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As she steps into the foyer, flashing images from a home that stood long ago course through Shadowheart’s mind. Their newly built homestead is a bit different, yet so similar. A painting of Selûne had been hung up on the wall adjacent to the stairs. While the structure generally is the same, the flooring and walls were vastly different, her own styles of purple and white mixing in with Sabrina’s favored blue and green.
It has taken Shadowheart around a year and half to actually settle, however. The two semi-connected homes were built at relatively the same time, her parents choosing to settle in right away. Naturally, Arnell felt apprehensive at the idea of Shadowheart exploring the world due to potential unknown dangers, but ultimately felt at ease knowing Sabrina would be with her for the entire journey.
A part of their travels involved visiting Isobel in Reithwin, helping her restore the town to its former glory. Her most treasured memory, however, was sailing up and down the Sword Coast with Sabrina by her side, traveling to the small isle where the blonde had grown up.
Those six months of travel were necessary, Shadowheart notes. For her own self discovery and expanding the bond she shares with her love. They had visited the grave of Sabrina’s adoptive mother, the blonde showing an aspect of herself in which Shadowheart previously hadn’t been privy to. Normally, the sage is her usual charismatic and charming self, but within the presence of her mother’s final resting place she completely broke down, unable to form a proper sentence and breathing abnormally quick. Shadowheart too had knelt down next to her at that moment, wrapping her arm around the blonde’s shoulder and rubbing soothing circles along her back.
Although she’s never certain one way or the other, Shadowheart assumes their strengthened bond from traveling has made living together quite easier. Their long, six month journey has brought the two women together in ways Shadowheart couldn’t imagine before. In a way, she feels Sabrina and her are one in the same. Despite feeling so grateful for whatever time she has left with her own mother, somehow Shadowheart feels herself grieving a woman she’s never met. Sabrina speaks of her as this extraordinary woman, one Shadowheart wishes she could’ve had the chance at meeting.
Theodora de Fresel had been her name, a sorcerer, like Sabrina, who took her in as her ward after her birth family couldn’t handle her seemingly uncontrollable magic. She raised her as her own, teaching her all she knew about sorcery, and although Shadowheart could never be envious of her lover, hearing of their relationship second hand was eye opening. Theodora’s role as a mother was what Viconia only pretended to be.
It helped solidify her stance regarding the drow cleric, before her trip the isle Shadowheart still would sometimes miss the life she had. Or…the life she thought she had. The so-called devotion to a goddess and Mother Superior she believed equaled to love. But the hardships she had gone through were the furthest thing from love. She knows love now. Love is the warmth of her parents’ hugs, the way Aylin had spun Isobel around after years of believing the other to be dead. Love is Sabrina holding her for hours after her nightmares wake her up from a dead sleep. It is a lone woman raising a child not of her blood unconditionally.
The frequency of her nightmares have increased since moving into their homestead, Shadowheart notices. Sabrina guesses it’s because the quality of sleep she’s receiving since sleeping in a Queen size bed in her own home has improved. Shadowheart supposes the blonde is right, as the ground or a ship is no place to get a decent night’s sleep long enough for dreams to form. And before that, well, they had the Emperor interrupting their sleep ever so often.
Tonight, however, Shadowheart’s nightmares start out somewhat pleasant. She is a child, playing with another little girl around her age, a childhood friend whom she’d naturally forgotten about, despite having all of her memories restored.
Ada. Ada was her name. She is elven, with shoulder-length red hair and freckles. They are running in a lush green meadow, sunshine kissing their cheeks as they chase each other around. The sky suddenly darkens, the girl changing into Viconia and the meadow turning into dark woods. Her present self is watching behind a pair of trees, straining her voice as she tries to shout at the young child of Selûne, yelling at her to run. But as always, the child freezes, too struck by fear to move, and Shadowheart’s present self is silenced.
She awakens drenched in sweat, gasping as she tries to catch her breath. Hot tears begin to pool in her eyes, running down her face and staining her night shirt. Sabrina awakens at once and pulls her into an embrace.
“Hey,” she soothes. “It’s just a nightmare. You’re here. With me. In our home.”
“Sa-Sabrina,” Shadowheart stammers. “I- there was-I…”
Her breathing becomes more rapid. Scratch is barking at their bedroom door, most likely anxious that one of his humans is hurt.
“I’m going to let him in, alright?” Sabrina says, rising from their bed. “Keep breathing slowly, love.”
Shadowheart nods. She doesn’t take her eyes off Sabrina as the blonde heads to the door to let Scratch inside their bedroom.
“She’s okay, Scratch,” Sabrina assures the dog. “Just had a very bad dream.”
The white coated dog whines, then jumps onto the bed, kissing Shadowheart’s tears away.
“Give her some space to breathe,” Sabrina commands Scratch as she climbs back into bed, the sorcerer wrapping an arm around the cleric, soothingly rubbing her back. “Breathe with me, alright?”
Shadowheart nods, following Sabrina’s lead, trying her hardest to stay in sync with her lover’s breathing, despite how much her chest hurts to do so.
“Good,” Sabrina says, two minutes into their breathing exercise. “How are you feeling now?”
Shadowheart blinks her tears away. “Tired,” she answers, collapsing into Sabrina’s arms. “So unbelievably tired.”
Sabrina’s arms wrap around Shadowheart’s torso, her hands rubbing up and down the cleric’s arms softly. “I bet,” she says, pausing momentarily. “Would you like to talk about it?”
Shadowheart shrugs. “The awful part was the same as usual.”
“The awful part?” Sabrina questions.
“I-I don’t know,” Shadowheart says. “I thought when Shar returned my memories, I would remember everything. But I believe there’s things I’ve forgotten on my own. Such as…”
“It’s natural to forget things even from happy childhoods,” Sabrina explains. “Let alone the trauma you’ve experienced. What did you remember in your dream?”
Shadowheart hesitates for a moment before breathing deeply.
“I was a child,” her voice is monotone as she recalls her nightmare. “Playing with another child. She was elven. Red hair with freckles. I think-I think we were friends. But then everything switched to my usual nightmare. Viconia. My present self is silenced as I watch my past self frozen in fear.”
Sabrina is swirling Shadowheart’s wavy hair with her fingers, listening attentively.
“That’s unfortunate such a nice memory turned into something awful,” Sabrina says. “It must’ve been unpleasant. I’m sorry, my love.”
Shadowheart shakes her head, wiping away at her tears. “Don’t be,” she says. “It’s just something I have to learn to deal with from time to time.”
The blonde takes Shadowheart’s hand in hers, pressing it to her lips, kissing it gently.
“But you don’t have to handle things all on your own,” Sabrina says. “I’m here. Your parents live right next door. I’m sure if you’re curious, your father might have answers about your friend.”
Her parents. Right. She doesn’t know why, but even after a year and a half, she still feels awkward talking to her parents.
“You’re probably right,” Shadowheart sighs. “This is going to sound silly, but even after all of this time I still feel a bit uneasy talking with them. They still feel like strangers.”
“Considering all you’ve been through,” Sabrina says. “A year and a half isn’t much of a long time. If we’re going to get technical, you’ve only been around them for a year considering our six months worth of travels. If it makes it easier, I could be there when you ask him?”
Shadowheart immediately shakes her head. “No,” she says. “This is something I have to do on my own. But thank you.”
“Of course,” Sabrina says.
______________________________________________________________________________
It’s mid afternoon when Shadowheart pays her parents a visit the next day. Rain is pouring, the sky darkening as she practically barrels into their home, her cloak soaking up most of the water. Her father rushes into the foyer, surprise etched onto his face due to the manner Shadowheart has barged into their home.
“I apologize,” she begins to say. “It’s raining.”
She unclasps her cloak, her father offering to hang it on their coat rack during her visit.
“No worries, Je-Shadowheart,” Arnell says, his near slip-up while trying his best to remember to use her preferred name not going unnoticed. “Have you come to visit?”
Arnell Hallowleaf appears genuinely elated, with a hint of hopefulness. Embarrassment creeps onto Shadowheart’s cheeks for her uneasiness. He’s your father, Shadowheart. Pretend he’s Sabrina if it makes you feel better.
She nods, her face softening, eyes looking past him with a sense of vulnerability.
“I-” she says. “I had a rough night last night, actually.”
Arnell gives her an empathetic gaze. “Oh,” he says. “Would you like to talk about it, darling?”
Shadowheart is surprised by how at ease she suddenly feels, the natural way she smiles in relief. “Yes,” she says. “I would.”
He leads her into their living room, where Emmeline is sitting on one of the armchairs reading.
“Jenevelle!” the elderly woman says hastily with a smile, without thinking. Eventually, however, she realizes her mistake. “Oh, I’m so very sorry, dear. I know your name is Shadowheart.”
Don’t take it personally, Shadowheart tells herself. She doesn’t mean it.
She forces a smile. “It’s alright,” she says. “I know you’re trying.”
Shadowheart dreads the day when Emmeline forgets her chosen name completely. Or worse, Jenevelle’s entire existence at all. She tries to erase those thoughts from her mind as she sits on her parent’s sofa, her father claiming the unoccupied armchair.
Arnell waits for her to speak.
“So,” she says. “My memories…I never considered there were some I’d naturally forgotten without Shar taking them away. Last night, I dreamt of my childhood. I was with another little girl with red hair. She…she was elven.”
“Ah,” Arnell says. “Ada. She was our neighbor’s child.”
“I remember her name,” Shadowheart clarifies. “Not much else.”
“You were best friends, my dear,” Emmeline answers. “Always playing at our home, or hers. Most of the time you two would play outside.”
Shadowheart feels tears pool in her eyes. “Why?” she asks. “Why don’t I remember her?”
Arnell rises from his seat, joining Shadowheart on the sofa, pulling her into a soothing hug.
“I’m sure you will in time, darling,” he says, pulling himself back but still sitting very close to her. “I still have some Selûnite contacts. I could reach out and see if anyone knows what became of her if you would like?”
Shadowheart considers this for a moment, but then declines. “I think that might be too overwhelming at the moment,” she says. “But perhaps another time?”
“I understand,” Arnell says.
Their conversation shifts from Ada to various topics, such as the dreary weather, Shadowheart’s plans for their farm, even gossip from Baldur’s Gate. Her parents invite her and Sabrina for dinner and…she happily accepts? A year and a half ago she would’ve declined, feeling uneasy at the least, but mostly unwelcome. Jenevelle was their daughter, after all. Now, she could safely say that they were Shadowheart’s parents, something she never before thought possible.
She returns to Sabrina, beaming with positive energy, immediately embracing the blonde as she walks through their door.
“Things went well, I hope?” Sabrina asks.
Shadowheart rests her hands on Sabrina’s shoulders, looking into green pools as she smiles.
“More than I could’ve ever imagined,” she answers.