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Sarevok had seen right through her deception and Baltana wondered what it was about her countenance that had given away her lie. Had it been the hesitation to answer? Perhaps it was the slight tremble in her voice or the sweat on her brow as he and his Murder Tribunal stared at her standing before them. Or, maybe, he’d always planned to attack her. He was one of Bhaal’s followers, was he not? One of great renowned who’s legend still echoed down dark alleys and spilled from drunkards lips. She knew what had led to this though - to a fight turned wretchedly bloody. Her fear had provoked this and the irony of her fear's manifestation was not lost on her as she stood, trembling and weak, before Sarevok’s judgment.
Halsin was at the center of it. She’d wanted, desperately, to leave him at camp but he’d insisted that he come and if she left him he’d follow anyway. Reluctantly, Baltana gave into his demands and conceded to his desire, all while anxiety about this encounter bubbled beneath her skin. The fear of losing him in this fight had manifested and she wept to know that this was their last chapter together in life. Sarevok and his hellish companions had removed Gale and Shadowheart and now it was she and Halsin on their last leg facing the demon. Only Sarevok remained but Baltana could barely stand, her sword-arm dangled uselessly, and a grievous wound in her side bled profusely. If the Bhaalspawn did not end her - the wounds she had suffered would.
Pulling herself upward she leveled her gaze on Sarevok and adjusted the grip of her sword. If she was to die here she’d at least die fighting. A grin crossed her opponents mouth as he too readied himself for the final blow. Then his eyes flicked to something behind her but she’d not be fooled by the likes of him - until she heard Halsin’s baritone voice wash over her and the glow of a spell illuminate the air.
“Ad victum mortalium,” he rasped and Baltana whipped around to look at him, panic rising within her as she registered the spoken incantation. He’d betrayed her and she felt the pain of his treachery within her chest as keenly as she felt the mangled muscle of her shoulder. Feeling the spell weigh on her body, pulling her down, she strained against it - furious with him. Halsin slipped his arms under hers as the heavy veil of the spell began to take over. He whispered something to her through a split lip as she looked up at him. Her stomach twisted to see his handsome features beaten to near indistinction. Whatever it had been that he’d said, she couldn’t comprehend it. She fought to speak, to curse him for what he was doing but her tongue was thick and her mind dumb as Feign Death stole her into darkness.
--
Baltana woke with a scream. The sound tearing from her throat like a battle cry as she scrambled to her feet ready to fight. She sucked in lungfuls of the fetid air and swung her head around seeking out the Bhaalspawn that had cut down her friends. When she saw him she stilled, held her breath, and struggled to make sense of what she was seeing. Seravok was dead. His headless corpse lay sprawled on the ground and, several feet away, Baltana spied his missing crown. It wasn’t a clean cut and Seravok’s face bore signs of tooth and claw marks. A bear, she thought, then her stomach twisted violently. Whipping around she frantically looked for the large wood elf she knew to be responsible for Seravok’s demise.
“Halsin?” she called, stumbling forward toward the slain Bhaalspawn. Silence answered her back. “Halsin?” her heart hammered in her chest, constricting her ribs, making it hard to breathe. “Halsin!” she cried when, again, he did not answer. Tears stung her eyes as she limped forward searching the chamber for any sign of him. Please, she begged Eilistraee or any deity that would listen to her, let him be alright. She could not lose another. Not again. Not when she’d finally felt herself healing after the death of her husband, Filrae, after a century of pain. She did not think she was strong enough to endure another blow. If Halsin died then she would bury herself shortly thereafter. Baltana thought of the two scrolls of Revivify in her bag. She would have to choose who lived and who died and she hated that she knew who she would save. Gale and Shadowheart had just begun life. Whereas she and Halsin were ancient by comparison. It was only right that the wizard and cleric continue.
Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention and she froze, uncertain of its origin. As her eyes focused, however, she recognized the figure and Baltana ran the short distance to them - heedless of the pain that lanced through her with each step. She knelt beside Halsin and was startled to find that he was coherent. His bright golden eyes bore into her as he curled his fingers into the weeping wound at his ribs. Then she heard it, the rattle in his breath. He was drowning. “I am here for you,” she whispered as she reached inside of herself for Lay on Hands then placed a hand over his. His blood was warm against her palm and she tried not to think about how much he’d lost.
Cool light spread across him, stitching together his broken parts and restoring a fraction of his vitality. He inhaled a deep, clear, breath and exhaled slowly. Some of the tension she’d held in her jaw relaxed before it drew tight again. Halsin would not die but they were far from danger. They needed to leave but before that she needed to revive her fallen party with their last two scrolls of Revivify. The only two that she knew of left in all of Baldur’s Gate.
“Tana,” Halsin exhaled her name and groaned as he struggled to sit upright. Baltana reached to help him with her good arm. “I-”
“Unless what’s about to come out of your mouth is a spell for Revivify or an explanation for Feign Death. Spare yourself the energy,” she said, the words sharper than she meant them. Her panic had melted into a strange sort of anger that swirled with guilt in a queasy cocktail of emotions.
“I had my reasons,” he grunted as he struggled to his feet. Baltana looked up at him and when he offered both of his hands to her she, reluctantly, took one. He pulled her to her feet and she faltered when the room tilted strangely. Halsin held her steady with a hand on one shoulder and the other placed carefully at her hip, avoiding her right arm.
“I could have helped you kill Seravok,” she said, and though their builds rivaled one another's she felt small under his hard stare.
“No, you couldn’t. You’re a beast when you fight and you forget yourself. You forget that you’re more than a paladin, Baltana,” he said, bringing up the hand from her waist to brush back strands of hair then cup her cheek. “I care about you,” his words choked her and she pulled her mouth tight against the growing knot she felt in her throat. Halsin dropped his hand from her cheek and leaned forward to touch their foreheads together - a comforting and familiar touch. Baltana relaxed into it, allowing herself a moment of reprieve until she felt him take her right arm into both of his hands. Her heart rate jumped and she bit her tongue. “Hold your breath,” he whispered and she drew in a lung full of putrid air. A pop and searing pain followed and she bit her bottom lip until it nearly bled.
“Gods dammit,” she cursed as Halsin pulled her tight against him. She pressed her face against his shoulder groaning as the balmy sensation of Healing Word washed over her. The fierce pain in her shoulder eased a fraction as did the discomfort from the wound in her side.
“Better?” he asked against her ear, raising gooseflesh along her arms and scalp. She didn’t articulate a response, only nodded her head, and closed her burning eyes for a moment.
“How did you know it was dislocated,” she asked after some time.
“I saw it happen and you switched your swordhand,” he said, holding her by the waist and supporting her as best he was able to while she wore her heavy armor. It should have been no surprise to her that Halsin watched her so closely. Over the last few months he’d become her shadow in battle as either elf or beast. It was reassuring and bolstering to have him there and she could not have asked for a better partner - even if he did things she occasionally disagreed with. Slowly Baltana extricated herself from Halsin’s embrace and looked at him. He seemed reluctant to release her completely as his hand lingered on her forearm.
“I’m glad you took notice. However,” she frowned, “You and I will talk later about the spell. For now,” Baltana looked behind her at their fallen companions. “We should mind the others,” and with that both elves set about reviving their fallen friends.
The walk back to the Elf Song felt like a funeral procession. No one spoke and even when they’d looted Seravok and his lackeys - hardly a word passed between any of them. Not even when they released Valeria.
Once back in their room on the second floor of the inn the others greeted them. Wyll ordered food from the kitchen while Jahira helped Baltana shed her outer layer of gear. Minsc and Boo peppered them with questions and filled in the gaps about his own exploits in battle while handing out large vials of healing potions. Karlach helped Shadowheart with her armor and Astarion drew the first of many baths. By the time dinner arrived the active party was stripped of their armor - save for Gale, who wore only a robe to begin with. Shadowheart washed first while the others ate and, slowly, Gale, Halsin, and Baltana bathed. Each tub of water was left looking and smelling like a butcher's shop but, slowly, the stench of battle was replaced with the light fragrance of jasmine and the heady aroma of lavender.
Baltana sat on the edge of her bed, partitioned away from the others by a foldable screen, running a brush through her long silvery hair. It was quiet now. Gale and Shadowheart had fallen asleep hours ago and the other members of her group had settled into their beds. Banter from the tavern below was muffled and over the quiet din of people Baltana could hear the sweet melody of a violin being played. Exhaustion settled heavy on her shoulders and, despite wanting to talk to Halsin about what he’d done before, she did not want to disturb him. The conversation could wait and now, as she sat thinking about it, she wondered if it was a conversation worth starting again. He was right, she did act like a beast in battle, and that often meant ignoring her own body to achieve a goal. In truth maybe she owed him an apology. She’d been careless with her life and then angry with him for doing the same. A soft knock on the thin screen divider pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see Halsin poke his head around the wooden partition.
“May I come in?” he asked, a light hearted smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Arch Druids only,” Baltana said as she pulled the brush through the length of her hair suppressing a grin. Halsin’s eyes followed the motion. He cleared his throat.
“Well then. I believe I meet the qualifications to pass such a barrier,” he announced, standing upright, and sauntering over to sit next to her on the bed. The mattress gave under his weight, pulling Baltana in close to him, and their shoulders pressed together. She stopped brushing her hair and leaned to place the brush on the ground with her other things. “You had something you wanted to speak with me about,” he prompted and she looked up at him. It was one of the few times she really did. His torso was taller than hers.
“Yes,” she said, turning toward him and straightening the thin chemise she wore. “I am a hypocrite and I am sorry,” she confessed. The large wood-elf had the good grace to look shocked.
“I admit,” Halsin began, “I thought I was about to receive a verbal lashing,” he chuckled, the sound tickling her ears and making her chest tighten. He slipped his hands into hers. They were warm and calloused but the touch brought her comfort. Once, weeks ago, this level of intimacy would have frightened her. On some level it still did and roused in her a myriad of other conflicting emotions. Halsin wandered as the bear did and she feared he would leave her and forget her and, as such, she barred herself from those feelings though they stirred restlessly behind the iron gate of her heart.
“Would you prefer I lash you?” she asked with a grin, pulling herself out of her painful thoughts. Halsin brushed his thumb over the ridge of her knuckles.
“Perhaps, it might make me feel less guilty for acting as I did before,” Halsin confessed and Baltana dropped her eyes to their held hands.
“I fear the feeling is mutual. I was angry with you for having cast the spell, very angry in fact,” she exhaled and tightened her grip on Halsin’s fingers. “I cannot describe how I felt. Angry, frustrated, betrayed-”
“Afraid,” she looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and the air between them crackled with energy.
“Yes, and I want to hold onto that angry feeling but I don’t feel like I can or should because, if our roles had been reversed, I’d have done the same,” she brought one of his hands up and pressed a kiss against his knuckles before holding it against her chest.
“Please, swear to me that you’ll not act so senselessly again,” she implored and Halsin was quiet. He spread his hand out over her heart, the warmth of his palm hot against her skin.
“I cannot,” he said, freeing his other hand to bring up and cup her cheek. Baltana stared at him, bewildered and wounded by his answer.
“What?” her heart raced and, of the time she’d known the wood elf, this was the first time he’d ever denied her. He’d spoiled her with endless compliance though he had no reason to.
“You ask the impossible of me. I cannot relinquish my recklessness when you are the very reason for it,” his statement struck her squarely in the chest, over where his palm burned her skin through the thin fabric of her chemise. Guilt and confusion swirled in the tadpole infected mire of her brain and she struggled to understand him. She understood her reasons for heedlessness. Because, whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, she was hopelessly in love with him. Love could make you do horrendously foolish things, no matter the age, and she was no exception.
Halsin cupped her face ever closer. Their position forced her to turn into him, hiking up the hem of her linen nightshirt high on her thigh. His knee slotted between hers. He was impossibly close now and she could smell the mint and clove on his breath mingling with the faint aroma of hyacinths in his loose hair. She placed her hands on his thighs, curling her fingers into the soft fabric of his trousers, anchoring herself in the moment.
“Why do I make you reckless?” she asked, the query barely a whisper as she looked up from the curve of his mouth to the intensity of his golden eyes. He snared her there, his expression open, tender, and soul-achingly vulnerable.
“Because I’m in love with you,” he said, she could hear the tightness in his throat, and she could not fathom the strength needed to speak those words. Words that she had harbored far too long but feared more than the tadpole, more than death. Her heart swelled, tears flooded her eyes, because she could not articulate the strange tide of love, fear, elation, and pain that washed over her. He would hurt her, she knew it, because he would leave one day, as the bear, and there was nothing she’d be able to do to prevent it.
“Halsin I-” she began, blinking through her misty vision.
“If you do not feel the same way I would understa-”
“No, no,” Baltana leaned earnestly toward him. A shiver of anxiety coursed through her and she felt her face flush. “I feel the same,” she confessed, and felt the tension she’d harbored in her chest for months unspool. It was a dizzying sensation that tangled with the peculiar desire to laugh and cry in the same instant.
“The same?” Halsin questioned, brushing a thumb under the tender flesh of her eye.
“Yes, the same,” she exhaled and he dipped his head nearer to hers. The anticipation of a kiss ached on her lips but he denied her, kept her bated, and met her eyes with an intensity that made her wonder if he could see her thoughts, her soul, and the conflict therein. Then, he looked to her mouth, asking without speaking to close the fragile space between them. Baltana leaned forward and Halsin met her half-way.
His kiss was more than she could have ever anticipated. The sweetness of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the tenderness in which he held her made her heart swell. He was kind in ways that she had not anticipated and she found herself at his mercy. She surrendered to him and laid bare all of who she was - the aching pain in her chest, the frayed edges of her nerves, and the anxiety that addled her mind. It evaporated under his attention. His hands slipped down from her cheek - one coming to rest at her neck and the other at her waist. He pulled her in, angling her head back, filling her every sense, until it was him and only him she knew. Nothing existed outside of this moment - there was no tadpole, no Absolute, no looming Elder Brain threat. It was just him and his soft breath against her cheek, the warmth of his skin against hers, and the unspoken blessing of something quiet shared between them.
He pulled away sooner than she would have liked and pressed kisses along her jaw, down the length of her neck, and the expanse of her shoulder. Each touch of his lips was deliberate, meaningful, and intentional. Whispers of a prayer spoken in a tongue she didn’t understand warmed her skin and nameless emotions tangled themselves in her throat. She wanted to weep though she couldn’t comprehend why - perhaps it was the stress of all she’d endured and still had to endure that choked her. She felt as though she might shatter under the inexplicable and incomprehensible pressure of every weightless moment that passed. Then Halsin wrapped his arms around her fully and pulled her closer, he gathered her bulk into his lap and she was forced to hitch one thick thigh around his to prevent herself from sliding off the bed. She wrapped her arms around his torso and when he pressed his face into the curve of her neck and shoulder she felt the dampness of tears track along her skin. The fragile hold she had on her own remorse crumbled and she wept alongside him.
Drained of sorrow and, despite the soreness that rimmed her eyes, Baltana felt a fraction better if not more wary than she’d ever been before. Halsin had not moved and she sat there, wrapped in the strength of his arms, drawing circles on his back as he gathered himself. Then, slowly, he pulled back and she looked up at him. In the dim light of the Elf Song’s warm lanterns she could see the red around his eyes and the fatigue that darkened his features. He smiled despite it and she took his face into her hands and ran her thumbs over the apples of his cheeks. “I love you,” she whispered, and Halsin’s gaze sharpened. It lost the hazy edge of exhaustion and he knotted his fingers into the thin fabric of chemise. She dropped her hands to his chest, spread her fingers over the expanse of his strength, and steadied herself.
“No words have ever sounded so sweet,” he said, and pressed a kiss against her forehead, then her temple, her nose, and finally, a fleeting one, on her half-parted lips. Her heart raced and she felt her cheeks flush.
“How long would you have me repeat them?” she asked, swallowing the ball of anxiety that coiled in her throat.
“For as long as you want to utter them and to whomever. I would not want to bar those around us from knowing your-” she placed a finger firmly over his lips.
“No, Halsin,” she said, having heard this line of thought before - uttered to Astarion and their fellow companions after too much wine. “I would deny others. I want only you. I’ve known the passion of another and have no desire to sample those around me. It is you I want to know and no one else,” she confessed, then her heart twisted painfully in her chest. “However, I understand the nature of the bear, and that is as much a part of you as breathing. I only ask, that if you should one day feel the desire to wander again that you would tell me you’re leaving. I don’t think I could handle not knowing if you’d return,” giving voice to her thoughts since learning of his nature was far more painful than she anticipated. Halsin watched her. His eyes bore into her and the emotion written across his brow was indiscernible. He reached up and pulled her hand away from his mouth and laced their fingers together.
“I do not think it is possible for me to leave you,” he began, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I love you more than I have words to express. Which, admittedly, are few,” he quipped, attempting to break the tension. Baltana offered him a small smile though her heart beat wildly in her chest. “Understand that no others temp me as you do, Baltana. I seek only your company, your companionship, and will do so for as long as you will have me,” he brought her hand up and kissed her knuckles.
“You would stay with me?” her stupor spilled out before she could catch it. Halsin smiled and nodded.
“Yes, for as long as you desire,” he kissed her knuckles again.
“That may be a long time,” Baltana whispered.
“Then let it be so,” he said, lowering her hand. Baltana met his eyes and felt a mix of overwhelming joy and apprehension. She wondered if the bear he’d claimed for so long could be so easily tamed. Only time would tell her and as she opened her mouth to speak again - the chime of a distant bell tolled, announcing the hour. An hour past midnight. Halsin turned his head to look at the shuttered window as if he did not believe the declaration.
“We should sleep,” Baltana suggested, and Halsin looked back at her, then to the bed. It was all she could do not to laugh at how bereft he appeared - as though she’d scolded him. “This bed will not fit a woodelf of your size or a drow of near equal build,” she said looking down at herself to emphasize her point. Halsin looked as though he might argue but he untangled himself from her and stood, without a word. Then, before she could register exactly what he was doing he’d wildshaped into a cat. A fluffy orange tabby blinked up at her from the floor - his golden eyes distinctly that of her beloved.
“Is this an acceptable compromise?” he asked, his voice warped by the spell Speak with Animals that Baltana cast every morning. She considered him, then patted the bed.
“Yes, it is,” she said, slipping back onto the mattress as Halsin leapt up onto the bed with her. His paws, she noticed, were white and appeared to have socks on them. Laying down she pulled the blankets over herself and rested her head into the plushness of the pillow. The weight of the day pulled on her and she glanced over at the cat. Halsin strode up toward her head and Baltana reached up to stroke his silky fur. “You’re very soft,” she grinned. Halsin arched his back, flicking his tail, in a very cat-like manner as she pet him. Baltana lifted him up and he trilled with the unexpected movement - she placed him on her chest and sleepy scratched under chin.
“You told me once you liked fluffy cats,” Halsin chuckled as laid down in the space between her breasts.
“I do,” she hummed and closed her heavy eyes, a hand resting on one of Halsin’s soft paws. He began to purr - the gentle rumble of it made her smile.
“Sleep, I’ll be here in the morning,” he said, but she recalled something, just as sleep began to pull her under.
“Halsin,” she whispered, not bothering to open her eyes.
“Yes,” he purred.
“What was it that you whispered after you cast the spell on me,” she asked, voice slow with the fight to stay awake.
“That I loved you,” he said, and she pried her eyes open to stare at him.
“Because you thought Sarevok would kill you,” she exhaled and Halsin didn’t answer immediately. Then he nodded as he curled his tail alongside his body.
“Yes, but I’m glad I had the chance to make sure you heard it,” he said and Baltana sighed and despite her best effort could not keep her eyes open.
“I’m glad too,” she said, then allowed herself to drift off while Halsin purred - a welcome weight on her chest.