mickume/dnd_drow · Datasets at Hugging Face

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She saw Lae’zel’s hands on the reflection, carefully taking her bangs and parting them. It was methodical, but there was a gentleness on her hands Shadowheart had never seen, less felt coming from the githyanki.
Shadowheart saw Lae’zel cut some bangs with the dagger, move away others. A voice in her brain said some scissors would have been better for the job, but she knew Lae’zel was more skilled with blades. It was fine.
Soon she could see her own forehead.
"Like this," said Lae’zel as soon as she finished.
"That wasn’t much of a suggestion, was it?"
"Do you like it or not?" She could see Lae’zel gripping hard the dagger. Not with anger, it was... anxiety?
She looked at herself in the mirror. Truly looked. Her new self. Remains of make-up from the previous day, she had forgotten to wash her face the previous night. She could still see her freckles, her deep green eyes, but she wasn’t hiding behind those bangs anymore.
Shadowheart felt like she was seeing herself for the first time.
Tearing her gaze away from the mirror, she looked up at Lae’zel, a smile appearing on her face.
Time seemed to stop for an eternity. Lae’zel was clearly taken aback by her response, and yet didn’t back away. She looked straight at her, eyes glowing, a deep color extending over her cheeks, arriving at the tips of her ears.
What possessed Shadowheart was a mystery. But she stood up at the same time Lae’zel leaned down, and their lips met in the middle.
Something exploded inside Shadowheart’s chest. A warmth, a firecracker, a door opening to something she had been suppressing deep down.
(For how long? A while, at least.)
Lae’zel’s hands found her hair just as Shadowheart found her shoulders, one dropping the dagger and the other the mirror, carelessly, trying to support each other as their lips touched. It wasn’t a deep kiss, it wasn’t angry, it was tender .
Lae’zel was full of surprises, wasn’t she?
The world started spinning again as they separated. Lae’zel had moved her hands to Shadowheart’s shoulders, and looked straight into the cleric’s eyes. To be fair, Shadowheart couldn’t tear her eyes away from her, either.
That’s how she saw the panic rising.
"This was a—"
"Amazing. This was amazing," Shadowheart interrupted, and Lae’zel closed her mouth. "I wanted this. You wanted this. It was great."
It took Lae’zel a few seconds, but she finally nodded in agreement.
"We don’t..." Shadowheart continued. She bit her lip. "We don’t have to talk about this, though. If you don’t want to."
"I’ll..." Lae’zel started saying, but stopped herself. Her hands dropped from Shadowheart’s shoulders, taking with them part of the warmth. "We’ll talk. Later."
That said, she stepped back, and kneeled to grab the dagger she had dropped. She went away. Quickly.
Just as Shadowheart heard Astarion’s distinct voice coming from camp.
"WHO HAS STOLEN MY MIRROR?!"
Shadowheart was the first to realize that person wasn’t Lae’zel.
Several days had passed from their kiss, and they arrived at Rivington, and then they had made their way into the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate. Before doing that, though, they had met the biggest asshole in the city and the most annoying woman in the world.
In other words, they met Lord Gortash, who had sold Karlach to Zariel, and Orin, who as it turned out was Tav’s half-sister.
"I don’t claim her," Tav said immediately after their first encounter.
"She doesn’t claim you either, it seems," Gale chipped in. Then added in a deadpan voice. "Yay, family."
But Lord Gortash had said something deeply unsettling. He had said Orin had already infiltrated in their camp. And they had already seen her mimicking abilities were impeccable.
But that night, Lae’zel slept without snoring. As she had for at least three nights.
It was so stupid. Shadowheart was so stupid. Infuriating. How hadn’t she notices earlier? The only time Lae’zel hadn’t snored had been when they had cuddled together. Every single other night, Lae’zel had been the loudest at camp, always present, always there, there, there.
"Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing?" Tav had been on watch, and saw Shadowheart going straight at the fake Lae’zel, dagger in hand.
"Lae’zel should be snoring. Lae’zel should have talked to me days ago," just her voice could have killed someone.
She was furious, she was broken, she couldn’t believe herself, but there was no other option, it was Lae’zel, it was her, her, her.
"Are you... are you sure?" Tav said in barely a whisper.
"I’m certain."
What followed, Shadowheart could barely remember. Tav threw a Hold Person spell at "Lae’zel’, and had no effect. "Lae’zel’ stood up, feigning innocence, she talked. Everyone woke up. She pointed at the child they had picked up days before. Scratch barked. Shadowheart countered. She screamed. She cried. "Lae’zel’’s smile turned cruel, twisted, and her neck snapped.
The owlbear let out a long squeak, furious.
Shadowheart saw red.
Karlach had to physically restrain her so she wouldn’t face Orin right then and there.
Her first clear memory was from an hour later. Tav was talking to her, clutching her hand.
"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’ll start searching for the temple first light tomorrow. We’ll save her. I’m sorry. This is my fault. I’m sorry."
"Don’t," Shadowheart put her free hand on top of Tav’s, "you don’t choose your family. You didn’t tell her to obsess over you."
"You are your own new person," Shadowheart cut them. "You chose who you are today. Doesn’t matter the circumstances or what happened before."
"Alright," Shadowheart felt a bit of tension slip from Tav, their gripping on her hand releasing a little.
"You can cry, if you need to," she said. Tav was already crying. They let out a weak laugh, and smiled sadly at Shadowheart.
"You can do it too, you know?"
Puffy eyes and everything, they started investigating the next morning. Just as Tav had promised.
(If they hadn’t kept their promise, Shadowheart would have kicked their ass first, and then she would have started looking by herself.)
It took a week.
A week, running around Baldur’s Gate, following a serial killer and its clones. A week finding bodies, and parts of bodies. Of blood, or macabre rituals, of letters smudged in blood. Of kicking demons, of arguing with the city watch and the Flaming Fist.
Shadowheart was fueled, mostly, by rage.
They got to the temple. Tav barely left their creepy butler talk, they would have kicked the door down if needed, and Shadowheart would have helped without even asking.
There she was. Lae’zel. Chained to an altar. Laying as if dead, but asleep. She was breathing.
She was breathing.
Orin was dumb enough. She believed Tav when they said they had already gotten rid of Gortash, and that made her move away from Lae’zel’s sleeping form. The grip on Shadowheart’s chest released, even if it was just a bit.
(Get away from her, she needed to get Orin to get away from Lae’zel, to kill her, destroy the fuck out of her, to— )
Shadowheart wanted to kill Orin herself, but because of some bhaalspawn bullshit she seemed very insistent on fighting Tav alone.
(Shadowheart was about to protest that, but Tav’s look had reassured her Lae’zel wouldn’t get hurt. Not on their watch.)
"Destroy her, Tav," Shadowheart said.
"If she kills me..."
"She won’t. I’ll revive you myself."
"Maybe they won’t let you do that."
"Do you think they can stop me?" Shadowheart arched an eyebrow. A timid smile appeared on Tav’s lips. They knew she was completely serious.
(And no, they wouldn’t be able to stop her.)
Karlach put a hand on Shadowheart’s shoulder as Tav entered the ring.
And honestly? The battle was quite short. Tav was way more brutal than Shadowheart had realized. Must have been the genes. It was truly a spectacle seeing them fight.
(When had they become that strong? She didn’t recall. Couldn’t really. In battle she was more preoccupied of saving her own skin and healing everyone than actually paying attention to how they fought. Their movements, their spells, their technique.
It was kind of a mystery to her. Except for Lae’zel.
She had told herself she was just taking precautions, and that she wasn’t doing it that much, knowing the githyanki held resentment against her. If Shadowheart saw her fighting, it would be easier to best her in a fight.
Now she realized there was maybe something else behind that excuse.)
Shadowheart had been ready to fight, just in case the cultists turned against them after seeing their leader’s death. As it turned out, Tav had been their previous leader.
So the cultists bowed in deep respect.
Shadowheart started running towards the ring, but Karlach grabbed her arm.
"Wait," and Shadowheart wanted to protest, but then she saw what the tiefling was pointing at.
The torso of the beast Orin had transformed into crawled towards Tav, never arriving to touch their feet, dissolving before that. But just as this happened, the funky creepy creature that called itself Sceleritas Fel jumped on top of the altar, on top of Lae’zel, and said, delighted, in awe:
"Master. You are the chosen one."
What happened after that was Tav’s issue, but if the first thing Shadowhart heard her father say was "I expected the other one’ she would have made more of a fuss.
"Yeah. No, thanks," Tav said, their face cringing, to their father’s offering.
"If you refuse my gift, I will extinguish you," the deep voice came from the floating corpse.
"Been there," Tav shrugged. "Could be worse. I could be living in your bloody image."
"Tav," Astarion started saying, but they lifted a hand and looked at them and gosh, they were smiling, and they were absolutely terrified.
"You can do without me, can you?"
"No, we can’t," Gale protested, and to that Tav just shrugged again.
"You’ll have to learn, then."
Long story short, Tav died. There were a lot of tears, and screams, and wasted healing and resurrection spells.
And then Withers arrived and saved the day.
"Guys, I’m fiiiine. I promise! Better than ever, I swear," Tav laughed back at camp.
"You died," Wyll said.
"We’ve all died at some point," Tav shrugged.
"Completely died! No returns," Wyll insisted.
"Your dearest father sucked your very essence, people don’t come back from that, Tav," Gale said, and Tav held up a finger.
"Never dearest, no longer my father. But grandpa had my back!"
"Do not call me your grandpa. I am in no way related to you," Withers said from the other end of the room, all in his usual monotone voice.
"Yeah, whatever. Should we have dinner, then?" Tav asked, and there was more than one groan in response.
"Are they like this all the time?" Jaheira asked, and Shadowheart could only nod.
Lae’zel wasn’t awake yet. Shadowheart hadn’t left her side from the moment they had liberated her from the altar. In fact, she, Karlach and Wyll had carried her back to the inn while the rest of the group explored the temple. It was something necessary, as there might be vital information somewhere in there. Maybe even a legendary magical weapon.
(As it turned out, there was basically nothing. But it was worth a shot.)

She saw Lae’zel’s hands on the reflection, carefully taking her bangs and parting them. It was methodical, but there was a gentleness on her hands Shadowheart had never seen, less felt coming from the githyanki.

Shadowheart saw Lae’zel cut some bangs with the dagger, move away others. A voice in her brain said some scissors would have been better for the job, but she knew Lae’zel was more skilled with blades. It was fine.

Soon she could see her own forehead.

"Like this," said Lae’zel as soon as she finished.

"That wasn’t much of a suggestion, was it?"

"Do you like it or not?" She could see Lae’zel gripping hard the dagger. Not with anger, it was... anxiety?

She looked at herself in the mirror. Truly looked. Her new self. Remains of make-up from the previous day, she had forgotten to wash her face the previous night. She could still see her freckles, her deep green eyes, but she wasn’t hiding behind those bangs anymore.

Shadowheart felt like she was seeing herself for the first time.

Tearing her gaze away from the mirror, she looked up at Lae’zel, a smile appearing on her face.

Time seemed to stop for an eternity. Lae’zel was clearly taken aback by her response, and yet didn’t back away. She looked straight at her, eyes glowing, a deep color extending over her cheeks, arriving at the tips of her ears.

What possessed Shadowheart was a mystery. But she stood up at the same time Lae’zel leaned down, and their lips met in the middle.

Something exploded inside Shadowheart’s chest. A warmth, a firecracker, a door opening to something she had been suppressing deep down.

(For how long? A while, at least.)

Lae’zel’s hands found her hair just as Shadowheart found her shoulders, one dropping the dagger and the other the mirror, carelessly, trying to support each other as their lips touched. It wasn’t a deep kiss, it wasn’t angry, it was tender .

Lae’zel was full of surprises, wasn’t she?

The world started spinning again as they separated. Lae’zel had moved her hands to Shadowheart’s shoulders, and looked straight into the cleric’s eyes. To be fair, Shadowheart couldn’t tear her eyes away from her, either.

That’s how she saw the panic rising.

"This was a—"

"Amazing. This was amazing," Shadowheart interrupted, and Lae’zel closed her mouth. "I wanted this. You wanted this. It was great."

It took Lae’zel a few seconds, but she finally nodded in agreement.

"We don’t..." Shadowheart continued. She bit her lip. "We don’t have to talk about this, though. If you don’t want to."

"I’ll..." Lae’zel started saying, but stopped herself. Her hands dropped from Shadowheart’s shoulders, taking with them part of the warmth. "We’ll talk. Later."

That said, she stepped back, and kneeled to grab the dagger she had dropped. She went away. Quickly.

Just as Shadowheart heard Astarion’s distinct voice coming from camp.

"WHO HAS STOLEN MY MIRROR?!"

Shadowheart was the first to realize that person wasn’t Lae’zel.

Several days had passed from their kiss, and they arrived at Rivington, and then they had made their way into the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate. Before doing that, though, they had met the biggest asshole in the city and the most annoying woman in the world.

In other words, they met Lord Gortash, who had sold Karlach to Zariel, and Orin, who as it turned out was Tav’s half-sister.

"I don’t claim her," Tav said immediately after their first encounter.

"She doesn’t claim you either, it seems," Gale chipped in. Then added in a deadpan voice. "Yay, family."

But Lord Gortash had said something deeply unsettling. He had said Orin had already infiltrated in their camp. And they had already seen her mimicking abilities were impeccable.

But that night, Lae’zel slept without snoring. As she had for at least three nights.

It was so stupid. Shadowheart was so stupid. Infuriating. How hadn’t she notices earlier? The only time Lae’zel hadn’t snored had been when they had cuddled together. Every single other night, Lae’zel had been the loudest at camp, always present, always there, there, there.

"Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing?" Tav had been on watch, and saw Shadowheart going straight at the fake Lae’zel, dagger in hand.

"Lae’zel should be snoring. Lae’zel should have talked to me days ago," just her voice could have killed someone.

She was furious, she was broken, she couldn’t believe herself, but there was no other option, it was Lae’zel, it was her, her, her.

"Are you... are you sure?" Tav said in barely a whisper.

"I’m certain."

What followed, Shadowheart could barely remember. Tav threw a Hold Person spell at "Lae’zel’, and had no effect. "Lae’zel’ stood up, feigning innocence, she talked. Everyone woke up. She pointed at the child they had picked up days before. Scratch barked. Shadowheart countered. She screamed. She cried. "Lae’zel’’s smile turned cruel, twisted, and her neck snapped.

The owlbear let out a long squeak, furious.

Shadowheart saw red.

Karlach had to physically restrain her so she wouldn’t face Orin right then and there.

Her first clear memory was from an hour later. Tav was talking to her, clutching her hand.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’ll start searching for the temple first light tomorrow. We’ll save her. I’m sorry. This is my fault. I’m sorry."

"Don’t," Shadowheart put her free hand on top of Tav’s, "you don’t choose your family. You didn’t tell her to obsess over you."

"You are your own new person," Shadowheart cut them. "You chose who you are today. Doesn’t matter the circumstances or what happened before."

"Alright," Shadowheart felt a bit of tension slip from Tav, their gripping on her hand releasing a little.

"You can cry, if you need to," she said. Tav was already crying. They let out a weak laugh, and smiled sadly at Shadowheart.

"You can do it too, you know?"

Puffy eyes and everything, they started investigating the next morning. Just as Tav had promised.

(If they hadn’t kept their promise, Shadowheart would have kicked their ass first, and then she would have started looking by herself.)

It took a week.

A week, running around Baldur’s Gate, following a serial killer and its clones. A week finding bodies, and parts of bodies. Of blood, or macabre rituals, of letters smudged in blood. Of kicking demons, of arguing with the city watch and the Flaming Fist.

Shadowheart was fueled, mostly, by rage.

They got to the temple. Tav barely left their creepy butler talk, they would have kicked the door down if needed, and Shadowheart would have helped without even asking.

There she was. Lae’zel. Chained to an altar. Laying as if dead, but asleep. She was breathing.

She was breathing.

Orin was dumb enough. She believed Tav when they said they had already gotten rid of Gortash, and that made her move away from Lae’zel’s sleeping form. The grip on Shadowheart’s chest released, even if it was just a bit.

(Get away from her, she needed to get Orin to get away from Lae’zel, to kill her, destroy the fuck out of her, to— )

Shadowheart wanted to kill Orin herself, but because of some bhaalspawn bullshit she seemed very insistent on fighting Tav alone.

(Shadowheart was about to protest that, but Tav’s look had reassured her Lae’zel wouldn’t get hurt. Not on their watch.)

"Destroy her, Tav," Shadowheart said.

"If she kills me..."

"She won’t. I’ll revive you myself."

"Maybe they won’t let you do that."

"Do you think they can stop me?" Shadowheart arched an eyebrow. A timid smile appeared on Tav’s lips. They knew she was completely serious.

(And no, they wouldn’t be able to stop her.)

Karlach put a hand on Shadowheart’s shoulder as Tav entered the ring.

And honestly? The battle was quite short. Tav was way more brutal than Shadowheart had realized. Must have been the genes. It was truly a spectacle seeing them fight.

(When had they become that strong? She didn’t recall. Couldn’t really. In battle she was more preoccupied of saving her own skin and healing everyone than actually paying attention to how they fought. Their movements, their spells, their technique.

It was kind of a mystery to her. Except for Lae’zel.

She had told herself she was just taking precautions, and that she wasn’t doing it that much, knowing the githyanki held resentment against her. If Shadowheart saw her fighting, it would be easier to best her in a fight.

Now she realized there was maybe something else behind that excuse.)

Shadowheart had been ready to fight, just in case the cultists turned against them after seeing their leader’s death. As it turned out, Tav had been their previous leader.

So the cultists bowed in deep respect.

Shadowheart started running towards the ring, but Karlach grabbed her arm.

"Wait," and Shadowheart wanted to protest, but then she saw what the tiefling was pointing at.

The torso of the beast Orin had transformed into crawled towards Tav, never arriving to touch their feet, dissolving before that. But just as this happened, the funky creepy creature that called itself Sceleritas Fel jumped on top of the altar, on top of Lae’zel, and said, delighted, in awe:

"Master. You are the chosen one."

What happened after that was Tav’s issue, but if the first thing Shadowhart heard her father say was "I expected the other one’ she would have made more of a fuss.

"Yeah. No, thanks," Tav said, their face cringing, to their father’s offering.

"If you refuse my gift, I will extinguish you," the deep voice came from the floating corpse.

"Been there," Tav shrugged. "Could be worse. I could be living in your bloody image."

"Tav," Astarion started saying, but they lifted a hand and looked at them and gosh, they were smiling, and they were absolutely terrified.

"You can do without me, can you?"

"No, we can’t," Gale protested, and to that Tav just shrugged again.

"You’ll have to learn, then."

Long story short, Tav died. There were a lot of tears, and screams, and wasted healing and resurrection spells.

And then Withers arrived and saved the day.

"Guys, I’m fiiiine. I promise! Better than ever, I swear," Tav laughed back at camp.

"You died," Wyll said.

"We’ve all died at some point," Tav shrugged.

"Completely died! No returns," Wyll insisted.

"Your dearest father sucked your very essence, people don’t come back from that, Tav," Gale said, and Tav held up a finger.

"Never dearest, no longer my father. But grandpa had my back!"

"Do not call me your grandpa. I am in no way related to you," Withers said from the other end of the room, all in his usual monotone voice.

"Yeah, whatever. Should we have dinner, then?" Tav asked, and there was more than one groan in response.

"Are they like this all the time?" Jaheira asked, and Shadowheart could only nod.

Lae’zel wasn’t awake yet. Shadowheart hadn’t left her side from the moment they had liberated her from the altar. In fact, she, Karlach and Wyll had carried her back to the inn while the rest of the group explored the temple. It was something necessary, as there might be vital information somewhere in there. Maybe even a legendary magical weapon.

(As it turned out, there was basically nothing. But it was worth a shot.)