About me: 30s, she/ they, swashbuckler rogue, hurt/ comfort, monster fics, d&d, and putting Sad Boys in Situations
ℭ𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔥𝔡 (#Dorumark)
Into Unmapped Darkness - Finished - Long Fic (Wc 65k) | M | M/M gothic romance in which Doru, a traumatized rebel-turned-vampire; Ismark, a bleeding heart who needs a nap; and sunshiny grave cleric attempt to turn Castle Ravenloft into a rehab center for the undead. Fandom-blind friendly! [Ao3 Link]
Hurt/ Comfort, Found Family, Friends-to-Lovers, Trauma Healing
Life Among the Undead - Finished - One shot | G | A tie-in story for Into Unmapped Darkness, in which Doru copes with parental anxiety by becoming a bat. [Ao3 Link]
Dorumark commissions:
Commission by @yarrow-leaf
Commission by @wifehorrors
Commission by @ampreh
Commission by @shrimpari
Commission by @annirisi
𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔡𝔲𝔯'𝔰 𝔊𝔞𝔱𝔢 ℑℑℑ (#Lukastarion)
Let’s Make Ourselves Comfortable - Finished - One shot | G | It's Bite Night. Only Luka Morrigan (Tav) is a dhampir from Barovia, and he can bite back. [Ao3 Link]
Pain Without Purpose is a Terrible Thing - Finished - One shot | M | Loviatar's Blessing scene. Perhaps this dhampir from Barovia is not such a saint after all? [Ao3 Link]
More than a Thing to Be Used - Finished - One shot | T | Act II Confession Scene(s). At the Last Light Inn, Astarion discovers the healing power of back rubs. [Ao3 Link]
The Monsters We Choose - Finished - One shot | M | House of Healing. Two starving blood drinkers in the Shadow Cursed Lands—what could go wrong? [Ao3 Link]
Luka Morrigan Tav commission by @kissmedevil
Luka Tav Intro Post
𝔒𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔚𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤
Battle Clerics (#BattleClerics) - WIP - Gods lend their powers to children to fight off a hive of invading aberrations, and said children grow up to become broke, traumatized adults when that turns out to be a bad idea, actually. Gives the vibes of: Fire Emblem 3H, Baldur's Gate III, ATYD.
Tropes: Magic War College, Forbidden Romance, Living Weapon, Chosen One, Eldritch Horrors.
A moment in the weave leaves Ada with a storm of emotions.
For the song she sings, check out "Ich bin es nicht" from the German Wicked Soundtrack!
Please mind the Content Warnings for this fic! If you want to start at the very beginning, check here.
Read the full fanfic on AO3 now 🗡️
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The party had slowly dispersed and the air had cooled in the grove. Ada felt relieved by the quiet and the break from the heat of the day.
When she found Gale, a little away from the camp, he stood with his back to her, his head bowed, his focus entirely on his open palm. From where she stood, she could see a faint lavender light emanating from his hand. Curious, Ada stepped closer, squinting to make out the details in the dim glow.
In his palm hovered an image, not just a light but the head of a woman.
She was ethereal and impossibly beautiful. Her features were delicate yet commanding; sharp, regal cheekbones, her hair swept back from her face, a diadem resting on her brow. The faint glow that surrounded her head pulsed softly, like the rhythm of a heartbeat.
The centre of the diadem was made up of a big, eight-pointed star in the exact shape of Gale’s earring.
Gale was standing there, gazing at the image with an expression she had never seen on him before. It was as if he were looking at a long-lost memory.
Ada cleared her throat, and Gale jumped, startled by the sudden sound. He quickly closed his hand, snuffing out the image.
"Oh my, Ada... you startled me. I was miles away."
"I’m sorry," Ada said, stepping a little closer. "Are you alright, Gale?"
He hesitated, his expression clouding with sadness as he gazed at the spot where Mystra’s image had been. "Just... pondering what I lost," he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically sombre.
"Mystra is my goddess; she commands all magic. Salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold. And yet, even now, more than I fear losing my own self and soul, I fear losing my command of her art."
Ada’s eyes widened. So that had been Mystra, the goddess of magic? The goddess Gale had called to for help in semi-consciousness.
His voice wavered slightly, and he looked down, defeated. "Magic is my life. I've been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There’s nothing like it... it’s like music, poetry, physical beauty, all rolled into one and given expression through the senses."
Ada could hear the depth of emotion in his words, and it struck her: this was not the confident and arrogant, scholarly Gale she knew. He seemed exposed and defeated somehow.
He is in love with magic itself, Ada realised. This stirred something within her, an unease she didn’t fully understand.
"That’s why I asked you to seek me out," Gale continued, his voice soft but earnest. "To offer you a taste of such wonders. Would you like me to show you?"
There was a hint of hope in his tone, and Ada couldn’t bring herself to refuse. She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I’d love that."
Gale smiled then and stepped closer, positioning himself beside her. Their bodies were almost touching. The proximity made her heart skip a beat and she tried to ignore the flicker of warmth that spread through her chest.
“Watch me closely,” he instructed.
With a precise movement of his arms, he summoned a bright, sparkling light, tinged with a purple hue that looked inviting and friendly.
"Now, you," he said, his gaze steady on her, expectant and encouraging. Ada tried to mirror his movements, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Slowly, she traced the same patterns with her hand, and to her surprise, the same light appeared before her.
As the magic swirled, she felt a sensation like a kind word, a warm touch. It was comforting, familiar in a way she couldn’t explain.
"Excellent!" Gale exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm. Ada couldn’t help but smile at his excitement, her heart swelling with pride at his approval.
But the feeling was also disconcerting. What was happening to her lately? Why did his praise affect her so much? There was something more, something unfamiliar that unsettled her.
Gale’s voice interrupted her thoughts. "Now, repeat after me."
He recited a short spell, and Ada listened intently, trying to memorise every syllable.
Carefully, she repeated the words, her voice steady, and suddenly, the scent of rosewater filled the air. The feeling of well-being wrapped around her, and a sliver of the Weave, sweet and delicate, lingered on her tongue.
"Very good!" Gale’s praise made her blush, her cheeks warming against her will.
What was wrong with her? She had never been so affected by his approval before. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, or of him, in that moment.
"Now, I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony, as true as you can," Gale said, his voice calm but insistent.
Ada closed her eyes and thought of a moment from her old life.
She was in a crowded concert hall, surrounded by people, all singing along to a song that filled the space. The vibration of the music, the tenderness of the lyrics, all permeated her body and soul. That was harmony.
As the image took hold, something shifted. Ada felt a presence—familiar and yet strange. The woman from Gale’s palm was there, but this time, Ada could sense her, instead of seeing her.
She turned to Gale, finding him standing even closer to her now, watching her intently. His eyes sparkled with wonder, and something in her stomach fluttered. There was an undeniable pull between them, something warm and magnetic.
In the Weave, the sensation was almost like the anticipation of a kiss, followed by the pleasure of being cloaked in peace. Ada felt safe, as if she were nestled in the cup of Mystra’s hand.
Gale chuckled, his voice filled with delight. "Ha! You did it! You’re channelling the Weave! Tell me, how does it feel?"
Ada struggled to find the right words, her thoughts still spinning from the sensation. "Comforting," she said, after a moment. Her brow furrowed. "Like I was being... held?" Her voice faltered on the last word, unsure.
Gale nodded, still smiling. "That it does."
The connection between them deepened, the Weave making them one. Ada let herself sink into it, drifting in this soothing sensation. And then, an image flashed through her mind.
She could feel his breath ghost across her skin. His temple rested on her collarbones as his head was placed on her chest. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her to him tightly.
She sat in his lap, her thighs around his waist. One of her hands was on his side and her thumb lazily traced over the soft fabric of his shirt. Her other hand was in his hair. Gently, her fingers raked through the wavy strands that fell to his shoulders.
Ada felt safe with him. She looked down at him and felt a tender pull in her heart. It was a peaceful and intimate moment…
That’s when she snapped out of it, the warmth of the moment replaced with the sharp lightning of embarrassment.
She dared a glance at Gale, wondering how he would react.
His face was flushed, his expression a mixture of surprise and something else; something she couldn’t quite name.
He stuttered, his voice shaky. "Sorry, I wasn’t expecting... Not that the image was unpleasant, to be sure... Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome, even if..."
He trailed off as the magic between them faded, and with it, the warmth of the Weave. The night suddenly felt cold and lonesome.
Gale collected himself, his voice soft and sad. "Oh... there it goes. How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were in the obtaining."
He straightened, forcing a smile. "Good night, Ada. I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you."
He offered her one last, sincere smile before turning and walking back to his bedroll and the campfire, leaving her standing there, alone.
Ada stood frozen, her emotions tangled and raw. She couldn’t process the abruptness of the evening’s end.
The anticipation she had felt before coming here, the excitement of channelling the magic, the transcendent feeling of the Weave. All of it still swirled inside her.
And then there were her feelings for Gale, feelings she hadn’t fully understood before tonight.
They unsettled her, left her questioning not just her bond with him, but what lay beneath it. Had she scared him off with that image? Had she ruined the easy companionship they had built?
As the night closed in around her, Ada wondered if things would ever be the same.
Ada knew she would find no rest like this; with her head still spinning and her heart aching and tender. So she decided to take up the lute and find a quiet corner of the grove.
She found the grove was transformed in the light of the moon.
Gone was the nervous bustle, the lingering distrust and the whispered arguments between druids and refugees. In their place was a deep and soothing silence, like a balm laid gently over frayed nerves.
Moonlight filtered through the leaves, painting the stones silver and the moss a dark, rich green. The air was cooler now, tinged with the scent of damp earth, crushed thyme, and wildflowers that bloomed under starlight.
Cicadas hummed softly in the underbrush, and the wind rustled the branches above her in a slow, affectionate murmur.
Ada tilted her head back, gazing up at the stars and exhaled loudly.
There was an old, quiet magic here she could feel like silk touching her skin. As if the grove itself were alive and cloaking its inhabitants in serenity.
She wandered a little longer until she found a tree that had grown around a large boulder, curling its roots lovingly around the stone like a sleeping giant cradling its treasure. The roots formed a natural bench, padded with moss.
Ada thought it looked like the throne of a nature deity and decided it was a good place to find rest and soothe herself.
Settling down with her legs crossed, she tested the lute’s feeling in her hands. Carefully, she plucked at the strings, trying to get familiar with the differences between this instrument and her guitar at home.
To her satisfaction, she found the two extra strings were easily integrated into her muscle memory and she began to pluck a few notes from the instrument.
“Magie lockt, Zauber lacht; sie ist wie für ihn gemacht.
Angesicht zu Angesicht.
Seine Art von Frau.
Ich weiß genau, ich bin es nicht.
Gib auf, lass los! Manche Wünsche schmerzen bloß.
Wen interessiert, ob mein Herz zerbricht.
Er bemerkt es kaum.
Sie ist sein Traum; ich bin es nicht.”
A few words had changed while they had left her throat. Her eyes stung and as she blinked, a couple of tears made their way down Ada’s cheek.
She had been in this world for an entire week now. With all that had happened, it felt ten times as long. She had gone from denial to realisation to exhausted acceptance: This was real and she was on this strange plane now.
It had all felt like a dream at first, albeit a nightmare. Her new body, her companions and the threats they were facing.
She had told herself she imagined the pull she felt towards Gale and the way he made her seen and safe. The tadpole, she had reasoned, was the explanation for this connection to him.
But she no longer had the luxury of this delusion. She had feelings for Gale, that were different from any affection and friendship she had felt before.
Not in the way her friends had spoken about people they wanted physically. She had never felt attraction like that, though she had to admit he was handsome.
What she felt was more a longing to be held and cherished, to trust someone enough to not fear being completely seen by them.
Ada took a shuddering breath and a sigh escaped her.
Don’t be pathetic, the voice in her head scoffed. You saw him look at his goddess. You heard him call to her when he was injured. And you still hope he might have noticed how you comforted him?
And even if he had: As soon as the tadpole was removed, Ada would leave this place again, set off on her own mission to find a way back home. Their paths would split and she would disappear from his life.
So why open yourself up to embarrassment? Wasn’t tonight enough? Why hope that, whatever it is you want to give him, could be enough?
Her hand went to the pendant of her necklace, tracing the round shape with her thumb.
With another deep sigh, she got up from her throne, carefully picked up her lute and slowly walked back to camp.
I think ao3 is literally the only site where no censorship means no censorship. you can post the most vile things on there — things that will get taken down on any other platforms — and ao3 will protect you, your works, and your rights to create whatever you want, however you want.
and no, this isn’t me saying “write that messed up, disgusting thing” because while, yes, write it if it’s what you want (I myself enjoy writing dark fics, something I believe would be considered “vile” to a lot of people), this is me saying in a world of censorship and capitalism, ao3 really is a treasure.
Had a thought yesterday that went "all of [author's] novels are identical and I love that, I love the way they do it and I wish they'd write five times as many so I'd never run out" & realised that probably other people think like this and it's fine to just do the same thing over and over again because there will be someone who thinks that about your thing
The companions make their first steps into the forsaken temple of Selûne.
Please mind the Content Warnings for this fic! If you want to start at the very beginning, check here.
Read the full fanfic on AO3 now 🗡️
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When they arrived at the grove, half a dozen figures were already waiting atop the gate. Ada spotted Zevlor instantly by the light of the sunset reflecting on his armour.
He motioned to a young tiefling next to him to open the gate and turned away, making his way down to greet them.
But when he finally stood face-to-face with them, he froze.
“Zevlor.” Wyll politely inclined his head. His voice was still hoarse from the pressure the hobgoblin had put on his throat. Dark purple blemishes were visible around his neck.
“By Dhelt's virtue”, older man gasped, “the Blade of Frontiers? What’s happened to you?”
“I paid the price of angering the wrong devil.”
A moment passed as Zevlor contemplated Wyll’s words. Then he patted the warlock’s shoulder. It looked both fatherly and hesitant.
“Believe me,” Zevlor said slowly, “I understand better than most.”
Then he turned to the group, his eyes meeting Ada’s as he speaks. “A scout just reported that the goblins have abandoned the temple. There is no more trace of them to be found. We might escape this place yet.”
He hesitated, fumbling at a leather pouch at his belt.
“I took a collection. From all of us. It isn’t much, but—”
“No.” Wyll and Ada said in unison. Zevlor looked surprised.
Astarion was aghast. He took the pouch of gold from Zevlor’s hands and pocketed it in a smooth motion. Then, he inclined his head to the tiefling with a sly smile.
To the rest of his companions, he added, “We will need this money on our journey. To buy food, passage, beds...”
“Oh, do shut up, will you?” Wyll bickered. “I see the new rings on your fingers. And I hear your pockets clink with coin from the hobgoblin’s hoard.”
“Yes,” Astarion said slowly, “red and gold do rather suit my skin tone, don’t they, darling?” He met Wyll’s gaze. “Your point is?”
Zevlor was quick to intervene and defuse the tension. “We are deeply grateful. I don’t have words to express our relief.”
“Thank you, Zevlor. I’m glad we could help.” Ada could not quite believe they deserved that much praise. In the end, they had mostly gone for their own benefit.
Zevlor gave her a smile, then said, “Halsin will likely want to thank you, too, mind. He returned some time before you. He has been looking after your two companions while Nettie tried to patch up Liam and the bard.”
So the others had all made it back as well. Ada felt relief rattling the fragile construct of her composure. All she could do was nod.
“Not before he stopped the ritual, though. I believe he will be catching up with Kagha any minute now.” He sighed, and then added, “I want to leave this grove, but let us not speak of farewells now. We’ll join your camp tonight to celebrate, if you’ll have us.”
Wyll thanked him and said he was looking forward to it, while all Ada could feel was the weight of lead on her shoulders and the dread of a party when all she wanted to do was collapse.
They made their way further into the grove, toward the sacred pool. The atmosphere had loosened since the ritual had been stopped. Ada spotted Arabella run through the grass with some of the other children. Arron, the trader, was chatting with a group of young tieflings.
The lush green of the Sacred Pool opened before them and they found Kagha standing in the same spot her druids had chanted the words of the rituals a few days earlier. Her arms were crossed tightly before her chest like a petulant child.
Halsin towered over her. His brow was drawn in anger and his voice boomed through the grove.
“You took it upon yourself to undertake the Rite of Thorns! I ought to exile you from this place. Forever.” He paused and took a deep breath to calm himself.
“Instead, I shall listen to the explanation that you owe me.”
Kagha exhaled disapprovingly. “I owe you nothing. Goblins swarmed us like roaches while you stumbled after the past!”
She raised her head to meet his eyes, apparently not the least bit intimidated by him. “You chose to abandon us. I chose to protect us!”
“Silence!” Halsin yelled.
Ada flinched. His fury was just, and yet his loud voice made Ada feel unsafe for the first time in his presence.
“The rite has been ended.” Halsin continued in a clipped tone. “I will allow you to stay. But consider yourself a novice anew. You have forgotten the ways of the druids. Our place in the natural order. You shall learn it all once again, right here.”
He paused, waiting for any sign of remorse on Kagha’s face. But her expression remained indignant.
“Backslide, and nature’s fury will crush you.”
A breath of silence, then Kagha bowed emphatically in submission. “As you wish, Master Halsin.”
However, the way she emphasised his title was defiant.
Halsin nodded at her dismissively and turned his eyes to the companions. They stepped closer and bowed slightly in greeting.
“That’s all?” Shadowheart asked in disbelief. “She tried to imprison a child and send all those people to their doom.”
Halsin nodded gravely. “A misjudgement. One that should weigh heavily upon her. But the grove still needs her passion.”
He shook his head.
“Enough of that for now – I owe you my thanks. The grove stands. Nature prevails. And your friends have mostly recovered. They will join your camp before the party tonight.”
Ada felt his eyes linger on her.
“What happens now?” she asked hesitantly. “How do we get rid of these damn parasites?”
Halsin hummed and nodded as if only now remembering the thing that had made them cross paths in the first place.
“Sadly, I didn’t find what I came for in the temple, which was a way to remove the tadpoles. But—” he raised a hand to silence Astarion’s and Lae'zel’s frustrated reactions. “But, I found the next best thing. I found out where they come from.”
“Moonrise Towers”, Wyll supplied.
“Exactly. That must be where these enchantments are placed on them, and it’s where you’ll find your cure! I overheard that the cultists are sending all of their captives to Moonrise Towers. Innocents go in, True Souls come out.”
“Given that all of these True Souls are infected, it has to be the source of this magic. If you want to find a cure, you must head there and discover how the tadpoles are being manipulated.”
Ada did not like the sound of that. The little information Wyll and Gale had shared about that place seemed enough of a warning to avoid it at any cost.
“Chk. I told you to head for the crèche. The druid knows nothing while my kind hold the answer.”
Halsin did not seem offended at Lae'zel’s outburst.
Shadowheart’s eyes however were narrowed at the gith. “We don’t even know if we can trust your kind. And I would rather not venture into the mountains and be slaughtered by them.”
“The journey to Moonrise Towers would take you through those mountains regardless.” Halsin said calmly. “And while I am not keen on entering a githyanki crèche, I would offer you my support.”
There was a silence as they all looked at him in disbelief.
“If… you would let me join your camp, that is.” Halsin added, putting into words what the group was struggling to understand.
Ada tried to make sense of this. “So you want to travel with us. Why?”
The druid hesitated for just a moment. “I have been to Moonrise Towers before and have seen the horrendous curse upon it. My knowledge would be useful to you.”
Another silence. They could all feel he was leaving something out. But none of them would reject the offer of help outright.
“Alright.” Ada said, “Join us once we break camp tomorrow and we will take you with us.”
The druid nodded again. “You have my thanks. We will meet at the tiefling’s celebration tonight. Take some time for yourself. Rest, celebrate. Come morning, I’ll be by your side.”
They made camp inside the grove this time, in a wide clearing not far from the river the druids used to wash themselves.
Now that they were surrounded by nature, Ada realised how badly they all reeked of unspeakable things.
She had thought herself hardened after living in a big city for over a decade and having crossed dimly lit corridors below the main station in Frankfurt before. But this was worse. By a lot.
And since skipping the tiefling party was not an option, she decided to take a bath. Her hair was sticky with sweat, goblin viscera and cobwebs and she needed to scrub Gale’s blood from under her nails and out of her clothes.
So, with a groan, she rummaged through her backpack, pulling out the white top from home she’d washed a few days ago, a linen cloth she could use as a towel, and the soap and oils from the apothecary. Those were a luxury, but one Ada was fiercely protective of.
She slipped away from the bustle of the camp, soles crunching softly through pine needles and underbrush, until she reached a quiet bend of the stream. Trees leaned protectively overhead, casting dappled shadows on the mossy bank. No one could see her here. It was safe.
The clothes came off quickly. There was no romance in peeling off blood-slicked fabric. She brought them down to the water with her. They’d need a proper scrub.
But for a moment, she stood there, naked in the light of the setting sun, looking down at her body.
She hadn’t had the time, or the desire, to truly look since all of this began. There had barely been time for the occasional rinse, a splash of cold water to the face, cleaning her arms or neck in haste. But now, she let her hands travel.
Her fingers brushed over her arms, her sides, her belly. She was glad to still see the familiar shapes of her tattoos across her right forearm and thigh.
This still feels like me, she thought. Despite the different hue.
She pressed her thumb against one of the dark scars on her lower belly, then traced others along her side. They were old. A quiet ache stirred in her chest.
Ada thought back to the cleric from the goblin camp, inflicting scars on himself in worship. Hers had been inflicted in disgust and desperation.
Ada shivered.
For all the changes the transformation had brought, these scars had remained. But the faded scar on her shin, the one from learning to ride a bike as a child? Gone. As if it had never existed.
She didn’t know why. Not really.
Maybe the strange cleric’s goddess had decided her scars were worship as well. Maybe some scars were to deep for even magic to erase them.
Ada set her clothes and soap down on a rock at the edge of the water and ventured into the river.
The water was clear and icy cold despite, the summer heat. Tiny needles prickled against her shin and her feet, then her thighs. As the water reached her hips, her hands were shaking.
She welcomed it. Let it shock her system, drive out the fog and tension that clung to her like cobwebs. She waded in to her waist, then stopped.
Bent over slightly, she clutched her shaking hands to her chest. Her entire body was shaking now and it was not from the cold.
Heaving sobs wrecked her body, washing over her in waves as she fought to gain back control over herself.
Every breath she took felt like it snagged on something tight in her chest. She felt hollow and like she might be bursting at the seams; overcrowded and incredibly, painfully lonely.
Ada knew she could wash the events of the last days off her skin and out of her hair, but these memories would stay with her. There had been devils and punishments. Goblins eating their victims and delighting in the pain of others.
And blood.
There had been a lot of it. Not just spilled by the cultists, but also by her. She had killed on the nautiloid in shock and confusion, but today, she had let the spiders loose on the goblins with a cold sort of satisfaction.
Her fear, the violence, the pain. It felt like it wanted to leave her body all at once. She closed her eyes, let the stream rush past her, and let herself feel it. Just for a moment.
A twig snapped behind her.
Ada flinched and spun around, water splashing as she hastily wrapped her arms around her chest.
Karlach stood at the edge of the stream, blinking in surprise. “Sorry, Sparkles,” she said, lifting both hands in apology. “Didn’t notice you’d come out this way.”
There was no awkwardness in her voice, her eyes never dropped below Ada’s collarbones. If Karlach noticed Ada’s body, she gave no sign of it. Just looked at her face like that was all there was to see.
Then, Karlach tilted her head with furrowed brows. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I— sorry. It’s nothing.”
“Nah,” Karlach shook her head. Her voice was softer now, and she looked at Ada expectantly.
Ada felt her face flush, and words failed her. There was a longer pause.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked suddenly, already fidgeting at the straps across her chest. “Just came back from the Hollow, you see. Saw Dammon and got a bit of an upgrade.”
She thumped her chest once, twice. The sound echoed metallically.
“He says a bath might be possible now. Though touch is still out of the question, I fear. So that hug you’ve been desperate to give me…” She winked. “That’ll have to wait.”
Ada blinked, letting out a raspy laugh. Her shoulders dropped, just a little. She really liked Karlach, although they had only known each other a few days.
On the riverbank, Karlach waited, one brow raised.
“Yeah,” Ada said. “Come in.”
With a grateful sigh, Karlach peeled off the rest of her armour and hopped into the water with a splash. A great hiss followed, steam wafting up around her.
“Gods, that’s the stuff,” she groaned, floating onto her back with her eyes closed.
Ada looked at Karlach’s exposed side while she floated. She could not see a sign of the wound Minthara had left there. She was glad Halsin had been there to heal her friend.
Ada turned back to her own task. She lathered her hair with the block of soap, fingers working through tangles. Then, wading toward the shallower end where the stream reached only her knees, she crouched to scrub the dried blood and filth from her skin.
She stood a few moments later, pushing her wet hair from her face, then froze. Karlach was watching her.
Ada tensed, arms twitching as if to cover herself. Her chest tightened. She braced herself; for a glance, a comment, a joke. About her soft belly, about her thighs. About the scars.
“This was your first battle, wasn’t it?”
Ada was taken by surprise by this. “No, I mean… I fought on the nautiloid. And when we first got to this grove. But before that… I never…”
Her voice faded out and she felt her lower lip tremble again. She fought the urge to turn away from Karlach. At this point, that would just seem childish.
“I remember my first weeks in Avernus.” Karlach said compassionately. “I’d been in a brawl before, had done some bodyguard work for this one guy. But nothing could have prepared me for the blood of battle. And for seeing death first hand.”
Another silence. The only disruptions were Ada’s suppressed sniffles.
“It is the knowledge, that I took a life,” Ada started slowly. She had to find her way through her own feelings as she spoke before she could continue, “And the fact that I feel dirty because of it. I never thought I could actually do it. And I am starting to realise… I will have to kill again. To stay alive. To keep us all safe.”
“I am sorry.” Ada said finally. “I really thought my spell would protect you. And I never wanted—“
“What are you talking about?” Karlach sounded surprised. “Sparkles, it did work. I felt it!”
Ada looked at her in disbelief. “But, Gale…”
“He took a knife to the heart and he lives!” She laughed. “Halsin thinks your protection is all that held him together long enough to get healed. Not that is wasn’t a close call…”
Ada was crying again, from equal parts relief and embarrassment.
“I barely got a scratch from that drow. Neither did Astarion or Wyll.” Her voice was soft now, much more gentle than her usual tone.
“Thank you, Karlach.” Ada was deeply grateful for her words. “I… am not a fighter. I told you I barely have control over my own magic. And that fight, it terrified me.”
Karlach hummed in response. She too had begun to scrub at the bloodstains on her skin.
“Tell you what,” she said after another moment of silence. “I don’t think we’ll make a brawler out of you anytime soon. But I could show you some basics. How to throw a punch. How to keep your wits about you in the chaos.”
“Really?”
“Why not? I reckon this was not the last fight we get into. And I don’t want you getting stabbed, because you ran around like a headless chicken.”
Karlach laughed at her own joke then, and Ada felt even warmer towards her than she had before.
Excuse me when I get a bit emotional, this is one of my favourite scenes I have ever written!
Please mind the Content Warnings for this fic! If you want to start at the very beginning, check here.
Read the full fanfic on AO3 now 🗡️
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Ada had hardly thought it possible that the stench inside the temple could get any worse. But the air of the worg pens was so thick with heat and the smell of faeces, blood, and wet dogs that it felt almost viscous.
In front of them was a stone balustrade framed by two pillars, with steps leading down to the right and left. The level below was an open space. On the opposite wall were two chambers, closed by heavy iron gates.
Behind the left gate lurked two worgs, hyena-like mounts that Ada had already seen outside the grove. Their eyes were filled with hatred and saliva dripped from between their sharp teeth.
The right gate was besieged by several goblins: one adult and three younger figures.
One of the children threw a stone at the bear and hit its head. The bear bared its teeth and roared so loudly that Ada thought she could feel it vibrating in her midriff.
Liam hadn't been exaggerating. This brown bear was exceptionally large, at least six feet tall on all fours. Despite the size of the cell, he looked cramped.
“See?! It squealed!" one of the goblins yelled happily.
“Hit it again!” another demanded. “Again! Again! Make it squeal again!”
Ada moved forward, practically flying down the right set of stairs towards the goblins. “What the fuck are you doing?”
With Wyll beside her, Ada tried to look as imposing as possible before the four goblins.
The older goblin looked up at her, like she was assessing if Ada was stupid. “It makes funny noises. We made it squeal! The beast came in here with those robbers. Killed Dink – and Mince, too.”
The bear had noticed Ada and fixed it with its dark, round eyes and growled. “Stop them. Free me.” it demanded.
Again, the young goblins squealed with joy and one of them bent down to pick up another stone from the rubble on the floor to hurl it at the bear.
With a long stride forward, Ada slapped the stone out of the child’s hand. It sneered at her, showing its pointed yellow teeth.
The taller goblin pulled out a dagger, directing it at Ada’s belly. “What’re ya doin’? Get lost if you can’t stand a bit of rough-housin!” she hissed up at Ada.
“Yeah, get lost! Or Birka ‘ere will gut you like a fish!" one of the younger ones piped up.
Wyll was beside her in a second, his rapier drawn in expectation of further threats or violence.
With a gruesome metallic screech, the iron gate burst from its hinges as the bear threw himself against it. It buried two of the smaller goblins beneath it, and the druid in bear form lunged forward.
Another metallic sound cam from behind Ada and Wyll.
On the lower side of the balustrade that separated the open space from the higher part of the room, a rough wooden table had been placed against the wall. A goblin stood there, in the half-shadow, chopping away at horrifying looking bits of meat and entrails to feed the worgs.
His large meat cleaver was still in his hand, blood dripping from its blade to the floor. With angry little eyes he fixed Ada and Wyll and made a step toward them.
Now we’ve done it, Ada thought, now we’ll be slaughtered by these goblins and roasted over the fire next to the dwarf.
While Ada still frantically thought about a way to escape their doom, Lae'zel landed next to her with a soft thud and a low clanking of her silver armour.
For a moment, the pens were dead silent. The anticipation of a fight was in the air.
Lae'zel drew her greatsword as she turned to the butcher. “Time for blood," she said in a low voice. Her determination gave Ada chills.
As she ran down the few stairs, Karlach roared and the flames around her intensified. They licked up her calves, her arms and her torso. She was literally burning with battle fury.
An arrow hissed past Ada and hit the stone behind her. Astarion had taken to the shadows on the opposite wall and was taking aim with his shortbow, while Shadowheart passed in front of him, making her way down the other set of stairs.
The remaining goblin child stumbled as Birka pushed it towards the stairs. “Go ring the alarm! We’ve got a situation here!”
“Don’t let them escape or the entire camp will be upon us!" the bear roared as it stood up on its hind legs to bring his claws down on the goblin in front of it.
Wyll’s blade missed the sprinting little goblin by a hair’s breadth and Karlach was too focused on getting into the thick of the fight to notice the small creature.
A blinding golden light flew across the pens. Shadowheart had flung her conjured spell and it found its mark with a bright swooshing sound.
The goblin squeaked and then fell.
Ada did not know where to move; her hands were shaking. She turned and took a step back from the centre of the fight. Her back was toward the stone wall that separated the pens.
The butcher had evaded Lae'zel’s sword and was moving towards Ada now. His eyes fixed on something next to her.
Instinctively, Ada jumped aside, scared he might turn his blade against her. But it was the lever on the wall he reached for.
The door to the other cell swung open with a grinding metallic sound. The goblin had freed the two worgs inside.
Slowly, they now moved out of the relative darkness of their enclosure as if analysing the situation before getting into the fight.
Each one of them was hit by flashes of red light that flew from the balustrade straight towards them. They howled and snarled as they were hit, but it did nothing to dissuade them from joining the fight.
If anything, they seemed angrier.
Ada turned to where the spell had come from. Gale stood on the high ground behind the balustrade with his hands raised. His fingers moved in small, precise movements, as if he were playing an invisible instrument. Ada thought she noticed the slightest tremor in them, as if he was in pain.
The fine tendrils of his tattoo seemed to glow faintly as he called the magic to his fingers.
Gale’s posture was straight and dignified, his lips pressed together in concentration. Lines had formed between his eyebrows, which, as Ada already knew, appeared when he was focused.
Then, his expression shifted.
Gale's eyes widened in shock, his mouth opening in a pain-filled cry. He fell to his knees, then hit the ground with his right shoulder.
Behind Gale, the outline of a woman came into view. She was smaller than him, lean but strong. Her purple-blue skin contrasted sharply with her snow-white hair and her red eyes glowed with fury and hatred.
Minthara.
Her left hand was still raised, holding the dagger with which she had stabbed Gale in the back. None of them had noticed her enter the worg pens as they had squabbled with the goblins.
No! Ada’s chest clenched and she thought for a moment her body had forgotten to breathe. I need to help him.
Minthara’s eyes searched the chaos of the room and they narrowed as they found Astarion and Shadowheart to her left.
“You did not think I was that easily mislead, did you, dathiir? That I would trust any and all creatures claiming to be a True Soul. You have been mistaken.”
Even without the tadpole’s connection, the drow’s excitement for blood was palpable. She wanted their death. She wanted victory over them in the name of her goddess.
Behind Minthara, more goblins entered the room. They must have heard the commotion even without an alarm being sounded.
The drow tilted up her chin, fanatic eagerness painted across her face. “We will find this weapon for the Absolute, amongst the dead and the ashes. You will not keep this from us.”
With one long stride, Minthara reached the top step of the left staircase. She did not dignify Astarion with a glance, as if his arrows could not harm her. With her sword raised, she lunged at Shadowheart, who had only now turned back towards the balustrade.
Shadowheart grunted as she blocked the attack with her shield, trying to gain back her footing.
Meanwhile Lae'zel stepped over the corpse of the butcher and towards the excitedly slobbering worgs that had made it out of their cell.
“Ada," Karlach yelled, “get out of the way!” Her fire was still raging around her, while her gaze was fixed on Shadowheart.
Her voice pulled Ada from her stupor. Her knees felt like they might give out under her as she rushed past Birka’s slumped form and up the stairs to where Gale had fallen.
One of the newly arrived goblins had stopped in his tracks, aiming at Ada with his crossbow. She was determined to get to Gale’s side and would not be stopped by anything.
With a motion of her fingers across her own eyes, Ada thought, You don’t need your vision anymore. Let’s see how you like the dark.
The goblin’s eyes turned golden-pink and his bolt hit the ceiling of the room as he stumbled backwards. He yelled in confusion and was silenced by one of Astarion’s arrows.
While one goblin made his way toward Astarion to stop his rain of attacks, the remaining goblin now stood over Gale with a nasty grin.
Gale’s robes were soaked in blood, some of it had already spread on the floor beneath him. He was motionless, lying sprawled on the floor. He must have tried to move himself as he was now on his front. His right arm was stretched forward in a desperate plea while his left lay next to his face now.
The goblin’s foot swung back, ready to kick the man lying in front of him. He was making sure Gale would not get up again.
Ada clicked her tongue. Oh no, you won’t do that.
Surrounded by the same golden-pink light that had filled his companion’s eyes, the goblin froze in the midst of his swinging motion. The sudden petrification threw him off balance and with a dull clunk, he fell over like a small, ugly statue.
Then, Ada was on her knees beside Gale.
Oh my god, so much blood. What do I do? Ada’s heart was racing in her chest.
Deciding to check for breathing and a pulse, she leaned down to him. She felt a faint heartbeat on her middle and index fingers as she pressed them against Gale's neck.
He is alive. Good.
Then her gaze fell on his left hand. Ada could have sworn that his fingers had moved.
The edges of his tattoo under his left eye glowed and then faded again, like a strange pulse that didn't match Gale's heartbeat.
When Ada touched his hand, she felt his breath on the back of her own. His lips moved, his eyelids fluttered in a half-open state.
He was trying to say something.
Ada leaned closer to him until her nose almost touched his cheek. The smell of blood was now overwhelming, but Ada tried her best to keep her nausea at bay.
It took her a few moments to figure out what he was saying. His words were repeating over and over like a final prayer.
“Death can not have me yet. Mystra, please, do not let me die.” He was pleading for his life, begging the goddess of magic to help him.
He would not be begging if my spell had worked. A cruel voice in Ada’s mind piped up. He believed in me, and my spell failed him.
Gale’s robes were dark and glistening with blood. It had already stained Ada’s clothes and her hands. She was shaking.
She placed her hands on the centre of the stain, where the dagger had cut his robes, his skin, and finally pierced his heart.
“Gale," Ada whispered softly. She was reaching into herself for the warm feeling of her magic. If she could mend clothes with magic, she reasoned, she could also mend his wounds.
The warmth flowed from her hands into his back, and she thought she heard him sigh softly.
“I am here,” she said. She found her voice was hoarse and shaking slightly. “You are going to be fine.”
But she was not convinced of this. While she felt her magic sink into his torso, she did not think the blood flowed any slower from his wound.
Ada felt like she was about to break. This could not be real, it was all to much. All her senses were bombarded with information. The smell of blood and sweat, the heat, the screams and the clanging of weapons. Her heart was pounding and her lungs felt like they were cramping.
Please, she begged her magic, please work. Please don’t let him die!
Gale did not stir anymore. Ada’s fingers went to his neck again. He still had pulse.
As she looked up, Ada saw that none of the goblins were standing anymore. Judging by the blood running down his chin, Astarion had fed on the one who had tried to take him down.
One worg lay dead in front of its cell, the other was squealing while the bear pinned him to the ground. Wyll moved towards him with his rapier lifted.
Meanwhile Minthara was holding her own against both Shadowheart and Lae'zel. She was incredibly fast on her feet, as if her zealousness and hatred had thrown her into overdrive.
An arrow shot through Minthara's calf and she howled in anger. She spun around to face Astarion and shrieked, ‘You dare, fairy?’
Shadowheart seized the moment and struck the drow with her shield. It was enough to send Minthara reeling.
The burning barbarian swung her axe at the drow in blind rage. Her battle cry echoed from the stony walls around them. But Minthara was quick and the axe did little beside scratch her armour.
A bolt of golden light came from Shadowheart and hit the drow in her chest. It slowed her movements for a moment and she let out a groan of pain.
The next moment, however, she was back on the attack, focusing on Karlach this time.
Minthara moved past the burning tiefling in a fluent motion. Her dagger left a bloody cut on Karlach’s side.
Karlach let out an outraged scream, and her hand shot up. Though it did not go to her side, but to her chest. A pitiful moan came from her as she bent over, clutching at the fiery light radiating from within her rib cage.
The drow saw her chance and charged forward, but Shadowheart was faster this time. She blocked Minthara’s sword with her shield and kicked at her legs for good measure.
Lae'zel's sword pierced Minthara’s torso before she even hit the ground.
With a terrible roar, the bear was upon the fallen drow. One of his paws pinned her to the ground while his jaws closed around her head.
Ada looked away, but the tearing sound pierced her to the bone nevertheless.
One of Ada’s hands was still on Gale's wound, the other slowly stroking his hair. Ada could now hear him breathing in short, quick gasps. He seemed on the verge of losing consciousness for good.
“Everything will be all right,” she whispered, “we won't leave you behind. We found Halsin. We can go back to the grove now.”
Next to her, Wyll thrust his rapier into the still frozen goblin, but Ada barely noticed him. Even when a heavy hand rested on her shoulder, she did not look up.
In the corner of her eye, she saw motion. A large figure was now crouching beside her, covered in viscera. He motioned for Ada to move to the side and her body complied without thought.
She could not make out details of his face, but he had a calm energy radiating off him. His hands hovered over Gale for a moment, while the familiar shine of healing magic illuminated his calloused fingers.
It felt like Ada was trapped in time, the moment of silence stretched into infinity and all Ada could do was sit there. Useless.
She only looked at the wizard before her. His eyelids twitched, the lines between his brows were more prominent than ever. But he did not wake.
The pulsing of his tattoo grew ever fainter until it finally stopped and left only the silvery purple lines of ink behind.
“He is stable for now," Halsin said, “But he needs more extensive healing. The blade pierced his heart and he lost a lot of blood.”
Somewhere in the open space below, Ada could faintly hear a grunt of pain and then Shadowheart’s voice, whispering softly.
The druid leaned back to sit on his haunches. His hands were folded in his lap as he took in the group before him. They must have been a pretty gruesome sight.
Astarion's face and the front of his clothes were covered in half-dried blood, and Lae'zel's silver armour was splattered with red, resembling the war paint on her face.
Wyll was the least bloodied by the battle, but his red eye glowed in the semi-darkness of the worg pens, emphasising the infernal scars on his face.
Ada had not suffered any injuries in the fight, yet she too was covered in blood. She trembled, her jaw clenched as she stared into nothingness.
She felt as if she were underwater, separated from the outside world, perceiving everything only dimly and distantly now that the chaos had subsided.
The only thing Ada was aware of, was herself. The sticky feeling of blood on her hands and wrists, the heaviness of her eyelids, and how much strength it took not to just lie down on the floor.
Once again, a heavy hand rested on her shoulder. “In a terrible environment such as this, you placed yourself between a ferocious bear and ravenous goblins. Are you a true friend to animals, or are you a lunatic?”
The warmth in his voice was mixed with a soft kind of humour and an invitation.
Ada turned her eyes from the void to the man to her left. She had to look up to him, as even in kneeling he was almost a head taller than her.
“You are Halsin," Ada heard herself say flatly. The large man slowly nodded in response.
He was an elf, Ada assumed, though he bore little resemblance to either Shadowheart or Astarion, apart from his pointed ears and handsome features. His dark blonde hair was partially braided, the top layers pulled back to a bun, likely to keep them from falling into his eyes.
The right side of his face was covered from hairline to chin by a tattoo of elegantly curved red lines. Above his left brow, he bore deep scratch marks that must have come from a fairly large beast.
“Your grove is in danger," Ada said slowly, “We were there when it was attacked by a raiding party of goblins.”
Memories of the battle before the grove stirred in her, mixing with the sounds of battle that had just ended in this forsaken temple. Her fear, her transformation, her pain. Gale’s voice had pulled her back from the fog. And now she had failed him.
Halsin’s attention did not move from Ada, his two-toned eyes considering her. “Are you feeling alright, child?”
It was uncomfortable for Ada to be regarded like this, especially when being called ‘child’ made her think of that disturbing cleric earlier.
But his tone was fatherly and something about him made Ada feel safe, despite herself. A shiver ran down her spine. She allowed herself to shake her head slightly.
Slowly, the druid held out his hand. His eyes did not leave Ada’s. She realised he was waiting for her permission and gave him a brief nod.
His hand was sparking with magic again. With his face crunched up in concentration, he touched the space between her collarbones, then the centre of her forehead and finally, the skin beneath her right eye.
Halsin’s eyes snapped open. “Oak Father preserve you, child... You’re infected, aren’t you? The mind flayers’ spawn.”
Wyll answered before Ada could. “Yes. All seven of us, actually.”
At last, the druid turned from Ada back to the others around them. Shadowheart had rejoined them, looking almost as tired as Ada felt.
“Something about you is different, though," Halsin mused, “You’re aware of the monster inside you. You don’t bow to the Absolute, like the True Souls do. How is this possible...?”
Astarion shrugged. “We escaped from a mind flayer ship after being infected. Maybe the process was interrupted?”
Halsin shook his head ever so slightly. “It’s no coincidence that you found me here, I’ll wager? You’re after a cure for this parasite.”
All but Lae'zel nodded. The warrior just scowled.
“I’ve been studying these parasites for a while now," Halsin continued. “Ever since I discovered these so-called True Souls are infected with them. Someone is using very powerful magic to modify these tadpoles. They are using them to exert control over the infected.”
“Yeah...," admitted Wyll hesitantly, “we have... seen it done before.”
Again, the druid nodded. “I’m sorry to say, I can’t undo that magic, which means I can’t cure you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help.”
He regarded them once more. “However, I’d need to settle matters here first. Would you help me?”
The silence that followed held for a moment to long. None of them were in a good shape for another fight.
“What would you have us do," Shadowheart asked. “Our wizard is on the verge of meeting his goddess and Karlach is... “ She broke off and sighed. “She is in no state to fight. Her last rage put too much pressure on her infernal engine. She needs to see a mechanic.”
“Help me kill the leaders of this horde and save my grove,” Halsin pleaded. “Then I will help you in return. Two more deaths could win us peace. Minthara is gone already. The ones remaining are the hobgoblin Dror Ragzlin, and that perversion of a priestess, Gut. They are the ones holding these parasites together.”
“And what do you suggest we do with these two in the meantime," Astarion asked impatiently, gesturing toward Gale and Karlach. “We can hardly leave them here to die, can we?”
“I will take them to my grove with me and see that they are looked after immediately. There is a young tiefling in the grove who might be able to help with your friend’s engine.”
Ada snorted bitterly. “If he is still there. Your successor has poisoned the grove. Kagha is preparing for a ritual to cast out the refugees from Elturel and leave them to their doom on the road.”
Surprise and anger washed over Halsin’s face, but they were gone in a blink. Genuine concern replaced them.
“Then let me take your injured friends to safety. I will restore peace and balance to the grove. As long as you take out the remaining leaders. Remove them and nature will cure itself.”
There was a pause in which the five companions were exchanging glances.
Then, Shadowheart nodded. “Alright, we will take care of the remaining leaders.”
All eyes moved to her. None of the companions argued and Ada could only feel a great indifference within her.
“Karlach can walk," Shadowheart said to Halsin, “But you will need to carry Gale alone, I am afraid.”
Halsin inclined his head. “I can do that.”
In a graceful movement that Ada would not have expected from a man of his size, Halsin leaned forward and carefully turned the unconscious Gale onto his back. Slowly, he slid one arm under each of the wizard's knees and shoulders and lifted him up.
Karlach looked terrible standing next to Halsin. She was a good hand's breadth shorter than him and seemed unsteady on her feet at best. The fire in her chest flickered and the infernal engine rattled alarmingly.
“You will have to be silent and quick," said Shadowheart with a stiff voice as her hands transferred a golden glow to the people in front of her. “This spell will safe you from being too suspicious, but you can not risk detection. Don’t dawdle, alright?”"
The small woman looked at Karlach in particular, who nodded at her, trying to feign a smile.
In the druids thick arms, Gale looked small and almost fragile. Ada had to avert her eyes to make that tearing feeling in her heart stop.
This was not the time to fall apart. Instead she searched for the numbing waters that had surrounded her mind earlier.
Halsin nodded to her in acknowledgement. “My thanks. If you prevail, I’ll owe you the debt of a lifetime," he said just before they left for the secret passage.
