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Karlach’s dull mood was palpable, even without their tadpole tenants. Attempting to rid the air of awkward tension, Wyll immediately swooped in to mediate, thanking Dammon for his assistance, then Shadowheart grabbed Karlach by the arm to usher her inside the inn for drinks. At any other time, she might have shouted a gleeful proposition for a drinking contest, but her inner turmoil and grief clawed deep into her soul. She’d still accept the drink—the many drinks, if she was correctly reading the alarmed facial expressions her friends were giving each other.
She squeezed Shadowheart’s hand as they all entered the inn. She relaxed, albeit only slightly, as the inn’s cozy nature invited them further inside. Her heart warmed with joy again as the patrons of the inn came to greet the newcomers. She was glad to see familiar faces belonging to the tieflings who had made it safely thus far. She couldn’t help but to corral the kids into a strong hug, sweeping them from the ground to spin them. They all screamed with delight, while onlookers laughed. It was silly, and it felt damn good.
She spent some time chattering with the children, then with the adults who eagerly swapped stories with her. Karlach reveled in how familiar everybody was with her. There were hands shaking hers, good-natured shoulders knocking into her arm, and all the kids were adorably asking for more hugs. Hugs! How long had it been since she last had a hug?
After swinging the kids about for a while, the bards settled on a set of rowdy, celebratory tunes for the night. All around her were people eager to sway and stomp to the rhythm. A few people who knew the songs answered to the bards’ call and response. All the shouts and cheers put a bright, big smile on her face. She stumbled her way through twists and turns, moving along with the crowd and switching partners. Within the whirlwind of the dance, she thought she saw flashes of Shadowheart and Astarion, no doubt having been persuaded by Wyll to join in the fun. She tipped back her head and cackled. But her head had bumped into someone else’s and as she turned to apologize for the damage, a familiar rumble of laughter and soft eyes greeted her.
“Dammon!” Karlach yelled. Dammon tipped his head, acknowledging her, before taking her hand and assisting her through the next song. It was complicated and chaotic. They flung about as Dammon did his best to neatly avoid the other pairs careening throughout the floor. It was absolutely impressive how Dammon was able to stay so composed leading them through the steps; she didn’t have to put in effort into thinking what foot went where or when to raise her arms. It was easy and comforting; placing her trust with Dammon was easily the best choice she had made since escaping the Hells. Her smile dimmed thinking about the Hells but—
“Come with me.” Dammon’s lips were suddenly there, pressed hot against her ear, though they were quick to pull away as he looked to her for an answer. Her excitement returned as she giddily nodded and squeezed his hand, following him outside to his forge. She stood back, letting Dammon tidy up the space. When he was done, he gestured for them to sit and set down some simple cups.
It really had been far too long since she last felt a burn unrelated to the engine in her chest. The alcohol Dammon shared brought tears to her eyes. She greedily drank, relieved to finally taste something other than the bitter wines her party had scavenged throughout their travels in Faerûn. Dammon noticed and chuckled, raising his own cup in a toast before taking a hearty sip for himself. The tieflings sighed, enjoying the unique warmth brought on by sharing drink and company. They enjoyed the sounds of laughter and cheerful music echoing from the inn. It was so peaceful.
Dammon motioned to another carafe perched by his hands. “It’s all yours.”
“Are you sure? I spent so long on the road wishing for a drink like this.”
“Take it, Karlach. Another gift from me, since… Well, I didn’t exactly give you the good news you were hoping for.” Dammon frowned as he slid the carafe into Karlach’s hesitant hands. She immediately protested.
“Hey! Hey, it’s fine. That’s just— Dammon, I don’t blame you at all. I just,” Karlach stuttered, emotions bubbling over again, “need to accept what will happen.” She looked at the ground, rough fingers fidgeting on the handle of the carafe. Her shoulders tensed as she imbibed in one long gulp, desperate to think about anything else. She lowered the carafe as Dammon sucked in a sharp breath.
“Karlach… Have you thought about it? Will you return? To Avernus?”
There was only the unnatural silence of the Shadow-Cursed Lands for several heartbeats. Dammon worriedly watched as bitter rage thundered across Karlach’s face. He saw that even her chest dared to burn brightly once more. Steeling his resolve, Dammon reached out his hand and touched Karlach’s tense fist with tender care. Peering into her molten eyes, he felt as if his own heart may break into pieces, melt, and be forged into an unsalvageable mess. Her glare was the same glare he had seen many times before: that expression had long become part of the soldier’s uniform in the Hells. It was then he remembered how much pain Karlach carried, beyond the scars and broken horn. He could not do anything, not even to apologize, as Karlach’s voice rumbled with fury.
“No! I can’t go back. No. No, never. Not when I’m almost home. Not when I can breathe fresh air again, not when I can look around and see life again—colorful, breathing life, Dammon! I…” Karlach floundered helplessly then physically deflated. Energy seemed to drain right out of her system as her shoulders drooped and her entire weight sagged. “Dammon, can you understand how good it is to be able to touch all this life again? Every time I burned something or someone with my touch, I cursed Zariel. I can’t give this up. I can’t be her expendable little pet again. Fuck Zariel!”
“Fuck Zariel.” Dammon agreed, clenching his jaw. Karlach’s grief bled into his own, yet he did not want to give in to the feeling. Not yet. Not when he still had hope. He leaned closer until their sides touched. In other circumstances he would be glad for the contact, for the way Karlach leaned into him for even a shred of comfort. All he could feel was the painful squeeze of his heart beating in sympathy for his beloved friend. “You know, I hate the idea of you returning to Avernus.”
Karlach grunted, sad and helpless.
“I wish there was more I could do. I’m sorry that I can’t fix this. I want you to stay, Karlach. But…” Dammon swallowed, feeling sick. “I don’t want you to die. I want you to live, to survive! You are an incredible person. I am inspired by you. You give me hope that suffering is only temporary. I want to see you live. I want to be there, at your side to make sure you do.”
Karlach was stunned. Dammon’s gaze was desperate, his hand gripping hers fiercely. She had known him as someone honest, but this level of earnest and raw vulnerability set a blaze in her heart.
Fuck it. Karlach cried, “I don’t want to leave you either!”
Dammon gaped at her, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks and ears. He was rendered so surprised by her outburst, he wondered if he even heard her correctly. His lips opened and closed, totally disarmed by Karlach's outburst.
“You’re a good guy! A great one! You’ve shown me such kindness and— And it’s you who’s given me a lot of hope. I haven’t had that in so long, not since I was sold to Avernus. You mean,” Karlach choked, “so much to me. Really, you do. So it’s not your fault that you can’t fix this engine of mine.”
Dammon frowned, wanting to disagree. She rattled on, squeezing his hand. Her heart stuttered when he squeezed back, an adorable pout on his face.
“Please Dammon! I don’t and I won’t blame you for this. For this awful situation. Look, it’s… Well, it’s neither of our faults.” Karlach huffed, frustratedly gathering her thoughts. Her frustrations ceased, however, once Dammon pulled her in for a hug.
There was a pause as their argument rolled to a stop. They sat together, legs and arms touching, a fact that was distracting to Karlach. She knew he was strong given the work he proudly does, but it was easy to forget that with his gentle demeanor. Now though, she studied curiously at toned muscles and the many scars littering the blacksmith’s arms. The scars were not unlike her own: there were dark patches here and rough ribbons of flesh there. Proof that he was a survivor too. When her eyes made their way back to Dammon’s face, he was already grinning wide at her. She giggled.
“What’s that look for?”
“What look?”
“You look happy.”
“I’ve been happy since you arrived at the inn. It really is such a relief to see you again, Karlach.” Dammon brought her hand to a spot on his chest right above his heart. His expression brightened further as their fingers threaded between each other automatically, almost naturally. He raised his brow and continued speaking. “Just to be clear, I am in love with you. Romantically.”
“And I love you! Romantically!”
Laughing deeply and without inhibition, they knocked into one another only to set off another round of infectious joy. When they calmed themselves, their hands still hadn't let go. It was comfortable. It felt right.
Karlach exclaimed, “Oh hey! I don’t hear anyone in the inn.”
“Huh, I guess it is rather late. Are you…?” Dammon motioned to the inn where her friends were no doubt getting proper rest.
“I want to stay with you, if that’s alright?”
“More than.” Karlach spied a flush on Dammon’s face. “If you’re alright squeezing onto the same bed.”
Karlach could tease him, but she still felt vulnerable from their earlier conversation. She answered honestly, “That’s fine. I want to talk with you some more.”
There was another warm, gentle squeeze from Dammon’s hand again, then he led the way to where he slept. There was indeed one simple bed in the room, accompanied by other understated pieces of wooden furniture. Small stacks of paper waited on the table, perhaps countless designs yet to be made. Karlach wished for Dammon to make whatever he wanted at Baldur’s Gate. He deserved that much, after so much suffering.
The pair made themselves comfortable in the bed, foregoing the sheets in favor of the cozy warmth they exchanged between themselves. They shuffled around a bit before settling on their sides facing each other, arms wrapped around the other and chest to chest. Karlach attentively listened to Dammon breathe and felt the stubborn beating of his heart. He lazily traced shapes onto her back. Fighting against her sleepiness, she spoke again in hushed tones.
“So what’s the plan now?”
“Well, we still need to find the rest of us from the grove. You spoke to Jaheira?” At Karlach’s nod, he continued. “She thinks Moonrise Towers is where they will be. This Ketheric Thorm seems like an immensely powerful man.”
“We’ll rescue the other tieflings. I promise.”
“Promise me that you stay safe too. I worry about what the Absolute is capable of.” Karlach felt cool air touch her face as Dammon sighed, kissing her forehead. His lips remained close enough for her to feel them move when he spoke. “How about… Let’s talk about something more cheerful. We get to Baldur’s Gate. What is the first thing you want to do?”
“We should go on a date!”
“Yeah? Where?”
“What do you like to eat? There’s this restaurant I remember I’ve always wanted to try. You could get a table with a great view of the sea.”
“That sounds perfect actually. I’d bring you flowers, one giant bouquet just for you.”
“Aww.” Karlach couldn’t help but hug Dammon closer and unleashed a flurry of kisses on his face. She was rewarded by puffs of air from Dammon’s laughter.
“And! When we finish our meals, I’d like to pull you from your seat so that we can dance.”
“Just like tonight?”
“Just like tonight.”
“What if there’s no dance floor? Zero space for us?”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to take our party to the streets.”
Karlach could hardly contain her glee as their lips touched again, a playful kiss then a tentative one. She wanted to keep Dammon. She’s loved before of course, but this tentative promise to stay by each other’s side was entirely novel. Despite her worst fears culminating because of the engine in her chest, she lacked any fear that her budding relationship was doomed. Her head became more fuzzy with each kiss, so sweet and laden with promise. Being close to Dammon bolstered her courage; her spirit had never felt so strong. As Dammon held her, she drifted off into her dreams. Numerous thoughts swam in her head.
I should keep him. I should stay. I should fight.