Chapter Text
The journey to Baldur's Gate usually flies by: just a few days on the road, with good company and the prospect of seeing friends once they eventually reach the city. They laugh and smile and they pass the time by sharing memories of their very first journey to this very same destination, that is still so recent and yet feels like it happened ages ago.
Today, it’s long. Too long. With Karlach and Wyll lost back to the hells, and Astarion hopefully only imprisoned in an unknown location after the monster hunters attack and not dead , they need to reach the city and gather help now.
It’s a series of unfortunate events. It has them worrying over Gale, in his school in Waterdeep, over Minthara who is fighting back for her house in Menzoberranzan, or even Lae’zel, lost to them in the Astral plane, who hasn't reached out once since their reunion in the wilderness.
Because surely this can’t be a coincidence? They can’t have taken three of them over the course of a tenday just… because. Something must have been happening. Someone must be behind this.
“We should reach the city tomorrow,” Shadowheart tells Hymn once the sun has set behind the horizon and the forest is plunged into darkness.
Thankfully, their night vision allows them both to see.
“We’re not stopping,” Hymn says, like Shadowheart had any other plan than to keep going.
She tightens her grip on Hymn’s hand, who hasn't quite stopped shaking since they woke up from being put to sleep by the hunters to Astarion simply… gone.
Shadowheart still doesn't know how they managed it. It wasn't a spell, it wasn't poison, how? She doesn't remember being knocked out and her head doesn't hurt. She just remembers the ambush, fighting, and then nothing.
She’s not shaking but she isn't sure how she’s managing to hold it together so well either. Sheer will, instinct, desperation perhaps.
And so they walk. Push themselves past both their limits combined and keep walking until their feet are full of blisters and their legs scream at them to stop.
Hymn eventually falls to the ground, hunched over her crossed leg, and Shadowheart sits next to her, putting her pack in front of them.
“Gods we can’t stop,” Hymn mumbles, out of breath, “we have to-”
“I know,” is all Shadowheart says.
They can’t stop but they have to.
Just for an hour, down to the second, they lean into each other, close their eyes and rest. They can’t afford more, so they’re soon to get back up and start their trek again.
It shouldn't have surprised them that something else would interrupt their journey.
Shadowheart feels it coming deep in her bones a few moments before it happens. The same dread she’d always feel right before she would draw blood with steel, feel the burn of a whip, or before she’d scrape her knees against the ground, kneeling in front of a mirror she was forced to look into.
It’s still too late. She barely has the time to warn Hymn to get ready before the shadows unveil the Sharran ambush and they’re surrounded on all sides; they gauge each other for just a second, a long yet fleeting second, before all hells break loose.
They know they've already lost the battle the moment it starts. They’re both almost out of magic and close combat has never been their strong suit. Yet they can’t give up.
She feels Hymn shift behind her right before an owlbear roar shakes the trees around them. She swipes in front of her, her paw colliding with two Sharrans that are sent flying to the side deeper into the forest, but out of the corner of her eyes, Shadowheart sees they’re already getting back up.
Shadowheart wields her sacred flame like a halberd, whipping it around and burning anyone who closes in on her, trying to keep a distance between her and her assailants.
They need a plan. There’s easily twenty Sharrans, and there's only two of them. They can’t hold on, not like that.
She hears Hymn screech in pain behind her right before the ground trembles, making her blood run cold. She’s about to look when a Sharran raises it's hand high and they suddenly find themselves surrounded by darkness so deep, even their dark vision cannot get through it.
The Sharrans close in on them. Shadowheart can’t see them but she feels their presence surrounding her, suffocating her, just like the black smoke that makes its way into her lungs, icy, choking her from the inside out.
She uses her last spell to conjure a sphere of daylight, burning the Sharrans eyes and illuminating the trees around them with its white light.
And she turns around.
Just in time to see Hymn’s owlbear form get slashed by a glistening sword, sending her tumbling to the side and knocking her right out of her wild shape.
“HYMN!”
She’s not getting up, barely holding herself off the ground. She has a big gash on her side that shines green under the ball of daylight.
Poison. They’ve poisoned–
Shadowheart feels a shift in the air and steps aside just in time to avoid a glaive strike. She extends her hand forward, the Sharran going up in holy flames until they’re burnt to a crisp and stays down.
Nineteen Sharrans.
She side steps, burns, tries to turn around to get a look behind her, but her enemies are relentless. It takes everything to just keep them away, to avoid their blades, their spell, to stay under the daylight so the darkness doesn't close in on her again.
Hymn grunts behind her. If she’s grunting, then she's alive, and if Shadowheart can find just a moment to reach into her pack and throw her the antidote they packed, then maybe Hymn can shape again and they can have a fighting chance, no matter how small.
But she can't find the time. It’s attack after attack: she feels like the Sharrans are playing with her now, enjoying making her dance instead of going through with killing her–
Unless they want her alive.
The thought chills her to her core, making her stumble backwards. She loses her footing for a second only, but it’s enough for a Sharran to reach her and grab her by her braid, pulling her backwards into the ground, her back bending painfully over her heavy pack and drawing a cry out of her mouth.
It’s over. They’re taking her. One of them is raising a fist above her face, ready to knock her out cleanly; she’s looking at it with wide fearful eyes, and by the gods she hates that she feels absolutely terrified.
A loud thump has everyone glancing to the side just in time to see a Sharran laying on the ground and another getting hit square in the nose by Hymn’s wooden staff. Disheveled, sickly skin, Hymn tries to hit a third one but they’ve all come out of their initial surprise and the Sharran avoids the blow with too much ease.
They swipe their sword forward and Hymn raises her staff just in time to parry the blow, the blade cutting through the wood and almost making it all the way through. The force of the blow sends Hymn stumbling backwards until her back hits the trunk of a tree, knocking the wind out of her, dizzying her.
Another Sharran readies his spear, aims, and before Shadowheart can think of raising her hand to stop them, she sees the spear being launched forward and impale itself into Hymn's shoulder, the metal tip disappearing entirely in her flesh.
Shadowheart has never heard her scream like that. It’s ear piercing, blood curdling, it bounces around the trees of the forest, waking up the last birds and forcing them to take flight.
Even the Sharrans seem to pause.
And Shadowheart watches as Hymn’s legs buckle under her; she’s holding the spear shaft with both her shaky hands. Shadowheart realizes the weapon has cut clean through into the tree behind and is now holding her up– she suddenly feels like throwing up.
She pushes the Sharran that is pinning her to the ground, making them trip on their own feet and fall down, but another takes their place and holds both her shoulders down, before more come to hold her, pinning her legs down, pushing her head into the dirt.
She can see her. Hold up by the weapon embedded deep in her shoulder. She’s grunting, she’s yelling, Shadowheart sees her start to shift, feathers growing out of her face and arms until she cries out in pain and shifts back.
Shadowheart’s face is getting wet and her throat is getting raw. She isn't aware she’s screaming out Hymn's name like the sound alone can save them both.
A swift kick to her cheek knocks her right out.
“Buttons… Will you please drop this already?”
The black wolf growls, his tail wagging furiously behind him. The moment Shadowheart takes a step in his direction, hand outreached to grab his prize, he darts across the room towards the exit, knocking a chair over on his way out of the door.
“Buttons!”
It’s only an old cloth but Shadowheart would rather get it back before Buttons decides to swallow it whole and make himself sick. She picks the chair back up on her way out, looking around for her resident trouble maker, when she spots two silhouettes in the horizon: she stops in her tracks and brings a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun.
Karlach and Wyll are frequent visitors - and thank the gods they are, they are the only ones. Since Karlach’s engine got fixed and Wyll managed to take his revenge on Mizora, they had officially returned to Faerun, traveling through the Sword Coast and beyond. They never stayed in one spot for too long but always made sure to visit when they were around, usually after stopping by Baldur’s Gate on a visit to Wyll’s father.
Shadowheart waves at them and watches as they wave back. It’s always a nice surprise to see them, especially since she had to stop going to the city a couple years back; she went too many months without seeing anyone other than her father and it had a much bigger impact on her mood than she’ll ever admit.
A growl coming from her side reminds her why she’s outside in the first place. She steps closer, pretending not to see the wolf bowing next to her, desperate for her to chase him again. Once she’s close enough, she jumps next to him and snatches the cloth out of his mouth.
Buttons whimpers, pawing at her hand.
“Bad!” Shadowheart tries to scold, but she’s smiling and she knows Buttons is very aware of it. Instead of looking like a kicked puppy, the wolf just bows again. “This thing is mine,” she reminds him. “You have your own toys to play with.”
She stuffs the cloth in her pants pocket so she can start making her way towards the newcomers.
“Wyll, Karlach! How have you been doing?”
They smile back at her but it doesn’t quite reach their eyes. Shadowheart finds herself stopping midway but she doesn’t ask if something is wrong quite just yet. They’re close, they know they can share any problem they might have with her.
Karlach is the first to reach her, immediately embracing her and squeezing her so tight Shadowheart hears her back pop, eliciting a laugh from Wyll who hugs her much more carefully.
“We’ve been fine,” he tells her, one hand staying on her shoulder in… Comfort? “What about you?”
“I’m…” Her glance switches between the two of them a couple times. She forces out a smile. “I’m good. Routine on the farm, enjoying the fact that spring is finally here.”
Karlach starts looking around, hand on her hips: “And where are my two nephews?”
Shadowheart laughs, true this time, and throws her chin toward the forest in the distance. “Scratch is out with my father. And Beaky, believe it or not, has found a mate. They’ve made their nest not far from here, he still visits from time to time.”
“Beaky has a girlfriend?” Karlach asks as she turns to Wyll, wiping a fake tear from her eyes. “They grow up so fast.”
Wyll gently pats her arm and chuckles at his wife’s dramatic antics.
“How about you two come inside, so we can catch up?” Shadowheart asks.
She leads them to the front door, Buttons weaving in between their legs to get inside first. Shadowheart follows him with a light chuckle, and waits for her friends to make it past the door before closing it softly behind them.
“My lovelies!” Karlach sings songs in the currently empty room.
To no one’s surprise, but everyone's amusement, every single cat Shadowheart has welcomed under her roof appears in the living room to greet Karlach: some are quick to jump on the armchair they know Karlach is going to sit in, while the rest are already on their way to climb her like she’s their cat tree, all meowing loudly to get her attention.
It takes her a second to sit down without squishing anyone. With a fond smile on her face, Shadowheart watches all her pets push each other for the warmest spot on Karlach legs.
“I love how much they love you,” she says once everyone is settled and purring in unison, the noise almost loud enough to shake the walls of the house.
They’ve never been particularly fond of visitors. Over time, they had warmed up to the presence of the most recurrent ones, but they had loved Karlach since the very first day they met her, back when Shadowheart still lived in the cottage.
Sometimes, she feels a bit jealous that her existence stops mattering as soon as Karlach enters the room.
Karlach scratches the top of Mittens head with her nails, the queen lifting her head to meet her hand.
“What can I say? I am irresistible.”
“That you are,” Wyll answers her without missing a beat, pulling a chair out from under the table to sit next to his wife.
They had been married for almost two years now but still, Karlach turns redder than she already is.
They would have been married for three more years, if they hadn't waited. After all, they were already engaged when they first went to Avernus, even if the timing of the proposal had forced them to keep it a secret - no one had planned on them leaving right after the defeat of the nether brain.
Yet, when they came back for good, not after fixing Karlach's engine but after foiling Zariel’s plans of taking her back to Avernus again, Karlach had declared they could not get married until they got her best friend back.
It had been five years of waiting for that.
Hymn was supposed to be the maid of honor. She would have stood next to Karlach, right across the altar from Shadowheart who stood next to Wyll.
In the end, she wasn't there. After three years, the wedding had to proceed without her.
“We just visited Jaheira,” Wyll says.
Shadowheart lifts her gaze from the empty spots on the floor to his face.
“How is she?” She answers as she lets the memory evaporate somewhere at the back of her mind, along with all the others.
“She’s…” Karlach glances at Wyll. “Fine.”
They don’t elaborate right away. Shadowheart stares at them quietly, one after the other, until it’s clear neither of them is inclined to share the news with her.
She stands a bit straighter, her back leaving the wall she was leaning on. “What is going on?” Because something is going on and it looks like she will have to be the one to get it out of them.
Karlach sighs. “The Harpers and the Flaming Fists raided the Temple of Bhaal, a few days ago.”
She studies Shadowheart's face but Shadowheart has already stopped seeing her.
“Oh.”
It’s all she can say through the stone she just felt drop in her stomach.
The cult of Bhaal had soared after Hymn went back. It had never done as good as it did under her command, and the temple would have been raided years ago if it wasn't for the stone door leading to it now being impenetrable. The rite of passage to gain entrance had been changed and the temple was out of reach.
Assassins were also much more discreet. Numerous, but evasive, and the victims were often people that no one would miss, coming from all over the sword coast, which made it much more difficult to track.
If Jaheira had finally been able to reach it, if she had needed the Flaming Fists’ help for the raid, then it must have been a mass murder, a blood bath. There was no reason to imprison Bhaalists, they were a lost cause and must have all been slaughtered.
And Hymn, the leader, the brain, the one behind everything, must finally be dead, too. For good this time.
And if she’s dead…
Watching the horizon for hours at a time, sleeping on one side of the bed only, keeping an empty seat, an empty glass and plate, sitting on the side of the stairs when she watches the sunset, always leaving room for someone to exist next to her…
It’s all over.
Shadowheart has rarely felt like it is so hard to breathe.
And yet the first thing she thinks is that finally she can stop waiting.
“Shadowheart,” Wyll starts, getting up from his seat to reach her and take her hands in his. “Hymn was captured. She’s alive, she’s with Jaheira.”
“She was… why? ”
“‘Why?’” Karlach repeats slowly.
She exchanges another glance with Wyll.
Because by all accounts, Shadowheart should be ecstatic. She should be crying from joy, running out the door to Baldur's Gate, thanking all the gods she knows of for this second chance at a love.
She should want to try to save Hymn. The hardest hurdle had just been crossed, now came the easy part: it was Hymn , saving her would be easy.
Shadowheart shakes her head, pulls her hand free and tucks some short strands of hair behind her ear when the movement dislodges them.
“She’s made her choice. We offered help, and she refused it.”
Hymn has made her bed, now she has to lay in it.
And Shadowheart isn't planning on interfering.
The more she thinks about it, the more all she sees is the desecrated body Hymn was standing above the last time she saw her. The blood caking her arms and armor, barely a shade darker than the red now tinting her eyes.
She said she had found her way home. That she belonged in the temple. And if at first Shadowheart had refused to believe it was her talking, she had to see reason eventually.
It wasn't Bhaal, taking control of his reclaimed flesh and blood. It hadn't been a facade, all the cruel words, the sting of her voice and of the dagger. It had all been her.
The Hymn she knew, the one she fell in love with, the one who sacrificed her life to escape the vicious god trying to claim her, was dead. Whoever was with Jaheira now, whoever had willingly run back right into Bhaal’s grasp, could not be her.
“Shads, you can’t be serious right now,” Karlach suddenly exclaims, startling the cats laying on her. “Whatever she did, she did it for us. She saved you!”
Shadowheart doesn't need the reminder. She sees the Sharran prison in which she was shackled enough times when she sleeps. Sometimes she still finds herself feeling hopelessly trapped there, waiting for a rescue that, once her time there had stretched just long enough, she eventually stopped hoping for.
And then the massacre. How the silence had turned to screams, how the air had become thick with blood, lining the inside of her lungs with every terrified breath she took. How all the Sharrans eventually stopped screaming, leaving her alone in the eerily muted prison, until Astarion finally reached her and brought her back to the surface for her very first gulp of fresh air.
How she had cried like a newborn.
It was Hymn. She didn't know at the time, but she knew now: Hymn had taken on the form of the slayer, freed Astarion from his own captors, and cleared the way for him to free Shadowheart just before jumping through a portal to the hells to get to Karlach.
They all owed her their life.
But even then…
Shadowheart takes a step to the side, away from Wyll's insistent gaze, and starts making her way to the kitchen.
“I can’t go.”
… She just can’t.
She turns her back to them, putting her hands on the counter and hanging her head forward, letting her hair fall in curtains around her face, until all she can see is the wood beneath her fingers.
Buttons follow her closely, tall enough to put his snout on the counter next to her hand, looking up at her with his big brown eyes.
“Shadowheart,” she hears Wyll implore behind her, because of course he followed her, of course he’s trying. “You have to go see her. You’ll regret it your whole life if you don’t.”
She tightens her grip on the wood, hoping for a splinter to stab her finger and snap her out of this never ending nightmare.
“If I see her–” she starts and she hates how weak her voice sounds. “If I see her and can't get her back… I'm not strong enough for this.”
“You can’t give up on her, not now. This is the opportunity we’ve all been waiting for. The others are already with her but it’s you she needs, we all know that.”
Shadowheart doesn't answer him right away. Her eyes stay locked on a knot in the wood, her vision getting blurry as more time passes without her even blinking.
There's a small part of her, a part she has buried so deep within her insides she almost succeeded in killing it, that is now waking up and begging her to run out and reach her lover.
But the rest of her is being crushed under the uncertainty of the situation. Because if she is right, if she has truly and forever lost Hymn to Bhaal, if her… if her life, her light is dead–
“I have grieved her, Wyll… I buried her next to my mother.”
“I know but now the gods are giving you a second chance. You have to seize it. If you don't, you might miss out on the only chance you’ll ever have to reconnect with her.”
He’s right, she knows he’s right. She knows damn well he’s thinking much more clearly about this than she’ll ever be able to.
If she doesn't go, she’ll regret it.
“Fine,” she says before she has a chance to change her mind again. “I'll come, but… I'm not making any promises.”
She might not stay in the end.
“I understand,” he answers her, relief evident in his voice.
He squeezes her shoulder gently, staying next to her until she finds the strength to let go of the counter and make her way to her bedroom to pack.
It doesn't take her long. Mostly just a few pairs of clothes that she stuffs in a backpack she hasn't used in years. But as she reaches for one more shirt, folded at the back of the wardrobe, her eyes trail up to the top shelf she had stashed all of Hymn’s belongings on, when she moved back here years ago.
She wanted them all out of her sight, but she never found it in her to turn the page fully and throw them away.
Hymn never had much and it all fits neatly in the space. For the first time since putting everything up there, Shadowheart pulls out a stool to climb on it and take a look.
There’s Alfira’s lute, hidden in a case to keep it safe. The small wooden duck that Halsin had given her at the reunion party. A small owlbear plush, laying on its back, given by Karlach. Scratch’s first ball, chewed beyond repair, that she had refused to throw away when Shadowheart had replaced it with a new one. There’s a few trinkets, rocks, and a book filled with pressed plants and flowers found on the way to Baldur's Gate - Shadowheart was the one to show her how to do this.
A whole life, reduced to a small handful of items, that Shadowheart ignores in favor of reaching for a small ring that has been wrapped around a silver chain.
A small cloud of dust fills the air when she blows on it.
She had found it hidden at the bottom of a drawer when she was emptying the cottage. While she never had confirmation that Hymn was planning a proposal, Shadowheart couldn't come up with any other reason as to why there would be a secret ring, safely hidden out of her sight.
She had worn it for months after Hymn left. Years, even, spent with the ring hidden under her clothes, resting right against her heart. But when she had buried her, she also had had to put the ring away, the jewel a constant reminder of what could have happened, and what would never be.
She can’t help but press it against her chest one last time, the gesture so familiar despite not having indulged in years, before she carefully places it in her pack.
Maybe Hymn will want it back, once this doesn’t work out.
Shadowheart doesn’t want to waste more time than she already has to, so they leave as soon as Arnell makes it back home. She quickly explains the situation to him, trying to keep it as simple as she can, but still sees him start to hope he’ll see her again.
They had loved her, Emmeline and him. It didn’t take them long to start loving Hymn like a second daughter and they had been heartbroken too, that day, when Shadowheart had made it home with bloodshot eyes, still crying long after she failed to tear the new chosen away from her god and her temple.
She knows Arnell wants Hymn home, she can see it in his eyes. She appreciates that he keeps it for himself and only wishes her good luck, promising that he’ll take care of her menagerie in her absence.
She only takes Scratch with her. He was Hymn’s dog, after all, and maybe if he can finally see her again, he'll stop running away to the cottage every month to wait for her return.
The trip there is fast and relatively quiet. Within two uneventful days, they find themselves standing on Jaheira's doorstep, Shadowheart tightening her grip on Scratch’s leash as Wyll knocks on the door three times - the city guards were already unhappy that a dog was walking past the gates, they had managed to at least negotiate that Scratch be attached at all times.
The door is quick to open, revealing Jaheira sporting a smile so natural and familiar, if Shadowheart didn't know that Hymn was held against her will somewhere in the basement she would have never guessed.
“Shadowheart! You don’t visit anywhere near enough.”
“You can also visit, you know,” she manages to playfully answer and Jaheira laughs.
But she is right. When Hymn was still there, they would visit almost monthly , and invite Jaheira over even more often, an offer that Jaheira could never turn down: it gave her the perfect opportunity to escape the walls of the gates, and to conveniently get lost on her way back.
With Hymn gone, Shadowheart had stopped coming. She had not seen Jaheira in years. Like too many other things, the high Harper was too much of a reminder of what Shadowheart had lost: the way she always talked about Hymn like she was her own kid, like she only got lost in the forest and they’d find her at any moment, safe, sound, sane. This delusion had proven to be too much for her.
“Ah! You’re right. Now come on in,” Jaheira says as she steps to the side to let everyone in. “I believe you all have someone to see.”
Shadowheart enters last, pulled in by a delighted Scratch with a tail wagging so fast, it's a miracle he’s still standing upright. She takes him off the leash as soon as the door is closed behind her, and leaves him to explore the house on his own.
Wyll and Karlach are already waiting by Jaheira’s office where the not so secret anymore tunnel is hidden. As soon as Scratch reaches them, Shadowheart sees him startle at a smell, no doubt her smell: he squeezes his nose against the crack in the floor and starts whining pitifully.
“You remember her buddy don’t you,” Karlach soothes him, patting his back. “You’ll see her very soon, don’t worry.”
Shadowheart tears her eyes away from the scene in favor of turning towards Jaheira.
“Is it safe?”
“Of course.” Jaheira removes a pin hidden in the folds of her clothes, and walks past Shadowheart so she can press it into the desk. “She’s unarmed, she doesn't have magic. Can’t be safer than that.”
With a rumble, the tunnel opens, and everyone makes their way inside.
Jaheira seems so unbothered by the whole thing, it should help ease Shadowheart’s mind but it doesn't. This is not the routine that Jaheira is pretending it is: she has fought and killed other Bhaalspawns before, why is this one different? Why is she not bothered that she has it chained in her basement?
“What do you mean, she doesn't have magic?”
Turning sideways, Jaheira slows her pace to walk by Shadowheart's side while everyone else hurries ahead.
“Gale - he’s downstairs - he found a way to make a counter spell cuff. Now don’t ask me how it works, I have no idea, all I know is that it works. She can’t use magic, she can’t shapeshift, nothing.”
Can’t shapeshift… There used to be a time where Hymn would have rather died. Not only is she a druid - shapeshifting is a part of her just like drinking and eating is - but her wild shape was sometimes the only thing allowing her to live : when she had a bad day, tired beyond reason with her whole body being crushed under pain, Shadowheart would only see her tiefling form after the sun had set and it was time to go back to sleep.
Now though, Shadowheart can only think about the slayer. If Hymn cannot use magic, then Bhaal’s avatar stays out of reach. Her inability to shapeshift is overall a good thing, no matter the possible side effects she might have to deal with.
“And how did you get it on her exactly?” She ends up asking, pushing all other thoughts aside and focusing on the tunnel stretching in front of her. “I doubt she just handed you her arm.”
“Oh it was easy, believe it or not. She didn't look like she wanted to hurt us, just scare us away. The moment she shifted out of the slayer form, Minsc knocked her out.”
“She didn't want to hurt you?”
Shadowheart doesn't believe it. To this day she still feels the sharpness of the metal that Hymn pressed against her throat the last time they saw each other, and that was barely a couple months after she went back to Bhaal. Now, with hundreds of ritual murders headlines printed onto the gazette, and who knew how many more under her belts, Shadowheart knew damn well Hymn had hurt more people than they could ever count.
Jaheira doesn't get to answer. The tunnel comes to its end and Gale and Minsc, sitting at a makeshift table, both look up when Shadowheart walks in the clearing. She sees them stop talking upon seeing her: immediately, she spots the pain in Gale’s eyes, not for himself, but for her.
Her stomach, now twisting itself into a knot, urges her to walk back outside.
“Shadowheart!” Comes Minsc's thick accent, forcing Shadowheart to tear her gaze away from Gale’s right in time to be ensnared in a hug that literally lifts her off her feet. “Boo has been waiting for you, you know. Minsc was about to go knocking down your door!”
“I missed him too,” she barely manages to croak out with how little air she has in her lungs.
He puts her back down on the ground gently. On his shoulder, Boo squeaks out his welcome: Shadowheart finds herself smiling for the first time today when she looks at the little furry hamster, looking just as young as the day she met him six years ago now.
Then she looks to Gale, to the hope she can now spot on his face, and immediately her smile fades.
“How is she?” She asks him because she knows that out of everyone here, he’s the most likely to tell her the truth.
“She’s…” he trails off like he’s looking for the right words. “She’s not talking. Not reacting to much, to be honest. But, I am sure seeing you will do her a world of good!”
Shadowheart can tell he believes what he just said, but she definitely is not there yet. She very much doubts it will be that easy.
She nods curtly and turns to the door of the hideout, where Scratch is already pawing at the wood, nose stuck against the gap under it. He lets out a deep whine when it remains closed.
“So I just go in.”
“We’re right next to you,” Karlach lets her know, suddenly right by her side.
When she looks back towards Wyll, he encourages her to walk forward with a sweet smile and a nod.
Shadowheart walks the agonizingly long steps that separate her from the hideout. It takes all of her strength to lift her hand up to the handle, her fingers hovering over it for a moment as she watches them shake. With one last deep breath, she takes a hold of it and pushes the door open.
Scratch doesn't waste a second, rushing in towards a curled up form on the floor whose long devilish tail is tightly coiled around it. He nudges her, whining wildly now, ecstatic to finally see her again after such a long time.
She looks nothing like Hymn. She has changed so drastically in the last five years, Shadowheart almost doesn't recognize her.
The vitiligo seems to have spread almost everywhere. Her hair, now so long it sprawls on the wooden planks of the floor, is completely white, whiter than Shadowheart’s bleached hair. Most of the skin she can see is now light blue, a stark contrast from the gray she is used to, and her frame… Even through the clothes, Shadowheart can see every single one of her bones sticking out, like she has only eaten enough these past years to dodge death.
She looks so close to how she did that day after the nautiloid crash, after months of torture at Kressa’s hand. Famished, tired, empty. A shell of whoever she used to be.
Scratch doesn't care - he’s a dog, of course he doesn't. He keeps whining and nudging this form that doesn't move, going as far as rolling on the floor, belly up. He greets her with all the joy of a dog who hasn't seen his owner in years.
All the while Shadowheart's stays frozen where she stands, desperately trying to recognize the person she used to love, the person she used to live with, to no avail.
She was right. This isn't her Hymn. This is the leader of the Cult of Bhaal, stripped of all of her powers.
“Aw, look at him,” Karlach whispers to Wyll behind her, right as Scratch forces his head past his owner’s arms and on her knees.
Shadowheart sees him sighs contentedly.
The others’ stares burn holes at the back of her head, waiting for her to do or at least say something. But she’s already fighting against the urge to run out of the city, she can't get herself to step forward.
She should be kneeling on the floor, bawling her eyes out, embracing Hymn and letting her know just how much she has missed her those past five years. She should be happy and relieved to have her back, and tell her how she’s dreamed of this very moment every single night before falling asleep.
She should be thanking all the gods she knows about that she can have her love back.
But it isn’t her. She should know who this is, but she doesn't recognize this person.
“It’s not her.”
“Of course it’s her,” Karlach snaps, visibly offended that Shadowheart would dare talk about her best friend like that. “She’s been through hell, give her a minute.”
“She’s–” she stops herself once she sees movement.
She watches as Hymn’s hand comes up to stroke the fur on Scratch’s head. His tail starts beating the floor like a drum, but even he doesn't dare move and risk ruining the moment.
She scratches through his fur with her long nails.
“Hi boy.”
It’s barely a whisper. Her voice is hoarse, like she hasn't used it in months, or maybe like she has used it too much. Scratch doesn't seem to mind, whining loudly at the sound of it.
Hymn’s posture on the floor relaxes. She lets go of her knees to sit cross legged on the floor, and her dog doesn't waste a second before climbing on her lap, trying to fit his big body on her frail legs. She’s not looking at him, her eyes looking at something Shadowheart can’t see, but she keeps petting Scratch slowly, much to the white dog’s pleasure.
Someone gently pushes Shadowheart forward - she almost stumbles. When she looks back, she sees Wyll gesturing for her to talk.
She’s too scared. By the gods, Shadowheart is terrified: this is both a dream come true and her worst nightmare come to life. If she talks, and if Hymn doesn't recognize her, if she’s proven right and it isn't her–
The last time she saw Hymn, her rejection buried her in a hole so deep, it took years for her to claw her way out of it. If it happened again… she would no doubt be buried alive with no light in sight.
But Wyll and Karlach look so sure. This isn't their first time seeing Hymn, they’ve interacted with her since her return, even if she hasn't talked to them yet. Surely they know better than she does.
And she has just talked to Scratch. Maybe she just… needed time to come around.
Shadowheart takes in a long, shaky breath that seems to constrict her lungs instead of giving her air.
“Hymn–” She tries to say but it comes out as a croak. She clears her throat a bit too loud. “Hymn?”
The figure on the floor stills at the sound of her voice. She blinks once, twice, three times, before her crimson eyes rise from the floor, searching through the room, finally landing on Shadowheart.
A million expressions cross her face, too fast for Shadowheart to decipher any, and still she feels her own face reflect them all.
“Shadowheart?”