that I cannot deliver the news in person, but the hells are no place for a wizard such as myself, the soon to be wife insists— and such is the matter of this letter! 

If you so happen to be at a pausing point in your quest for heart-smithing, I would be most delighted to have you as esteemed guests for my betrothal. Whether it be through Wyll or Withers, I truly do hope to see you in attendance. The date is a ten-day from the composition of this invitation, dated the twenty-fifth day of the third month of the year 1494. 

Sincerely yours,

Gale. 

“Always a charmer that one was, eh soldier?” Karlach chuckled and nudged her partner’s shoulder. “I could go for a few days free of this shithole, and Dammon’s latest upgrade got me patched up enough for a ten-day up top! We gotta go see what trouble Gale’s gotten himself into now. It better not be that goddess of his, I think I’d actually lose my shit, darling.” 

Sikah nodded and folded the parchment neatly before tucking it into her pocket-belt, “Well, whoever it is must have the patience of a saint or the will of a bull, hopefully both now that I think of it.” 

“Gale’s a good man! In sure whoever he’s found is a goddess in her own right,” Wyll interjected with a light chuckle. 

“You don’t know who she is?” Sikah questioned. 

“Not a clue,” the Blade shrugged. “Gale didn’t give me the invitation himself either. My trips to the surface are more frequent than yours, but still not many. The invite was tucked in the mailbox of my hideout in Waukeen’s Rest.” 

“Well, a little bit of surprise has only killed some people! I’m sure whoever good ol’ Gale found is lovely.” Karlach added as she idly stretched her arms above her head. “Now, while I love all this chit-chat, I’d also love to get the hell out of here. Wyll?”

The horned man nodded. “Aye, portal is at Hope’s. If we set off now, we’ll make it to Waterdeep three days before the ceremony.”  

Fresh, cool, salty air graced her senses after the brief yet unpleasant flames of the portal from Avernus. In her travels, Sikah had never ventured far north to Waterdeep. It was a charming place, nothing extravagant to the extent of which Gale described by the fire of their camp, but fairly pleasant. In fairness, anything in comparison to Avernus, even a mound of dirt, was pleasant. 

“So these are Gale’s old stomping grounds? Quite a nice place, but it’s no Baldur’s Gate.” Karlach smiled and nudged Sikah with the tip of her tail. 

“It is rather quaint, much more magic in the air.” The rogue observed, “Which way is Gale's tower?”

“If I remember correctly, it should be right up this path and to the left, conveniently next to the Blackstaff School of Magic.” Wyll guided with his hand. 

“Well then, let’s march!” Karlach’s voice boomed in excitement as she grabbed Sikah and Wyll’s hands to drag them up the path.

A wizard’s tower was always a sight to behold— tall spires, elaborate stained glass, archways and eaves galore; but Gale’s domain felt more… homey. Instead of stone, the walls were made of wood, light greenery and moss climbed up the walls and flowers were planted in window boxes. The Blackstaff school a few paces down certainly made up for the lack of splendor. Perhaps the lack of extravagance was purposeful to avoid arcane tricksters. 

“If I didn’t know the wizard who lived here, I wouldn’t think a wizard lived here at all,” Sikah mused as they stood on his doorstep, “this is the most humble I’ve seen Gale.”

“I beg your pardon?” A familiar voice came from the now open door. 

“Gale!” Karlach jumped past Sikah and Wyll to pull the wizard into a hug. 

“Oof! Good to see you again Karlach, you look well, less hot to the touch too.” He chuckled, straightening his robes after the barbarian released him. 

“Hahah sorry mate, got a little excited, didn’t mean to ruffle your wizard feathers,” she grinned. 

“You’re more than alright Karlach, I’m glad you could make it, and with company too! Sikah, looking sharp as always,” Gale stepped around the taller tiefling woman to embrace Sikah with a smile. “And Wyll, the Blade of Avernus! Thank you for delivering my message my friend.”

Wyll nodded. “With pleasure, Gale. It’s about time there was an excuse for the lot of us to reunite. Speaking of which, I promised Shadowheart that I’d escort her to the Jade Jug. She arrives in Baldur’s Gate tomorrow and the trip is roughly a day's journey, so I’ll be taking my leave. We will have plenty of time to catch up during the week’s festivities, I’m sure.”

“Ah, of course Wyll. Do make sure god’s favourite princess arrives in one piece.” Gale chuckled. 

“I’ll relay your sentiments,” Wyll said with a smirk before dismissing himself from the wizard’s tower. 

“Well, I suppose it’s just us three to catch up then!” Gale clapped his hands together, “How has your infernal smithy search been going? I do hope the hells are treating you nicely.”

“The hells treat no one nicely, but we’re managing, good company makes it better.” Sikah winked at Karlach. “What about you? Getting hitched? Had an eventful year since we last spoke?”

“You could say that. Tia and I had just started courting when Withers summoned us all last year; still too soon to bring her to meetings with old friends, in my opinion.” The wizard led the pair of tieflings through his tower, up a magical staircase, to what Sikah assumed was a tea room. 

She sat cross legged on one of the sofas as mage hands magically brewed a pot of tea, one bringing in a cold ale for Karlach.

“Fuck yes! I’ve been itching for a cold pint, Gale you’re the best!” She enthusiastically grabbed the mug, chugging half of it in one go. “Sooo, how’d you two meet? Can’t be any cooler than Sik and I here,” Karlach smirked as she sat beside her lover and draped her arm around Sikah’s shoulders. 

“Well, it’s not as fiery as you two, but I do like to think it’s just as sweet.” Gale blushed, the Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep was blushing. “We’re both professors at Blackstaff, and with her classroom beside mine, she was given the wonderful opportunity of showing me around the academy when I first started.” 

Sikah rolled her eyes as she accepted a cup of tea from a misty appendage, “Yes Gale, an opportunity, surely not a pesterance,” she smirked before sipping her tea. 

“I’ll have you know I make great company! Especially in academia, thank you.” He protested. 

“And are we gonna meet this girl before you two tie the knot or is it a surprise for everyone?” Karlach inquired as she mindlessly twirled a strand of Sikah’s hair around her finger. 

“Ah, she should be home soon. There were a few tutoring sessions she was supervising this afternoon.” Gale smiled as a bell rang from somewhere below them in the tower, as if on queue. “Well, speak of the devil and she shall appear! Not that she’s a devil of course, do not tell her I said that.” He stood up quickly and stood in the room’s entry way. “Up here darling! Our guests from the hells have arrived.” 

“Gale, whatever you’re saying I cannot hear you, especially all the way up there where I can’t read your lips. Send one of the hands down to sign, will you?” A woman’s voice called back. It sounded… oddly familiar. “I swear, you’d think after almost two years of courting you would remember that your betrothed is deaf. You’re lucky you have charm, Gale Dekarios.” 

The woman in question soon appeared in the doorway, standing on her toes to kiss Gale’s cheek. A tiefling with pale red skin similar to the smoked flesh of a salmon and piercing hellfire yellow eyes. Her hair was a fair blonde like Sikah’s, tied in a loose bun at the nape of her neck with two horns standing a few inches taller than the rogue’s own. Sikah’s heart dropped. 

“My apologies, dear. The excitement of our guests has scrambled my mind.” Gale looked back at the women on his couch and winked. “Sikah, Karlach, this is my fiancée Fo–”

“Fotiah.” Sikah now stood, posture tall and defensive, arms crossed and brow furrowed. 

“Fotiah? Isn’t that the name of your sister?” Karlach now stood beside her girlfriend and glanced between the two. 

“Yes. It is.” Sikah’s tail flicked back and forth angrily. “Come, Karlach, we’re leaving. We don’t have to go back to Avernus yet, but we will not be entertaining this. Congratulations Gale, I hope you’re happy.”

“Wait, Sikah, let me explain,” Gale extended his hand to stop her as she walked past them. 

The shorter tiefling smacked his hand away. “No, Gale. I don’t want to hear it. You knew. You know how I must feel about this, and you didn’t think to tell me you were betrothed to my fucking sister?!” The spikes under Sikah’s skin flared. “It’s because you knew I wouldn’t come, is it not? How did you think it would go over when this happened? Did you really think that I would just act like everything was perfectly fine? Just because it’s your wedding? It must be nice still living life naive, Gale, after everything.” 

Sikah was halfway to the door when she noticed the lack of warmth behind her. She turned around to face Karlach, “Karlach. We’re leaving.” 

The barbarian shifted in place with uncertainty. 

“Fine. Stay here.” Sikah spat angrily, starting to sign with her hands as she yelled. “Make me a villain again, Fotiah, turn the woman I love against me! Turn everyone I care about against me again, I’m numb to the feeling.” She slammed the door behind her and threw a dagger into its frame before storming off. 

From the balcony of the inn, Sikah sat and watched as dark gray clouds, heavy with rain, slowly crept their way up the horizon and toward the city. She could hear the low rumble of thunder as they drew nearer and could smell the raindrops in the breeze. Her stomach ached. 

Thunderstorms weren’t an abnormality along the Sword Coast. The proximity to the raging sea and the area’s pseudo-island climate brewed a perfect storm. When it rained in Baldur’s Gate it rained hard. Light showers were a rarity, only spitting in spring; for the refining seasons, there was little snow, no showers, and no sprinkles, only drenching downpours. 

When Sikah was young she loved the rain— loved splashing in puddles, counting the seconds between thunder claps, watching lightning race across the sky. Her mother would tell her it was the gods and goddesses practicing their archery, each hot flash of pure energy an ethereal arrow. 

Lightning was just that, pure energy in a blistering flash. She reached up and carefully brushed her fingertips across her permanently disfigured skin as the memories resurfaced. Sikah could still feel the sweltering pain on her face and see the blinding bolt of light emitting from a whip which cracked like thunder. 

She gasped as something, no, someone, tapped her shoulder. 

“Shit baby, I didn't mean to scare you.” Karlach took a step back, “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine…” Sikah lied as she stood up and brushed dust from her pants. “Need something?” 

“I was just checking in on ya, you’d been out here on the balcony for a while,” the taller tiefling leaned her back against the railing as she took a deep breath of coastal storm air. “Smells like rain.”

“Mmhm,” she hummed another passive lie, eyes still fixated on the darkening horizon. 

“For a rogue you’re a shit liar sometimes,” the barbarian observed, “What’s on your mind?” 

“It’s nothing,” Sikah winced as the skies opened up, darkening the cobblestone with heavy drops of precipitation, “let’s go inside.” 

Karlach wasn’t buying it. Something was up with Sikah and she was damn determined to figure out what. She pondered for a moment, cogs turning in her head while she reviewed the past hour. The evening had been rather normal, she thought. The party had stumbled into the tavern bruised and bloody from a day’s worth of adventuring. Firstly, herself and Sikah promptly made their way up to the inn to wash up before having dinner with the group, after which they retired to their shared room. From then on, Sikah had been out on the balcony watching the storm clouds. Even now, laying in bed with the balcony doors shut, the smaller tiefling kept an eagle eye on the window. 

“Did’jya see something suspicious out there? I can go pester Astarion to take care of it, he’s probably hungry.” Karlach attempted to draw her lover’s attention away from the window and onto her. 

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine, really,” Sikah gave her a reassuring half-smile. 

The taller woman raised a brow, “Darling, I love you, but you’re really bad at lying to me— which I appreciate, don’t get me wrong, but you can talk to me.” 

Sikah was silent, eyes fixated on Karlach’s fingertips as the larger woman moved to pull her into her chest. “I’m afraid of thunderstorms, of lightning, all of it,” her voice came out in a whisper. “It’s stupid. I can face goblins, devils, shapeshifters, cultists, and shadow cursed lands all without an ounce of fear, but a thunderstorm? I feel pathetic.”

“Hey now, I don’t date pathetic people, if I wanted to do that I’d go find Volo or some shit,” Karlach joked in an attempt to lower her lover’s guard. “Everyone has things they’re afraid of, baby. Usually for a good reason too.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Sikah rolled her eyes as a tiny smile dared to escape her lips. She tensed as a clasp of thunder shook the building, pressing herself into Karlach’s warm embrace. “Shit.”

“Hey, you’re alright, I’ve got you,” the barbarian cupped the woman’s cheek and ran her thumb over its textured flesh. She wanted to ask Sikah to tell the story of her scars, to uncover the mysteries that hid behind tarnished skin and bask in her bravery. Yet, Karlach’s mind was absent as she continued to pet Sikah’s cheek, softly humming as her eyes shamelessly wandered across the map of her speckled skin. “You’re beautiful, you know.” She eyed Sikah’s lips, her thumb teasing to inch closer. The smaller tiefling reached up to guide Karlach’s hand away, placing it on her chest before she draped her arms around the hellion’s neck. 

As rain continued to cascade down the inn’s window, the tieflings kept warm under the lush duvet of their bed. The next hours were spent in a lovers’ embrace; hands wandering across skin, muttered adorations, and airy breaths. With their clothes strewn across the floor, Karlach was able to fully appreciate her partner’s body in the blossoming candlelight. Sikah lay on her chest, back exposed to the air, arms hugged underneath one of the plush, feather pillows the inn provided. Her hair was down and out of its usual ponytail, cascading just barely past her shoulders. It had to be a horrible mess of tangles by now, for it hadn’t seen a brush in gods knows how long, yet her lover’s fingers effortlessly combed through it. Karlach reached out and traced her fingers over Sikah’s complexion, connecting the freckles in constellations across the map of her skin. Amongst the freckles were several scars, ranging from small cuts victim of anxious picking; to deep, discolored scar tissue from tougher quarrels. 

“You know, I’ve always liked a woman with a bit of story to her.” Karlach hummed as her nails trailed over scars, smiling as Sikah peeked an eye open and looked at her. 

The smaller tiefling raised a brow, “and by that you mean?” 

“Your body tells a story that no other can tell. Each scar, every dimple, freckle, and divett is completely unique to you. I could stare at you for hours and still manage to find something new.” Her infernal engine flickered as she shifted to prop herself on her elbow and rest her chin in the palm of her hand. “As you live you get more scars, maybe some more tattoos, all which give more stories to tell, I think it’s nice. I’ve never really cared for the flawless skin of elves, too smooth, reminds me of a naked cat.”

“I’m going to tell Astarion you called him a naked cat,” Sikah chuckled, too comfortable to budge from her current position. 

“Good, tell him, I think it’d be hilarious!” Karlach laughed. “He can stay being a pretty boy, I like my rogues tougher ‘round the edges.” 

The rogue bit her lip and pondered on her next words, tracing the raised skin on the back of Karlach’s strong hand when it rested over hers. “I haven’t told you how I got the scar on my face, have I?” Sikah shyly looked up at the stronger woman. 

“Nope,” Karlach shook her head. “If it makes you feel better, I thought it was a birthmark or something at first; but a battle scar is much more sexy.”