#vtf

But when she rolled over in the bed and pulled the blanket tighter around her to fight off the bitter cold of the coastal breeze, she opened her eyes for a moment. There in the moon-gray dark of the night she found a room she was not at all familiar with. 

She scanned the room in a half-awoken state, not thinking any real thoughts–more like bursts of impulse between the undulating waves of sleep that threatened to take her away in their churn. 

She saw the usual desk. The privacy drape. The almost melted candle. Her waistcoat had been taken off and neatly folded, set on the writing desk. Her bloodied boots sat in a pile not far away from there; her gloves tossed down with them, also bloodied.. This room wasn’t her room…so what…ah–that’s right. 

She’d been so exhausted she didn’t feel herself drift off to sleep. Gale had been carrying her on his back. Where was he? 

Another breeze blew into the room and set her teeth to chattering. Gods above, how was it colder here than at The Nest?

She rose to her bare feet, keeping the blanket tight around her as she shuffled over to the desk. 

She knew very few spells, of course. And most of them, she only knew with very little command–but there was one she was decent at, because she used it nearly every day. She could produce a flame.

Nothing terribly impressive, mind you–but it was more convenient than having to ask the ArchLibrarian for matches; more convenient than having him ask her why she was going through so many of them and finding out that she’d been sneaking books into her room to read while the others slept. 

She breathed into her cold hands before shaking them, encouraging her blood flow into her fingertips. After giving her hands a few moments to catch up with the rest of her, she focused on the fingertips of her dominant hand, she took a deep breath and plucked at the same little flicker of magic she always used for this little party trick. She snapped her fingers, and sure enough, a single flame engulfed the farthest knuckle of her index finger, as if her two middle fingers had been a flint struck by her thumb. 

She lowered that finger to the wick of the single candle in the room before shaking the flame off her fingertip the same way one might do with a matchstick. 

It was hardly enough light for human eyes, but Elinna didn’t need much. She’d been lucky to pick up darkvision from her half-drow lineage; an appreciated perk despite how much she hated the violet tinge of her scars and freckles. 

She caught a glimpse of those old scars on the inside of her arm and wondered idly if Gale had seen them. Wondered if he’d made any judgements of her based off of them.

The doorknob jangled and turned and Gale appeared in the doorway. Elinna looked over at him and was surprised at the flood of relief that filled her lungs. She hadn’t realized she was worried that he’d left her there and gone off on his own, but that was the only explanation she had for the shift in her sense of ease. 

He was holding two tin plates with porridge, boiled fish, and roasted carrots piled in small, tidy quantities. They met eyes and Gale’s eye’s flicked about her. 

“Oh–you’re awake,” Gale said, voice a bit choked with something she couldn’t identify.. “Are you feeling better?”

“Is your…hair wet?” she asked him. 

He was newly dressed in a similar robe to before, but this one was slightly different. It had a shorter length with a more open panel in the front. He was wearing some more sturdy leather boots as well, and he had a new multi-layered belt with a knife and short sword holstered to it. He carried two small packs over one shoulder, which he dropped onto the ground near the desk. 

“Oh, ah, yes,” he said, hurrying over to the writing desk to set down the plates. The scent of lavender and bay leaf rolled off of his warmer body with him in such close proximity.  “I went to refresh myself and see if I couldn’t conjure a few comforts to get us through the night. While searching, I happened to find a natural hot spring.”

“You’re kidding!” she said, feeling a swell of relief all over again. Not only would she get to have a bath but a warm bath? What a treat. “You have to show me where it is! I’m dying for a hot bath.”

“It’s not far–just a hop and a skip behind the–”

A click sounded from the door and they both looked toward it. Gale’s brow tensed before he walked back over to the door, testing the knob. A willowy voice came through the door a moment later. 

“Seeing as supper has been served and your lodgings are in order, we will be locking the door to prevent any unfortunate mishaps through the night,” it said. 

“Absolutely not–we’re guests, not prisoners!” Gale shouted through the door. “Unlock this door right now.”

There was no answer. 

“Open the door!” Gale demanded again. 

“Don’t bother,” Elinna sighed. “He’s probably already gone–don’t you have a spell that could unlock it?”

“Under other circumstances, but I’m afraid my capacity to reach into the weave is utterly tapped out until I get a proper night of sleep,” he said a bit sourly. “How did you ever put up with conditions like this?” Gale griped, turning to her, his brow still furrowed. “I’ve never met such learned men who were so…so…asinine.”

Elinna shrugged and leaned against the edge of the desk, her ample hips displacing one of the unfortunate looking plates. “You get used to it, I guess,” she said. “They never locked us in when I was at The Nest, but we also never really got visitors…maybe it’s standard protocol.”

“You’d think they had Karsus’s Grimoire locked up in their archives,” he said, smearing a hand down his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

While Gale had his conniption, Elinna was realizing with no shortage of disappointment that her hopes for a hot bath were all but dashed. Unless…

“Hey Gale…” She said as looked over toward the bath with a little pout. “I know you said you’re tapped out…but do you think you have the energy for a little cantrip?”

“Probably,” he said, looking skeptically at the plate of food and pushing the boiled fish with one of the wooden utensils given to them. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…do  you think you could conjure up some hot water for me to take a bath?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, what?” Gale said as he blinked, his brows shooting up. “With me in the room?”

“Please,” she begged gently. “I feel so disgusting. If I have to sleep like this while you’re sitting in here looking all sparkly and smelling nice, I’m going to feel even worse.”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “Elinna, you shouldn’t take baths with strange men you just met. Er–rather–with them nearby.”

“You’re not strange! You’re Gale Dekarios! And there are drapes for privacy,” she said insistently. “It’s not like I’ll be putting on a show for you or something.” 

“A Drape! Singular! And it’s holding onto its sorry, threadbare life by a thread!”

“Gale, what else am I supposed to do?” she asked. “I’m still covered in blood and sweat–I need a bath.”

“You can wait until tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll have our very bland supper–get some sleep, and–”

He met her eyes again and she wasn’t sure what he saw there, but whatever it was it seemed to pull on his heart strings. He rubbed the back of his neck before using the same hand to smear down his face. 

“Fine,” he said. “I got my chance to clean up, it seems only fair that you get yours. I can only imagine how wrong it feels with myself being properly tidied up and you still…well… I must emphasize, however, that this falls squarely outside of the usual confines of propriety.”

Elinna beamed and nodded eagerly, thankfully.

“Duly noted,” Elinna said. “I promise I won’t tell your mother.”

He leveled her a deadpan look. “Don’t patronize me,” he said. “It’s not about being afraid of my mother it’s–”

“I’m just teasing you,” Elinna said. “Don’t worry, Gale. I trust you to be a gentleman. And besides that–I’m pretty sure that you don’t see me as…well– I just mean–it’s not as if I’m trying to seduce you. If I thought at all that I was a temptation to you, I promise, I would wait until tomorrow.”

“Of course,” he agreed quickly. 

“I’ll be quick,” she said. “I promise.”

Gale heaved a sigh and picked up the other plate, handing it over to her.

“Let’s eat this unfortunate meal and then I’ll get your bath ready,” he said. “It looks utterly inedible, but we’ll need whatever strength we can get for the journey tomorrow.”

She smiled and nodded, taking a bite of the familiar mush on her plate.

A Temptation

Gale had always been told that hunger was the best seasoning–he supposed that didn’t apply to the fare served at The Scribe’s Guild. Yet he choked down every bite of those roasted carrots; that boiled fish–in hopes of prolonging the inevitable. 

If I thought at all that I was a temptation to you, I promise, I would wait until tomorrow.

Why hadn’t he spoken up then? Why hadn’t he argued with her further?

Well, likely because, in order for him to object to what she’d said, he would have to admit his own embarrassing thoughts of attraction to the young woman. Admit that he had been having plenty of improprietous thoughts about her as he had her hoisted up on his back–when his hand had supported the softness of her waist.

He told himself it was a strategic move. That he needed her in order to safeguard against what might be catastrophic down the road. The true resurrection in his possession would do little good without someone available to cast it, after all. He needed an ally and he wouldn't risk losing one because he was touch starved and lonesome and…er… long deprived.

He told himself that the sooner she bathed, the sooner she would be properly dressed. The less he would have to remind himself to look away from the delicate skin of her chest and the way the neckline of her muslin dress fell off her shoulders despite the number of times she pushed her sleeves back up where it was meant to sit. 

Now that he thought about it–very little of her clothing seemed to fit properly. Her waistcoat fit well enough, but her dress was oddly loose; she seemed to swim in it. 

He was glad he’d been able to find something for her to wear, hoped that they fit properly and that she didn’t mind wearing Mystra’s colors–and slightly outdated fashions. Then again, he doubted The Nest cared much about the current trends in women’s clothing. 

When they were finally finished eating, Gale begrudgingly prepared a hot bath for Elinna, the act simple, really–even with the majority of his energy spent. It was a simple enough process and, if he was honest, seeing her face brighten when it was done was almost enough to make it worth the discomfort of feeling like a rakish cad. He conjured some light in the room to make it look more like a lodging and less like they were thieves sneaking around by candlelight.

She was practically buzzing with excitement to get in, so he leaned over and handed her the smaller of the two packs he’d put together. 

“I put a change of clothes in here, I think it should fit, but let me know if it doesn’t,” he said. 

“Oh! You…just have women’s clothes laying around?” she asked.

He gave her a withering look. “It sounds awful when you say it like that. No, not just lying around. It’s an old gift from…a friend. It’s one of the old cleric robes that followers of Mystra used to wear.”

“Really?” Elinna said, green eyes widening. 

“Don’t get too excited,” he said. “Any imbued magic is, unfortunately, long gone. But it should be a little nicer than the leathers and canvases you’ve been wearing. They don’t seem well suited for travel…”

A lie, of course. Aside from Elinna’s boots, her clothing was more than suitable enough for traveling. But the longer he’d thought about the scars on the delicate skin of her wrist and forearm, the more his stomach churned at the idea of her putting those garments back on. 

He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much, but it did. It still did–even while she was dressed down to her tan dress and leather trousers; even as she barely looked like she belonged to the strange order that was putting them up for the night. 

He was still trying to figure it out as she hurried behind the privacy curtain and started to undress. 

He wouldn’t have known she was undressing–except the lighting he’d created in the room was just placed well enough that her shadow cast against the threadbare drape as she pulled her muslin dress up and over her head. The light caught the softness of her waist, the gentle, sloping curve of her breast before it peaked at her nipple.

He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her. He would just need to distract himself. 

He told himself it wasn’t Elinna in particular that was pulling this silly desire out of him; that if could have been any member of the fairer sex that had this effect on him. Elinna just happened to be the convenient, ever present option. 

He insisted that had to be the case as he heard the quiet slosh of Elinna stepping into the hot water and heaving out a comforted sigh. He took a book out of his pack to distract himself from imagining what she looked like flushed across her shoulders and her chest from the hot bath water. He glared down at his book about foraging in the wild as he tried not to wonder if the comforted sounds she made in the bath would be the same if she were touched in just the right places. 

“So–shall we get to know each other better?” Elinna asked from her bath. 

Gale nearly jumped out of his skin, teeth grinding. 

“Elinna, don’t speak to me while you’re bathing,” he said, his tone clipped. 

“Why not?” she asked him. 

He heaved a sigh while bunting the heel of his hand against his forehead. Mystra grant him strength. “Elinna, I don’t want to be an ass, but are you so far removed from civilization that you can’t glean why it’s not appropriate for a bathing woman to be holding casual conversation with a man?”

There was a moment of silence, the sound of water being poured, the faint trickle of movement in the tub. “I mean–not that far removed, no,” she said. “I used to sing in the taverns back in Moonshae. Plenty a drunken man has told me what parts of me he wanted to see and well…they weren't my eyes, let me just say that.”

“So then why the play at naivety?” Gale asked, resisting the urge to turn toward her. “You clearly know why it could be a problem to talk to a man while you’re nude. The…intimacy of it.”

“I suppose I just…thought you were above such things,” she said. “I just thought that our unique circumstances lent themselves to bending the rules of propriety just a bit.”

Gale sighed. She was right–he should be able to act with a little more decorum than the drunks at the taverns. He should be able to extract a more distilled version of his maturity and be able to speak to a young woman without thinking so much about the shape of her body and what it would be like to feel it under his hands. 

“Gale?” she asked. “Are you angry?”

“No,” he said, turning a page in the book he was reading without really seeing it. “Sorry, it’s just been a while since I’ve had such constant company. Most of the time it was just me and my tressym, Tara. She was stimulating company to be sure, but it’s been a while since I’ve had more human companionship. I admit I’m not used to it.”

“I’ve never really had it,” she said. “I guess that’s why I’m so keen to fill the silence. It’s hard not to be excited to have a friend.”

“A friend…” he said, repeating that word again. It was the second time she’d called him that since they’d met. 

“Oh–” she said, her voice getting smaller. “I suppose that is a bit presumptive…I’ve done it a couple times already, too. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Gale said. “If I’m honest–I just feel a bit guilty because I’ve hardly been a good friend to you. It doesn’t feel like I’ve earned the title.”

“You’ve been a splendid friend–perhaps not at our first meeting, but every moment since,” she said. “You tried your best to keep me safe from the Nautiloid even though you barely knew me. And then you offered to accompany me to try and figure out what to do about these parasites…”

“To be fair, you’ve been a great help to me, as well,” he said. “You helped me out of that pocket realm and found this place; got us room and board for the night.”

“That’s what friends do,” Elinna said easily. 

“Elinna,” he said. “Since we’re friends…can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure,” she said. 

“Those scars on the inside of your wrist–”

There was an abrupt sound of something heavy plunking into the water, like she’d dropped her hands into the tub to hide the scars he’d mentioned. 

“I don’t have to ask about them if you’d rather not talk about it,” he said. “I’m not trying to pry, or to bring up something painful…”

“No, it’s okay. I suppose it’s only fair that I be honest about it if we’re going to be traveling together,” she said. “Mm–what’s your question about them?”

“Did your caretakers at The Nest do that to you?” he asked. 

“Tney did,” she said. “A long time ago, the ArchLibrarian at The Nest wasn’t very kind. When I was six and he was teaching me how to read, he used it as a method to deter me from failing.”

“Hells,” Gale said under his breath. “I can only imagine how well that worked…”

He heard her laugh a little and for some reason it hurt his heart. “Not terribly well,” she admitted. “But I needed to learn to read in order to be able to return the archives to their homes on the shelves. That was when I started sneaking literature into my room at night, so I could practice reading on my own.”

“Did the punishments stop after that?” Gale asked. 

“Well–that particular ArchLibrarian died and a new one took over,” she said. “So the caning stopped, but other punishments took its place. Sometimes I’d be sent to bed without supper, or if I really made an error I’d be tasked with handling the rats and spiders in the cellars. It only took one bout of paralysis for me to do everything I could to avoid that particular punishment.”

“How did you make it out of there with all of the…earnest fervor you have? If I was in such a situation, I feel like I would have disappeared within myself.”

“You see my overcoat out there?” Elinna asked. 

“Yes.”

“If you open the breast pocket there’s a little locket inside.”

Gale hesitated for a moment, feeling odd about rifling through her things, but he finally carefully looked through the folds of canvas and leather until he found the piece of jewelry. 

It was a lovely, delicate little thing. It was about the size of a gold piece and fastened to a velvet choker that was worn threadbare in some places. It had been handled a lot, almost like someone had rubbed their thumb against the plush fabric habitually. The pendant was a dark metal with almost a violet sheen to it. There was a thin sliver of a crescent moon on it with a couple sitting on it as if it were a hammock, cradling a child between them. 

Elinna’s name was written in Drowic on the seam of the locket. 

“It’s imbued with drow magic,” Gale said. 

“Mhmn,” she responded. “Powerful stuff, too. I’ve never been able to find someone to open it. That locket is the last thing my mother gave me before leaving me on the steps of The Nest.”

“Why not just find a wizard to do it for you?” Gale asked. 

“I tried to,” she said. “But the last one I spoke to told me it may have some sort of bond with my blood–that I’d have to be the one to open it.”

Gale examined the piece a little closer, feeling out the weave and the threads of magic, following their winding paths. 

Whomever Elinna had spoken to had spoken true, the threads all coalesced on her. Any wizard worth his salt would know that trying to manipulate that magic might destroy the item all together. 

“Do you think your mother was a wizard?” Gale asked. 

“I don’t know,” Elinna said. “I think I’ve just always hoped that if I could get it open, I could find where I really belong.”

The orb in Gale’s chest reached out for the thrumming weave in Elinna’s locket. He rubbed his free hand over his chest where the bundle of magic growled for the item, as if a bit of petting could soothe the burning hunger there. 

Not this one, he told the netherese shred of magic in his chest, just a bit longer and I’ll get you something we can use.

“So that’s why you came looking for a teacher,” he said. “And why you wouldn’t settle for someone who could teach you simple folk magic or healing magic.”

“Yes,” she said. “And why I was hesitant about your offer to introduce me to another teacher…but…well beggars, choosers.”

Gale heard her take in a deep breath and then a small splash as Elinna dipped beneath the surface of the water. While she soaked out of earshot, he carefully put the locket beneath layers of fabric, careful not to leave it out for the sun to get to it and hurt the magic sourced from the underdark. 

He was having a hard time not getting distracted by this girl. This was always his plight; he was always far too empathetic to deal with stories like Elinna’s. He was a bleeding heart for people who were unlucky and downtrodden–people who were alone in life and had no one to encourage them. 

Gale had the sudden wish to take her back to Waterdeep–to introduce her to his mother who somehow always had extra love to spare. It wouldn’t have been the first time his mother made up for a lack of love in one of his friends’ lives, but Elinna perhaps deserved it more than anyone else. 

He heard Elinna resurface and heave out a sigh before starting to get out of the tub. 

“Done already?” he asked. 

“I promised I would go quick,” she said. “Besides, it feels strange to talk to you without looking at you.”

He focused down on his book as he listened to the faint shift and twinkle of the clothes he’d fetched for her. He heard the faint little grunt as she dressed, the sound of belts being unbuckled and buckled once more, and then she came around the privacy drape, newly clothed. 

Her amber hair fell in damp ribbons down past her waist, her face was faintly flushed with the warmth from the bath. She looked comfortable and at ease in her new clothes, though he somewhat regretted the reminder of Mystra on the tapered ends of her skirt and the collar of the leather padding. 

“Feel better?” he asked. 

“Oh, so much better,” she said with a soft breath. “The clothes are a bit tight but…I also don’t have many clothes that properly fit me. Does it look okay?”

She turned this way and that. 

The truth was, she looked fetching in it. The greens and tans of the Scribe’s Guild livery may have done more for the verdant quality of her eyes, but the pale violets and ashen chainmail of the cleric’s robes made the color of her coppery hair all the more vibrant, and paired nicely with the almost mauve quality to her freckles. 

He chose not to think of the ways the openings of the skirt cleared a path all the way up to her thigh, and thought even less on how well the lines of her violet trousers followed the full curve of said thigh. 

“It fits you like a glove,” Gale finally said. “Nothing looks too tight from where I’m sitting. 

She smiled at him and heaved a happy breath. “Thank you again for giving me something new to wear,” she said. “It feels good to be clean again. I was worried I’d be stuck in blood stained clothes.”

“Happy to help,” he said with a pressed smile. “When I have a bit more energy, I’ll get some more comfortable lounging clothes for you to wear so you don’t have to sleep in armor.”

“It’s not so bad,” she said. “At least, I can put up with it for now–probably better to be safe than sorry anyway.”

“You should never underestimate the importance of a good night’s rest,” Gale said. 

“Speaking of which, you should probably get to bed, don’t you think?” she suggested. 

“Me?” he asked. “No, I meant you.”

“I’ve already gotten some sleep, I’ll remind you–you on the other hand, have not,” she said. “And besides, there’s only one bed.”

“I’ll sleep on a bedroll on the floor,” he said. “You take the bed.”

“I’m not tired,” she said. 

“First of all, yes you are, I can see it in your face. Second of all, this is likely the last full night of sleep we’ll get for a while, considering soon enough we will have to take turns keeping watch. So you take the bed.”

“I think I may be able to out-last you,” she said. 

“Do not,” Gale said. “Make this a competition.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll lose?” she teased. 

“Afraid neither of us will get the sleep we need because I’m terribly competitive. My mother won’t even look at a lanceboard anymore,” he said. 

She laughed and the sound brushed up against some long forgotten impulse in the back of his mind–one he’d put away a long time ago. 

“Okay, fine,” she said. “I’ll take the bed, but I still haven’t gotten much of a chance to get to know you better–you already have a full catalog of my childhood and all of the piteous stories that go along with it.”

She walked over to the bed and sat back down on it. 

“Lie down and I promise to tell you all about my childhood–though I’m afraid it’s not nearly as tragic as yours….it may feel more like I’m bragging, actually,” Gale said. 

“Hmm,” she said. “I think I can put up with a bit of bragging. I like listening to you talk.”

She laid herself down on the bed and turned onto her side to look at him, folding her arm under her head to use as a makeshift pillow. “Regale me,” she said. “No pun intended.”

He barked a soft laugh. “Careful with telling a man like me that you enjoy listening to me talk,” he said. “I’ll take far too much advantage of something like that.”

“I do, though,” she said. “After a life spent in a library, you can’t blame me for enjoying the simple pleasure of a good conversation.”

“Well–there will be no shortage of good conversation with me,” he said. “The only thing I’m better at than magic is talking–gratuitously.”

She chuckled and his heart fluttered a little as she looked at him with sleepy eyes. He got started talking before he let his mind drift to the last time a woman looked at him like that and what activities may have preceded or followed that look.. 

He told her about his youth–about how he was such a gifted young wizard that he’d caught the attention of Elminster, and then Mystra herself. He left out the part about taking Mystra as a lover. He skipped his inevitable folly and luckily, by the time he got to that part of his story, Elinna had already started gently dozing off between sounds of acknowledgement in regards to what he was saying. 

With time, her quiet mhmn’s and uh-huh’s ceased and he was almost certain that she was crossing the threshold into a proper, restful sleep. 

He swapped from talking about himself to reading out of the foraging book to fill the quiet room so that she didn’t automatically wake in the new silence that took the place of his prattling. When her breaths became slow and steady, though, he set the book aside and got his bedroll ready for the floor. 

He’d be feeling the ache in his bones the next day, of course, but it was only what could be considered right for their sleeping arrangements. An older man shouldn’t share a bed with a young woman–least of all one he’d spent the better part of a day trying not to have improper thoughts about.

He dropped his concentration on his light evocations and sent a little gust of air to blow out the candle that more resembled a pool of melted tallow. His bedroll was close enough to the bed that he could hear Elinna’s rhythmic inhalations and exhalations. He looked outside as the moon hovered. Far away, he could hear the hush of waves crashing on the shore and for a moment he almost felt like he was back at home. 

He closed his eyes and let himself imagine that he was laid in bed with Tara curled up next to him and the promise of a warm cup of tea in the very near future. 

He couldn’t decide, however, if he was quite as homesick as he should be. 

As he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but admit to himself that it was nice to have the warm presence of another person near him. He couldn’t help but admit that he had missed the closeness of another body–the camaraderie of a shared experience, however terrible this one had turned out to be. 

He still held the locket in his hand, the delicate face of it slightly ajar as Elinna stared at it. 

She was rendered speechless, and Gale found himself unsure of what to do.

He understood what she’d meant when she’d called her mother a figment; understood that Elinna was letting go of the possibility of ever knowing what her mother had intended for her life when she offered him the magic within the locket. 

But now that locket was open, and whatever lay hidden in the shadowy interior was now available to her. All there was left to do was open it. 

But Elinna…she was just staring at it. Part of him wanted to simply open it for her, but he knew that was curiosity spurring him on and not necessarily what was best for Elinna in this moment. 

“Elinna,” Gale finally said, willing patience into his voice. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Her eyes went to his, wide and frightened. 

“It’s open,” she said. 

He nodded. “It is.”

“But it opened after you drained the magic of it?” she asked. 

“It appears so–the magic inside of it was what kept it locked, I assume,” he said. “Do you not wish to see what lies within?”

“What if–what if they’re instructions for how to use the magic you just consumed?” she asked. “What if they reveal a path I can no longer take?”

“What if they don’t?” Gale asked. “What if it’s a portrait of your mother?”

He hoped it was something more like that. The guilt he would feel if he’d taken away the last chance of Elinna to have found her family…he didn’t know if he could carry it. 

Elinna lifted her thumb to her mouth, chewing at her nail for a moment. He watched her face again, the gentle creases in her brow as she lost herself in thought, staring at the locket. Gale simply held still, letting Elinna process. 

Finally, she gave a shaky exhale and reached for the locket, taking it gingerly into her hands. 

“I’m sorry–” she said with a humorless laugh. “I said all those things about being ready to lay this journey to rest and now I’m having a crisis. It must be making you feel wretched.”

Gale shook his head. “You have no reason to apologize,” he said. “I just want to be here for you, whether you decide to look inside or discard the locket altogether.”

Gale’s heart warmed as Elinna’s shoulders faintly dropped and she heaved out a little exhale of relief. 

He really had forgotten how nice it felt to be needed–for his presence to matter to someone in the world aside from Tara and his mother. 

Perhaps he had more in common with Elinna than he originally realized.

Finally Elinna looked down at the object in her hand, biting down on her lower lip. 

“I think…I think I need to open it,” she said in a quiet voice. 

Gale nodded. “I’m right here, Elinna,” he said softly. 

Gale’s heart squeezed again as she let out a soothed breath and nodded. 

She slipped the locket open and peered inside. 

*** 

Underneath Gale and Elinna, lounging near the hexblood viol player that had resumed their music after they’d left, Halsin, Briar and Astarion all sat, drinking from tankards and wine glasses. 

Astarion lazily let his head drop back to look at where the wizard had rushed to catch the girl before she had a nasty tumble down the stairs. Astarion huffed out a little sound as he looked to the bard on the stage once more and griped, “What do you suppose they’re doing up there? They’ve been gone an awful long time.”

Briar sat on a tall barstool, their legs kicking where they hung in the air with their shorter stature. They looked up at the ceiling as if they could see through it and into the room they’d paid for at the inn. They gave a little shrug. 

“Maybe he’s getting her situated back in bed,” they offered. 

“I still think it’s strange–they seem very close for two people who aren’t lovers,” Halsin said, placing his chin in his hand. “Perhaps Gale is confessing matters of the heart.”

“What is this, primary school?” Astarion asked with a scoff. “They’re probably just up there engaging in some heavy petting like any normal adult should be.”

Briar quirked an eyebrow at Astarion. “Halsin confessed his feelings for me before we shared a bed,” they said. “Not everyone is as jaded as you.”

Astarion looked between the two of them with an assessing gaze, taking in their size difference. After seeming satisfied in his assessment, he let out a little chortle of delight

“Oh, you’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” Astarion said to Briar, eyes narrowing on them. “How do you even make him fit?”

Briar’s eyes narrowed as they gave the vampire a wry smirk. “And why would I tell you that? You don’t even deserve to imagine it as far as I’m concerned,” they said. “You’ll have to conjure your own fantasies to synchronize your cold, sad, little hand to, I’m afraid.”

Halsin was halfway through a sip of his honey mead when Briar said this and the unexpected vulgarity had him sputtering into his tankard before being seized by a coughing fit. 

Astarion barked a delighted laugh, not at all offended. He seemed to enjoy the opportunity to banter with someone. 

“Please,” Astarion said as he took in a breath and sighed. “I could have the little half-drow if I wished. She was like putty in my hands before. Don’t offend me just because you lack taste.”

“Was that before or after you nearly got her killed?” Halsin asked dryly.

“Lack taste?!” Briar griped over the end of Halsin’s sentence. They gestured with an open hand at their partner. “Have you seen this man?!”

“Technically speaking, it was she who nearly got me killed, thank you very much. Secondly, yes I have seen him, the question is have you seen me?” he said. “And Elinna will forgive me eventually, I’m sure.”

Briar rolled their eyes. “Such arrogance,” they said. 

“You say arrogance, I say charm and wit and social graces,” Astarion tutted as he took another sip from his wine. “Eugh, this wine is about as robust as horse piss.”

“You’re welcome to pay for something better,” Halsin said flatly, his coin purse already made quite empty enough thanks to his unexpected traveling companions and their need for a warm place to tuck Elinna into sleep. At least the vampire spawn didn’t eat, that helped

Astarion took another deep drink from his wine glass before lifting it in a mock toast. “Horse piss is fine,” he said. 

Briar rolled their eyes once again, looking toward the room as they bored of Astarion’s complaining. 

When they did, their eyes caught a smudge of color on the staircase. Gale descended the stairs a few steps ahead of Elinna, who was now fully dressed. Her amber hair still tumbled in lovely waves down to the middle of her back, still unbrushed, as if she’d gotten dressed in a hurry or perhaps was just too tired to do her full routine for getting ready.

Gale got to the bottom of the steps and offered Elinna a hand as she limped down the last few stairs. Once done making sure she was stable on her boot-clad feet, he scanned the room, meeting Briar’s eyes and giving a nod of acknowledgement.. He was still holding her hand as he pointed with his other to where they were sitting and bantering. 

Her eyes scanned them before landing on Astarion, lounging lazily with his bottle of wine.

Briar watched as per complexion blanched and as she almost turned on her heel to run back upstairs Gale stopped her and speaking to her, cupping her one hand with both of his. They could see the same coaxing care in his face as they once saw in Halsin the first time they met; when he’d saved Briar from those goblin poachers.

“Astarion, why don’t you make yourself scarce for a bit?” Briar said. 

“What?” Astarion asked, looking at Briar. “Why?” he asked as he followed the fox-shifter’s line of sight. 

When he saw Elinna he gave a little pout; the face of someone who knew they were facing the consequences of their choices, but still didn’t want to be. 

“Fiiiiine,” he said, drawing out the word into a sigh. “Let me know when the stray cat will be allowed back in.” 

He got to his feet, and grabbed his cheap wine by the neck of the bottle, looking between the glass and the bottle for a moment before downing the bit of wine left in his glass and, chasing it with a swig straight from the bottle as he wandered outside. 

Halsin looked over his shoulder just as Briar looked back at Elinna. Her shoulders were already dropping and the color was returning to her face. She still seemed a little hesitant as Gale tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her over to the table. 

“Elinna Inklynn, allow me to introduce you to Halsin Silverbough and Briar Larklight. These are the valiant druids who helped me locate you and save you,” Gale said.

Briar gave their friendliest smile to Elinna, which they were relieved to see returned, albeit a little shyly. They watched as Elinna took Halsin in for the first time, seeing as her mouth opened slightly with surprise. 

“Wow,” Elinna said under her breath as she took in Halsin’s height and the muscled mass of his body. 

Halsin’s mouth split into a wide grin before he gave a hearty laugh. “Nice to meet you more officially, Elinna,” he said. “I’m happy to see you back on your feet.”

“Oh, you’re the one who asked me why I was out of bed,” Elinna said. “And the one who carried me.”

“We all took turns carrying you, thank you,” Gale said, playfully affronted. 

“Well Gale and Halsin did,” Briar corrected. “I’m afraid I’m a bit shorter than you and lacking in the necessary muscles to carry you for more than a quick spell.”

“I offered to cast enlarge on you,” Gale said. 

“And I told you I quite like my size,” Briar quipped back. 

“As do I,” Halsin said with a warm smile cast their way, eyes hooded in that private way that Briar knew added an edge of suggestion to the complement. 

Briar pressed their lips slightly in an effort to keep the bronze flush from coming to their face. They looked back at Elinna again, “Astarion was forbidden from helping, considering he was the reason for your ailments.”

“Why are you traveling with him?” Elinna asked. 

“He helped us defeat the spider,” Briar said. “And he shares another ailment with you all.”

Elinna looked at Gale with surprise. “You told them about it?” she asked. 

“Worry not,” Halsin assured her, a broad hand lifting. “We were already on our way to do our own investigation on the nautiloid when we found your traveling companion. You’re not the first I’ve seen with the ailment.”

“So…do you know why we’re still…us…then?” Elinna asked. 

Halsin’s expression sobered a bit. “Admittedly, no,” he said. “But I can at least tell you that you’re not the only ones whose transformation is stalled. It’s an anomaly from anything we’ve ever seen when it comes to…to your ailment.”

Elinna nodded. “I see…and I suppose if you haven’t helped Gale or Astarion…you don’t have a cure for it.”

“Not as of yet,” Halsin said. “But that’s something I hope to figure out in our travels together.”

Briar watched as Elinna looked at Gale with a questioning gaze. Gale looked down at Elinna and gave her a subtle nod. 

Elinna drew a piece of jewelry from her coat and placed it on the table between everyone. 

It appeared to be a locket with a depiction of a couple sitting on a crescent moon, a child cradled between them. It had some Drowic words inscribed on the face of it that Briar couldn’t read. 

“This is a locket that was left with me when I was left at The Scribe’s Guild in Moonshae,” she said. “I’ve never been able to open it until now.”

She gingerly handled the locket, opening it cautiously. Within the locket, on either side, were two hand-painted portraits in miniature. One of a beautiful drow woman with periwinkle-colored skin and white hair, Elinna’s face looked eerily similar to the woman, as if Elinna had been drawn the same way but painted with a different color palette.  

The other portrait was one of a stately-looking human man with a strong nose, a tidy red beard and thick, waving hair to match. Most striking was the green color of his eyes and how similar they were to Elinna’s, though they lacked the curious twinkling present in Elinna’s wide eyes. 

Rolled into a tight, thin scroll was a piece of yellowed parchment about as long as a single digit of Elinna’s fingers. 

She picked up the parchment, unfurling it with some effort as she nibbled on her lower lip. 

“I think these are my parents,” she said. “And there was this paper inside…”

She unfurled the paper, revealing a message written in Undercommon, the language of the inhabitants of the Underdark.

“‘When you get this locket open,’” Elinna read, “‘Come find me in the mushrooms sing.’”

“It’s gobbledygook to me,” Gale said. “I thought our druids might know where singing mushrooms could be found.”

Elinna looked at Briar and they shook their head. “It’s not something I’m familiar with,” they said. “I’ve never heard of a singing mushroom.”

Briar looked at Halsin, expecting him to say the same. But Halsin’s face had grown serious–almost grave. 

“The Fungus Folk,” Halsin said. “Also known as Myconids. They’re quite literally humanoid mushrooms. They operate as a hivemind and their magic comes through the songs they sing.”

“Where can they be found?” Elinna asked. “I’ve never encountered them in any of my reading.”

“They’re a very private society, and are fiercely protective of their own. There are not many who can penetrate their society and learn the finer points and intricacies of their colonies. There is not much to be read about them,” Halsin said. “Their largest colony is in the Lowerdark, the deepest level of the Underdark, beneath even the duegar and the deep gnomes. 

“It’s dangerous there. The Myconid colony may be an oasis of decency–but the darkness we might encounter on the way…” He trailed off for a few moments, seeming to be lost in some thought. He blinked and shook his head, as if shaking it off. “There’s an old adage about the Lower dark–”

“If you think it’s impossible, it’s happening in the Lower Dark,” A haughty voice drawled from behind Elinna.

Briar furrowed their brow. “You’re supposed to be giving us space, Astarion,” they said. 

“Yes, but then I heard you talking about The Lowerdark,” Astarion said. “I didn’t want to miss it.” 

Briar looked at Elinna, seeing her begin to tremble as Astarion drew closer. Halsin stood from his seat, picking Elinna up in one smooth motion and placing her in the chair he’d just vacated, as if she weighed nothing. He put his massive body between Elinna and the vampire spawn. 

Astarion clicked his tongue. “Oh come on,” he complained. “I’m not feral.”

“And she’s supposed to know that, how?” Gale snipped. “I’ll remind you of your less-than glowing first impression on her.”

“Such dramatics,” Astarion sighed. “It was a little nibble. And she enjoyed it. Most people do.” 

Elinna’s face flushed scarlet as she fiddled with her hands in her lap. Seeing her shrink was enough to reignite Briar’s irritation with the pale elf. They were about to tell the bastard to go outside again when Elinna’s trembling voice rose from behind Halsin. 

“Y-you’ve been to The Lowerdark?” she asked. 

Briar’s brows rose with surprise, and judging by Halsin’s glance over his muscled shoulder, he’d been surprised too. 

The girl was clearly terrified, but so determined to learn the truth about her parents that she would speak to him anyway. The only one who didn’t seem surprised by Elinna’s bravery and curiosity was her traveling companion, the wizard. 

Who was still staring Astarion down with an unimpressed glower.

She seemed to note the surprise on Briar’s and Halsin’s faces. She shrunk a bit more into herself, looking a bit embarrassed. 

“It’s easy to be a bit brave when you’re protected by a giant elf,” she mumbled. 

Briar was relieved to see the warmth return to Halsin’s expression as he let out a little chuckle. “Glad to make you feel a bit more comfortable, young one,” he said. 

“To answer your question,” Astarion said, sounding almost annoyed at Halsin’s interruption. “Yes. I’ve been to The Lowerdark dozens of times. One of Cazador’s favorite places to…frollic…as it were.”

“Cazador?” Gale asked. “Pray tell, who is that?”

“My…ehm…superior,” Astarion said, doing his best to maintain discretion in the crowded inn. There was no telling who was listening, after all. “He liked to bring us along–like a bottle of wine to a dinner party; meaning he brought us not for our own enjoyment, but for the enjoyment of the other guests attending.” Astarion took another swig from his wine bottle. “It’d be nice to participate in the debauchery for once, instead of being devoured by it.”

“I can’t recommend going to The Lowerdark,” Halsin said. “It’s a terrible place.”

“I have to go,” Elinna said, her voice suddenly steady; determined. “My mother is there. She wants me to find her.”

“How long have you had that locket?” Briar asked. “You said it was left with you when you were a baby.”

“I’m twenty and eight if that’s what you’re asking,” Elinna said, a defensive edge coming to her words. 

“It’s probable she’s long dead by now,” Astarion said with a shrug. “Best to put it out of your mind.”

“We do have other matters to address,” Gale said with a diplomatic tilt of his head. “Some unwanted guests in the ocular region and all of that. Elinna, I’m sure that if she’s waited this long, she can wait a few more days.”

“You’d ask me to postpone fulfilling a wish I’ve had my entire life?” Elinna retorted. 

“Elinna, you just said to me yourself that your mother is a figment–” Gale stopped short when Elinna’s eyes widened with urgency–as if he had shared something she didn’t want the rest of them to know. 

Her face flushed slightly as she looked down at the table and spoke in a quiet calm. 

“I’m going to The Lowerdark,” her voice grew a little louder–almost awkward sounding as she made her demands– as if she were a child learning to stand up for herself for the first time “You can join me or not, but I am going.”

For just a moment, Elinna looked so very much like her father, her brow creasing in the very same places his did; her mouth set in a similar line.

“Elinna…” Gale said, measuredly. “I think perhaps we should get some food in you and let you have a bit more rest–”

“Don’t patronize me Gale,” Elinna said, her voice trembling and breaking. Not with fear, this time, but with uncompromising, desperate will. With the frustration of someone who wasn’t being understood.  “This isn’t some silly, girlish day dream. I could find my mother—possibly alive!” 

“Elinna, the Underdark—especially The Lowerdark—is not like it is up here. There are dangers everywhere,” Halsin said. “The very plantlife down there can be deadly, there are slavers and politics we can’t understand and–”

“And you can’t protect yourself. You’ve already failed the test with me,” Astarion interrupted, his tone much less kind than the others. “You’ll be a liability to all of us down there and I’m not going to let you put my life on the line again.”

“Me? Putting your life on the line?! Do you not hear yourself when you speak?” Elinna asked. “And I wasn’t asking you. I wasn’t asking any of you.”

Halsin placed a hand on Elinna’s shoulder, exuding that calm wisdom he seemed to always carry around in his back pocket. “Elinna, you are still healing. As someone whose family is long gone, please know that I understand your plight. Your mother has waited twenty eight years for you to get this message, she can wait a little while longer—until you can hold your own in a fight.” 

“I would know how to fight if someone would just teach me!” Elinna said, exasperation flashing in her face. 

“I suppose that’s aimed at me?” Gale asked. 

“It’s aimed at everyone,” Elinna growled. “When I was at The Nest, the scribes trusted me with nothing. When I came to you seeking help, you called me a presumptuous upstart!”

Gale cringed slightly. “I’d hoped that particular bit of nastiness would have fogged over with the rest of the memories from a few days ago.”

“You’re a seven foot tall elf!!” Elinna said to Halsin. “You’re built like the gods damned walls of Baldur’s gate.” She pointed an angry finger at Astarion. “You could teach me how to work with knives, I saw how skilled you were with them.”

“Oh, thank you,” Astarion said, placing a hand on his chest and giving a genuinely pleased smile. 

“You’re an excellent tracker! You could teach me those things–you’re small like me and you could teach me how to avoid trouble instead of trying to wrestle it into submission. 

“I just want someone; anyone to have some faith in my abilities for once,” she said, her eyes filling up with glistening tears. 

“Elinna, don’t cry,” Gale pleaded, his voice plantive. “Don’t be sad.”

“I’m not sad!” Elinna said as those tears fell onto her face. “I’m…I’m… fucking angry!” 

Astarion gasped. 

“Oh, such language!”

“That’s what I mean!” Elinna said. “This patronizing tone, the way you all think I’m too weak to take it.”

Elinna pulled up her sleeve, revealing the ladder of caning scars on the sensitive skin on the inside of her forearm. “I can take pain,” she cried. “I can be strong. I just need for someone to show me how!”

Halsin’s hand tightened slightly on her shoulder, squeezing her encouragingly. 

“Just because you can take pain; just because you can be strong, doesn’t mean you should have to be, Elinna,” Halsin said. “Resilience is an admirable trait, but it’s borne from the need to persevere through great pain. Can you blame us for not wanting such a thing for you?”

Elinna’s eyes met Halsin’s, flickering as she searched his face, her lips still pressed into a pale line. Gale wanted to correct Halsin–to tell him that Elinna had already seen her fair share of abuse and maltreatment. The things she had shared with him…he wondered if it was only the tip of the iceberg. He wondered if Elinna even remembered the worst atrocities done to her, or if she found some way to block them out. 

Whatever the answer was, Gale wouldn’t be getting it tonight. Elinna pushed Halsin’s hand off of her own shoulder like it was a piece of refuse–like it disgusted her.

“You’re all cowards,” Elinna said.

She turned around and trudged back up the stairs, her boots loud on the hollow, wooden structure.

Gale heaved a sigh, dropping his hand from his chin. “That went swimmingly, didn’t it?” he said. “She’s just woken up and we’re already at odds again.”

Halsin gave him two hard claps on the back, hard enough that Gale huffed a subtle cough from the force of it. “Don’t take it too hard, Gale,” Halsin said. “I’m sure there is much on the young woman’s mind since waking up. I don’t think her ire is personal, even if the words she used were quite strong.”

“I, for one, am a proud coward!” Astarion said. “How else do you think I survived so long? It wasn’t by taking on every enormous challenge thrown my way. Sometimes it is simply better to run.”

Briar was still looking at the stairs where Elinna had left. They plopped their chin into their palms, bringing up their legs and crossing them on the chair. “She’s going to try to leave regardless of whether we go with her or not, isn’t she?” Briar said.

Gale nodded let out a low, frustrated breath.

“Most definitely,” Gale said. “What she lacks in training she makes up for in tenacity and ambition.”

“Tenacity, or stubbornness?” Halsin said, though he huffed a warm chuckle.

“Or perhaps stupidity…” Astarion grumbled under his breath.  

“Best we go up before she decides to pack her things and leave without us,” Halsin said. “It will take us near a fortnight to get to The Lowerdark, longer still if we have any complications.”

“We will certainly have our work cut out for us,” Gale said. “But…well, there’s no time like the present, is there?”

Halsin gave Gale a knowing grin. Briar and Astarion started to bicker about Elinna’s intelligence compared to the vampire spawn; specifically having a debate on whether or not Astarion had the qualifications to remark on her intelligence at all. 

Gale didn’t know what would follow; he didn’t know what awaited them all in The Lowerdark. He did know one thing, though. 

He’d hated how it felt when Elinna was apart from him. 

And he certainly had no intention to experience that feeling ever again.