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Tavyndra had been on the road for the better part of the past tenday. It was more than she'd traveled since defeating The Absolute, and the going was slower than she'd prefer given that she was traveling with a caravan, but it felt good to be out of the city again. The next day was Highharvestide and the sun was just beginning to set as their destination came into view: Moonrise Tower was nearly unrecognizable to her. No longer was the area thick with the cursed fog that had enveloped it and the surrounding forest for a hundred years; rather, the tower and the trees beyond it almost seemed to glow in the light of the setting sun—still flourishing despite the chill in the air that signaled the fast approach of winter.
She sat on the back of a cargo wagon, piled high with trunks full of goods, her legs dangling from the edge, and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head as a breeze swept through the surrounding area, bringing with it a flurry of leaves and a familiar raven. She sat up straight and smiled, holding out her arm for the beast, who gracefully perched upon it.
“What news, Coalwing?” She asked eagerly.
“No news tonight,” he replied, “Master Halsin has simply requested that I confirm with you that you will be arriving tomorrow evening, that I do not dally so that he may know as soon as possible, and to tell you that he cannot wait to have you in his arms again.”
A flush rising in her cheeks, Tavyndra couldn't stop a little smile from appearing on her lips.
“Yes,” she said, “We have only a day more of waiting. These last hours will be excruciating.” Take all my love with you—oh, and this!” Impulsively, she removed the clasp from her cloak and kissed it before holding it in her open palm. “May the winds take you swiftly, my friend.” The raven nodded and gently took the clasp in its claws, flying away as quickly as it had come. She lifted her legs back onto the wagon and pulled out her lyre, plucking the strings and working on her latest piece.
Before long, the sun had sunk beneath the horizon and the sky filled with stars, a tiny sliver of moon drifting in and out of the clouds. The caravan pushed through the night, stopping only briefly for a light meal, and reached Reithwin a few hours after midnight.
There was still much work to be done in restoring the town, but it was already remarkable how different it was. It was clean, and though it was only in the small hours of the morning, the streets were lined with warmly glowing lamps. She stood, balancing herself against the crates in front of her, and grinned. Even in the dark, it was beautiful. The caravan stopped in orderly fashion at the old tollhouse, which had been turned into an inn which could rival any of those in Baldur's Gate, if only for its size. Finally, she thought, eager to rest. Her body ached from the rough ride and looked forward to resting somewhere softer than the ground. Wood elf though she was, she preferred to rest somewhere soft and warm after living most of her life within the city. She never knew her parents; they'd died when she was very small. She was taken in by a family of human merchants that had long since faltered and whose line had ended shortly thereafter, but there was no love lost there—well-intentioned though they were, the relationship between them never quite felt like a parental one, especially when they began to have children of their own. In truth, she could no longer even recall the name, and nor did she care. It was because of this unique upbringing that she also slept at night more often than not, rather than meditate. She knew how, although she was far less practiced than her peers, and besides, she found dreams to be fascinating—not to mention a welcome respite from the waking world. Even in meditation, she was mindful of her surroundings and didn't necessarily always want to be.
She dismounted the wagon and headed into the inn, and immediately saw Alfira sitting at a table softly playing the lute beside Lia—nursing the last bit of a tankard of ale—and Cal, who was hunched over the table sleeping.
“There she is!” Lia said excitedly, elbowing her brother awake before rushing over to pull Tavyndra into a tight hug. Alfira quickly followed and Cal, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, came after.
“You three shouldn't have stayed up just to greet me,” Tavyndra chided, hugging them all in turn, “It's not like we don't see each other in Baldur's Gate all the time. We've a long day tomorrow!”
“Nonsense,” Alfira retorted, “Besides, you aren't staying here, but in the tower—where are your things?”
“They're still on the wagon. I'm so exhausted; I was just planning on bringing them inside in the morning...”
“Well,” Lia interjected, “I'm afraid you have a little farther to go before you can rest.”
“Oh, alright,” Tavyndra groaned. Alfira excused herself for a moment while Lia and Cal followed the weary elf to her traveler's chest, and together the three heaved it off of the wagon.
“Thankfully, Rolan made this last bit easy for us,” Alfira said, approaching them with a large painting. “It's a portal,” she explained when Tavyndra gave her a quizzical look, “You just have to touch it. The other painting is already in your room. When you're through, I'll bring this one into my room here for safekeeping.”
“Thank goodness,” Tavyndra sighed, relieved. Alfira held the painting up while the other three lifted the trunk once more. They reached out and touched the painting together, and in an instant they were transported to the room in Moonrise Tower that had once belonged to Melodia Thorm. The fireplace in the corner was crackling with a low fire, and its warmth filled the room—a welcome change from the increasingly chilly night air from the previous days. It had been completely repaired and refurnished: most notably with a large, finely crafted wood canopy bed. It was draped with sheer golden silk and made with ivory sateen sheets covered by a midnight blue velvet quilt embroidered with metallic gold thread. They put down the trunk where they had landed, which was beside the door that led to Ketheric Thorm's old quarters. Then, the two tieflings bid Tavyndra good night.
Finally alone, Tavyndra undressed and pulled back the covers on the bed. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the stitches were all in the shape of little seven and eight-pointed stars, so that the quilt resembled a moonless night sky. She doused the candle beside the bed, and then nestled herself in the covers, drifting off to sleep almost before her head even reached the pillow.
Having slept later than she had intended, Tavyndra leapt out of bed the following morning, a little frantic. She had commissioned a special gown for the occasion, and was eager to wear it, but it was also more complex than what she normally wore, and therefore took her longer to put on. She started with thin silk stockings and brown suede heeled shoes with a series of little gold buckles that stopped just beneath her ankles. If she had someone to assist her with dressing, they would have come last, but as it was she found it easier to put on her shoes before her stays. The gown itself was comprised of a golden brown silk underskirt, peering through the center of an overskirt comprised of hundreds of perfect folds of a plush deep green velvet, trimmed down the front with wide gold ribbon and along the hem with deep brown rabbit fur. The bodice was made from a brocade featuring a tapestry of flowers and leaves connected with vines, birds and berries in a variety of colors on a base of midnight blue, so dark it almost appeared black under all the brighter colors. At her shoulders were small puffs of the same green velvet as the skirt, adorned with strips of gold jaquard ribbon. The sleeves were made with sheer silk in a shade of lightest gold—nearly ivory, but with a slight metallic sheen—and latticed all around with fine leather cord, accented with tiny red and gold beads, ending at her wrists with a pair of ruffled cuffs. Over these straight sleeves were draped oversleeves of the same velvet as the skirt—lined with gold velveteen and trimmed with the same fur—that buttoned with red gems just above her elbows. She wore a partlet made with the same material as the sleeves, which tied snugly around her neck with a pair of tiny gold ribbons. Finally, she styled her hair—the easy part of the job, since it was how she styled it most days: twin twists that met in the back and bundled into a low bun. Normally she would leave little tendrils loose in the front, but today she styled it more neatly and pulled it all back away from her face into the braids, and added decorative gold pins in the shape of flowers and leaves all along them.
She finished dressing just before noon, which was precisely when the festivities were to begin. Before heading down to join everyone, she went out to the balcony for some fresh air. She leaned against the railing, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself. The view was incredible now that the shadow-curse was gone. The sun shone brightly overhead, glittering on the water below, and providing warmth to contrast the bracing autumn air. In the distance, she could hear the bustle of the gathering crowd outside the gate. She whirled around, smiling, and walked through her room and into the hall and down the stairs.
As she reached the bottom of the first set of stairs, she could see through the stone arch that the hall was filled on either side with long tables for the feast that would take place later that evening. The tables—and indeed the entire room—were adorned with wreaths and garlands made of fallen leaves and pine cones that filled the air with a lovely smell, in addition to the many wood-burning braziers that filled the hall with light and warmth. Through the double doors on the far side of the hall, she could hear the bustle of merchants and the gathering crowd in the entry hall. And then, as if it was fated, she saw Halsin walk through the doors, flanked on either side by a group of children who seemed reluctant to be following him. She ducked out of sight and crept softly down the rounded staircase to the main level. The place where the foreboding throne of Ketheric Thorm once was now housed a massive fireplace that had been carved into the stone.
“Come now,” she could hear Halsin say, exasperated, “We must finish setting the tables now, and then you are all free to enjoy the rest of the day however you wish.” She watched them for a moment from the last step on the stairs. Just as he finished the sentence and the children began to set about their chore, he looked up, and their eyes met. His exasperation was immediately replaced by a wider smile than Tavyndra thought she'd ever seen on his face.
“Tavyndra, my love!” he called, and rushed to her, lifting her off the step and whirling her around in the air—like one might read about in a fairytale, but without a trace of irony. She let out a little surprised gasp as he did, and when he lowered her to the ground, he pulled her closer and met his lips with hers for the first time in what felt like an eternity. She placed her left hand on his chest and her right on his neck. Their lips parted, but they remained close, their foreheads touching.
“I have missed you so dearly,” he whispered, and kissed her again, more deeply, moving his own right hand to her neck as well.
The moment was cut short when one of the children spotted them and then they all ran over to greet her.
“Oh, for pity's sake,” Halsin sighed. Tavyndra shrugged, smiling, and knelt to greet them. Then, taking advantage of the distraction, they scampered off, having only finished half of the tasks he had given them. Halsin pretended not to notice, taking advantage in turn of the quiet they left in their wake. Tavyndra turned back to him and he took both her hands in his and kissed them in turn.
“But come, let me see you,” he said, and she twirled around playfully, blushing.
“Do you like it?” She asked.
“It is...unusual to see you in such finery,” he admitted, “I think I expected something less...elaborate.”
“Oh...” she said, a little crestfallen. Her eyes drifted to the ground.
“That is,” he stammered, “I do not mean to say I dislike it. Just that I would likely not have envisioned you like this.” He gently lifted her chin with his hand and placed it on her cheek, continuing: “Truly, you have outdone yourself.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, the smile returning to her face. She could see that his eyes were glistening with tears, and she felt hers begin to fill as well. She raised her now empty hand to rest on his wrist.
“I love you so much,” she said.
“And I: you,” he replied, leaning in for another kiss.