Work Text:
Taking up work in Baldur’s Gate wasn’t something you had set out to do. You had intentionally saved up from your work escorting groups through the old forests of the Dalelands and hadn’t planned to stay here more than a year anyway. The full plan was to see the city for the first time in your life, meet up with your old friend when her expedition boat docked and head back home together.
So, it was a surprise when on a dreary overcast day a hooded lady approached you to ask for a pair of hired “eyes”. She wanted you to be a lookout for a transaction she had to make. Someone had recommended you after you safely escorted them through a den of owlbears unscathed, how they knew you were here in Baldur’s Gate, however, was unclear. You had almost declined her honestly, this was supposed to be a time in your life of exploration and fun. At 600 years of age, all you could see was the stress and hassle of a job you had no interest in taking. Dealing with annoying customers and haggling over prices had never been something you looked forward to. That was until she pulled out a large bag of coins and promised double at the end.
Fine. As always, money talks.
The extra could buy you new materials to craft a set of armor and a bow. You didn’t trust the items made in the city but the materials were quite nice. You had seen reams of leather and elven fabric from the halls of the Fae lands, things that had long since left the reaches of Faerun that you inhabited.
The woman was secretive and kept her hood well above her face but you could hear the underelf accent on her voice and see the vibrant hue of her skin that peeked out from her wrists. You had no problem working with drow, especially beautiful ones such as her. It was embarrassing but even in the brief interaction something about her drew you in. She gave you a small letter with instructions on what to wear, when to arrive and where to go. Her handwriting was neat, without frills or extra curls on the letters and the ink she used seemed to be darker than the night itself. It suit her seriousness and the shaded manner of her being. If you did not know her, the letter was completely ordinary with nothing that could draw in the average person. You kept the letter on you though, which was poor form for a hired hand but the smell of her perfume that lifted off of it enticed you in a way. There was something about it that seemed so familiar you just couldn’t for the life of you remember what.
The day of the job you set up lookout on a rooftop overlooking a small alley. You had two rats on the lower level to tail anyone who ran. It was overkill, the hooded lady came to the meet alone and met with a well dressed orc man. They exchanged items in brown paper and then both turned to leave. He did what you expected, turned two more corners then doubled back to follow her. You followed him over the tops of the red clay shingle roofs deep into the city until she turned into what seemed to be just a solid wall and disappeared. He met a dead end there, and looked around wildly for an answer. Same, orc man, same. You thought as you looked for the entrance she had entered. The corner where she had disappeared was so dark though, that it would have been impossible to tell even if there was a door.
You watched him curiously as he began to set up outside the building, maybe to wait her out, when a tiny black bird landed near you carrying a message. It was the same handwriting as the hooded woman and the paper smelled of her as well, you inhaled the scent and glanced at the instructions
‘Kill him.’
Of course. No one ever just wanted information. They could never be satisfied with knowing there was a threat, they had to eliminate it in the moment. You pulled tight against your bow string and sent the arrow to puncture deep into his head where he fell backwards from the force of the blow into a canal.
Easiest job you’d ever had, no clean up required.
At the 3rd floor of the building you see a flame lit and notice the outline of the hooded woman. Her shadowed shape glances out the window towards you and pulls its fingers from you to herself- beckoning? Inviting?
Very unexpected and not without danger- you killed her mark, now she kills you. It’s a classic story for mercs in your field. However, she still had to pay up for the job so you risked it, bounding over to the window and landing feather light on the sill. You slid the window open and ducked inside. Her scent again overwhelmed you and the sound of her voice was deep and powerful.
“You have done the Dark Lady’s work.”
That’s a weird way to refer to yourself, you thought, but she was also a shady hooded lady who had you killing people on the streets, so best to play along for now.
“Does the Dark Lady require anything else before I’m paid?” You made an awkward bowing motion in her direction.
“No, your money is on the table, as promised.” she said as she sat down in front of an oval mirror. You counted it and passed it along to your rat companion on the sill. He’d keep it safe in case this went south, she could still turn on you at any moment. With the money out of the way you made a motion to leave and noticed the hood of her cape fall seductively from her head.
A honey pot.
But, you couldn’t see what she had to gain, maybe she wanted this for herself. Her eyes were large and sad- as if she had not known companionship or kindness in a long time.
You made your way across the room and undid the tie keeping the cape on. She stared at you through the mirror, watching, planning, sizing you up. She was beautiful, in all the ways drow usually are with their striking features and intense stares. Yet it was as if she was marked, cursed and you knew that being with her would mark you as well. That whatever bothered her would soon be brought to bear on you.
Leave, you told yourself.
The window was open and she was not keeping you. The money was already on its way to your stash, just turn and go, you’re getting greedy, you’re getting emotional, you’re getting distracted. For once choose the easy route, for once Thalwyn, listen to your gut, just avoid the obvious trap in front of you.
It was pointless to try it seemed, your hand went out as if drawn by invisible strings, the action disconnected from your mind. You caressed her neck and brought your lips to touch her shoulder. She didn’t recoil, only brought her hand up to your face in a tender motion.
“Would the Dark Lady like my company tonight?”
She smiled into the mirror and let the softness of her voice return “She will allow you to be in mine.”
Like mist above the sea she rose and shed her dress as she skillfully took your armor off and left you bare, exposed in front of a stranger- yet every move she made, felt like a lover lost. As if you had known her your entire life. Gods above she was exceptional, and so passionate. She spoke so little but what fell from her lips were words of encouragement or action telling you where to place your mouth, to drag your hand, phrases to reward you. The night went on in ecstasy, you were one, in motion and in mind and you began to hear her in your thoughts. Her wishes and desires soaked into your heart, your skin.
You met the morning sky with her pressed against your bare breasts, your body covered in scratches and deep bite marks you barely remember getting and her muttering to her God who you’d learned was the ‘Dark Lady’. She rose quickly and scrawled words into a small piece of parchment, the thick scratch of quill to paper scraped against your ears.
“The Dark Lady requires more from you.”
It was just a name this time, nothing more. No instructions or time or location. You had ways of finding them and you used them all. Every back alley, dock, and abandoned building overturned in pursuit of your prey. And so it continued for weeks, then months, you killing whoever she wrote down, money exchanged hands and the two of you ended up in bed. She opened up to you in every physical way, caressing the love out of your bones and milking it from your heart. The time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and soon you’d have to be honest.
“I’m leaving in a week. After the explorer ship my friend is on is back.”
She didn’t flinch or look surprised just kissed you lightly on the mouth and whispered “All things come to an end”
I mean, she was right of course but you wondered if she had something more, some feeling towards you that was deeper than what she had let on up to this point, you hoped against reason anyway. It was delusional to think there was something more but cowardly not to try, you thought.
“Anything keeping you here?” You probed her lightly.
“Quite a lot actually.” She responded curtly, without the hint of a smile.
“Maybe they can deal with losing you for some time.” You tried again, an offer with no strings could make her open to you possibly.
“I doubt it.” she said and sighed softly.
That was it, she would never budge past this point in any conversation. It felt like months of timid questions and probing to just be met with one word, if you were lucky, two word responses.
She would be here when you left and the thought of her embrace would have to bring you comfort enough for years. You would have to know loss, she often said.
She brought you in for a kiss and you fell into your usual routine, you weren’t even sure of her name but your bodies melded again. Her breath hot and her voice thick with intention. She held you close on top of her and kissed the crown of your head. She whispered in her drow tongue a jumble of words that meant nothing to you.
Something about the sound of it set your skin on edge and you should have been more alert but you were in such a warm embrace you barely noticed, naive lover that you were/are when the blade sunk into your back and she gently closed your eyes with her fingertips.
The ship crashed through the air and woke you as you were catapulted from your pod. Your shoulder blade hurt and you could feel the weakening of your bow arm muscles from the injury. When you stood you saw yourself on an ilithid ship, there was a small piece of paper stuffed into your clenched fist that held a single name just like the others before it
“Shadowheart”.