#rhobg

             The gleaming spires of Waterdeep were especially grand, dressed in a thick layer of snow that sparkled in the final purple warmth of the sunset. A soft, frigid breeze whipped deposits of loose powder into swirling eddies that danced past windows that were blurred with frost. Candlelight from within illuminated the frozen fractals, a spectacle of ice and flickering brilliance.

              The home of Morena Dekarios was located a little further from the city center than her son’s tower, but the slightly humbler location was by no means reflected in Madam Dekarios’s flair for interior design. The walls were lined with art, commissioned from small local artists, and a large tapestry depicting a maiden, a matron, and a matriarch dancing hand-in-hand in an orange grove was displayed proudly on the largest wall in the dining room. Helena had complimented it during her first visit to her mother-in-law’s home, and her eyes were drawn to it at each subsequent meal.

              But as the final bites of the newly-formed family’s Winter Solstice feast were consumed, Helena’s attention was planted firmly on her father, who had grown quiet. She studied his face, noting the creases in his forehead, the wrinkles around his eyes. Warm fingers wrapped around her hand that she’d placed in her lap and the spell was momentarily broken as she shifted her gaze from her father to her husband. Gale smiled gently, giving her hand a squeeze.

              “Well!” Morena said, blotting the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “I do believe that is one of the finest Solstice meals I have had in quite some time!” She gestured towards Gale. “Well done as usual, my darling boy. Your culinary talents are ever-impressive.”

              “Thank you, Mother,” Gale replied, a faint pink blooming across his cheeks. “Helena has been instrumental in improving my recipes.” He nudged his shoulder into Helena’s arm softly. “Having such a willing and discerning palate at my disposal is quite the boon.”

              Morena smiled brightly at her daughter-in-law.

              “Very good.” She sighed before bracing herself on the arms of her chair. “Well, let me get these dishes to the kitchen then.”

              Ildan, who hadn’t spoken for some time, leapt up from his seat, reaching for the empty platter at the center of the table.

              “Oh, no! Let me get those for you, Morena.”

              “Nonsense,” Morena chuckled. “I am perfectly capable of clearing my own table.”

              “But you have been so kind as to open your home to me,” Ildan pressed. “I wish to return that kindness.”

              “It really is no trouble,” Morena said.

              “Please. Allow me to make myself useful.”

              Silence fell over the table for a moment before Helena stood from her chair and picked up the platter herself. She glanced at Gale, who quickly stood as well and began gathering plates.

              “Papa,” she said softly, “you sit down and relax. Gale and I will clear the table.” There was an awkward pause as she attempted to reassure her father with a smile.

              “Ah,” Ildan breathed before slowly sinking back into his chair. “Right.”

              Gale and Helena gathered all the dishes and toted them into the kitchen, which was but one room away, connected to the dining room by a large archway. When they were out of eyeshot, Helena turned to Gale and looked at the dishes in her hands.

              “Gale, I…”

              “Say no more,” Gale murmured. He shifted the pile of dishes in his hands before taking Helena’s load as well. “He will be alright, you know.”

              “I know,” Helena sighed, glancing over her shoulder at the archway. “This time of year is just so hard for him.”

              “I imagine it is hard for you too, my love.” Helena looked back at Gale, the concern in his warm brown eyes melting her heart. She simply nodded in response. Gale leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before retreating deeper into the kitchen.

              Helena leaned up against the wall, straining to hear the conversation at the dining table. It was very quiet for a moment. Then, Morena spoke.

              “It really is a delight to have you here for the Solstice, Ildan. I am glad you could make the trip.”

              “Yes,” Ildan replied.

              Gale clattered around in the kitchen and Helena heard him mutter the incantation for Mage Hand.

              “So lovely to be with family,” Morena said.

              “Oh. Yes. It is.” Her father’s voice quivered, but he concealed it with a cough. Helena’s heart ached.

              “Helena is such a wonderful addition to our family,” Morena remarked. “I will admit, it has been nice to have another lady to talk with at family gatherings.” More silence. Helena imagined her father sitting perfectly still, eyes glassy and distant. “You raised quite a wonderful young woman, Ildan. You should be proud.”

              “Ah,” Ildan chuckled ruefully, “I wish I could take the credit. Cadenza – my…eh…my late wife – she was the one who really raised Helena. I, eh, simply made sure my girls were fed.” Helena’s stomach twisted into a knot.

              “I see.” Morena paused for a moment. “Gale’s father left us when Gale was twelve. He never much cared for the life of a family man. And I think he was rather envious of Gale’s arcane talents. I started noticing it when Elminster first approached us about Gale’s abilities. It was particularly bad when Gale would come home from Blackstaff Academy to visit for the Winter Solstice. The fights they would have. It was awful. A boy having to defend himself from his own father’s jabs. And why? Mere jealousy?” Morena’s voice tightened and she cleared her throat. “It was hell having to explain to Gale that his father was not home that year. And that he was likely not returning. I don’t think Gale ever truly forgave him.”

              Helena realized that her hands were balled into fists and that her shoulders ached from tension. Her eyes burned and she made a mental note to shower Gale with praise and affection when they returned to their bed chambers for the evening.

              “I’m terribly sorry you had to go through that, Morena,” Ildan murmured. “Gale is a fine, upstanding man. I couldn’t have imagined a better husband for my daughter. And I’ve not met a finer wizard in all my years. Sometimes the knowledge he possesses about the Weave leaves me speechless.” He let out a laugh. “And, though this may be surprising given my reservation this evening, that is not a common occurrence.”

              Morena also laughed, a joyful and warm sound.

              “Thank you. But I do not share this with you merely to speak highly of my son. Gods know he can do that himself quite well enough. I tell you all this because you need to know just how much you have been there for Helena. You supported her through her training as a cleric and you support her now still. You sing her praises and the pride you wear on your face when you speak of her is obvious. You say all you did was ‘make sure your girls were fed.’ But I think you sell yourself short, Ildan. It is true that Helena was fortunate to have her mother. But she was also fortunate to have you, too. And not every child has that good fortune.”

              Tears brimmed Helena’s eyes and she leaned around the corner of the archway to peer into the dining room. Morena had reached across the table and rested her hand on top of her father’s and her smile was overflowing with kindness. Ildan swallowed before resting his other hand on top of Morena’s.

              “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice shaking. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, trailing down his cheek.

              Helena’s heart pounded in her chest as she turned and sped deeper into the kitchen. Gale was standing at the washbasin with a tea towel, busily drying the dishes that his Mage Hand was dunking in the soapy water. As she approached, he looked up from his work and smiled at her.

              “Almost done, my love! Then, it should be time to bring out the Solstice pudding, I imagine. I did add a little more rum this year, so be sure to tell me if you enjoy –”

              She cut him off by pressing her lips to his, cradling his face in her hands. He grunted with surprise, but eagerly accepted the kiss, setting the towel down on the counter and wrapping his arms around her waist. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer. They held each other for a few moments before slowly breaking apart.

              “Well!” Gale chuckled breathlessly, leaning his forehead against hers. “Remind me to take on dish duty more often.”

First Entry: First Night

I’m alive. For the most part. I have a few moments to write this all down in case I need to look back.

I was kidnapped by Mind Flayers. Never thought I’d say that in my life.

We were on a ship. A Nautiloid, Shadowheart called it. We managed to escape but not before I was infected with their tadpole. Disgusting creature. Like a blood-sucking vampire but eats your brains instead of drinking blood.

Ugh. Just thinking about it gives me the willies.

I’ve found some survivors after the crash. Shadowheart, Astarion, and fucking Gale of Waterdeep. Never thought I’d hear his name again, let alone meet him. Seems pleasant. He runs his mouth like he’s teaching a class, as I thought he might. I just hope he’s not another Mystra freak.

Meeting Astarion was equally strange. Idiot asks for help then pulls a blade to my throat. No matter. I gave him a good headbutt to knock some sense into him. Didn’t share much about himself, only that he’s from Baldur’s Gate, but by his clothes I can tell he’s from the Upper City.

Shadowheart is also from Baldur’s Gate, though she shared even less about herself. Except that she was on a mission when the Nautiloid took her. Also commented that resting was a stupid idea. I have to agree. We need someone who knows more about these parasites. Gale explained to me a bit more what being infected means.

Death.

Death is the inevitable end. Even now my eye aches. I feel it squirming behind my socket. Every time I blink I feel pressure. I had the mind to pluck my eye out. Grit my teeth and force myself to extract it with my dagger and all would be well again. But every time I lift my dagger anywhere near my face the pain becomes overwhelming.

We need to find a cure.

This is only the first night, but the stress of having companions for the journey is heavy. I’m now responsible for them.

There was another who was on the Nautiloid. A githyanki. I’m not sure where she’s gone or if she survived the crash. I’m sure we’ll find more survivors in our travels.

Astarion and Shadowheart said they’re from Baldur’s Gate. I suspect we can find healing there.

Second Entry