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hydropyro · 4 months

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A Dinner Owed

Prologue

“Until we meet again, I wish thee every possible fortune. Health, wealth, love, and above all, problems worth solving.” The recently unretired God of Death said – a goblet of wine held aloft.

Raphael stood at the edge of the party, just outside the glow of the various torches. Milil had seen him and had given him a polite nod in greeting – returned respectfully by the devil across camp – but no other attention was drawn to him yet. He shifted his weight onto his right leg, leaning against the smooth bark of a deciduous tree as he eyed the merrymakers.

“To you.” Jergal toasted, a cheer rose, and everyone lifted their cups before drinking. Though the mingling continued, a few of the attendants began to depart.

First went the drow. Raphael was surprised that she had even attended in the first place. He had no interest in dealing with her directly but followed her work closely. When the Baenre child enacted her plans to collapse the hierarchy of Menzoberranzan, he knew that a feast of souls and of desperate, haughty drow nobles would await his ever-helpful hand.

The gith girl left soon after, proudly declaring that her war needed her swift return. Gith were renowned warriors but so easily brought to heel by their superiors that Vlaakith’s deceit had continued for centuries. Though the Prince of the Comet had made a great personal sacrifice in accepting ceremorphosis on himself, from what Raphael had heard, little Lae’zel was blazing a path through the Astral Sea on her own. Whatever her might, it would not be straightforward to dethrone the Lich Queen –

He kept close tabs on the warrior. When the time was most opportunous he may be inclined to reveal Gith’s location – still alive in Baator. And, once he ruled the Hells, who better to liaison with for her Great Mother’s freedom?

Next to depart was the wizard. Mystra had forgiven the poor sod – for now. Tabs were kept on him, too, though his occupation as a professor made him much easier to track. Raphael had little doubt that the fickle, cradle-robbing Goddess would tire of her twisted plaything, leaving Mr. Dekarios in desperate need of a savior with enough magic to feed the voracious orb in his chest. Conveniently, Raphael would be able to provide – given a reasonable trade.

Karlach and Wyll Ravengard, now dubbed the Blade of Avernus, would linger for as long as Jergal would allow. He did not need to keep track of them; rather, his troops had strict orders to stay well out of their warpath. They were a mild inconvenience now, and hopefully, they would gratefully fall into their place once Zariel was deposed. They would be welcome to stay in his Avernus if they chose to, but he would not tolerate their massacring his armies.

He had continued work in Baldur’s Gate as he had around the rest of Toril, still gathering souls. The Karsite Weave may not need them, but having the extra power at his force’s disposal was welcome. And, in keeping with his deal with the adventurers, the Crown stayed securely tucked away – still on his person, of course – but not in use when he did what he did best.

In his visits to the city over the few months following the resolution of the Absolute Crisis, he’d heard tell of a nighttime vigilante cutting down the criminals of the city left otherwise free to wreak havoc by the corrupt lawmakers.

The spawn would be getting his warm and fuzzy feelings by playing hero for a time – but Raphael need not put any effort into tracking his whereabouts or goings on. Eventually, likely sooner than most would wager, he would see Astarion again – when the vampireling sought him out in a bid for the sun. The longer he held out, the more likely it would be that Raphael could deliver – and deliver more completely – but of course, the price would also be higher as time wore on and the devil’s power grew. With the first violet hues painting the early morning sky, the night-bound spawn had taken his leave to retreat into the dark.

The Sharran turned Selunite was so low on his radar that she’d apparently left without his notice. Aside from her soul, she had little to offer the scheming devil, and given all she’d already put it through with Shar, he was sure she would be reluctant to wager it. All he knew of her time post-Crisis was that she and her parents were traveling. As long as they didn’t get in his way, he had no further interest.

The former archdruid also left early despite being well into his cups. Raphael had not returned to Reithwyn since meeting with the band of heroes at Last Light and was truly looking forward to seeing how the land had changed.

Oh, how he had reveled in the perverted shadow over the land and in the many souls he had harvested from the despair it caused. But tragedy was not useful only when the tragedy was taking place. The resolution of tragedy could bear its own bounty of opportunities. The Shadow Curse had laid waste to the region for over a century – and like many wounds, the healing would take much longer than the infliction.

He did not know if the Harper leader would be there, as well, though she had left along with the other druid.

The lumbering Rashimi fighter was keeping the two infernally damned companions busy for the moment. Raphael was sure the hamster had spotted him across the clearing, though it seemed that the rodent had not made this knowledge known yet to the Rashimi nor the pair drinking merrily with him and dancing to Milil’s enchanting music.

This left Raphael’s true target on their own, sitting for the moment, their mind no doubt hazy in their celebratory imbibing. He started toward them, meeting eyes with Jergal, who impassively looked on for a moment, and rested a hand on Tav’s shoulder while taking the half-full goblet from their other hand. Still near the edge of the party space, the remaining companions had not noticed him.

Continue

#baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael #raphael bg3 #simpathyforthedevil #fan fiction #Raphael Romance #Let us have the devil #choose your own adventure

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mightymizora · 11 days

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Twisting Sickness

1k, M rating, The Dark Urge/Minthara. (I had a block and @lamortwrites suggested some Manthara. So here we are)

Read it on Ao3

She should kill her.

Her head is soft against her own bare chest, rising and falling against her as they start to breathe in time, hearts beating in a duet. It is monstrous, it gnaws at the edges of her, pulsing through the scar down her stomach, threatening to rip out of her. She should kill Minthara, she who has fulfilled her mission, who dared to claim her body.

The feeling rises into her throat, the desire that could not be sated by touch alone. When Minthara kissed her, she felt nothing. When she reached between her legs she felt not desire but a twisting sickness rising in her stomach that came in waves just as strongly as Minthara did on her fingers. She will feel satisfaction at last if she takes her great hands and pushes her thumbs through her eyes just as she pressed them against her slick, licks the blood-tears that will form with the same precision she lavished on her body, but she swallows away the feeling, somehow.

“I would have you at my side in Menzoberranzan,” Minthara tells her, and she thinks she might believe it.

She should leave her.

Minthara has failed them, Ketheric is correct. She has failed in her mission, and it is his right as her commander to punish her. There is something familiar about this room that makes her temple pulse, something in the coldness of the General’s stare that both makes her skin prick and makes something tremble in her thighs. It is not fear, she tells herself. It is not.

Minthara rages, but it is pointless. She is dead already. She should leave her. She is but a corpse.

Perhaps it would have been a better thing, to have killed her while she rested in her arms, rather than to die tortured and humiliated. Perhaps the spark of mercy was a false kindness, the wrong energy to fill her body with, an incorrect omen.

But when she looks into Minthara’s eyes again, in the small moment before she is taken again, she feels it. A wide, vast emptiness. The absence of something. Something buried below. She sees her own heavy hands alongside the fine grey of Minthara’s, digging through dark green peat to something below, through mists of purple and rivers of red.

She should tell her.

While she has her safe, after she has rescued her still in the cover of the Shadows, she should tell her, she thinks. She should tell her why she rescued her. The only problem is, she does not think she knows herself.

She sleeps in the arms of Lae’zel still, who holds onto her in a tight grip through the night. Source of her bruises, the one who challenges her, the one that pushes her body to the point of punishment, this tenacious youth. Lae’zel is a comet streaking across the sky, she is fury, she is death, and it is beautiful to see everything she wrecks in her wake.

And yet, she finds herself slipping from her thin arms and walking to the outcrop.

Minthara tends to mushrooms here. Tiny things that grow in damp soil that she places carefully in her pack. When she asks, she tells her that they are hardy spores that grow anywhere, but can be distilled into strong toxins. She tends to them with a gentleness that belies her ferocity in battle; the swing of her greatsword is as seared into her mind’s eye as the great flame of her righteous smite and makes her mouth water, but she swallows it away to ask her again of the range of her poisons. She can feel Minthara’s tadpole gently reach to her own, and she opens her mind freely, the connection dancing over their hands as they touch.

They are both ghosts in the world.

She should test her.

The thought appears to her one night, delivered through the mouth of the dread creature that calls himself her butler. She should test Minthara, test her loyalty. She should show her all of herself, open her mind to everything.

But she does not know everything, she counters.

So her Father shows her, finally, all that she is.

When she sees Orin in her mind’s eye, she is filled with all of the love and all of the hate and all of the fear and all of the pride that she had not been able to feel, all at once. She is raised from her feet onto the great clawed talons of the Slayer, her Father’s avatar, her Father’s promise, and she knows finally who she is and what she must be.

When she shows the others, they are awed.

When she shows Minthara, she is loved. She is loved.

She should love her.

Or, perhaps it is better to say she should love her better than she does. Lae’zel looks to the sky now, looks to her God, but Minthara looks only to her. She should love her better as she sleeps with her head pressed to her breast again, feels the softness of her breath on her skin, but there is something wrong. There is something wrong.

She craves a heavy breath scented with tobacco and rosewater. She craves the creeping dread of a voice heavy with lies, with challenges. She wants something she cannot quite grasp, cannot quite remember, but her body knows that once, just once, before she hands all that she is to the dread will of her dark Father, she wants to know.

Perhaps she should have killed her, back in the darkness of that temple. Perhaps that would have been the only way to love her in a way that mattered.

She lets her sleep, for one more night.

#manva warhelm #minthara baenre #bg3 #man I had such a bleugh time and this just. came out

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lavenderfluorite14 · 28 days

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A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav

Chapter 9: Derailed

Summary: The day is derailed even further, but that might be for the best.

Rating: 16+ for violence and gore. Kissing, making out.

Warnings: This chapter contains detailed descriptions of violence and gore, specifically arrow removal.

Full tag list on AO3. Read on AO3. Chapter 8. Read from the beginning.

Morale plummets in the wake of Lae’Zel’s departure. The rest of the morning is spent in silence as everyone finishes preparing for the day ahead. Even Shadowheart’s smug superiority at finally ousting Lae’Zel fades to a grim determination. Already, the hole Lae’Zel has left feels palpable.

Astarion is sure Lae’Zel will be fine out there. She is a warrior through and through. But an additional prickle of fear ripples through him at the idea that the others may leave him too. He cannot do this alone, he needs every ally he can get.

He knew this was coming, he reminds himself. He knew Lae’Zel was always going to leave. It’s just happening earlier than expected. This is a good thing, actually. He has less competition now. And less opposition to the illithid powers. He cannot compromise that.

He had never really minded Lae’Zel’s condescension or rudeness, even when it was directed at him. Cazador had been much crueler. At least Lae'Zel was almost funny. And her passion for bloodshed had always been inspiring. He supposed he was just disappointed to see a strong ally leave over such a trifle.

Perhaps there was a tinge of worry for her as well.

At least he knows that Tav won’t leave. Certainly not with the promise of tonight hanging between them like luscious, unpicked fruit.

Tav, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion all trudge through the forest in silence, doggedly following the billowing smoke plume that Lae’Zel had spotted earlier. Along the way Tav and Shadowheart stop to forage, gathering berries, mushrooms, and eggs from bird nests. They even find a big, juicy honeycomb. All treats Astarion can’t truly enjoy.

“Are you sure about the tadpoles, Fangs?” Karlach asks him when they are finally alone. Tav and Shadowheart are far ahead at this point, digging up what appears to be a buried chest.

“Of course I am,” Astarion insists. The tadpole set him free. He has to follow this thread.

“Even if it means you’ll become a Mindflayer?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“But what if it does?”

He briefly imagines the pain and horror of his bones turning into jelly, his handsome face sprouting tentacles, his personality and memories siphoned away to feed the gluttonous parasite. It’s too grotesque, too unimaginable to feel like a real possibility.

But he can imagine Cazador placing his favorite knife against the coals of a blazing fire, the searing heat guaranteeing that its blade will be horrifically painful. He can imagine Godey behind him with the pliers, laughing a deep, clacking chuckle.

“As I have said repeatedly, that is not going to happen.”

Karlach just sighs. “Well. If you’re sure, then.”

Silence resumes. The smoke cloud looms ever larger above them. Astarion thinks he hears a Worg howl.

“I’m just asking you to be careful. Your actions affect the rest of us too. If you begin to transform-"

“I won’t transform!” he yells at her. Up ahead, Tav and Shadowheart try to look busy. “I won’t let it get that far. The idea is to control the tadpole, not become it.”

“But we don’t know if that’s even possible,” she responds.

“But what if it is? We have to inv-” There’s something up ahead.

Tav’s message throbs through all their minds, rife with concern. Immediately everyone reaches for their weapons.

“Finally, some action,” Karlach growls, grabbing her sword.

“Finally, I agree with you,” Astarion replies, unsheathing his daggers.

Let’s carefully approach-

Karlach charges ahead, bursting through the underbrush. She streaks ahead of them through the forest, a comet made flesh. They all race to catch up to her, nimbly dodging rocks, branches, roots, and all manner of forest debris as they hurtle towards danger. Soon they begin to hear the clangs of swords, the twangs of bowstrings, and they feel the unmistakable thrum of the Weave. There’s fighting up ahead, in the town square of the abandoned village.

What remains of a band of goblin marauders have cornered something against a wall. Whatever it is has put up quite a fight: goblin carcasses litter the ground in pools of dark, sticky blood. Astarion reflexively licks his lips.

“Kill it!” a goblin booyahg cackles as she conjures a poisonous green cloud. She unleashes the magic on her target, which doubles over in a fit of hacking coughs. “Skva!” Lae’Zel barks between wheezes. A worg leaps at her, sinking its jaws into the hard muscle of her thigh. Lae’Zel snarls in pain, rapping its head with the pommel of her sword. The beast releases her, dazed, its jowls dripping blood. As Lae’Zel shifts into a new stance to compensate for her injured leg an arrow strikes her thigh, missing her plate by centimeters and embedding itself into her other leg. She screams in Githyanki, but somehow finds the force to keep standing. Multiple arrows have pierced her, jutting out of her flesh like pins in a horrifying pincushion. Blood drips from a cut on her brow, where a rock had struck her face, pooling in her eyes.

“Oi! Meatheads!” Tav roars, her mockery grabbing their attention. “The frog is ours! Back off, or you’ll be joining it!” one of the goblins yells. Lae’Zel uses the distraction to strike, knocking the nearest goblin prone.

All hells break loose. Karlach jumps into the fray, cleaving the worg in half with her sword. Astarion shimmies up a decaying roof, crouching low as he surveys the fight. He silently looses arrow after arrow, picking off goblins from his vantage point. There’s another booyahg perched on a nearby gable and Astarion quickly dispatches him with a clean shot to the neck, sending him plummeting to the stones below with a sickening thud. A goblin slashes at Lae’Zel but Tav grasps her with Hold Person, freezing her in place. Lae’Zel seizes the moment, chopping off her head with a clean sweep of her blade. The goblin band is no match for all of them, together.

“Lae’Zel! Are you alright?” Tav calls out to her as the last goblin falls.

Lae’Zel does not answer. She briefly wobbles for a moment, blinking blood out of her golden eyes. Then she swoons, hard. Karlach dives to catch her but Lae’Zel’s head strikes the cobblestones, knocking her out cold. Shadowheart rushes forward, her blue healing magic flickering at her fingertips. They all stand back as Shadowheart works to save Lae’Zel, watching as she feverishly casts her magic. They may hate each other, but that doesn’t mean that Shadowheart would let Lae’Zel die like this.

“Lae’Zel better live through this,” Karlach murmurs. She has given Shadowheart the most space, ever conscious of her burning engine.

“She’ll be fine, darling. She’s too tough to let a couple of goblins get to her,” Astarion hand-waves. She won’t die. She can’t die.

“Tav!” Shadowheart calls frantically over her shoulder. Tav rushes over, her hands starting to glow with her own lesser healing magic. The two begin working in tandem: Tav props Lae’Zel’s head up so Shadowheart can carefully pour a healing potion down her throat. Lae’Zel groans, her eyes flickering open in a haze of pain.

“Astarion!” Tav cries. Astarion dashes over, crouching at her side. “You have the best dexterity. We need you to help excise these arrows,” she explains. “I’ll walk you through it. Just do as I say, and everything will be fine,” Shadowheart assures him. “I can push this one through. But these two are pretty shallow, you will need to rip them out of her. I can’t finish healing her until they’ve been removed,” Shadowheart instructs.

“That will make it worse!” Astarion frets.

“Not with goblin arrows. They’re just simple metal spikes, they don’t have the fancy head. You’ll still need to be quick though, so they can heal her before she bleeds out,” Karlach explains. “Please Astarion, just do it,” Tav pleads.

Tav gently supports the arrow shaft, holding it still. The shaft wiggles, which is a good sign. It hasn’t struck bone. He surveys Lae’Zel’s thigh, making note of the two arrows he will need to remove in rapid succession. Delicately but firmly, he grasps the shaft near the root. Lae’Zel swears thickly but Tav quietly soothes her, casting Calm Emotions. Blood bubbles forth from her flesh as he quickly rips the arrow out. The urge to bite almost overwhelms him, but Tav swoops in with a rag to staunch the bleeding before he can lose himself. Lae’Zel writhes in pain but Shadowheart does her best to hold her down. Karlach hovers over them, burning too fiercely to safely help.

They repeat the grisly process, removing all the arrows from Lae’Zel’s body. Lae’Zel screams, she swears, she twists in pain, but she does not complain. The last one is too deep, so Shadowheart snaps the shaft and swiftly pushes the arrow through her thigh, forcing it out the other side. When the horrible work is done, Karlach passes Shadowheart a Greater Healing potion, which Lae’Zel gulps down. Shadowheart stands up, wiping the sweat from her brow. Tav stays crouched, casting Prestidigitation to clean the blood and viscera from Lae’Zel’s prone form. Lae’Zel tries to stand but Karlach moves over her. “Hold it, soldier. Your wounds are closed but you are not fit to move,” she says. Lae’Zel chks. “She’ll live, but she needs to rest.” Shadowheart declares. “And so do I. I’m almost completely out of magic now.” Tav swears under her breath.

“I could still accompany you to the goblin camp, but I’ll only have my cantrips,” Shadowheart adds. Tav stands slowly so as to not disturb Lae’Zel, then kicks angrily at a nearby tuft of grass. “As much as I’d like to kick some goblin butt, I’m not going into enemy territory without another healer,” Karlach insists.

“Nor I,” Tav agrees. “Not if there’s as many goblins as I suspect.” They all glance up at the billowing smoke cloud. Lae’Zel was right, the camp is just beyond the ridge.

“Well, at least this was fun,” Astarion says. Karlach wraps Lae’Zel in a blanket from her pack, then hoists her up into her arms, gently cradling her.

“Let’s get this one back to camp, yeah?” Karlach suggests.

“Put me down this instant,” Lae’Zel demands. She squirms indignantly. “I am Lae’Zel of K’liir, not some hatchling.”

“And right now you are recovering from some serious injuries,” Tav says. “We’re going back to camp so we can all re-coup.”

“You tell me if it gets too hot, ok?” Karlach says. Lae’Zel grunts.

“Were you anyone else I would strike you down for such disrespect,” she grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah, we can fight about it after you rest,” Karlach teases.

“As fierce as you are, darling, you shouldn’t run off like that. We were quite worried about you,” Astarion gently scolds her. Lae'Zel glowers at him but she does not rebuff his chastisement. Perhaps they really are growing on her after all.

As they walk, Lae'Zel eventually settles into Karlach's strong arms. If Astarion didn't know better, she almost seems content there.

Tav falls into step beside him. “Good job today,” she says. She gives his arm a quick, affectionate squeeze. The contact sends a jolt of something through him. He isn’t sure if it’s pleasant or not, but he does know that he loves the compliment.

“Why thank you, darling. What can I say, I’m quite skilled with my hands.”

Tav giggles at him. He leans in close to her, so the others won’t hear. “You’ll find out for yourself soon enough,” he promises. Tav playfully pushes him away, pantomiming annoyance, but once she’s done she shoots him a heated look that belies her true feelings. Astarion smirks back at her.

Tonight is the night.

There’s a dog waiting for them when they return. Apparently Wyll and Gale had found it wandering around the woods. It had not wanted to leave the body of its dead master, but Wyll had given it his scent anyway. According to the collar, the dog’s name was “Scratch.” Karlach and Shadowheart are delighted, but Astarion isn’t impressed. But he supposes he can live with the dog, so long as it doesn’t slobber all over his pillow.

Somehow, Wyll and Gale had also found the time to trek back to the Grove, trade for more potions and alchemy supplies, forage for food, and discover an owlbear cave. They had certainly been busy bees while they were gone.

They all help pitch Lae’Zel’s tent, then Karlach lays Lae’Zel down gently in her bedroll, where she quickly falls asleep. They all mostly agree: if Lae’Zel wants to rejoin their group then she is welcome to stay. Shadowheart loudly objects, but she is overruled by Tav, Wyll, and Karlach. Everyone is welcome here so long as they are willing to cooperate with the group.

Astarion knew he had bet correctly on Tav.

They all take turns checking on Lae’Zel, even Astarion. When at last she stirs, Gale hands her a bowl of stew and Tav flits into her tent to talk. They all quietly gather nearby to eavesdrop, Gale included this time.

Lae’Zel doesn’t apologize. She is still adamantly against using the tadpole, but she does agree to stay. Astarion intuitively understands that this is Githyanki for “thank you for saving my life.” Tav concedes that they are taking an enormous risk and agrees that if they begin to transform, Lae’Zel should kill them. Lae’Zel swears that she will see it so. Astarion frowns to himself. Even though he is confident that they can eventually control the tadpole, he still doesn’t appreciate that Tav has essentially forfeited their lives. But this seems to be an acceptable enough compromise for now.

Tav gives them all a knowing look as she exits Lae’Zel’s tent. No one tries to hide the fact that they were listening in.

The sun is already beginning to set, so Astarion settles in and begins his grooming regimen. Tav will be expecting him soon.

“Astarion! Can I trouble you for some help chopping these vegetables?” Gale calls to him from the makeshift kitchen he has staged by the fire.

“I’m afraid I’m a bit busy, my dear,” he calls over. Astarion doesn’t have nail scissors or clippers, but he’s skilled enough with a knife to make do.

“Very well, then I shall come to you,” Gale announces, laying down his own knife and making his way over. As Gale approaches, Astarion wonders what he has done to deserve this.

“I’d like to speak to you in private, if I may. About this morning,” Gale says. Astarion raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know we had more to say to each other,” Astarion says icily. “You already made your point quite clearly.”

“I actually don’t think I have,” Gale says. Oh good, more lecturing.

“I spoke in anger and in haste this morning, and I wanted to offer my apologies. Although we have only known each other briefly, I meant what I said. I would stand at your side again, tadpole or no.”

“What?” Astarion says flatly.

“I spoke in anger and in haste-"

“I heard you!” Astarion snaps.

“It occurred to me that you and I are not so different, in our ways,” Gale continues. “To be at the beck and call of a supernatural hunger has been challenging, even for a wizard of my acclaim.”

“That has certainly been true in my own experience,” Astarion offers slowly.

"I know we didn’t meet under the best of circumstances and we have all been relatively slow to confide in one another. But now that we have a tad more trust and understanding, I hope that we can move forward towards curing our mutual infection,” Gale says.

“Do we have more trust in each other?” Astarion cuts in, ignoring Gale's mention of the parasite. “Because right now it seems as though the one waxing poetic about trust is keeping a pretty important secret from all of us.”

Gale sighs. “You are right, Astarion. I am asking a lot of all of you. But I assure you, now is not the right time. I promise that when the time is right, I will tell you everything,” Gale pledges.

Astarion looks him up and down, warily. “I suppose I understand better than most the need to keep a secret until the right time,” Astarion concedes.

“You’ve got to get the timing just right, I’m afraid.” Gale sighs again. “And as powerful as I am, I can't say I've been at my level best this past week. This whole adventure has been rather exhausting, if I’m being honest.”

“I quite agree,” Astarion replies.

“If also a bit invigorating,” Gale continues, conspiratorially. Astarion’s lips twitch.

“I quite agree,” Astarion smirks.

“So! Shall we put this spat behind us?” Gale offers his hand for a gentlemanly shake.

Astarion eyes Gale’s outstretched hand. He briefly considers asking the wizard about his intentions with Tav. But his brief glimpse inside Gale’s tent lends credence to Astarion’s hunch that nothing of significance is going on between them. Wyll and Shadowheart are wrong.

Besides, they have almost no chemistry. If Tav would have rather bunked in Gale’s tent, she would be in Gale’s tent. Instead she’s promised herself to him.

“I suppose I can forgive you,” Astarion says, clasping Gale’s hand in his and giving it a firm shake. “Your words are…appreciated.”

“And is there anything that you would like to say to me?” Gale says hopefully. Astarion pauses. The cheek of this wizard.

“I suppose I can also make an effort to be more forthcoming in the future. Within reason. I do have an image to maintain, after all.”

“I can content myself with ‘an effort’ so long as it is a genuine one,” Gale chides him. “Although I hope I prove a worthy confidant,” he adds, smiling.

As Gale retreats towards Shadowheart’s tent, ostensibly on his apology tour, Astarion admits that Gale can be charming, on occasion.

It occurs to Astarion that he hasn’t received a genuine apology like that in decades.

Freshly bathed, trimmed, and coiffed, Astarion swaggers over to Tav’s tent, tapping on the flap by way of greeting. Tav beckons him in.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you, my darling,” he asks, sliding inside. Although, he wouldn’t have cared even if he was disturbing her.

“Not at all,” she reassures him. Tav sits on a stool, applying mascara to her eyelashes with the help of a hand mirror.

“We finally have a quiet evening,” he observes lightly, coming around beside her.

“As quiet as it can be around here, anyway,” she retorts. She screws the tube of mascara shut, slipping it into a little pouch. She then produces a small tin of salve, which she opens with a small click.

“A perfect night for two souls who would like to take some time to themselves,” he hints flirtatiously. “If you catch my meaning.”

“Hm, I don’t think I do,” Tav replies, swiping a fat dollop over her lips.

“No?” Astarion questions, his tone playfully patronizing.

“No,” she teases, rubbing the balm between her lips. “You’ll have to be more explicit,” she says, the challenge clear in her voice. Her lips look so pretty and glossy, a tempting target.

“Well then, since you apparently need it spelled out for you-“ Astarion leans down and kisses her, ruining the immaculate shine of her lips with a single press of his own. He lingers against her, enjoying the cloying scent of lavender and honey, the soft pillow of her lips against his own. It must be a beeswax of some kind. Tav opens her mouth to deepen the kiss, but Astarion pulls away.

“Not here,” he says, stopping her in her tracks. “There’s a clearing just over the hill. Once the others have gone to sleep, come find me there. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I will,” she promises. Already she’s rosy-cheeked and breathless.

He’s going to positively wreck her. ~ Chapter 10: Want❤️‍🔥

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #the night shift #a taste of plums #Shadowheart #Karlach #lae'zel #gale dekarios #bg3 scratch #astarion fic #astarion longfic #bg3 longfic #bg3 re-telling

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your-talos-is-problematic · 3 months

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WIP Middas

Thank you @skyrim-forever for the tag! I spent most of my creative juices this week on the first chapter of my 3rd era au (shameless plug sorry it just hasn’t gotten any reads yet) but I did get randomly compelled to write some of a post-game Tilia and Lae’zel AU for I’m not sure what reasons. So here’s that! Big BG3 spoilers relating to Lae’zel’s personal quest.

Tagging @thequeenofthewinter @umbracirrus and @throughtrialbyfire

“Who’s the devil child?” he asked in Githyanki. Tilia would pout about that description, but there were no other words for tieflings in our language.

“Her name is Tilia.” I gave my response in Gith’s tongue, too. Upon hearing her own name, Tilia looked up. “She doesn’t speak Githyanki. You will address her in the common tongue or in Draconic.”

He scoffed, but I held his gaze. “Fine.” He scanned Tilia again. “You speak Draconic, istik?”

She broke into her usual sincere smile. Chk. Should have coached her against that. “I do! My name is Tilia of Tragedy.” She shot me a joking side-eye, probably for not having given her full name.

He rolled his eyes and turned around. “Follow.” He repeated it in Githyanki for the other soldiers around us, who complied. I held a hand in front of Tilia’s chest, waiting until everyone was a few steps ahead to whisper to her in Common. She opened her mouth before I did.

“Does he not speak Common?”

“No. All githyanki do.” She looked confused at that. “He intends to test whether or not you truly know the language.”

“Does he know I speak it instinctively?” she asked.

“Likely.” I checked to make sure we were out of sight of the other gith, then grabbed Tilia’s chin to kiss her. She giggled and gently ran a scaled wrist across my forehead, placing her other hand on my chest as if to try to find a heartbeat through the armor.

“Are you nervous at all, Lae’zel?” It was a question she clearly knew the answer to.

“No. I have earned my place in this council,” I responded. Both of her arms were now around my neck, placing her chest close to mine.

“And me?”

I let my hand glide over the scales on her cheeks. “Are half of why the Prince of the Comet is free. Now come. We are falling behind.” I broke out of the embrace. The gap between us and the others was sizable, so my pace had to be quick to try to close it.

Tilia seemed to run out of breath after a few

minutes and eventually resorted to flying to keep up. I noticed a few of the other githyanki shooting her looks, but I wasn’t sure of the emotion behind them. There was likely to be some distrust of her devilish appearance here, but none that she couldn’t counter. Tilia was nothing if not persistent.

When we eventually caught up, I scanned the unit and our surroundings. There were six soldiers, plus the kith’rak, all of whom appeared to be carrying both crossbows and various melee weapons. The meeting hall we were heading towards was visible, but still distant, and the terrain seemed otherwise empty. Tilia tapped me on the shoulder.

“This is a lot of people for an escort, isn’t it?” She sounded nervous.

“The creatures of the Astral Plane often prove to be fearsome foes. We typically travel in large groups.”

She was still anxiously tapping her staff against her hand. “We’re just sure they’re not here for… us?”

“Are you expressing distrust in my people?”

She seemed to consider. “No. I think I’m just nervous.”I tried to think of a way to reassure her that wouldn’t outwardly portray any romantic intent; eventually I settled on gently patting her between the wings. She smiled. “I’ll be good to see Orpheus again,” she said.

“Prince Orpheus,” I corrected.

“Prince Orpheus. Hopefully he’s not still mad at me. He seemed to cool off after we actually took down the brain, though.” I snorted. I was sure Tilia would get the prince to enjoy her company- it was her strongest skill. And any battle alongside her would quickly make him respect her capabilities. I realized it was strange for me to consider those two different things.

#not tes #baldurs gate

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fanartfic · 4 months

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Faith and Fireflies

Tavya reflects on the events of the past as she renews her faith in Sylvanus, while Halsin realizes the desires of his own heart.

TW: none, all fluff.

Tavya stood upon Wyrm's Lookout gazing at the sprawling city before her.

Baldur's Gate: after everything she and her companions had been through, they were finally here. Where all the threads of fate had been leading them.

She stood there a long time, reflecting on everything that had passed. The Grove, the goblin camp, the shadow curse, and more recently, the revelation that their dream visitor was actually a mindflayer. Not unlike the one they had met in the Underdark, free of the control of the elder brain.

She heard the scrape of a shovel as Halsin and Lae’Zel buried the bodies of the githyanki fighters that had attacked them. The honor guard of the long-imprisoned Orpheus, the Prince of the Comet, as Lae’Zel had put it. She seemed to have mixed emotions on the matter. Tav knew she was still upset with her about not obeying her queen when they had explored the creche. But upon the realization that the illithid was the only reason they were still in their original forms, she seemed a bit more forgiving. She had something else to be mad about now.

The thought made Tav chuckle a little bit. Oak Father help her, things just seemed to keep getting complicated.

She reached down into her pocket and pulled out a talisman. Sylvanus’ holy symbol was carved into the small piece of oak, then covered in copper leaf. It seemed to be an old amulet, as the copper had begun to patina, leaving teal green splotches, like moss on a rock, around the rim of the symbol. Thaniel had come to her and given it to her before she had left for the Gate with the others.

“I was asked to give you this.” he had said, gently pressing the trinket into her hand. “It is a blessing from the Oak Father himself.”

She looked at the talisman, then looped the leather chord over her neck, hiding the pendant under her tunic where it sat next to her locket on her chest. It was the first time she had put it on, and she felt oddly safe and more secure. Tav felt herself being drawn to the forest that surrounded them, and decided that a moonlit stroll in the woods was in order.

It had been nearly a century since she had actively prayed to the Oak Father. The prior experience with the Shadow Curse had shaken her faith, and so she closed herself off. But after meeting Halsin, and the vision she had while fighting Ketheric below Moonrise, she realized that even tho she had forsaken Sylvanus, he had never forsaken her.

Tav found herself seeking the biggest oak tree she could find, and settled herself amongst its roots. She drew the Talisman out again, then held it in one hand as her other rested on the tree behind her.

“What do you want of me?” She asked, her breath shaking.

The tree seemed to whisper in the breeze. Swaying one way, then the other, before returning to its original state.

“Balance. . . You wish for me to restore the balance.” Tav said thoughtfully. “The Absolute has caused much imbalance. Defeating it would return everything the way that it was?”

This time, the amulet in her hand seemed to warm. Not harshly, but a pleasant warmth that spread through her hand.

Tav nodded her head, understanding what was required of her. She lay back against the bark of the tree, staring up through the boughs.

“I'll try my best. . . At least I have help.” She sighed, gazing up at the stars she hadn't seen in several ten-days. “You sent me Halsin, didn't you?”

She had the distinct feeling that it was a mutual arrangement. Sylvanus had sent them to each other. He knew of the bond growing between the two of them, even if Tavya was hesitant to act on it.

Tav sighed heavily, realizing the weight that was now placed on her shoulders. With her faith in Sylvanus restored, she now understood the calling that she had suppressed in her heart for so long. She was no cleric, or druid, but a warrior?

That she could do.

“Does this make me a paladin?” She wondered out loud. She looked at the talisman again and huffed. “I'll ask Aylin. . . She would know, maybe?”

The amulet seemed to thrum in her hand as she realized the answer was right there with her. Sylvanus had claimed her as a paladin, a rare occurrence for a nature god.

“Why me? Why not Halsin?” She asked, staring up at the sky.

The answer came to her as she heard the druid's laughter floating towards her from camp.

Halsin was a healer. And even though he was more than capable in battle, he needed someone more versed in the ways of war than he was.

Someone who had done a lot of fighting over the last hundred years.

Tavya knew she had to remain at his side. Both for Sylvanus and for herself. She pulled her knees up to her chest, still staring up at the sky as the moon slowly came into view through the leaves of the trees.

Tav took a deep breath and let herself fully relax for the first time since before the crash. Surrounded by the quiet sounds of the forest once again, she felt safe. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sounds of the peepers from the nearby river.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}{~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Halsin had just finished washing the last dish from dinner when Gale looked around the camp in concern. “Where’s Tav? Has anyone seen her? Her bowl is still clean.”

Halsin looked up from closing the lid of the small dish crate and took a glance towards Tav’s tent. The bedroll hadn't even been unpacked, resting in the straps on Tav’s pack.

“She wouldn't have wandered off without saying something,” said Wyll. “She can't be far.”

“Chk! You all worry too much. Tav is a fine warrior and more than capable of handling herself.” Lae’Zel grumbled from near the fire.

“I, for one, agree with our green friend,” Astarion chipped in. “Tav’s fine. She probably just went for a walk.”

Halsin let out a dissatisfied huff. “You are probably right.” He said, looking out towards the forest.

Still, the urge to go under those eaves was strong. Something, or someone, wanted him to go there.

After making sure everything was sorted at camp, Halsin made his way to a deer path he saw snaking into the woods. As he neared the head of the trail, he spotted the tracks left by Tavya’s booted feet heading in the same direction.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips. There was no sign of a struggle, and the easy gait of the tracks led him to believe that it was more of a pleasure stroll. As he followed the trail deeper into the forest, the sounds from the camp faded away. The chirping of crickets and the song of peepers filled his ears as fireflies began to light up around him.

The trail led him to the base of a large oak tree, and nestled in its roots, was Tavya. She seemed to be meditating, and fireflies had alighted on her arms and shoulders, showering her in their light as they blinked in the dark.

Halsin felt his breath catch in his chest as his heart began to beat faster. He had always been drawn to Tav, from day one even. He had felt terrible after turning down her offer to dance at the tiefling’s party and had been secretly overjoyed when she let him help her with combing her hair that same night.

He admired her strength and leadership, determination, compassion, and kindness. He absolutely adored how she treated her companions like her own family. Because of those traits, and more, he wanted to be near her; to always be at her side.

But here, peacefully resting under the glow of the fireflies; her armor set aside for the day and her long hair let loose, Halsin came to realize:

Tav was breathtakingly beautiful.

He realized that for the first time in almost a century, his heart wasn't his anymore.

It belonged to her.

He wasn't even sure when it had happened: was it after comforting her their first night in the Shadowlands? When she and the others had protected the portal as he went searching for Thaniel? Or was it when she spoke to Oliver, like a mother to their reluctant child, to convince him to return to his other half? Perhaps it was when she grew protective of Shadowheart when she spurned her goddess in the Shadowfell; or her selflessness in aiding her companions during the fight with Ketheric Thorm?

He wasn't sure.

Perhaps, he had loved her all along.

He took a step forward and winced as a snap of a twig under his foot seemed to echo through the clearing. Tav’s eyes flew open as she sat up, scattering the fireflies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°}{°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tav roused from meditation with a start. She looked around in wonder at the fireflies that floated around her before she saw Halsin at the edge of clearing, an apologetic look on his face.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to disturb you.” he said, coming closer. “When you were missed at camp I thought I would at least make sure you were alright.”

Tav got to her feet and brushed off her breeches. “It's alright. I should have told someone before wandering off.”

“What are you doing out here?” Halsin asked, now closing the distance between them until he stood directly in front of her.

“I was—” she paused, looking around at the fireflies that lit the clearing with an almost ethereal glow. “I was re-establishing an old connection,” she finished, absentmindedly touching the talisman around her neck.

Halsin tilted his head as he looked around him. The clearing was peaceful, the fireflies didn't fly away from their presence, and the song of the peepers from the nearby river thrummed in a consistent beat. It was like a miniature grove, a haven on the edges of society. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, and allowing himself to feel the connection to the earth below his feet.

This place, this clearing beneath the oak tree, it was a sacred place. He could feel the Oak Father’s power flowing through the roots beneath him, giving him peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. He could feel Sylvanus’ presence as if he was standing next to him. The sensation was so real he opened his eyes to look, just to be sure.

Only Tavya was there, still standing in front of him. Her eyes searched his face, looking for insight into his thoughts.

“This place. . . Its–”

“I feel it too.” Tavya said, her voice a quiet murmur. “It's ancient, and full of the Oak Father’s presence.”

Halsin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You can sense it too?” he asked.

Tav nodded. “It's been a long time since I felt it. Not since, well. . . The shadow curse.”

Halsin saw her shoulders slump a little with the admission. “I forsook a lot of things back then,” she said.

“You told me you knew Jaheira, raised her even. But you were there in Reithwin as well?” Halsin asked.

He realized there was actually very little he knew about Tav, outside of what she had told him about her daughter and husband.

Tav nodded, then motioned for him to sit on one of the roots of the trees with her.

As he took his seat, he searched his memories. Had they met before? Perhaps in the confines of a camp recovering from a skirmish? If she accompanied Jaheira, there were only one or two instances where they were in the same place, and they had never spoken to each other.

Perhaps they had and he just couldn't remember. He looked over at Tav, who held her hands in her lap, looking up at the fireflies.

“I remembered, dreamt, while I was unconscious after Thorm. . . Well-” she rubbed her shoulder where her blade had been forced into her flesh from Myrkul’s blow. Despite being healed by Shadowheart, a scar remained. It stretched from over her collarbone to just above her heart. “After Myrkul flung me across the cavern.” She finished. “A memory long suppressed.”

She looked up at him. “You've saved me before.” She continued, taking one of his hands in her own. “A hundred years ago, you found a Harper bleeding to death on the floor of the Last Light Inn, after returning from a Sharran ambush.”

Halsin thought for a moment. Then it fell into place. He remembered that night. It was shortly before the final push against Ketheric to seal him into his tomb. He had been told, no, ordered, by his Archdruid to rest. As he had started down the hallway towards an empty cot, he had stepped into a pool of blood that had flowed into the walkway.

And she had been sitting there, weak, nearly bled out, overlooked by the other healers. Even then her first concern was the men under her command.

“Sweet Sylvanus. That was you?” he marveled. “Of course it was, one of the few times I saw Jaheira was when she ran in to make sure you were alright.”

“I wanted to thank you, but you disappeared before I could. I thought I'd find you later, but then. . .”

“But then the curse fell.” Halsin finished.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Why didn't you tell me?”

Tav took in a shuddering breath. “I lost many a good friend that day. I had suppressed the memories. I had no wish to relive them. But then our path led me straight back to where it happened, and the knowledge I had became invaluable to our survival.”

“Outside those of us who made it back to the grove, I never thought I would meet any other survivors of the curse. That was until we met Jaheira at Last Light,” Halsin moved a little closer to Tav. She tried to smile, but it was clear the memories of that day were painful to her.

He knew that pain all too well.

“We do not have to speak more about this.” he said, slowly reaching an arm around Tav’s shoulders. “We can just sit here, in the Oak Father’s creations.”

Tav leaned into him, her eyes returning to the fireflies.

“No. . . I feel I need to tell you.” she said, taking comfort in the big elf’s warmth. She continued her story.

“I was in the company that sealed Ketheric in his tomb,” she said, her eyes growing distant as she recalled the events of that day. “I fought him, face to face, back then. I was desperate to keep Jaheira safe, and Ketheric almost killed her.” she looked down at her own hand, nestled in Halsin's fingers. “He remembered too, I think. But for me, that moment flashed before my eyes when Ketheric had you by the throat.”

Halsin felt his heart beat a little faster.

“I heard you,” he said, a smile twitching his lips. “What was it you said? Get your hands off my druid?” he teased.

Tavya froze for a second before breaking down into quiet laughter.

“Well, you are my druid,” she admitted, squeezing his hand. “Just like. . . I heard you.”

Halsin felt his heart almost stop as Tav looked up at him, her eyes warm and full of moonlight. He turned to face her more and reached to tuck some stray hair behind her ear.

Gods, he never grew tired of that.

He decided it was now or never.

“I never realized how burdened I was until I met you,” he began, his voice low and quiet, as if the very tree they sat on was trying to listen in. “The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove. . .I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you.”

“Well, you are very much welcome,” Tav replied.

Halsin shook his head in disbelief. “You are far too modest. I wager you truly don't know how extraordinary you are. . . But I do.” he cupped her face in his hand, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

Tavya leaned into his touch. “Perhaps I'll remember it. . . If you keep telling me.”

Halsin chuckled. They had repeated the same words they had spoken to each other that first night in the Shadowlands. They had been traveling companions back then, friends on the road. But now. . .

Now he never wanted to leave her side again.

“So, what do you see, now that the fog has lifted?” Tav asked, moving to cuddle into his side, his hand resting comfortably on her hip.

“Not what. . . Who.” Halsin replied, taking in the faint scent of rosemary and mint that always seemed to float from her hair. “But all in due time.”

Tav’s cheeks blushed. “There is so much left to do.” She sighed heavily, fingering the talisman around her neck. It's copper glint caught Halsin’s eye.

“What is that, might I ask?”

Tav looked up at him, then looped the leather chord over her head, placing the amulet in his large hand. Halsin turned it over in his fingers before a flash of shock and recognition darted across his eyes.

“Thaniel gave it to me before we left his domain. He said it was a gift from the Oak Father.” Tav explained. “I don't know why, but I feel safe when I wear it.”

“Tav, this amulet. . .” Halsin’s voice shook as he spoke “This belonged to my master.”

“What? But how?”

“Only the Oak Father knows.”

“Well, you should keep it then,” Tavya said, closing his fingers around it.

Halsin shook his head.

“No. It was gifted to you.” He said, taking the chord and placing it around Tav’s neck. He gently pulled her hair through the loop and moved it to hang behind her back. “It's an amulet of protection. It will aid you in battle.”

He gently held the talisman in his fingers, taking in the worn details. It hadn't seen living hands for a long time. Now it hung around the neck of the person he cared for the most.

“The Oak Father’s blessings are truly upon you.” he said, as he left it to hang against her chest.

“He’s chosen me as a paladin.” Tav revealed, grasping the amulet in her fist. “I don't know what to make of it.” She looked up at him. ‘What I do know, is that he wants me to return the balance, and defeating the Absolute is the only way.”

“Then you will have me by your side,” said Halsin, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Through curses, parasites, the Absolute. . .Anything."

Tav leaned into him, wrapping her own arm around his back, her hand resting between his shoulder blades. "I know."

Halsin let his head fall until his cheek rested on top of her head. How long they stayed like that, he didn't know. But eventually they heard their names being called from the edge of camp by the others.

"We should head back," Tav sighed, slowly getting to her feet. She held her hand out to Halsin, who took it and reluctantly stood.

Tav looked around the clearing as the fireflies disappeared, leaving only the moonlight streaming through the canopy. "We'll have to come back here, once we're finished with the Absolute."

"I wholeheartedly agree." said Halsin, as he interlaced his fingers with Tav's. "Let's take the scenic route back, shall we?"

Tav smiled. "I think we shall."

#baldurs gate tav #fanfic #my tav #baldur’s gate fanfiction #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #i might be obsessed #halsin fluff #halsin x tav fluff #halsin is so damn sweet and i cant get enough

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wufflesvetinari · 5 months

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reporting back on redeemed-durge (who is romancing lae’zel). Michael says he’s embarrassed for me that I just took a photo of the screen but here we are

recently finished Act 2. the bard+durge combo is extremely fun (welcome to the dark carnival) because you’re constantly choosing between [funny bard response] and [absolutely unhinged durge response]

I imagine that dorothea comes across as a haha funny-mean bard for long enough to rock a charisma check, but if you spend like 2 more minutes talking to her (in Act 1 at least) you get the sense that she’s Constantly struggling to contort her human face into the expressions she wants you to see, rather than that weird grinch “biting your face off in my head” durge smile. she gives people with high WIS the heebie-jeebies (including halsin lmao there has been. no friendship chemistry)

on the other hand, lae’zel met her first out of everyone in faerun, helped her to do some violently authoritative stuff, and thought “oh thank god, at least SOME people are normal here.” then slowly descended into horror as she became exposed to The Bard Thing, which tragically turns out to be an actual part of dorothea’s personality (and, inexplicably, the part that people from faerun think is normal??? wyll tells lae’zel “no it’s the violently authoritative part that’s off-putting to people” and lae’zel is like. what.)

HOWEVER!!!!! both dorothea and lae’zel spent the first two acts reluctantly helping people and by the time dorothea saw the shadow curse dispersing she was like “damn. Maybe I’m actually a great person” and has decided she’s into helping people now. this will certainly make the third act a fun time for lae’zel and not at all annoying (dorothea is always annoying)

lae’zel is INCREDIBLE as the love interest durge is nearly forced to kill btw. she told dorothea to GET IT TOGETHER like 3 times whilst she was tied up and also threatened to bite back/kill her if necessary. extremely romantic and dorothea found it very reassuring

(more earnestly: this works really well since back when lae’zel tried to kill everyone in camp, dorothea lied to her well enough that lae’zel asked to be mercy-killed herself, so. mutual euthanasia promises. very very romantic)

(even more earnestly: lae’zel stopping the Romance Duel because she wants to protect dorothea instead of hurting her resonates REALLY well on a redeemed durge run. especially when you pick the dialog about “I need to protect you now” on Murdering Your Love Interest night)

(even more more earnestly: modern AU dorothea turns lae’zel into an ICP fan in her moment of extreme volatility/religious crisis. this is basically the same thing as suddenly dedicating your whole existence to the prince of the comet at the drop of a hat and surely just as healthy)

#bg3 #dorothea the dark urge bard #lae’zel #rambles include a lot of stuff about durge/lae’zel which slaps

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nostalgiachan · 3 months

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Among the Tears

Fourth Prompt: Stargazing

Act Three Spoilers

Synopsis: Vier takes a moment to reflect on a friend (734 words)

---

In all her decades living in the World Above, Vier had never been much for looking at the stars. Rosy red dawn, bright blue noon, golden sunset, all of these had been new and far more beautiful to her when she first came to the surface. Something about the heavy violet darkness, the cold light of the moon, and the distance of the stars reminded her of being back in the Underdark. But in the last few tendays since she’d returned to Dawnshire, she’d found her eyes drawn to the night sky. She knew that right then, somewhere beyond there, one of the strongest women she’d ever had the honor of knowing was fighting a battle which could very well see no end.

Vier took a seat on the ground behind the temple. She thought back to the night that Lae’zel told her about her home among the Tears of Selȗne, the string of asteroids which trailed behind the moon as it traveled about the heavens. At the time, she hadn’t put much thought into the statement. But that night, as she looked to the glowing stones overhead, she began to wonder about the reality of such a thing. She knew full well Lae’zel’s childhood had been even more fraught than her own, but if it hadn’t been…what would it have been like to live among the stars? To see the world of Toril from such an unfathomable height? Did our world shine as brightly as the moon?

Would Lae’zel ever return home?

Vier’s hands tucked into her crossed legs, the warmth bringing a gentle comfort as her mind continued to wander. Time moved much differently in the Astral Plane, she knew. How long had Lae’zel been fighting by now? Were she and Orpheus winning, or was it too early to tell? Was she…well, having fun wouldn’t be the correct word, but did she still feel that passion, that she was doing the right thing? Or did she have regrets? Not if she regretted rebelling against Vlaakith, mind; none would disagree that the lich queen needed a swift dethroning, though only time would tell whether Orpheus would be a better leader, for both the gith’s sake and for those on the Material Plane.

No, Vier wondered if Lae’zel ever regretted not staying in Faerûn. Vier certainly regretted not at least asking her to stay. Scarcely a minute had passed since they’d done the impossible and slain the Netherbrain, and she had saddled up a red dragon and flown off to another war. She wanted to tell Lae’zel that she should take time for herself, that she had given so much of her young life to one cause or another, to endless fighting, to a people who saw value only in her ability to wield a weapon and not in the sum of her person. One soldier abstaining surely wouldn’t be felt too keenly by the war effort, especially now that the Prince of the Comet was freed.

But that felt like Vier’s choice, not Lae’zel’s. Ultimately, all she really wanted was to know that Lae’zel was making this decision of her own volition - that she didn’t feel like she was doing this as a loyal weapon of one warlord or another, but that she was doing this as Lae’zel. And so, she let her go, not knowing if she would ever see her friend again.

Lae’zel wasn’t the only friend she’d let go of that morning, of course, and Vier felt a bit guilty for not thinking of them all at the same time. But this was not a time for what-abouts. Instead, she propped herself onto her knees and closed her eyes, pressing a hand to her heart.

“Lathander, Selûne, any and all who may hear my plea,” she spoke to the night sky, “I beg of you, keep a watchful eye upon my dear and true companion, the githyanki Lae’zel. Keep her safe within your loving embrace, that she may one day return home to feel your light upon her skin once more and we may rejoice in her victories. May she and her people taste true freedom at last.”

Whether Lathander or Selûne happened to receive her heartfelt prayer would be a mystery for the ages. But there was always another god whose ear she had, and she’d certainly be thanking him when her friend set foot in Faerûn once more.

#my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #drow tav #Lae'zel #vier alurlssrin

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fandomloreblog · 9 months

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Since I’m working on on my reincarnation fanfic for the Baldur’s gate characters, I figured I’d lore drop a bit on the reincarnations + Astarion and their backstories. Feel free to read “To You, 10,000 Year From Now” on Ao3!

🌟 Tav 🌟

A Half-Elf who is known for making friends wherever they go, Tav is a Baldurian, born and raised, who has dreams of becoming a famed hero and explorer. Majoring in the Paladin track, along with studying classes within the rest of the main tracks, Tav is a jack of all trades, striving for good. They mostly hang out with Shadowheart at the local Sharbucks cafe, reading and planning their grand adventures when they graduate.

🪄 Gale 🪄

Gale’s a prodigy Wizard from Waterdeep, attending Baldur’s Gate University with the assistance of a scholarship. He majors in the Wizard Track, while minoring in the Bard track as well. He’s an absolute golden retriever of a man with a hopeless crush on the half-elf paladin Tav, and he’s trying his best. He wishes to become a wizard in servitude of Mystra, but most gods and goddesses haven’t been seen in over 10,000 years, so his back-up plan is to become an arcane scholar. He mostly spends his time with Sarzes, a silver dragonborn in the Sorcerer Track, and Loki, an unaligned drow whose main focus currently is magic.

🌙 Shadowheart 🌙

An orphan whose parents were claimed in a religious accident, Shadowheart has decided to major in the Cleric track at Baldur’s Gate University, studying old god and goddess, specifically the feud between Selûne and Shar. She works at a local chain coffee cafe, Sharbucks, for extra money when she isn’t studying. She also minors in the Monk and Paladin tracks for extra studies on combat and dueling, which was where she met Tav. The two later became close friends and roommates before the events of the fic began.

🔥 Karlach 🔥

A transfer student sent from Avernus itself, Karlach is a student in the Barbarian and Fighter tracks, along with minoring in the Artificer track in order to sate her curiosity over infernal machinery. She’s constantly procuring metals and machinery to upgrade her custom motorcycle, even going so far as to steal from the annoying shop teachers, or even resorting to the local contraband dealer Enver Gortash to get her supplies. She hopes to get a job working with machinery once she graduates.

👁️ Wyll 👁️

The son of one of the Duke’s of the city, Wyll made a pact with a centuries old fiend, Mizora, in order to protect his parents from scheming rivals who plotted their demise. However, he was then outcasted by his father due to the pact, and left shunned as a result. He studies in the Warlock track at Baldur’s gate, minoring in the Ranger track for extra knowledge on hunting threats. He mostly spends his time keeping Karlach out of trouble, while also occasionally hunting Mizora’s targets when needed.

⚔️ Lae’zel ⚔️

A githyanki transfer student, Lae’zel focuses her studies in the Fighter track, while minoring in the Monk track in order to train to serve the Prince of the Comet. She is extremely cold and serious with a strong sense of justice, being known for clearing out an entire gang of goblins that had moved into a local student hangout. She doesn’t associate with most of the students on campus, rather focusing on studying and training as much as she can.

🩸 Sarzes | The Dark Urge 🩸

A silver dragonborn, Sarzes has combated with her sadistic urges all of her life, only encouraged by the demonic goblin butler Morsoffter. A major in the Sorcerer track, she also minors in the Rogue and Cleric tracks for extra stealth and healing studies. She studied at Baldur’s Gate as an excuse to move to the city, hoping to find her absent father, who supposedly suffered the same ailment as she now does. Originally hanging with the less savoury crowds on campus, mostly with Orin and Gortash, before opting to befriend Loki and Gale.

🦇 Astarion 🦇

The lone survivor of 10,000 years ago, Astarion witnessed the curse of The Scorned One entrap the souls of his friends, promising vengeance someday in the future. It is why he has remained in Baldur’s Gate, living a somewhat public life as a philanthropist and entertainer. He hopes that one day that the reincarnations of his friends will remember and seek him out. Until then, he has to worry about protecting the keys to resurrecting The Scorned One, such as the Book Of Shadows, which has now gone missing. He has levels in the Rogue and Bard classes.

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too-destiny-panda · 7 months

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Wyllvember Day 14: Lae'zel

A/N: This ended up being more about Lae'zel than Wyll himself, and I'm so sorry about that. I blame my unfamiliarity with their overall relationship throughout the game because I never take them anywhere together. Prompts are from @sagscrib and I'm also tagging @commander-yinello WC: 710

Githyanki were extremely rare in Faerun, for various reasons. Firstly, the majority of the species prefers the Astral Plane and would rather not leave it unless necessary. Secondly, those that stay on the material plane are part of a well-hidden crèche, away from prying eyes. If those prying eyes decide to impose on its sanctity, they will be swiftly gouged out. Not even the Blade of Frontiers had encountered any, though he heard rumours of sightings here and there.

So, it was little wonder that he had been fascinated by Lae’zel when he met her. She entirely different, both in appearance and upbringing, from the world he knew. Her snake like eyes that were as sharp as blade that almost seemed to glow when she was presented with a good enough opportunity to show off her skills, though she would never admit to such a thing. Her yellowish skin tone, almost devoid of some of the natural textures other humanoids had (save for the dragonborn). And her physique, which was in tip top shape as shown by her daily dawn work-out, yet it looked far too skinny to hold the weapons and wear the armour she did. A new experience all around.

He was bold in his declarations of his fascination with her and her species, commenting on her striking eyes and asking about love. Though with the way he flustered a little at her responses, it was clear he had yet much to learn about Githyanki and their customs and way of thinking. Belatedly he realised his words could be misinterpreted as flirtatious, quickly making it known that despite her being as attractive as anyone else in their group, he was not interested in her in such a way. Plus, being seen as a lesser life-from and having a lover almost zealously devoted to God queen was less than ideal.

Surprisingly, after his own revelation and facing the consequences of his pact, she was the second one out of all of them to unravel in the face of the truth. It all started with a disk about a certain Orpheus, the Prince of the Comet. Lae’zel quickly dismissed the text, claiming them to be unspeakable heresy, standing assured of her faith. The second disk they found had much of the same effect. But one can only stay in the dark for as long as light doesn’t reach them.

The first glimmer was already planted when they spoke with Kith’rak Voss, though it was quickly extinguished afterwards. But, it was reignited when Tav chose to climb into the Zaith’isk, her tadpole discreetly conveying her worry about what could potentially happen to their gith companion if it was her inside it. Of course, no-one truly thought that purification would be as simple as having a machine extract the disgusting parasite, but what happened after said machine was activated was… not entirely unprecedented, but shock-inducing, nonetheless. He had nightmares about the way their leader’s body convulsed, accompanied by their screams, for several nights after that.

When the doctor (if she could be called that), left the room in a hurry, it was quite clear she would call in reinforcements to take care of them. In the meantime, Tav was desperately trying to get Lae’zel to see reason, that this contraption wasn’t tampered with but instead that all like it were made to kill and extract memories. It was mostly futile, but that glimmer of light became a ray, and it grew with each interaction. First, with Kith’rak Terezzin, and when they entered the inquisitor’s chamber, it was clear they would have to fight.

However, the apparition of Vlaakith almost blocked that light entirely, and if it wasn’t for the tadpole, it would have been gone forever, along with Lae’zel’s life. Her faith broken, her sense of self in tatters, she agreed to join Voss as fast as possible. And despite their differences, Wyll made sure she knew that Vlaakit could never take away her determination, her prowess in all aspects of her life. She may have lost her primary purpose, but life isn’t made up of one singular goal.

And everyone around her was going to prove that to her through their own stories, whether they were aware of it or not.

#wyllvember #wyllweek #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #lae'zel #bg3 lae'zel #blue writes

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jaclynhyde · 2 months

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okay Servant classes for tadfools:

Tav/Durge: Master

Shadowheart: Lancer (can't decide if her third ascension is Selunite or she changes classes)

Astarion: Assassin

Lae’zel: Rider (dragon -> comet)

Gale: Caster (he can totally become Grand Caster)

Karlach: Berserker

Wyll: Saber (I don’t care if he casts, this man is the saberest saber that ever existed)

Emperor: Pretender (first ascension Dream Guardian, second Emperor, third [redacted])

#jh plays fgo #jh plays bg3

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knightcallie · 7 months

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Baldur's Bounties: Nicknames

At any point in life, one was given a nickname. It may be a shortening of a name, or perhaps it described something. That something could be of anything: circumstances, personalities, a moment in time, the body, favorites... Weichei contemplated the ones he has accrued over his lifetime and ones for his companions.

Weichei has been compared to a star before. He was not like the sun, something gentler. But he was not like the moon, something not so melancholic. The bright freckles on his cheeks had earned him the nickname of Starcheeks by Einar Cadmus, the paladin who gave it all up for music. His penchant for cannons and explosions earned him the name Starburst by Relentless Makatza, the gunslinger grandpa.

His partners don’t really use the star nicknames from their own language (stellino, sternchen), using his love of cherries and his family nickname. ‘Cheri’ was typically called sweetly, fondly; but he could remember the calls of exasperation and shrill shrieks. ‘Mauschen’, the little mouse of his family. He was so small compared to his absolute giants of his family, and his ever moving inquisitive ears.

But for some reason, ‘Starlight’ slips out of his lips terribly easy for the vampire spawn of the camp. Astarion, little star in elven. Star was an obvious nickname, but for some reason, Starlight, was the one that left his lips. Wyll can take calling Astarion ‘Star’ or ‘my star’.

He can remember when he first called Astarion that, it earned quite an inquisitive look. It was like seeing the stages of grief on that pale face, but not those exact emotions. Then, a bit of a forceful bark of a laugh. “That’s cute darling.”

Then he kept calling him that throughout the adventure, earning some teasing queries from the other companions. He honest to gods don’t know why it came to him so easily, but nicknames were just also a 2nd nature to him. Damon was Dage (his big brother), Dalmond, Macadamon. Lor was just lengthening it and making the names just as ridiculous. Asperitas was Peri, Pear. Volna was Voli, Vol, Spines. Beaulieu was Beau, Bear. Damiano was Dame (either sayings), ex-husband/exie/my mistake (an extremely funny explanation), dancer. Vierna was Vie, Vienna. Yasdia was Ya-ya, Yazzy. Temerity was Mer, always Mer.

His new companions also had nicknames, though some may be kept to himself.

Lae’zel was Lae, Zel, Lae’bel. Though, he’s not sure she’d be too keen with the nickname Toad being said familiarly. Suddenly, his heart ached at the memory of sharing custody of a frog and toad with Voli. They named them Missile and Toad respectively, especially fitting when Vetleviola came along.

Shadowheart was Orchid, Doe, Heart. He does shorten it to Shart from time to time in his journal. He’s sure she’d be appalled and punch his arm for it.

Wyll… bill… Duck, he landed with duck, and it stuck. The warlock hearing his reasoning admitted it was silly, but then when he explained that it also meant “dear” or “darling”, he softened.

Karlach was harder to pin, having drawled out Karl. Lackey could be seen crossed out heavily in his journals. Fireball could be used, or perhaps comet. He’s working on it, maybe Chath (drow elvish for fire) would work.

Gale took some doing. They have been calling each other bookie, for their love learning and infodumping when allowed. He could see the wizard be an Eres-blessed, majorly at that. He could’ve been Eres’ Passion, and perhaps that’s why he called him Iris.

Halsin was Hal or Bear. He did remind him of Beau, he has seen large elves before. He married Beau, and his Vaddy was built like a tank. Though in his sleepy state, he has called the wood elf Sisi.

Jaheira reminded him of a grandmother, Oma slipping easily from him. She could complain and argue she was not that old, but she holds Joma close. She was probably around his parent’s age, maybe a little older. He’s also called her Heira, she doesn’t make as much fuss.

He’s told the group the whole splattering of names he’s been given. Weichei had become Weich, Cher, Cheri, Cherry, Cherries, T’puuli, Cher bear, Little Whistle, Silver Silence, maus, mauschen, little maus, triel, little triel, starcheeks, starburst, son, Batty, pup, puppy, little bat. And more he couldn’t quite recall. He’s lived 250 years, made so many friends across the trade, taught so many.

He wondered, if the others were jealous of the type of life he’s lead. Out of everyone, he didn’t have a terribly tragic past, an abuser in his life. He’s grown up poor and constantly moved in a trade considered dangerous, but those were circumstances. His deity was quite different from the others, well the pantheon overall from his home was vastly different. They actually listened, but some do have iffy times with responses. As Eres’ passion, he was granted the blessing to be able to talk with his goddex often. Though, because the pantheon was different here, he needed a magic source to even be strong enough to get a signal.

He’s been called “my passion, passion” before, but that’s because he was chosen to be that. But hearing it fall from Gale’s lips did leave a warmth in his chest, a twinkle in his eye. Wyll took the various forms of Cheri, the familiarity just felt comforting as he leaned into the man. Astarion kept using “darling”, but that was kinda for everyone. But, he has taken to calling him mouse, finding it quite amusing especially after learning why.

#bg3 writing #writing #bg3 #bg3 tav #baldur's gate 3 #weichei zauviir #bg3 companions #i have such a backlog of writing now oh gods #weichei my beloved #nicknames can be so personal #I have a love hate with Weichei about his love life #bc he’s poly and I just KNOW he’d have crushes on the men of the party #‘WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS’ I scream #him sobbing: I DONT KNOW IM SORRY #Astarion is kinda of a whole can of worms #but ultimately I’d think it’s the friends to lovers burn #bc lord knows astarion ain’t ready for a romantic relationship yet #gale is so like him fr #also fastest way to his heart is also being a nerd #wyll fuckin unexpectedly rizzed him hard #his denseness came in so hard he would’ve squeaked in surprise when wyll goes to kiss him #he’s embarrassed of himself and could hear beau laughing thousands of miles away #it was so obvious but Weichei is KNOWN to be fucking dense #ik gale and wyll are monogamous in game BUT #this is for me anyways 😂#tbh I can see lae’zel being crushed on too bc WOW she is just an arsenal of new knowledge #but her intenseness would jar him kinda bad #ngl he probably did see a bit of his sisters in her #karach and him are besties tho #he missed that kinda enthusiasm and gives his braincells a break

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fanartfic · 1 month

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One Last Request

After braving Avernus to acquire the Orphic hammer, the companions seek to free Orpheus.

But there is an unforeseen complication….

CW: ACT III SPOILERS AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

“This is wrong, we need to free him,” Tavya said firmly,

After a disastrous first encounter with the Elder brain, the Emperor had pulled them all into the Astral plane, barely keeping them alive from the brain’s psionic assault. Now they were a hair’s breadth away from their goal of freeing Prince Orpheus, but their illithid companion was having none of it.

“He will kill you the moment you free him.” He said vehemently. “Even though you are not fully transformed, he will still see you as illithid, as a creature to be put out of its misery.”

”We will take the risk, ghaik.” Lae’Zel spat, readying the newly acquired Orphic Hammer on her shoulder.

The Emperor looked around at the rest of the companions, seeing if anyone else was in alliance with him. When he saw that none budged from their resolve, his eyes narrowed, and bore into Tavya.

“You give me no choice then, but to return to the Netherbrain.” He said. “You will come to regret this decision,”

”Why return to the brain? After everything you went through to get away from it!” Tavya shouted after him, as he opened a portal out of the Astral plane. “There is always a choice, Balduran.”

The Emperor paused at his former name, but gave no answer as he disappeared through the glowing circle and disappeared.

“Son of a bitch!” Karlach exclaimed, punching a nearby rock with a gauntleted hand. “It was never about defeating the brain with him, was it?”

Tavya bit the inside of her lip as worry began to seep into her mind. Her parasite wriggled in anticipation and she shook her head to clear the brain fog it was beginning to cause.

“Come on, lets get your prince out of there, Lae’Zel.” She said at length, turning towards the shimmering orb that held the githyanki royal in infernal chains.

“Finally!” Lae’Zel dropped the hammer from her shoulder and stalked over to where the infernal gemstones glowed with an eerie red light.

“Are you certain that freeing him is the wisest choice?” Halsin had hung back this entire encounter, in awe of what he was seeing. Tavya had told him about the Astral plane, and the illithid that had been protecting them, but he hadn’t realized just how grand of a scale everything was. He could see the flash of uncertainty in Tavya’s eyes as she set her jaw in grim determination.

“The wisest? Probably not,” she sighed. “But the right one? I believe so. Either way, we’re about to find out.”

She turned and looked up at Halsin, who laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. she glanced over to where Lae’Zel now squared up to the first of the infernal pillars. “We’ve taken advantage of him for long enough,”

There was a thunderous crack as the infernal gem shattered under Lae’Zel’s blow. The glittering dome shuddered as it's power faded. Quick work was made of the other pillar and Orpheus was finally released. He hung there for a moment, before suddenly dropping to the ground, crouched as if ready to pounce. He held out his hand and a sword flew to him as if summoned as he stood and glared at the group before him.

“You reek of Illithid,” he snarled, pointing his blade at them. “You assaulted and murdered my honor guard, left me imprisoned.” He sighed and shook his head as he sheathed his sword . “Nonetheless, it seems we must be allies.”

Laezel bowed before him.

“Your Majesty, Prince of the Comet. Gith’s true heir. It is an honour.”

”Do not patronize me. You rejected the Illithid when it no longer suited your needs. No doubt you freed me because it suits you now. I will neither forgive, nor forget, your abuse of my powers.”

Tavya strode to the front of the group. Orpheus already had her hackles up, and she wasn’t about to let him speak to her companions that way.

“First off, your honor guard attacked us. We defended ourselves, nothing more. Second, the illithid was holding all the cards until now. We freed you at our first best opportunity. Third, your power was the only thing keeping us from turning, and we couldn’t free you from the chains until we got the Orphic hammer to begin with.” Tavya said sharply. “Don’t make me regret my decision to support a friend who desperately wanted to free you,” she laid a hand on Laezel’s shoulder. “Not when we went through literal hell to obtain the means to.”

Orpheus looked at her doubtfully, but saw Laezel nod gratefully in her direction.

“Dying by the honor guard’s hand would have been an honorable outcome for one destined to become ghaik.” He said sharply. “You had the opportunity to surrender yourself. They would have given you an honorable end. They would have freed me, and I would have put an end to the elder brain before it became a Netherbrain! All of that suffering was avoidable, were it not for the choices you made!”

“Enough!” Tavya growled.

The others glanced over at her. It was rare for her to get angry, but when she did, they knew it was wise to steer clear. Karlach, Laezel, and Shadowheart knew that first hand when they were with her during their rescue of Halsin from Orin’s clutches.

“Enough,” Tav repeated, more calmly. “It is pointless to bicker. The longer we do, the stronger the Netherbrain becomes, and the closer it gets to executing the Grand Design.”

Orpheus’s glare grew less hardened. “In this, we are aligned,” he admitted. “I am obliged to overlook your transgressions.”

“I wasn’t asking you to,” Tavya walked up to him. “And once this is over, you will never have to see my face again. I’m already taking a great risk freeing you over remaining allied with The Emperor.”

“Then why free me?” Orpheus asked incredulously.

Tavya glanced back over at Laezel. “Because sometimes friendships require great risks,” she replied. “Laezel has been a loyal and stalwart ally. The least I can do is return her loyalty in kind.”

Laezel looked at her gratefully and nodded. Orpheus looked over the group before him and crossed his arms.

“Unfortunately, the Illithid was right about one thing. We still need a mind flayer to defeat the Netherbrain. I can allow the transformation, but you must choose which one of you it will be.”

Tavya felt her heart nearly stop beating. Someone still has to become illithid for this to work? She looked around at her companions, then back at Orpheus.

“Give-” her voice broke a little and she cleared her throat. “Give me some time to consult with the others.”

“Of course. But don’t deliberate for too long.” Orpheus nodded and wandered over to where the portal back to the material plane still lay, glittering in the dim light.

Tavya turned towards the others and tried to swallow down the lump forming in her throat.

“One of us still has to change,” she said quietly, not daring to look anyone in the eye.

“Well, fuck.” Karlach huffed, crossing her arms. “What was the whole point of this then?”

“To free Orpheus so my people have a chance to be freed from Vlaakith’s enslavement.” Laezel said cooly, glaring at Karlach.

“Well, excuse me for feeling miffed, cause now we're short a mind flayer, and the only other one we knew died in the Iron Throne!” Karlach shot back.

“My people deserve to be freed from their enslavement!”

“Well my people deserve to not be mind flayers!”

“Stop arguing!”

Karlach and Lae'Zel looked over at Tavya, who stood with her fists clenched. “Just. . . stop.” She said in resignation, as she looked up at Halsin. “I'll do it.”

Halsin’s eyes widened and he immediately strode over to her. “My heart, no!” He pleaded, taking her hands in his.

“I can't be responsible for someone else’s death, Halsin. It has to be this way.”

“Tav. . .” Karlach stepped towards her hesitantly. “No, there has to be another way.”

Tavya looked up at the friends that were begging with her to not turn illithid. “I can't see another way.”

Lae'Zel, who had hung back and remained quiet, strode past the group towards Orpheus. She bowed before her prince, then stood up straight and squared her shoulders.

“I will do it.” She said with unwavering surety.

“Laezel-” Tavya began

“Do not try to stop me.” Lae'Zel cut Tav off with a wave of her hand. “The only other option we have is for Orpheus to turn with the astral tadpole, and I will not deprive my people of their champion. . . Nor will I deprive those I care about the chance to truly live.”

“But what about you?” Karlach asked, walking over to her. “You deserve a chance too.”

Lae'Zel shook her head. “My path will always lead to blood and war. Yours will lead to a peaceful life with people who care for you.”

“But, I don't know that. There's a good chance I'm going to burst into flames after this. Let me do it.”

“No, I have decided.” Lae'Zel nodded sharply and turned back towards Orpheus. Just as she was about to give him the go ahead, she paused, and turned to Tavya.

“I will speak with you a moment, alone.”

Tavya nodded and followed Lae'Zel until they were out of earshot. “Lae'Zel, you don't-” she began.

“I made my decision. I have another matter to discuss with you.” She said solemnly. “Once everything is through, I want you to make sure I die a good death. . . An honorable one.”

Tav felt a chill go up her spine. After the initial shock of what Lae'Zel was asking, she grasped the gith by the shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes.

“I can see there is no dissuading you.” She said, the weight of the request settling in her heart as she said her next words. “I give you my word. It will– it will be quick. It will be among friends, and it will be with honor.”

Lae'Zel nodded in satisfaction and turned to go, but found herself in Tavya’s arms as she embraced her. She slowly returned the gesture, unsure of herself before she held Tavya in a fierce hold.

“You have always stood by me in everything.” She said quietly. “If only every gith could have an ally such as you.”

“Perhaps we’ll meet again one day. In another life, another place.” Tavya pulled away and cupped Lae'Zel's cheek on her hand. “You will be remembered as a hero, and you will never truly die.”

Lae'Zel strode towards Orpheus with renewed determination.

“You talked her out of it, right?” Karlach asked Tav as she walked over to Halsin’s side.

“No. . . Her mind is made up.” Tavya replied.

Halsin wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Then we have only one thing left to do.” He leaned over and kissed the top of Tav’s head.

Tav looked on as the transformation began.

“Yes. . . We have a Netherbrain to destroy.”

It was a quick, but gruesome process as Orpheus lowered his protection, allowing Lae'Zel to fully change into a mind flayer. He cringed at her transformation, but kept his disgust at bay.

“Your bravery and sacrifice will be written across the stars.” He said, turning towards the portal. “Now, come quickly. Time is short.”

Lae'Zel hovered in place, getting used to her new body. Tavya wondered if her soul was still there, or if the tadpole had assimilated enough of her to emulate her stoic personality.

She didn't have time to wonder. The acrid smell of smoke hit her nose as she leapt through the shimmering portal.

Baldur's Gate was in flames.

#baldurs gate tav #baldur’s gate fanfiction #fanfic #my tav #bg3 halsin #halsin x tav #baldurs gate 3 #character art #i might be obsessed #illustration

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