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Knell is a Bhaalspawn.
Not only that, she orchestrated this entire plot of the Absolute.
All of this, nearly every single thing that has happened, happened because of her.
These are the only thoughts running rampant through Shadowheart’s mind. She can’t even really think about the fact that they’ve made a deal of peace with Gortash. No, somehow that can’t cross the threshold of things to be concerned about.
She knew something was wrong with Knell, to put it lightly. Barely a week has passed since the drow woke her in the dead of night and confessed to being persuaded to kill by a terrible, overwhelming urge to spill blood. Of course, at the time Shadowheart had been attempting to process being disowned by Shar, but that hasn’t stopped. Perhaps it makes it a bit harder to think at the moment.
She watches the woman who leads them as she powers on like the burly bastard she has always presented herself to be. Armor shining in the light of the sun, white hair glistening and blood spatters still dripping, Knell encompasses everything Shadowheart has seen her as since the day that they met on that Illithid ship. Brave. Powerful. Terrifying. When people shrink out of their way, Shadowheart can’t help but think that the main reason they do isn’t because of their swords.
Shadowheart now realizes how used to chatter she is. Usually, Karlach would be speaking a mile a minute. Perhaps Shadowheart would cut in with a comment, maybe even Astarion, and Knell would entertain whatever topic the three had come up with. Now, there is only silence. There is one time that Shadowheart attempts to whisper Knell’s name to get her attention, but the drow only sets her shoulders and quickens her pace.
She’s not just a drow anymore, though. She’s a Bhaalspawn. She was his chosen.
Shadowheart presses her lips together.
“The last time I remember her being this quiet was the first week we met,” Astarion muses.
“I would think you were talking about Karlach, but she’s never been the silent broody type,” Shadowheart responds.
He chuckles.
A moment passes. Yet another filled with this terrible weight between all of them.
“You don’t suppose this will stop any time soon, hm?” Astarion says.
Shadowheart shakes her head. “We have no way of knowing, I suppose.”
“Right,” he agrees.
A longer silence stretches out.
“Alright, this is ridiculous. Is no one going to say anything at all?”
“Silence can be a beneficial thing, Astarion,” Halsin murmurs from behind them.
“Not for them, ” Astarion insists. “Yes, discovering you’re the child of some murderous god may be a little upsetting, of course it would be, and to find out that you’re at fault for all this tadpole business-”
“You’re probably not helping,” Shadowheart supplies.
Astarion ignores her. “It doesn’t matter now! We have power on our hands, one that we should grab before it sneaks away!” He waves to Knell as if they’d forgotten she’s right in front of them, and is probably listening to the entire conversation. “We have an in! One way or another we’re going to have to find that Bhaal temple. Don’t you think having someone who potentially knows where it is is a good thing?”
“If nature intends for it to be so, her memories will be granted to her. When this will happen is left unknown for a reason,” Halsin whispers. “You forget there are a multitude of reasons for this current tension, only part of it being Knell’s heritage. If she were only a Bhaalspawn, perhaps it could be different. Perhaps it would be easier. But, she was an imperative part in this destruction of nature that the ilithds are causing, and the decimation of the lives we knew.”
“Unlike some, that is exactly why I’m grateful,” Astarion snaps. “Without her, bloodthirsty maniac or not, Karlach would be in the hells, Wyll’s soul would be signed away to a devil, you would still be archdruid, Shadowheart would still be brainwashed by her Lady , and I would still be enslaved. ”
Shadowheart holds her hand up. “Both of you, stop.” She glances at Karlach who’s brows are pinched. She watches the ground as she walks, trailing after the group. She appears to be in deep thought. “No matter what you believe that she did for you, whether it be your destruction or your retribution, she is now someone else,” Shadowheart says lowly. The wound on her hand twinges. She winces. “While I don’t necessarily… disagree that she should be punished for what she did, even if she doesn’t remember it, our lives recently have been enough.” She holds her head high, turning to look both of the elves in the eye. “We will not be forming sides. Not now. Not after everything. ”
They both nod, Halsin having the decency to appear at least a bit chastised. Shadowheart turns again, and immediately, her gaze once again snaps to the drow. She remembers how panicked the woman looked the night she tried to kill her. Knell lying in her bedroll panting, her arms tied behind her back, and sweat on her brow. If only it had been so sweet. Knell would whisper small apologies between awful, spitting tirades calling for blood and violence. By all rights, Shadowheart should have been upset. She was upset. But when Knell snapped from her stupor and all that was left was the frightful ambiance of the shadowlands, she didn’t apologize.
“ You’re allowed to hate me for this, ” she’d murmured instead.
Somehow, that killed every ounce of anger in Shadowheart’s chest. Would it still be there if she knew why Knell is like this like she does now? Shadowheart sets her shoulders and walks right up beside her partner. Just this morning, Knell was standing in front of her asking for a kiss with such a bashful expression on her face. Now she won’t even look at her.
“Knell,” Shadowheart whispers again.
Her expression twitches. “Shadowheart,” she replies, her voice gravelly.
“I need to speak with you.”
Her eye widens for just a moment. “No,” she snaps. Then, as if regretting this immediately, she shakes her head. “Sorry. I- Sorry. I just need to think.” She flexes her fingers. “I cannot count on myself to stay calm through whatever conversation you wish to have.” Her eye flicks to Shadowheart, then she looks away once again. “Stay with the others.”
Shadowheart presses her lips together. “Fine. We don’t have to talk, but I am staying right here.”
Knell hesitates, her speed slowing momentarily. “Okay,” she breathes.
The group walks in silence after this.
—
Shadowheart lies on her bedroll, staring at the top of her tent. The sounds of the shouts and clatters of the city bleed through the fabric walls. She can’t hear much else besides Karlach speaking quietly by the fire, and Wyll occasionally adding in some sort of commentary. She hasn’t been able to fall asleep. She’s been lying here for over an hour certainly, and her body has yet to settle. She covers her face with her hands, groaning unhappily, and then she rolls to her side and throws her arm over her head.
Over and over she’s been turning their situation in her mind. Not just Knell, but all of this. They must fight a vampire lord, an entire cluster of Shar followers, find Duke Ravenguard, kill Gortash, and now, somehow, fight Bhaal. Then, if they don’t die doing any of that, they need to take down the Netherbrain.
Surprisingly enough, this doesn’t help her sleep whatsoever.
She knows what her problem is, besides death looming at every turn. For every night over the last week or so, Knell has been entangled in her arms. She’s grown used to slipping into the darkness with a large bundle of warmth practically purring against her chest. She’s already tried throwing pillows into a similar formation but compared to the drow herself…
Shadowheart stands up.
She peeks out of her tent, pleased enough to see Halsin’s completely closed. She slowly treds out into the night, a chill beginning to work its way through her bones. She looks up, her eyes falling to the large barn on the edge of the camp they’ve set up in.
When they’d returned earlier that day, Knell had immediately peeled away from the group and left to be on her own. Shadowheart tried not to feel too hurt, after all, she did nearly the same thing once they left the Gauntlet. She walks closer, whispering small hello’s to Karlach and Wyll as she passes by them.
“Going to check on Knell?” Wyll asks. He motions to the upper floor of the barn. “I hope she lets you in.”
“Have you tried?”
Wyll nods. “I don’t know what happened out there with you all, I have no idea what she saw, but I want to provide my support in any way I can.”
Shadowheart turns to Karlach, her shock evident. “You didn’t tell him?”
Karlach furrows her brows. “I wouldn’t do that. I might be pissed about the whole Gortash thing, and I might have started this with a raging tirade wanting to get shitfaced and go raid his stupid castle thing-”
“-which we both agreed would be a bad idea,” Wyll interjects.
“Yes. Yeah, bad idea. Besides that, no matter how mad I am at her, I care about her.” Karlach looks into the fire for a moment. “It’s hers to tell. I guess I should be grateful she even told me at all.”
“You’re allowed to be upset,” Shadowheart assures.
“I know. I am. I really am.” Karlach sighs. She glances at the barn, then she rubs the palms of her hands over her face. “But it’s not her fault. Gods. I can’t stop worrying about her.”
“That has been exactly my point for the last hour,” Wyll smiles, gently shoving her shoulder. “I don’t need to know what happened today to know you two will be fine.”
Shadowheart places her hand on Karlach’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. In the morning, I’m sure you two will have a chance to speak.” She turns to Wyll. “Did she speak to you at all?”
He nods again. “She was very adamant that I leave. I didn’t see her, unfortunately. The entire exchange was through the door.”
Shadowheart considers this for a moment. She, once again, looks to the barn. In a window near the very top, she sees a figure shrouded in shadow staring down at them. Shadowheart tilts her head, and the figure disappears further into the structure.
“It will likely be daybreak before I return to you.” Shadowheart gives her companions one last brief smile, then she walks the rest of the way to the barn. She climbs the stairs slowly, trying to shift her weight to prevent the boards from falling out beneath her feet. At the top, she’s greeted by a small hall leading to a window—presumably the one she’d seen Knell standing in before—with a door on the wall beside it. “Knell?” she calls.
The door opens a crack. Through it, fiery eyes glimmer in the darkness awaiting her.
Shadowheart makes her way down the hall, fixing her hair as she does. “Hello, my love.” She pauses just before the threshold.
“Why did you come up here?” The drow breathes.
“To check on you,” Shadowheart answers easily. “You didn’t come to my tent, so I decided to come to you instead. Open the door. Please.”
Knell’s eyes drop to the floor for a brief moment, then she does as Shadowheart asks. She steps back, pushing the rotting wood out of the way. She’s changed out of her armor, now only clad in a cotton set of pants that have been nearly torn to shreds many times over, by the look of how many stitches there are circling the legs. Blood is smeared over her face, arms, and chest. It’s begun to dry by now, and it looks no more comfortable than it probably feels. Even still, the red contrasts the purple of her skin and collects in a way that lines her muscles.
“You look remarkably decent when you’re covered in gore,” Shadowheart smiles, stepping forward to slip into the room.
Knell’s cheeks flush. She presses her lips together to try to hide her smile, but she is unable to change the soft crease of her eyes. “So you’ve said.”
For a moment, Shadowheart can forget about the unearthed truths today has handed to them. It’s only her and this drow here. Their pasts, dually forgotten, are nothing. For now, it is like it was on the boulder all those weeks ago. The memory of that kiss they shared is sweet, and thinking back, remarkably chaste.
Shadowheart crosses the room and picks up a bucket, filling it with water with a quick spell. She pulls a conveniently placed rag from a cupboard nearby, then motions to Knell to come to her. “No matter how I like it, we should clean you up, hm?” she hums.
Knell looks away from her for the first time since she’d entered the room, grimacing when she sees her arms. “That would be wise.” She sinks to the ground, folding her hands together in her lap. She chews on her cheek, her eyebrows furrowed.
Shadowheart shuffles closer, holding up the rag. She rises onto her knees, placing a hand on Kell’s leg to steady herself as she leans forward to wipe down her arm. As soon as the rag makes contact with the drow’s skin, however, she seizes up.
Shadowheart freezes. “Are you alright?”
The woman’s eyes glisten as she looks down to where the rag touches her arm. She takes a deep breath, a shake on the edges of it, before nodding. “Please continue,” she whispers.
“If you insist,” Shadowheart lilts teasingly. She keeps an eye on her partner through the rest of the process. Slowly, her body is cleared of the worst of the blood. There were still a few places Shadowheart was unable to get, but she did become a bit distracted dropping kisses onto Knell’s skin wherever she could. Eventually, she ends up sitting nearly on Knell’s lap, her head on her shoulder as her partner's fingers gently brush through her hair. The chill that the night has brought on is much more bearable with Knell there once again. Shadowheart shivers and instinctively presses closer, smiling up at her lover when she feels her arms wrap around her and a kiss press to the top of her head.
“I’m sorry for my behavior today,” Knell whispers against her head. “I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” Shadowheart murmurs. “As am I.”
“And you are doing well. Your parents will be proud of who you’ve become alurlssrin. ”
“Thanks to you.”
Knell hums thoughtfully. “You only needed a push. The progress you’ve made has been largely of your own volition.”
Shadowheart turns to look up at her. “And you were the one who forced my eyes open.” She holds up her hand to silence the drow before she speaks again. “By the hells, I’m exhausted. Let us put off this conversation until the morning. Will you return with me to my tent?”
Knell’s expression sinks. “I… no. I’m sorry. I must stay here.”
Shadowheart wrinkles her nose. “Really? Fine, I suppose. This will suffice as long as you stay right there.”
She blinks. “I meant only myself Shadow-”
“Do you have a problem with me being here?” Shadowheart asks.
Knell goes silent. She blinks again.
Shadowheart smiles. “Good. Now, as I was saying. Don’t let go of me, and I will be fine.”
Knell’s lips curl slowly. She lies down, opening her arm to allow Shadowheart to join her—which she promptly does—then she curls around the smaller woman until their limbs are bound together.
“Wake me if you need anything,” Shadowheart whispers earnestly. “And I… when I say anything, I do mean it.”
Knell seems to choke on a soft laugh. “And you, me.”
—-
Shadowheart isn’t quite sure what woke her, but the lack of drow next to her gives her an idea. Before they fell asleep, Knell had gotten up to retrieve some form of padding for them to lie on. At first, Shadowheart thinks she might be doing something similar, but minutes pass and she doesn’t return to her side.
Finally, after what feels like ages, Shadowheart sits up. She glances around the room, rubbing her eyes. Her gaze lands on a figure sitting in the corner. She’s curled up nearly as much as she can be—her knees to her throat, and her arms wrapped around her legs—and her entire body shakes with heaving breaths.
The memory of that night before the fire flickers to the forefront of her mind.
Shadowheart sets her jaw. “Knell, what’s wrong?”
The drow doesn’t do so much as flinch. She watches, still shaking, the whites of her eyes bloodshot and wet. The harder Shadowheart looks, the more tears she can see. All of her muscles seem strained like she’s forcing every one of them to be as still as can be.
“You told me you would talk to me,” Shadowheart reminds her.
“The urge,” Knell rasps, unblinking. “I… I woke up. Your blood was on my hands.”
Shadowheart’s stomach sinks. “I’m not dead,” she says. “You didn’t kill me, I am right here. I am safe.”
“No, you’re not,” Knell snaps. “You will not be safe so long as I am here.”
She catches sight of the drow’s hand. Her fingernails are digging into her thigh so hard they might already be drawing blood.
“I haven’t told you it all, I said I would but I-” her voice catches. Knell shakes once more. “The city. It- the urge- my urge- my father- ”
“Breathe, Knell.” Shadowheart tries to soothe her, but the moment she steps forward, Knell’s arms fling out and slam against the wall. She juts out her feet as if to press herself further against the corner she is already flush to. Now, more than ever, her state is apparent. The panic she’s feeling seems to be riding in waves through her entire being. Shadowheart has never seen Knell cry in the first place, and she’s never seen Knell do this. Even the drow herself seems confused and perhaps a bit horrified. Nevertheless, relentless tears stream down her cheeks as her breaths seem to fight for purchase in her chest.
“ Shadowheart, ” Knell keens, shaking her head. “You don’t understand I don’t- I’m going to hurt you. ” Her voice shifts, twinging slightly further into some form of madness. “My mind has been a harrowing tunnel of worse and bloodier thoughts since we entered the city, I cannot think or see clearly-”
“Knell,” Shadowheart breathes.
“If I touch you, I fear I won’t be able to stop myself from digging my nails into your flesh until you bleed,” Knell gasps. “Scrape my skin away from my bones until I stop this pitiful writhing, I will not be able to do it myself without lunging for you in the process!”
Shadowheart presses back the fear clouding the edges of her mind. Knell’s pupils have begun darting about as if refusing to land on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a white strand of hair dip into her peripheral. She takes a deep breath, the aching of the wound on her hand flaring and pulsating. The wooden walls feel suffocating around them. Without being able to stop it, a hundred different ways that Knell could use the objects around this building to dress her up as an offering to her god—no not just her god, her father— flutter through her mind . As if Knell can read thoughts, she shrinks away.
The tadpole chooses this moment to squirm.
She can. She absolutely can.
“It’s all my fault,” Knell sobs, squeezing her eyes shut. “All of this- everything-” She shakes her head. “Karlach has the right idea. You have to distance yourself before I hurt you. Before I cause you more pain than I already have.”
Shadowheart goes to speak, but she is once again interrupted as Knell twitches. “Your lady of loss can inflict no suffering as well as I, and if I do not restrain myself— tie myself down to these aching floorboards—- I will tear at you just as prophesied, I will be the chosen of-”
Shadowheart crosses the room and touches her cheek. She isn’t exactly sure what prompts her to do this, but it stops the woman’s deranged tirade immediately. “Knell,” she says once again.
The drow seems to fight every instinct she has, swaying between leaning into her touch and flinching away.
Shadowheart lowers herself to her knees. She has been here for me since I was disowned by my goddess. To help her in return, to help her because I… trust her, should be an easy thing. “You, lover, are no god, as much as you would like to assume you are.”
Knell whimpers.
“You are not an accomplished, perfect deity. Do you know what that means?” Shadowheart leans forward, pressing her forehead to the drows. “Your destiny is not carved in stone. There have been bhaalspawn who surpass their urges, you can be one of them.”
“I was the leader of-”
“That doesn’t matter. Before, you were not given a choice.”
“I still killed all of those people, my love, I befriended and plotted with a tyrant!” Knell’s voice quiets with every word. “You don’t know what I saw.”
Shadowheart leans back. Her hands do not leave her lover’s face. “Tell me. No, show me. Let me understand.”
Knell’s eyes widen. “I can’t do that.”
Shadowheart nods. “You can. You will not share this burden alone.”
Knell’s panic begins to grow again. Her hand snaps to her wrist, then encloses it in the gentlest touch Shadowheart has ever felt. “You will hate me. I promise you. It is only a glimpse, but you will.” She glances at the door. “Karlach does.”
“Karlach does not hate you. She hates Gortash, and that is understandable. She needs time, she does not need the abandonment of your friendship.” Shadowheart caresses her tear-stained cheek with her thumb. “I do not need the abandonment of your care. Whether you let me in or not, you cannot push me away because you believe you know what is best. I am a grown woman. I know how to handle myself, and I know how to protect myself. I will leave if you want me gone, that is your choice, but do not think for a moment I will go if it is only because you are scared.”
Knell looks back at her. She searches her eyes for several moments before finally nodding. Slowly, ever so slowly, Shadowheart feels her tadpole begin to open a memory.
What she sees is…
Truthfully, at first, she doesn’t think she can stomach it. The gore, the filth, the dizzying pleasure that Knell appeared to have felt through the course of it all. But then she feels Knell’s hand clamp harder around her wrists—never enough to hurt—-and she pushes through.
By the time her vision fades from the blood and bile, Shadowheart is left with a racing heart, queasy stomach, and a drow incredibly worse for wear right before her.
“I’m sorry,” Knell blurts immediately, right before she begins to sob again. “Please don’t- please s-, don’t go, I don’t want to be alone I-!”
Shadowheart does the only thing she can think to do. She pulls her into a tight hug. She wraps her arms around her head, closing her eyes and trying to do everything she can to ease the burden weighing her lover down. She whispers to her, strokes her fingers through her hair, and rubs her hand in small circles between her shoulder blades, all while Knell just seems to break and break and break once more in her arms.
—-
Knell is speaking, and Karlach and Wyll seem to be listening.
“Attention back to this please? ”
Shadowheart snaps her head to look at Astarion who gives her a scrunched, self-satisfied smile. “I’m trying to-”
“You can work and watch, darling, I do it often enough,” Astarion tuts. He looks back down to the bundle of firewood he’s roping together. “Besides. It’s not as if your gaze alone will stop her from going on a murderous rampage.”
Shadowheart glares at him, then she begins to wrap her bundle.
They didn’t sleep much last night. Instead, they had a very important conversation. A majority of the darkest hours were spent huddled together in that corner, Knell clinging on to her hand as she spoke about gods know what. Eventually, they touched on the subject of Gortash.
“I don’t remember him at all,” Knell had professed. “Even as he was telling me what we did together, I have no recollection of it. I remember more of the drow colonies than I do him. ”
“What has made Karlach upset is the trust you might have had. She holds you at a very high place in her mind, and I’m guessing you do the same to her. You’ve promised to help her reign vengeance on the man who hurt her, and then suddenly, it turns out that you had a closer relationship than even she did with him. That is why she’s upset.”
There had been at least an hour of apologies, most accompanied by a new swath of tears.
This morning, the sun shines so brightly that it hurts to even look at the blue in the sky. The flowers, blooming by the handful in the field by their camp, almost appear to glow. It’s as if nature is celebrating something. Perhaps it could be. Perhaps the rebirth of a doomed child.
Out of the corner of her eye, Shadowheart watches as Karlach finally caves and pulls Knell into an incredibly tight hug. Knell, who appears so stoic for most of the day, surprises her as she hugs her back. Wyll looks completely astounded, but he joins when Karlach opens up her arm.
Shadowheart can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips. She looks back to her work, immediately catching Astarion craning his neck to watch too. “You can work and watch, darling,” Shadowheart teases.
He rolls his eyes. “ Sorry. I was just hoping they won’t waste all of that energy. After all, that hug will feel spectacular after I rip Cazador to shreds.”
“You’re sure you’re not just happy for them?”
Astarion presses his lips together, then he sighs with a small grin. “I suppose it could be that too.”
Shadowheart reaches over and grabs his bunch of firewood, standing up as she does. “For the record, I do think that it will feel wonderful.”
At that, Astarion laughs gleefully.
—-
Shadowheart walks beside her lover again. For hours now, she’s been distracted surveying the street for the House of Grief. When she feels something brush her hand, she nearly shrieks in surprise, only to look down and discover that it is simply Knell’s fingertips brushing the back of her own. The drow watches her expectantly. “You alright?” She breathes, leaning closer so Shadowheart can hear her.
She takes a deep breath. “Yes. Today has been very… it’s been nice. I’m glad you and Karlach have worked everything out.”
“Me too,” Knell says softly. She pauses for a moment, then she brushes the back of her hand again. “I’m sorry for last night.”
Shadowheart shrugs. “They were conversations that needed to be had.” She bumps her arm with her elbow. “You, my love, needed a reminder that I am not afraid of you, no matter how much I likely should be.”
Knell grins. She’s seemed to have quite a difficult time not showing her emotions today. Shadowheart appreciates the change, truly. “Thank you.” She pauses, then she leans closer. “I have a question for you.”
“Do tell,” Shadowheart whispers back.
“Hold my hand?” she asks. Her voice wavers.
Shadowheart turns her head to gaze into her eyes. They’re not what they were the night before, or even what they were during the entirety of their previous journey. They are pools of hope. She wants to drown in them. She nods in response and immediately threads her fingers through Knell’s. She squeezes her lover’s hand as she sidles closer, their armor clacking. Shadowheart looks up at her with all the adoration she can muster. “We’ll be alright.”
Knell’s expression softens. She lifts their hands to her lips and presses a lingering kiss to Shadowheart’s knuckles. “Yes, we will,” she says softly. “Shall we find your parents?”
“Absolutely,” Shadowheart smiles.