Stick Close To Mama K (Baldur's Gate 3 fanfiction)
Lae'zelmancer Week is absolutely flying by! Prompt for Day 6: cold/warmth.
This prompt had Karlach's name written all over in my opinion, so I couldn't resist. Hope you enjoy it!
Ship: Karlachzel
WC: 1,234
Warnings: None at all
You can read it under the cut or on AO3. Thanks a lot for reading and commenting! Y'all are the best! <3
Although she's only been there for two days, Lae'zel is certain that she hates the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Granted, most of Faerûn is not to her liking, but that place is positively the worst. Even the Underdark had its charm.
Seeing how fickle the atmosphere in Toril is, it's no wonder its inhabitants are so inconstant, so ridiculously emotional. They are a mere reflection of its changing weather and seasons, of its skies shifting from night to day. And while she scoffs at their weakness, at how easily influenced they are by their surroundings, even she has to admit that this horrible area is affecting her.
The shadow creatures lurking in every corner. The barren soil the color of ashes. The dead roots and tendrils, like clawed hands reaching for them.
The cold. The misery that hangs in the air seems to penetrate them to the very marrow to make them shiver.
No wonder all of her companions are the very picture of gloom and doom. They're all eerily quiet, dragging their feet along the treacherous path. And they hunch, as though the heavy permanent night were their burden to carry on their shoulders. Frowns are deeper, hands gripping their weapons tensely, on the lookout for any corrupted fiend sneaking up on them.
Only Shadowheart seems to be thriving. If she has to hear her once more going on and on about feeling the presence of her goddess and how this is a sign that Shar loves her, she swears upon Mother Gith she'll knock her out with the pommel of her longsword.
Thankfully, entering the Harpers' refuge, that Last Light Inn or whatever it's called, has given them a little respite. It's still dark and freezing, but at least the artificial moonlight creates a rather convincing illusion of safety. After setting up camp and speaking to the people in charge, they agree to take a well-deserved break to nourish themselves and rest their bodies.
So Lae'zel sits by the counter of the small, virtually empty tavern, a pint of ale in front of her. She's not as fond of alcohol as most istiki seem to be, but by the stars, she needs it tonight. Something to calm her down, relieve her from the perennial state of alert and warm her from the inside out.
“Lae, there you are!” a boisterous, cheerful voice exclaims. “Been looking for you everywhere!”
Looks like Shadowheart is not the only one who has overcome the dominating despair. Karlach bursts into the bar like a firebolt, shiny and energetic. Yet there's something different about her, something Lae'zel can't put her finger on.
“I'm fixed!” Karlach beams. “Dammon just upgraded my engine. I can finally touch people again!”
That must be it. The blaze of the infernal engine still flickers in her chest, where her heart should be, but no flames dance on her palms anymore. Her euphoria is contagious. In spite of everything, Lae'zel can feel her lips twitching, the ghost of a smile possessing them.
“That is good news indeed!” Lae'zel responds.
“Best news ever!”
Her triumphant laugh makes Lae'zel's smile widen. If there's one companion she has felt deep respect for from the very beginning, that'd be Karlach. She's powerful and fierce in battle, but she also has this infectious lust for life, this passion for everything around her. No-one deserves a victory more than she does.
“How will you celebrate your recovery?” Lae'zel asks.
“Oh, you bet I'm already celebrating! Been shaking hands with all my fellow tiefs, carrying Fringe over my shoulder like a potato sack, arm wrestling with a couple of Harpers. Now I need your help.”
“Oh?”
Curiosity stiffens Lae'zel's ears. Whatever Karlach has planned, she's certain that it will be exciting. Maybe she wants to test her unarmed combat skills on her. Or spar together with no fear of scorching her skin off. Perhaps-
“I wanna hug you,” Karlach says.
The gears in Lae'zel's mind screech to a halt.
“You wish to... what?!”
“Hug you,” Karlach repeats. “I won't hurt you too much. Pinky-swear.”
“But... here? Now?”
Lae'zel glances around anxiously, an instinctive, deep-rooted reaction. Such displays of affection would be frowned upon in K'liir. Granted, there are no githyanki – not living ones, at least – in sight to judge her, but the possibility of anyone seeing her in that situation makes her shudder. Even if the tiefling wizard behind the counter is intoxicated out of his mind, clinging to a bottle of wine for dear life, and the few refugee children in the corner of the tavern seem to be minding their own business, whispering conspirationally amongst them.
Karlach cocks her eyebrow in amusement. A shrug is her only answer.
“We could find ourselves a cozier place, get some privacy, but I'm afraid that'll be hard,” she says. “C'mon, Lae! I've hugged all the others. Not gonna leave my favorite soldier out!”
Her favorite? Chk. She's just buttering her up, most likely. That knowledge, however, can't prevent a tingle from invading Lae'zel's belly.
What harm could it possibly cause, on second thought? She might as well humor Karlach. At least none of their companions are there to mock her for allowing herself such vulnerability.
“Fine, I accept,” she relents. “Make it quick.”
“Fuck yes!” Karlach pumps her fists in celebration. “Thanks a lot! I'll make it worth your while.”
Reluctantly, Lae'zel hops from her stool and takes a step closer to Karlach. Those muscular arms wrap themselves around her immediately, pulling her close, squeezing her.
As an intense yet comfortable warmth surrounds her, Lae'zel finds her breath hitching. Karlach's aroma, a mixture of smoke, leather and the deceptively sweet musk of her skin, enters her nostrils and fills her brain with a pleasant, dizzying fog.
Suddenly, the numbing cold imprisoning her muscles melts away. Karlach's fiery light, brighter than a million stars, makes the looming shadows cower in fear. Her grip is tight and strong, but soft as a blanket at the same time.
Everything else disappears. For a moment, silence envelops them except for the buzzing and whirring of the contraption in Karlach's chest, a soothing melody to Lae'zel's ears. For a moment, nothing matters, nothing exists outside that embrace. An embrace Lae'zel finds herself returning.
With her own arms snaking around Karlach's waist, holding onto her as if she were the only thing keeping her from flying away and vanishing into thin air, Lae'zel feels a single tear slide down her cheek. This sensation, this new and confusing haze she's never experienced before, is far more intense than she could have ever anticipated.
For the first time ever, Lae'zel feels safe. Nothing, no creature or god or phenomenon in any of the planes, could hurt her. Karlach is a fortress, an impenetrable shield that won't let any evils in.
A home. A wondrous place she never ever wishes to leave.
“Was it that bad?” Karlach's hot breath caresses her cheek as she speaks.
It takes her more than a few seconds to return to reality. When Karlach slowly pulls away from her, every part of Lae'zel's anatomy weeps, already longing for that loving touch. With a pang of shame, Lae'zel steels herself.
“It was acceptable,” she responds.
“Aw, high praise coming from you!” Karlach teases. “Thanks, Lae. That was lovely.”
A dull ache cloaks Lae'zel's heart as Karlach trots away from her, tail wagging joyfully. Looks like the gloom has returned.
