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Lae’zel grunted, using her palms to shove Shadowheart away. Shadowheart maintained her stance, her heels digging into the dusty earth under them, allowing herself to be moved, but not wavered.
“Good.” Lae’zel growled, allowing more rumble than word through her lips as she began to circle Shadowheart. Her ears twitched and fluttered, and the slits in her eyes grew to fill the irises that contained them. Had Shadowheart not already known the danger of these behaviors, she may have given her a verbal jab about being a kitten on the prowl. Lae’zel’s composure was fragile in spars with her, whether it were casual or not, she could barely keep herself civil whenever Shadowheart felt particularly like being a pain in her ass.
The Underdark did, however, give her a few distinct advantages. The dim at best lighting left Lae’zel searching for the full shape of Shadowheart in the dark, only sudden movement and the sounds of her shoes kicking up dust could really give her any clues. It was only due to her skilled senses that she held any upper hand at all in the nearly unlit clearing they trained in, given Shadowheart’s current perfect view.
Shadowheart kept her gaze on Lae’zel’s eyes, watching them flick and flutter their focus to find any tells of the beginnings of an attack. She began to circle with Lae’zel, letting the tense air sit between them as their center. Shadowheart waited, knowing that Lae’zel’s lithe and quick nature would be difficult to counter if she were given the first move, but that her own slower and powerful strokes would be child’s play to deflect by Gith standards.
Lae’zel’s pupils shrank back to slits as she charged in for a strike, exactly what Shadowheart had been looking for. She centered herself, lowering her body as if in preparation to run, only to lift her knee to where Lae’zel’s abdomen was heading quickly. As she extended her leg to deliver the blow, Lae’zel’s course changed, dipping to Shadowheart’s side.
Shadowheart yelped as Lae’zel grappled her thigh, lifting it up towards her chest. Shadowheart hopped backwards, trying to regain her balance and yank her stolen limb back, only managing to give Lae’zel the opportunity to push her to the ground. Lae’zel straddled her other thigh, lifting the one in her grip even further to pull her tendons taught. She leaned in with the motion, snatching both of Shadowheart’s wrists out of their baffled flailing with one hand, crossing them, and subsequently pinning them above her head.
Shadowheart grunted in frustration as she attempted to lift her arms, to pull her leg away, to sit up, just do anything of worth at all! Truly, the only thing she could do was look into Lae’zel’s eyes yet again, she needed to gauge what she would do next… but…
Lae’zel had this self-righteous little grin. It was a subtle sort of thing, something that when they had begun to travel together she could never imagine her being capable of. While in conversation and in general war tactics, Lae’zel strongly favored the overt and the head on approach, this was certainly not war, or a discussion over tea. This was the hunt, and she was prey.
Her eyes were focused, her ears were flared forward, and a single fang had rested upon her bottom lip as she tried to subdue her smile, to not allow Shadowheart to know that she thought she had the complete upperhand. If Shadowheart’s pride would have allowed herself to feel a bit of fear towards Lae’zel, she probably would have conceded, but the thunder of her heart in her throat, and the feeling of the Githyanki’s breath against her lips sprung her into action.
Instead of fighting against Lae’zel’s strength, she instead threw her off balance, lifting the leg she had been straddling and rolling both of them over. Shadowheart may not have the same muscle as Lae’zel, but her body had far more momentum and weight, fully able to toss her around if caught unawares. As Lae’zel tumbled, Shadowheart broke the grip she had on her wrists, catching Lae’zel’s forearm to place it next to her head on the dirt. Shadowheart then used her leg to step on the arm that once held her thigh.
She completed the pin by sitting atop Lae’zel’s thighs, asserting herself more by pushing her further into the ground. Lae’zel growled at the gesture, thrashing at the firm hold she found herself in, which Shadowheart chose not to get too amused, or heated, over.
“I’m beginning to think you like this position, Lae’zel,” Shadowheart said, pressing her weight into the woman beneath her for emphasis. Not that she did or anything. She felt the corner of her mouth quirk upward. She of course couldn’t miss how briefly those cat-like pupils dilated before narrowing back into sharp slivers.
“Chk,” Lae’zel hissed through her clenched teeth. “You are too eager to throw your weight around. Your technique is sloppy.”
“And yet you remain beneath me—” Lae’zel growled at that, and something akin to delight flared in her chest. “—in your proper place.”
It was only when Lae’zel slipped her hand free that Shadowheart realized she must have loosened her grip. Lae’zel struck fast. A searing pain tore through her cheek. Shadowheart reeled, hand flying up to her face as she shouted.
“Shit! Lae’zel!” she roared, feeling her eyes grow wet with tears brought on by the sting. “What in the hells was that!?”
Lae’zel was staring at her own hand, tips of her fingers wet with blood; the same blood that coated Shadowheart’s palm when she lowered her hand from her face. Lae’zel met her gaze for a moment before she averted her eyes with a jerk of her head. The way her ears fell gave the impression of…guilt.
With a scoff, Shadowheart shifted away from Lae’zel, turning her mind to channeling her magic. She refused to leave the wounds open for long and have her face marred by the gith. A chill spread from her fingers to her face.
“I did not intend to hurt you,” grumbled a voice from behind, making Shadowheart jump as she spun to look at Lae’zel.
“A rather unbelievable claim,” Shadowheart responded with a sneer. “That swipe you took at my face sure seemed intentional.”
“I allowed my temper to take hold.” She sighed. “It is not a moment I am proud of by any means.”
Lae’zel’s eyes shimmered with sincerity. Suddenly Shadowheart felt the need to swallow.
“Right,” she uttered. She rubbed her fingers together, the drying blood sticky between them. “Although, I’m surprised. I would have expected sharp nails like that to have caused more issues sooner.”
Lae’zel’s ears flicked — a sign of irritation. “Are you suggesting you do not believe I have control over my claws? This is a skill one learns as a yank.” She paused. “But, I understand. Perhaps this is a teaching that has been lost to you, like other things.”
“...I’m sorry?”
Instead of speaking, Lae’zel held her hand up. Just like a cat’s paw, sharp claws extended from the tips of Lae’zel’s fingers when she flexed them. Shadowheart blinked in bewilderment, curiosity getting the best of her as she leaned closer to get a better look at Lae’zel’s digits.
“You could always do that?” Shadowheart blurted. All this time she spent watching Lae’zel — in camp, in battle — she had never noticed this…githyanki quirk of hers.
“Yes,” Lae’zel answered, eyebrow raising as she too leaned closer. “Are you unable?”
Shadowheart allowed herself to laugh a little. “Ours don’t work like that, no.”
A hum buzzed in the back of Lae'zel's throat. “I see. Yet another thing that sets me apart as ‘alien’ to you, no doubt. Gawk as you please, istik. I have grown used to the strange looks.”
“No, I— I never meant to suggest it like that,” Shadowheart quickly defended with a shake of her head. She brought her own hand up to gently take Lae’zel’s. The twitch in Lae’zel’s ear did not go unnoticed. “I just never knew.”
Lae’zel had retracted her claws when Shadowheart started brushing her thumb along the backs of her fingers, leaving streaks of red on Lae’zel’s skin.
Shadowheart hummed quietly, she hadn’t really thought she would dirty Lae’zel’s hands, but she figured that she wouldn’t mind. The olive green skin under her fingertips looked quite a bit more fitting with lines of red across it anyhow. She turned her hand around, pointing Lae’zel’s palm up to the sky, pressing against the center of her palm with her thumb. Unlike a common housecat, it did nothing to extend the claws as she hoped it would.
“What are you doing.” Lae’zel demanded rather than asked. She was already tense, just as a soldier ought to be, but Shadowheart felt her fingers grow even more stiff and rigid. She did nothing to reclaim her stolen limb however.
Shadowheart ignored her, “What muscles trigger it?” She began squeezing across her palm, resting her thumb higher up towards the bases of each finger.
Lae’zel spoke with little attentiveness, quieter and a bit puzzled, “The… upper center of the palm. The skin is more sensitive to irritation due to the excess nerves, do not–” She breathed through her teeth sharply as Shadowheart grazed it, “Do not grope it so brutishly as you have everywhere else!” She snipped, her whole hand flexing as her claws flashed briefly out of her fingers, “For a healer, you know less than nothing of delicacy.”
Shadowheart scoffed, “As if I will ever need a lesson in delicacy from you. ” She did, however, lighten her touch a bit further, which seemed to placate the warrior for now, “Hold still…”
Lae’zel did as she was told, which Shadowheart preened at silently, as she toyed with the muscle yet again. She pressured it gradually, watching as each claw sprouted from her fingertips slowly. They were sharp, and off-white in color, each one being not much bigger than a cat’s. Some were crowned with red, primarily the ones on the middle, ring, and pointer, and Shadowheart’s curiosity peaked. Were they inherently this sharp? Or had Lae’zel spent a great deal of time grooming them? They were… nearly pristine. She couldn’t help but to use her other hand to poke at it, to see if they really had been shaved and ground into devices of death, just as she had with her weaponry.
“Are you that dull?! ” Lae’zel ripped her hand away, just as Shadowheart felt the prick of its end on her finger, “You have just felt its sting moments before, and you still test its grit? Your mind has been cleansed of reason, istik!”
“Oh please.” Shadowheart’s brows furrowed, pointing her minorly injured finger at Lae’zel, “Compared to the damages you’ve already done, this is nothing. Hardly worth the fuss.” She puffed her chest out, watching as Lae’zel’s ears twitched further in irritation, pulling her hand back to observe the blood beginning to drip, “They are well cared for, those talons of yours.”
“You… needn’t harm yourself to find that out.” Lae’zel insisted lamely, her eyes locked on the wound, wrapping her hand around Shadowheart’s to inspect it closer.
Shadowheart sputtered, attempting to tug her hand back to her side, “It isn’t as if I can do nothing to fix it–!” Her cheeks heated, gods, she hoped her hands weren’t as clammy as she thought.
As soon as Shadowheart thought to get her wrist free using her other hand, Lae’zel had already snaked her long tongue out of her mouth and lapped along her digit. The wet heat of the appendage, and the view of Lae’zel’s half lidded expression as she cleaned the cut stunned Shadowheart completely. Her whole body had chosen, entirely at the same time, to shut down.
Shadowheart watched with her mouth agape — something she only noticed when she sucked in a gasp at the warm, wet muscle sliding down along her finger. She twitched, her hand making a weak attempt at escaping Lae’zel. Lae’zel remained adamant, fighting the tiny tug so that she may finish lapping up the mess across Shadowheart’s fingers.
She felt a jolt in her abdomen when Lae’zel’s tongue retreated back into her mouth — a sensation she willed herself to ignore. Still in a state of shock, Shadowheart didn’t fight Lae’zel’s grip until fingertips were being pressed into her palm.
“Hey—! What do you think you’re doing!?”
Lae’zel snorted. “Am I not allowed the same poking-and-prodding that you performed on me moments ago?” Shadowheart groaned, but didn't offer any quip back as Lae’zel’s surprisingly gentle fingers brushed up and along her own. She watched as Lae’zel tilted her head. “Your fingers. They are…cold.”
“I did just have to heal myself,” Shadowheart grumbled out, shifting under Lae’zel’s scrutiny, but not away from her. “My magic tends to have minor lasting effects.”
“I see.” Lae’zel’s voice came out in a near-purr, intrigue evident as she held Shadowheart’s fingers within her hand. The cleric could feel heat in her face and ears that certainly wasn’t a result of any magic.
Lae’zel had turned Shadowheart’s palm downward, and her fingers were now moving up the back of her hand. Just as they ghosted over the dark, ever-present wound in the center, she recoiled from Lae’zel’s touch.
“Don’t—”
“Is it painful?”
She wanted to say yes. After all, it did cause her constant pain. A reminder to keep her head right. To stay true to Her Lady. But the question gave her pause. After all, it did not hurt now. And in the brief moment Lae’zel had grazed a fingertip over it, there had been no agonizing, all-consuming pain.
She replaced her hand in Lae’zel’s, allowing her to gently graze her thumb over the wound. Shadowheart hissed through her teeth, anticipating pain. But it never came.
“Just don’t poke it,” Shadowheart finally muttered. Lae’zel scoffed.
“As if I would not treat such a tender thing with the delicacy you lack.” Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at the other woman. “I am capable of a…gentle touch.” Lae’zel’s voice seemed to waver with those last words.
Shadowheart tilted her head at Lae’zel, but her gaze never strayed from the half-elf’s hand. She circled it tenderly, testing its sensitivity by tightening her swirls slightly each time. The edges were almost ticklish, but her touch didn’t provide enough pressure to even make her jostle, “Perhaps you are…” Shadowheart whispered, a little in awe.
Lae’zel stayed notably quiet.
Her thumb finally approached the beginnings of the purple edge of the scar, which elicited a clipped gasp from Shadowheart, the air catching her teeth yet again. Lae’zel paused, continuing only as Shadowheart released her breath, but far slower.
The sensation was nearly indescribable, each nerve that became inseparable to the magic felt scrambled and disorganized. There was a distinct disconnect between where Lae’zel touched and where Shadowheart felt, most likely from the more-frequent-than she-would’ve-liked slaps on the wrist permanently jumbling her senses. It felt as though Lae’zel could’ve been running her fingers up her forearm one second, and tangling with her digits the next. It felt all encompassing, a little disorienting, but undeniably comforting.
Lae’zel leaned in further, steadying Shadowheart’s wrist with her other hand. Her fingers were warm and still, and Shadowheart guessed that for the time being, she was being treated no different from the careful handlings of a blade. It was not as demeaning as it probably should have been.
As Lae’zel’s touch grew ever closer to the black core of the scar, it began to feel numb. Shadowheart guessed that she was more magic than tissue there, as it eroded away her body over the years. There was a definite area that seemed to have more give than the organic parts around it, which Shadowheart frequently fidgeted with. As unnerving as it was, its completely alien nature was hard not to press and pick at, no matter how strange it felt, nor the little aches it gave her when she had tested the limits of its patience. Lae’zel thumbed and fiddled with it for a while, a touch longer than what Shadowheart thought she had the attention for before she spoke.
“It is oily.” Lae’zel remarked, in the most completely and entirely inane way. If Shadowheart had not been so embarrassingly relaxed for the last few minutes, she could’ve throttled her for her casual insensitivity.
Instead, Shadowheart settled for a simple, “What.” As if that would ever give her any insight at all into what Lae’zel was thinking.
Lae’zel gently pulled her hand away, rubbing her thumb against her pointer, and sure enough, a substance had begun to shine iridescently between them. It looked similar to feathers on particularly flashy birds that Shadowheart recalled seeing in a birdwatching book of Gale’s. It shimmering in the light before gradually fading back to matte.
Lae’zel hummed, “It leaves residue on those who do not host it.” She looked at her own digits closer, “Not enough to sustain itself, it seems.”
Shadowheart relaxed her posture a bit, “That is best, isn’t it? I can’t imagine you finding much worth in a lifetime of Lady Shar’s teachings.” She meant for it to come across as humorous, but it fell flat the moment Lae’zel locked eyes with her again.
“...No.” She admitted, at the very least dignifying her joke with a response (which it didn’t deserve). Lae’zel readjusted herself, tilting Shadowheart’s hand around a bit, “The scar remains black, can you not shift its color?”
“I wouldn’t dare try. To cover up Her mark? I’m sure Lady Shar would express her displeasure.” Had she tried before? She couldn’t recall.
“I was not suggesting you hide its nature. Hmh, perhaps I did not word my question well enough.”
“What do you mean, then?” Hmph, and Shadowheart was expected to be the cryptic one.
“I am able to shift the color of my spots, though the range is limited.”
“You mean, like animals that change color to blend in with their surroundings?”
“Yes. Probably.” Right, Lae’zel was still only becoming familiar with the fauna of Faerûn.
“Well, you can’t just tell me that and not show me.” She hoped she didn’t sound too excited. It was embarrassing how much she found Lae’zel utterly fascinating at this moment. Just the two of them, exchanging soft touches she never would have imagined giving or receiving — and certainly never with Lae’zel.
Lae’zel rolled her eyes before allowing them to fall shut. She sat up, taking a more meditative posture. Shadowheart watched her chest expand with a deep inhale, mimicking her breathing herself as Lae’zel then exhaled softly.
The dark spots that speckled Lae’zel’s face didn’t look any different — at first. Slowly, they began to take on a different hue. Green gradually bled into those dark patches like fabric taking dye. Lae’zel’s brow furrowed in her concentration. The green deepened, and Shadowheart was only distracted momentarily by the twitch of Lae’zel’s ear and the rumble in her throat that followed.
The colorful patches of skin darkened to a blue that shimmered in the glow around them. Perhaps Lae’zel had attempted to match them best to the environment of the Underdark. Whatever her aim, this aspect of her appearance was undeniably…
“...beautiful,” Shadowheart breathed, reaching with her free hand to place her thumb on one of those spots beneath Lae’zel’s eye. It was raised slightly, and almost scaly in texture. She wondered if most found the lizard-like features off-putting, in the same way some would flinch away in disgust from a snake. Perhaps she would have once thought such a thing, just as she believed the Githyanki people to be nothing but war-hungry and bloodthirsty.
Lae’zel was proving that wrong.
How irritating…
Lae’zel’s concentration wavered, her expression souring as her breathing grew less controlled. Her spots graded towards a deep sea green, as she growled to herself, staying deathly still. Shadowheart swallowed, running her fingers across her cheek, along her jaw, and down her neck to reach her shoulder. Each spot felt warmer than the rest of Lae’zel, the blood rushing to those areas to shift their hue, Shadowheart presumed.
She circled the collection of spots near the junction of her throat and her shoulder, which Lae’zel’s ears fluttered at, as a deep rumble rippled in her throat. She seemed to tip her head back slightly to allow further inspection, which Shadowheart could only find amusing. However beastly and brutish Lae’zel appeared, there was always some counterbalance, some hint of an… affectionate animal, hidden behind the rotten attitude and sharp edges. Shadowheart wished she had realized sooner. Maybe then… all of this wouldn’t be so hard. It wouldn’t sit in her stomach, and clog her chest, as it now had.
Shadowheart felt an ache settle in her mind, a nagging thing that yanked at her in a way too familiar to be the likes of the tadpole. Her hand froze, barely touching her knuckles against Lae’zel’s warm ridges. This was not curiosity.
Lae’zel’s hand moved up, slender fingers sliding over her wrist and encircling it with a light grasp. Gold ringed deep black pupils that locked with her own gaze. She was drawn in. Her heart thumped, threatening to get stuck in her throat.
“Shadowheart,” spoke Lae’zel, achingly soft. “Listen to me.”
“I am.”
“Your gentle caresses…your inquisitive gaze…it drives me mad,” the last word came out in a growl that sent a shiver through Shadowheart. “If you would allow me, I want to touch you. To please you—”
“No,” blurted Shadowheart. If her palms weren’t sweaty before (they were) they certainly were now. “We can’t.” She shouldn’t.
She pried herself from Lae’zel’s grip, her hand moving instinctively to clutch the other, anticipating a shock.
The look on Lae’zel’s face was painful as it was; her lip curled like she was going to snarl at her, only for the sad flicker of her eyes to betray her. Shadowheart had seen Lae’zel’s heart shatter once, after all.
She swallowed, tearing her own eyes away from Lae’zel’s before she could let herself get lost in them again.
“I’m sorry, Lae’zel.” Shadowheart climbed to her feet, then, refusing to look at the other woman as she walked off. Looking back would only make her heart ache more. She pressed her hand to her chest as she readied her prayers — Lady guide her.
…
Lae’zel hollered, lifting her sword above her head before embedding it into the trunk of a long dead tree. The night here was eternal, just as in the Astral Plane, but her exhaustion screamed that she should’ve been asleep with her companions hours before. She tugged the silver blade from the splintered wood, it spitting some shrapnel to the ground as she clumsily readied herself for another strike.
She held her breath, wrapping her fingers so tight around the hilt it would be near impossible to tell where Gith began and weapon ended. You would be forgiven for believing there was no such difference, as Lae’zel knew there was little that made her more than the violence she dispensed. She just kept proving that point, it seemed.
Crack.
She struck the rotten side of a trunk, its wounds barely affecting its ugly visage. Of course… how could knowing the suffering of such a thing lessen a soreness of the eyes. Every mark Lae’zel made into its flesh uncovered only the unpleasant sap and wrigglings of insects. She pulled her sword loose before they crawled upon it.
Crack. Crack.
Her blade found the weak center of a tree she had abused for longer than she cared to think about, watching as it slumped lamely to the side, unspeaking and stupid. It had rooted itself in the ground, such a seemingly sturdy appearance, yet completely defenseless against her own wrath. Her own show of strength felt hollow, she wished she knew how to put her sword down.
Crack…
She heaved. She bent her rigid posture, and huffed in the face of the ground beneath her. She… could not understand. When had she become so repulsive? When had she started thinking she could be anything but? What… what was wrong with her?
Could she ever be right? Could she… be more?
… Crack.
She let her hold go limp. With one hand still on the hilt, she brought the other up to her cheek. Lae’zel could still feel the ghost of Shadowheart’s touch. She had approached her so tenderly. And she had allowed Lae’zel to do the same.
It burned. Her face burned where Shadowheart’s fingers had caressed her so gently, where Shadowheart’s eyes had wandered. She tried to focus her blurring vision on the flex of her fingers — the extension and retraction of her claws, the very thing that had initiated it all. A weapon, embedded into the very physicality of her being.
She growled through her teeth, grabbed her sword with both hands again, lifted it, and brought it down with a roar.
Crack!
Shadowheart had once threatened her with a blade to the throat. But nothing she could have done that night would have cut Lae’zel deeper.