Chapter Text
Having spent the last few hours lying awake, trying to avoid tossing and turning too much so as not to disturb Shadowheart, Rhian finally rose when sunlight filtered through the curtained window. She sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, holding her head in her hands.
Her girlfriend was still asleep behind her, curling on her side in the empty space Rhian had just vacated.
Rhian looked back over her shoulder, watching her sleep. She looked peaceful, long platinum hair unbound and spilling out over her pillow. Rhian combed her fingers through it, brushing it back out of her face. A small smile appeared on her lips, and Shadowheart turned her head, seeking her touch even in slumber.
Rhian’s heart ached even still. They were lucky, she knew— to be here, to have this, after everything. She only wished she could enjoy it, savor it. They had won, after all, against the odds stacked against them.
Standing, Rhian ignored the protest in her limbs, a dull ache plaguing her from the trials of the previous day. Previous day, she huffed, More like the past several months.
In the middle of the room, she felt suddenly unsure of what to do with herself. She was uneasy, on edge, the feeling that there was something she should be doing would likely take a long time to fade, after so long of hopping from one mission to the next. Preparing for battle after battle. And now— nothing. Just rest. Recovery.
Not feeling particularly hungry, nor wanting to slip back into bed when she’d already been restless, Rhian tapped her fingers on the table. She wanted to get away, she realized. The room was small, suffocating.
Already, she could hear people in the streets and knew clean up efforts were likely underway. It wouldn’t be long before even more noise permeated the room, and there was also the matter of the rest of their friends. With Jaheira’s connections, they’d probably be able to track them down fast enough.
Rhian wasn’t ready to face them yet, either. By now, everyone else should have been filled in about what she’d done.
So she grabbed her shoes, softly closing the door behind her as she left, careful not to disturb Shadowheart’s still-sleeping form.
Rhian released her wolf wildshape— a means to get back out to Wyrm’s Lookout faster, racing up the road and away from Rivington. The camp was as empty as they’d left it, half crumbling and abandoned at the top of a rise looking down towards the city in the distance.
At the foot of the ladder up to the roof, Rhian stared at the first couple of rungs, trying to work up the courage. It had seemed like a good idea back at the inn, coming out here to get some air and put some distance between herself and everything that had occurred back in the city. But now she hesitated, one foot on the bottom-most rung.
Just do it, you coward, she chastised herself, finally pushing up another step, then another, and another, until she was stepping onto the creaky boards.
She ran her hand along the stone barrier running the perimeter, moving to the far side where she could look back out over the city.
Boosting herself up, Rhian drew one leg up under her, sitting and dangling one foot over the wall. It felt like mere hours ago, rather than weeks, that she’d stood up here with Minthara. When she’d hugged her and reassured her she was nothing like Orin, the blood-crazed, power hungry monster they had slain together.
How wrong she’d been.
She wondered now if there was anything she could have done differently, could have said, that would have changed her mind.
She supposed she could only blame herself, after all. Her companions had all had reservations on Rhian’s insistence of bringing her along after her rescue from Moonrise. Shadowheart especially had voiced her concerns to her about it.
Yet Rhian hadn’t backed down.
Even after they’d defeated Myrkul— Ketheric— Minthara had made her position clear, and she’d told Rhian she wouldn’t change her mind, that the only thing that had ever managed to do that was the Absolute, and even that was through brainwashing and effectively mind control.
Rhian heaved a sigh, twisting one of her rings, busying her hands even while flashbacks from the final fight still assaulted her.
Minthara’s apologetic look after she’d stabbed Orpheus.
The drow raising her blade high, intending to strike down not just her, but Karlach… Lae’zel…
Her look of shock when Rhian had dipped in close, driving her dagger up and into her heart.
Flexing her fingers, the feel and weight of the blade still lingered in her hand. Minthara’s blood soaking into her skin.
A shiver ran down her spine.
Even in those final moments, after she’d betrayed them, had she truly felt some kind of remorse?
Had their positions been switched— with Minthara sitting here now instead of her— would she have mourned for her?
Or would Rhian have been just one more obstacle she needed to clear to obtain her final goal, her ultimate power?
Truly, she wasn’t sure. She liked to think she would have felt something for her, yet her actions atop the brain— going after Karlach, especially— spoke of someone who would have written her off as a necessary casualty.
It didn’t matter now. Minthara was gone. And she was not.
It didn’t make her feel any better.
Sometime later, Rhian became aware of someone else’s presence, the dull thud of footsteps on metal as they ascended the tower reaching the edges of her hearing. Rhian waited, ear twitching as she listened.
“I thought I mind find you up here.”
Shadowheart.
Rhian lifted a hand in a halfhearted wave, the smallest acknowledgement of her lover’s presence behind her before she returned to tracing her finger across the top of the stone under her.
“May I?” Shadowheart whispered once she was standing behind her.
“Hm?” Rhian pulled herself back to the present, tilting her head to find Shadowheart hovering close, arms poised to wrap around her, “Oh. Yeah, that’s fine.”
Shadowheart slipped her arms around her, laying her cheek against the top of her shoulder, holding her close. Something eased within her, and she leaned back into Shadowheart.
They sat in silence, Rhian just soaking in her affection, until she finally felt okay enough to admit, “I loved her.”
“I know.”
“I never wanted it to come to that,” she continued, “Why did she… She had to know I was never going to stand by…”
Shadowheart shook her head against her, “I don’t know. But even love isn’t enough to save everyone.”
Rhian’s response was quiet, barely a whisper, “It saved you.”
“Hmm,” she could feel Shadowheart’s smile when she pressed her lips against the side of her neck, murmuring her agreement, “I suppose it did, thanks to you.”
When she didn’t say anything more, Shadowheart squeezed her tighter, “Rhian… Please don’t beat yourself up over this forever.”
“I killed her, Shads.”
“She didn’t give you much choice. I’m only sorry I told you—“
“No,” Rhian jerked away, breaking out of Shadowheart’s hold to spin around and face her, “No, Shads. Don’t. Don’t say that. It’s not on you.”
“Then it’s not on you either.”
Rhian wanted to argue with her, opening her mouth to do as much, only for Shadowheart to lightly grip her chin, tilting her head up to look at her. Rhian’s protests fell silent, eyes locked on her cleric’s earnest gaze, worry creasing around her eyes. “If I’m not allowed to blame myself, then neither are you, my dove.”
Rhian stilled. The use of her pet name always destabilized her, and her arguments disappeared. She closed her eyes, the corner of her mouth curling into the smallest, most tentative smile. “There you are,” Shadowheart whispered.
Fighting down tears, Rhian covered Shadowheart’s hand with her own, pressing into her. “No promises, Shads.”
“Mmm,” Shadowheart pressed a kiss against her brow, “One promise?”
Cocking her head— something Shadowheart always said made her look more creature than elf— Rhian silently asked her to explain.
“Promise me you’ll try? For me?”
“Okay,” voice thick with unshed tears, Rhian agreed, offering her another minuscule smile, “I’ll try, so long as you do, too.”
“Of course.”
Moving to stand, Rhian sealed their deal with a kiss. “Shads…” she breathed against her lips, “Shadowheart. I love you.”
They’d said those words before, after the House of Grief, after Rhian had died to Ansur, right before climbing up to face their final fight. And she’d missed a lot of opportunities to say them, too— she wasn’t letting those pass her by anymore.
Shadowheart grabbed the front of her shirt, surprising Rhian by pulling her back into a heated kiss. Rhian laughed against her.
“I love you, too, Rhian,” she mumbled, eyes half closed, hands loosening from the fabric of her shirt to settle at her waist, “And you’ll get through this.”
“Of course. I’ve got you.”