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Song of Valour

Summary:

Shadowheart has a long-awaited talk with Isobel after the events of Moonrise and Aylin's return. As the two clerics speak, Shadowheart realizes her view of the future, and of her purpose in life, has changed.

Work Text:

Shadowheart woke just before dawn. A faint sound filled the camp, not a buzzing exactly, but a tuneless song. It seemed to imbue the very air with an essence of strength, one that poured into Shadowheart's lungs as she breathed. She felt whole in a way she hadn't since the Shadowfell. More than that, she felt powerful, emboldened to take on any challenge that stood in her way. Rising to her feet, she tiptoed through the camp, searching for the source of the noise.

She found it easily. A makeshift tent had been set up on the far reaches of the camp, a pile of blankets placed inside it to act as a bed. Atop the blankets lay two figures: one a white-winged aasimar, the other a silver-haired cleric. The two women were bare of clothing, with only Aylin's wings to cover them. The song seemed to radiate from Aylin as she slept, as though her happiness was too great to be contained within her body. Shadowheart watched for a long moment, then jumped as she realized Isobel's eyes were open. She instinctively backed away, but froze as Isobel shook her head. Carefully sliding out from beneath Aylin's arm, Isobel retrieved a blanket and wrapped it around herself before gesturing silently toward the nearby stream. Shadowheart nodded and followed. When they were far enough away that their voices would not disturb the sleeping half-angel, Isobel turned to Shadowheart. "I've wanted to talk to you. I've been meaning to take you aside for days, but everything has been so hectic. The battle, Aylin's return, the curse lifting, and my father..."

She glanced in the direction of Moonrise Towers. Shadowheart suddenly felt awkward, remembering whose daughter Isobel was. "I know it's little consolation, but we tried to make his death quick. It was Myrkul who dragged the whole thing out, not us."

Isobel frowned. "I do not regret his death. He deserved a far worse fate than you gave him." She shook her head, a fleeting look of anguish passing across her features. "All my life, I thought he understood me. We would talk for hours. He taught me how to read a map, how to speak the prayers to Selune. And yet he couldn't see what was most important to me. The person I loved more than anything in the world."

"He was aware that you and Aylin were lovers?" Shadowheart asked quietly.

Isobel nodded. "More than lovers. I told him as much, again and again. She was everything to me, and he knew that. And when I died, rather than protect her for my sake, he..." she flinched. "He tortured her. Murdered her, again and again, for his own personal gain. My Aylin. The woman I would gladly have laid down my life to save. He nearly broke her."

She turned and looked sorrowfully at Shadowheart. "I spoke with Aylin last night. She told me what you did, or rather, what you didn't do. You defied Shar's will for the sake of a woman you'd never even met before. An aasimar, the daughter of your goddess's sworn enemy. You made yourself a target, placed yourself in terrible danger, all because you refused to kill an innocent. My Aylin." Isobel shuddered. "She has yet to tell me everything that Ketheric did to her. Perhaps she never will. But I know enough to realize that by the time you found her, a part of her longed for death. For an end to her misery. Thank you for giving her the life she deserves, rather than the oblivion she craved."

Isobel turned her face away, and Shadowheart saw the glint of tears on her pale cheeks. Carefully, the former Sharran rested her hand on Isobel's bare shoulder. "I don't regret what I did. Sparing her life. Shar's followers can come for me all they like."

"They will. Oh, they will," Isobel murmured. "And when they do, Aylin and I will be at your side to defend you. You have our eternal loyalty."

The simplicity of her statement required no response, and the pair of them looked out over the water for a long moment. "What is that sound she's making?" Shadowheart asked at last. "You hear it, don't you?"

"The Song of Valour," Isobel answered with a soft smile. "Each of Selune's daughters has their own song with its own power to inspire. Song of Faith, Song of Mercy, and so forth. The songs happen unconsciously, when an aasimar is truly happy or at peace. I've only heard Aylin's song once before: the night we confessed our love to each other. But there are legends about the angel songs stretching back a thousand years. People say the Song of Valour can inspire armies to march a hundred leagues, can strengthen the weakest heart and make cowards into heroes."

"Hearing it now, I could believe the stories are true," Shadowheart commented. "I feel ready to take on anything."

Isobel's lips curved into a half smile. "Well, perhaps wait until after breakfast. I'll start cooking in a minute... if I can figure out where Aylin put my clothes."

Her face reddened, and Shadowheart chuckled. "I have a spare set of camp clothes you can borrow for the time being. You must be getting cold."

Isobel nodded, her blush deepening. "You'd be surprised how warm those wings of hers are."

"I'll take your word for it," Shadowheart answered, guiding Isobel back towards her tent. "Somehow I doubt I'll be acquiring an aasimar lover anytime soon."

"You never know. Aylin does have sisters," Isobel teased. "None of them are quite as unbearably beautiful, of course, but I hear good things."

Shadowheart smiled, shaking her head as she retrieved a neatly folded set of clothes from a spare pack. "Who knows what the future holds? In the meantime, you can lower the tent flap if you want privacy to change."

Isobel took the clothes with a nod of thanks. As she turned to enter the tent, their eyes met. In that brief moment of connection, Shadowheart saw a dozen different emotions in the cleric's gaze: gratitude, love, fear, relief, disbelief, joy, sorrow. She understood how much it had taken for Isobel to approach her. They hardly knew one another, after all, and yet Shadowheart had saved the most important person in her life. At the Last Light Inn, their interactions had been frosty at best, a Sharran and a Selûnite barely concealing hostility. So much had changed in such a short time. Shadowheart felt as though all the barriers that had concealed Isobel's true self from view had crumbled, felled by the force of Aylin's return. The two women completed one another, their hearts so intertwined as to be inseparable. For all Isobel's promises that the pair would fight at Shadowheart's side, It felt more natural that Shadowheart would fight for them instead. A strange part of her felt responsible for Aylin now, after saving the starved and tortured aasimar from the Shadowfell. Remembering how the lovers had looked as they'd embraced for the first time in a century, Shadowheart gritted her teeth. She knew with absolute certainty that Ketheric would not be the last scheming wretch to go after Aylin for the sake of her immortal power. And though her money was on Aylin in any fight with swords and shields, there were far more nefarious ways to force a half-angel in love into servitude. The glorious song still radiating through the campsite was proof of where Aylin's weakness lay. If some power-hungry bastard managed to get their hands on Isobel, Aylin would give up anything to save the cleric's life. Even her freedom and her immortality. Shadowheart could not let that happen.

As Isobel emerged from the tent and went to the fire to begin cooking, Shadowheart followed a step behind. There was no way to know how their journey to Baldur's Gate would turn out. They had an elder brain to contend with, not to mention the remaining two "Chosen" and the mind-flayer parasites still squirming in their skulls. But if by some miracle they did survive, she would talk to Isobel and come to some arrangement. Perhaps it was the effect of Aylin's strange and otherworldly song, but Shadowheart felt a sense of purpose flowering in her chest, taking root within her. Even before speaking to Isobel, she'd felt compelled to learn more about Selûne, the goddess she'd so often spurned and mocked. What better teachers were there than Selûne's own daughter and her priestess lover? Shadowheart would stay with the pair of them for as long as they allowed it, guarding the women against any who might seek to hurt them. The love between a celestial and a mortal was too pure, too rare and wondrous, to be threatened. So long as Shadowheart lived, Isobel and Aylin would be safe.