Chapter Text
The hands that shake shoulders are firm though she feels them tremble. There’s audible fear in the voice that calls her name once, twice, sounding increasingly panicked.
They needn't be afraid. Shadowheart is no delicate flower. She's a disciple of Shar and those devoted to the Dark Lady have no need for gentle touches, no use for fear. Unless they're instilling it in others, that is.
Shadowheart opens her eyes and squints up. The woman's features slowly come into focus– long scarlet hair, bright blue eyes and a scar that slices down the length of her right cheek. She feels a surge of relief when she recognises the Wood Elf from the ship - the one who broke her out of the glass chamber that almost became her coffin.
"You're alive," she blurts out and it sounds like an accusation. "I'm alive. How is this possible?"
She takes the woman’s - Tav's - appearance in for a beat. Apart from a bit of dirt and a few scratches she seems fine.
By rights she should be dead. They both should; skulls cracked open and grey matter splattered across the beach every which way. No one should be able to survive such a fall yet here she is, remarkably unscathed save for a dull ache behind her temple. It’s not until Shadowheart gets to her feet that she becomes aware of something clutched in her right hand.
She bites back a laugh of disbelief. How in the hells did she manage to hang onto it whilst being flung from the ship?
The artefact she almost died for - that so many did die for, sits in the palm of her hand. None knew why they needed to acquire the prism from a Githyanki Creche. That didn't matter. Lady Shar willed it and that was that, no questions asked. Secrecy above all.
The mission must be seen through to the end no matter the cost. If she dies in the process then so be it, but she's not planning on going that route. With a sly flick of the wrist the object is tucked out of sight.
"I have no idea" Tav says. "I'm not for miracles or divine intervention but..." she rubs the back of her neck and trails off.
Shadowheart casts a wary eye over their surroundings and sees nothing but carnage. The wreck of the flaming nautiloid looms large behind them; thick acrid smoke billowing into a cloudless blue sky. Streaks of blood and the charred body litter the sand like macabre seashells.
"It seems like we're the lucky ones, judging by all the corpses strewn about. I remember the ship. I remember falling...then nothing."
"Me neither. Last thing I remember is a voice telling me to connect those controls and then it all goes dark. I guess I must have passed out," Tav says, brow furrowed as she tries to piece together the missing parts. "I wonder what happened to our Gith friend...hope she made it out ok."
Shadowheart's been wondering that too, but not out of concern for the Gith's wellbeing. If she's lucky the gith won't have survived. The last thing this uniquely fucked up situation needs is a bloodthirsty space pirate added to the mix.
But she cant rely on luck. She must be practical. If they cross paths with the Gith and there's a mere mention of the artefact then Shadowheart will deal with her the Sharran way. Swift, lethal and silent.
It would serve the Gith right - she'd been all too keen to leave Shadowheart to die.
Best she puts as much space between herself and the rest of the feral Githyanki warriors searching for her as possible.
"You might want to reconsider calling her a friend. Looks like she ran off without us."
"We should look for her," Tav says. "She might be hurt, or worse."
Or worse is preferable.
"You're more concerned for her than she is for you, clearly," Shadowheart counters. "We need to take care of ourselves first and foremost. That means supplies, shelter and most importantly, a healer. It might have escaped your notice but we still have these little monsters in our heads and I've no desire to start sprouting tentacles."
Tav's eyes meet hers, the ghost of a smile upon her lips. "We? Does that mean you want us to stick together?"
"Well I've a feeling we're going to need each other. Since we share this unfortunate...affliction, shall we say, for lack of a better word, we both know what's at stake. I can't think of better company."
Tav smiles genuinely. "OK then, I'm ready if you are. Any preference on which way to go? I haven’t the foggiest where we are."
"Me neither. You can do the honours so long as it’s the opposite direction to that thing," she says, jerks her head at the nautiloid. "I want it out of my sight yesterday."
"You took the words right out of my mouth." Tav pauses, looks back over her shoulder at the ship.
"What is it?"
"Let's do a loop around the crash site before we head out. There might be more people who survived and I can't have the thought of abandoning them weighing on my conscience when I could have helped."
Shadowheart could. Easily. She's not burdened with an overabundance of empathy, and if there’s a choice to be made between rescuing strangers or saving her own skin, then nine times out of ten there's no contest.
But right now she has to make that exception or become ‘Faerun's biggest hypocrite.’ Tav, with her good intentions and kindly nature, risked her own life to save Shadowheart’s when she really didn't have to. And if Shadowheart refuses to help Tav in return, well, that would make her no better than the Gith. A thought which disgusts her.
"Fine. So long as we're quick. Just being near that thing is enough to make my skin crawl."
/////////////////////
Tav is not being what Shadowheart would consider quick. After they’d dispatched a few of those gross brain creatures, the Wood Elf had slowed her pace to check nearly every single corpse they've come across for signs of life. There’s been more than Shadowheart cares to count but the headless ones have been spared at least.
Shadowheart reluctantly follows along a few meters behind, growing increasingly irritated as she sweats beneath her armour. Gods it’s hot.
She can practically feel a layer of grime coating her skin. When will be the next time she has a chance to bathe herself, she wonders. Will she make it to a bath before ceremorphosis takes over? How do Mindflayers maintain their personal hygiene anyway? How would that work, with all those tenta-
"Think fast," Tav calls, throwing a small red blur to her.
Shadowheart catches it without flinching. An apple. She looks at it then back to Tav, an eyebrow raised.
"It's not much but you must be starving, I know I am," Tav pauses to take a bite of her own apple and sighs contentedly as she chews. "Can't remember the last time I ate something and we need to keep our strength up."
Tav takes another bite then turns back to her task. Shadowheart just stares at the fruit in her hand. It’s a simple act of kindness that pales in comparison to what Tav's done for her already. So then why does it pull at something in her chest? She considers it for a moment - tries to remember the last time someone showed her kindness just because. She can't.
"Wait," Shadowheart calls, draws level with Tav who's crouched over yet another body. "I wanted to thank you."
"Ah no worries,” Tav says as she presses two fingers to the corpse’s neck, checking for a pulse. “S'just an apple."
Tav shakes her head and then nimble fingers are dipping into a breast pocket. They emerge holding a bronze ring. Tav holds it up to the light and seemingly satisfied, tucks it into her pouch with a small clink which suggests it’s not the first trinket she’s liberated today. Shadowheart hadn’t even noticed the pick pocketing before. Impressive. Maybe Tav isn’t quite so much of a do-gooder as she first thought.
"Cursed to put my hands on everything," Tav shrugs, flashing Shadowheart a sheepish smile. "Not like they can take it with them, eh? Figured we might need to trade down the line and my pockets were empty when we landed."
"Very astute,” Shadowheart nods. “And no, I didn't mean thank you for the apple...not that I'm not grateful, I - thank you for that too. I meant..."she pauses to collect herself.
"I wanted to thank you again for freeing me. It would have been all to run easy to just run past my pod, but you didn't. I won’t forget that, truly."
Tav gets to her feet, brushes the sand from her trousers. “You don’t need to thank me. I mean come on, I’d have to be truly heartless to leave you there without at least trying to get you out. I’m sure if the roles were reversed you would have done the same.”
Shadowheart gives her a small smile but doesn’t say anything. She likes to think she would have. But maybe she’d have taken one look at the Gith and bolted.
No. No, she definitely would have helped Tav, she assures herself. Whilst she’s not particularly interested in being a good person or a bad person, she still subscribes to basic decency.
“Come on, let’s climb this hill and get our bearings,” Tav says, disrupting her thoughts. “With any luck we’ll be able to see a settlement or something.”
Glad to put the beach behind them, they traipse up the mound that Tav was generous to call a hill. Shadowheart's eyes are never still, darting from the trees to the shrubs that line the well-trodden path. She notices Tav doing the same. Good. They don’t want to be caught unawares.
Shadowheart’s hand flies to the hilt of her dagger when they hear it; a disturbance in the bushes up ahead. Her breath catches as a man stumbles forth, dressed in fine clothing and with perfectly coiffed silver hair. She takes in his appearance – a high elf and likely some sort of nobleman, she gleans with mounting distrust. The rich are only ever out for themselves, you can trace that notion back to the invention of currency.
“Hurry! I’ve got one of those brain things cornered, there in the grass,” he says, pointing at a wooded area just ahead. “You can kill it can’t you? Like you killed the others.”
‘Kill it yourself, pretty boy,’ Shadowheart’s about to say, but Tav is already stepping forward. She just about refrains from rolling her eyes and lingers at a distance, hand still on the dagger at her waist.
Tav pauses at the edge of the bushes, ready to leap should the intellect devourer emerge. A series of rustling follows and it runs out of the grass. A boar.
Tav laughs in relief but the sound quickly dies in her throat when she spots the glint of the pale elf’s dagger.
Shadowheart draws her own dagger, disappointed but not surprised in the turn of events.
“If this is a robbery you’re off to a bad start, friend,” Tav says, backing up.
“I just need information,” the man says, he looks beyond Tav and his eyes land on Shadowheart’s weapon. “I saw you scuttling about on the ship. You’re in league with them aren’t you? Those tentacled gah-“
Shadowheart’s head throbs, hand flying to clutch her forehead. It’s the same unpleasant sensation she felt when she met Tav. Her mind twists and she’s looking out of unfamiliar eyes prowling dark, busy streets. Baldur’s Gate.
“What was that?” the man demands, voice laced with fear. “What’s going on?”
“The worm that Mindflayers put in our skulls. It connects us somehow,” Tav says.
“The worm...of course. That explains things...somewhat. And to think, I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. My apologies.” He flashes them a charming smile and sheathes his weapon.
“Apology accepted,” Shadowheart says, putting her own dagger away. Despite her initial distrust she can’t fault him. “I’d have probably done the same.”
“A kindred spirit then. My name’s Astarion, I was in Baldur’s gate when those fiends snatched me.”
“I’m Tav and this is Shadowheart. We’re Baldurians too.”
“Is that so? We clearly move in different circles,” Astarion smirks briefly before training his features into a neutral expression. “So, do you know anything about these worms?”
“Not much,” Tav shrugs. “Apart from the fact they’ll turns us into mindflayers.”
“Turn us into...” Astarion trails off then let’s out a hollow laugh. “Oh that’s just fucking perfect. Really. Of course it’ll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect,” he mutters bitterly. “Although it hasn’t happened yet. If we can find an expert, someone who can control these things, then there might still be time.
Shadowheart scowls. “Control? We need to get them out.”
“Well of course,” Astarion counters. “That goes without saying.”
There’s a pregnant silence and when Tav breaks it, Shadowheart already knows what the Wood Elf is going to say before she opens her mouth.
“You should travel with us. Our odds are better together.”
“You know, I was ready to go this alone, but maybe sticking with the herd isn’t such a bad idea. And you two seem like useful people to know,” Astarion muses. “Alright, I accept. Lead on,” he says, punctuating the decision with a casual flick of his wrist.
Shadowheart decides to keep a very close eye on their new travelling companion. Behind the veneer of fancy clothes and confidence there’s something about Astarion that troubles her. Maybe it’s all the pomp and charm. She’s no stranger to superficial charm herself – it’s often the best way to get up close and personal to a mark without giving your intentions away.
They’re halfway across the ruined chamber of the ship when they see it; a Mindflayer pinned beneath a chunk of debris. It fixes them with furious orange eyes and their tadpoles squirm in unison.
“Careful,” Shadowheart warns as Tav steps towards it. “That thing’s dangerous despite being wounded. Don’t get too close.”
Tav flinches and then Shadowheart feels it too. A sense of compassion. Compassion? Fuck that. She fights against the feeling with every scrap of mental resolve. This is the creature that abducted them and its playing its last hand – a trick to deceive them into sparing its pitiful life.
“Get back!” Shadowheart shouts.
She shoves Tav to the ground and steps over her, ignoring the voice in her head that’s screaming at her to stop. Her boot connects with the Mindflayer’s skull, bones crunching beneath it. Two more stomps for good measure and she steps back, glaring down at the mess of blood and shattered bones. The rush of relief she’s expecting doesn’t come, presumably muted by the parasite.
“Well done, darling,” Astarion drawls. “Had your back the entire time, obviously.”
“Thanks. I don’t know what came over me,” Tav says as she gets to her feet. “I wanted to kill it but...it was like something wouldn’t let me. Like I was physically being held back. The tadpole, it...”
"It tried to take over your mind to preserve one of its own. But we’re not illithid yet, we need to fight its urges with everything we’ve got.”
Tav nods. “Agreed. Now, let’s get out of here and find a way to get these freeloaders out of our brains.”
///////////////
Shar must truly be testing her because Shadowheart’s day just keeps on getting worse. On top of the arrogant pale elf they’ve now acquired a particularly excitable wizard. Well, Tav acquired. There’s no way Shadowheart was willingly sticking her hands into a glowing purple portal because some disembodied voice asked her to.
How many times is Tav going to dive in blindly to help strangers before it gets her, or all of them, killed? The expression ‘the road to the hells is paved with good intentions’ pops into her head and not for the first time today.
The wizard, Gale, talks more than anyone she’s ever met. She’s this close to telling him to put a sock in it but that wouldn’t be very diplomatic and its best to remain on his good side. Gale, with his proficiency for magic, could prove a useful ally. Even if he is getting on her last nerve.
Tav stops abruptly and Gale almost walks straight into her. “Voices, up ahead. Come on, let’s go.”
Then Tav’s off again with Gale at her heels. Shadowheart shares a withering look with Astarion before they follow after them, jogging to catch up. They stop at the edge of a clearing where two Tieflings are arguing.
“Zorru was right,” the male one says. “Yellow as a toad and twice as ugly.”
Oh no.
Shadowheart lifts her gaze and there, suspended in a wooden cage 15ft above the ground, arms crossed and wearing a scowl is the Gith.
Golden eyes which seem to radiate fury lock with Shadowheart’s own. Lady of Loss preserve her, this is a fucking nightmare.