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The day after Shadowheart and Lae’zel leave, Jaheira makes contact with a therapist who specializes in grief and the loss of children. The harper assures the paladin that Doctor Sagaad is unerringly professional and will not share any information about them. Halsin relaxes an infinitesimal amount at that information, trusting Jaheira on this.
“She's been working in this field for fifteen years cub, she can help you process your feelings. You don't need to tell her any specifics, but I can only imagine it will help if she understands the entirety.”
Astarion forces himself to keep his fears to himself. He hates this situation with every fiber of his being. Solace should not have to tell more people of their bloodline. Too many people know already. Halsin shared his concerns, but advised that Solace has to make the decision themself with none of their partner’s fears added to theirs. The paladin was slowly falling apart with sorrows they do not know how to process. The potential of Solace’s identity being revealed might be a necessary risk if the tiefling can be helped through the loss of their child.
He’s never felt less useful than he has in the last few days. Other than feeling like Solace should scream and cry and rage about the unfairness of it all, he has nothing to give them. Half the time they don’t even want him to hold their hand or embrace them. He can’t tell if they are punishing themself with a lack of affection or if they truly do not want him to touch them. It’s maddening.
It’s not even that they or he or Halsin are unwilling to speak on it. Solace tries to talk about it, but they can’t seem to say it to either of the men who love them. The words stutter and strangle in their throat and they just start crying again.
Jaheira hosts Solace and their partners in her underground grotto once again, saying that the three of them would feel very alone in the massive tavern room. All three of them sit on a comfortable, plush couch and wait for Jaheira to bring this therapist to them. Solace sits on the edge of the couch; leaned forward with their elbows on their knees and hands clasped under their nose. They have not stopped bouncing their right leg since sitting down half an hour ago.
Sagaad is a middle aged half-orc woman with long, well maintained red hair with gentle waves. Her skin is a pretty dark green and her eyes a soft amber hidden behind thick lensed wire glasses. Her gaze is piercing, but her expression is kind. Her tusks accentuate her soft smile in a manner he hadn't been expecting. He rarely saw half-orcs in pleasant moods; so he was expecting a frightening scowl.
“This is them, Sagaad. The elves are their partners. Halsin the Druid, and Astarion the… Scout.” Astarion can't stop the wry smile that contorts his lips at the harper trying to describe him in a manner that does not make him seem like the killer he is. It’s kind of sweet that she would protect Solace by obfuscating his talents.
“I would say it is a pleasure to meet all of you, but I will not say so when my understanding is you have suffered an intimate and devastating loss. I regret that we are meeting under such circumstances.” Sagaad wastes no time in summoning a comfortable chair to sit across from the three of them; a notepad and pencil held by a spectral hand. Jaheira looks to Solace and only exits the grotto when the tiefling nods to dismiss her. A very tense moment passes in near silence as the tiefling seems unprepared for whatever this conversation is going to be.
It is the half-orc who speaks first. Her voice is calm and free of judgement. She speaks with a cadence of ease and openmindedness. Her entire bearing is of someone who wants to listen and understand. Astarion feels himself being torn in two directions of thought. One side of him wants to trust her while the other feels like he’s being led to a shallow grave. Precious few people are genuine like Solace, and he does not know if this woman is even half as trustworthy as she wants to present herself.
“Before we begin in earnest,” Sagaad says, one leg crossed and her arms draped over her knee; expression kind and open as she leans forward. Astarion finds himself leaning backwards, body tense. There is a tingling on the back of his neck. A twisting discomfort in his stomach like a den of vipers. This woman is quietly intimidating and he feels trapped by invisible bonds that he does not understand. The soft smile the woman offers him does very little to put him at ease. Her gentle gaze settles on Solace once more.
“I have been told nothing explicit, but I am no fool. I have known Jaheira for nearly six years, and even if I did not, I know her history. Given the loud rumors of The Dead Three being involved in a giant brain trying to enslave or destroy the city barely a tenday ago, I would be rather… naive to assume that the High Harper would demand my attention for someone uninvolved in the latest crisis Baldur’s Gate has withstood.”
Astarion watches Solace's body language shift from defensive, to desperately trying to hide behind Halsin. Both elves wear expressions of tense discontent as Sagaad speaks and makes Solace uncomfortable.
“Solace, you are my patient. Nothing you say to me will leave this room unless what you say makes me believe that harm will come to you or another person. No notes will be taken that can identify you in any way. If you wish, I will let you read our session notes to be certain. My purpose is to help you with the loss you have experienced. You need not tell me more than you deem necessary. I simply don't want you to think me a fool.”
Astarion bites his tongue in an effort to keep his thoughts to himself. She didn't need to explain how she thought Solace was involved in destroying the brain, or their potential connection to The Dead Three. She was stroking her own ego and scaring Solace.
“I'm a bhaalspawn. The purest Bhaal ever created.” The tiefling immediately confesses, holding the doctor’s gaze with an empty expression on their face. A challenge of sorts. Solace is watching the woman for any signs of duplicity or falsehoods.
Astarion’s jaw clenches despite his utter lack of surprise. Solace would have had to explain their origin to have the half-orc understand exactly what happened to their unborn child. Yet hearing them say it so matter-of-factly hurts.
They will always be tied to the god that created them, used them, and discarded them like they meant nothing. It’s… exactly like everything Cazador did to him and made him do. There is no escape from it. They both will have to carry the burden of their pasts forever. Maybe there is a benefit to talking about it every now and again. It certainly made understanding his partner’s urges easier in the beginning, and both Solace and Halsin were able to navigate his own weaknesses when he told them what his life has been.
Why they should tell a stranger instead of their partners still makes no sense to him.
“I guessed as much. I will not ask for details that do not pertain to the child you lost unless you would like me to. I will leave your past up to you to decide what is necessary for me to know. That being said, my aid will be limited by what I do not know. We can take this as slow as you need. You do not have to trust me with everything immediately if you do not want to. You are also welcome to ask me any questions you would see as helpful.”
Sagaad and Solace speak very openly to the other: the tiefling's half remembered story falling from their lips with the kind of relief he heard from his own lips when he finally told Solace what he felt for them and why he couldn’t keep sleeping with them. They needed to explain what they remembered about their past. The paladin’s tension eased as they told a stranger their memories; like the bleeding of an abscess, Solace is relieved of the pressure keeping their past a secret caused.
Sagaad takes notes with the spectral hand and gives her full attention to Solace, occasionally asking clarifying questions about what happened during the last few months. When the paladin came to explain their discovered involvement in The Absolute and their relationship with Gortash, Sagaad's eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch but she did not react past that. She just continued to listen to the quickly speaking paladin. They are retelling their most recent memory. Their eyes are unfocused over Sagaad’s shoulder, their hands gesturing in front of them. They have been steadily crying since they started talking about their remembrances of Gortash. Sagaad had summoned a pitcher and goblet of water about half an hour ago to have them drink some water.
“I remembered stabbing my stomach nine times. I remember feeling bloodlust and rage and sorrow. I… I don't remember anything about where I was aside from my chambers in the temple. I could have gone on a spree or went to Enver. I don't know. I don't know. What I do know… what I assume… Father punished me for loving my child. Enver's child. The greatest sin I could commit was caring for anything more than Bhaal.”
Sagaad nods and writes down something before leaning forward and catching Solace's gaze. Her tone is gentle when she asks her next question.
“What do you feel about how your child passed?”
Astarion's expression must be comically incensed. Solace feels horrid, obviously. They feel used. They feel like a monster.
“I… feel like they're lucky.” The tiefling's voice is cracked like they haven't had anything to drink in days. Astarion forces himself to keep his head from whipping towards his paladin. He doesn't understand.
Solace is desperately kind and caring. What in the world had happened to make that sentence appear in their mind and then have them say it? How could they feel that their murdered child was lucky? They’ve been insisting that they are a monster for the past three or more days.
When Astarion does gently turn his head, he sees Solace's face is soaked with tears. They looked haunted. Distraught. As though their own words do not make sense to them.
“I…” The tiefling's tail flicks against Halsin's leg with a charming metallic clang that makes Sagaad's mouth twitch in an aborted smile. The half-orc has been entirely focused on listening without giving an overtly emotional response. She studies the tiefling as they wring their hands in their lap. Solace takes a deep breath and continues to speak; their tone distant, as if they are trying to understand their own words.
“I think… I feel like it… they got the better deal… they didn't have to be forced into murder. They didn't have to live like… I did.” Solace sniffs and wipes their tears and snotty nose on a napkin that Halsin had passed them a while ago.
“I feel terrible for thinking that. I wanted them. I know I did. But… I was murdered for defying Bhaal. I don’t… can't believe any child of mine would have been any more free than I was.”
Astarion’s stomach twists into knots as Solace speaks. The words make sense, but to hear Solace say that they felt their murdered child was the lucky one… Astarion wipes away his own tears and tries to avoid looking at his beloved paladin. They shouldn’t have to worry about his reaction to this. It doesn't matter what he thinks about this. Halsin's hand slips behind Solace's back and he squeezes his hand, gently pulling the vampire back to the conversation.
“Solace, I want you to be honest with yourself and your partners right now. What do you feel about what you remember about your past under your father’s influence?”
“Shame. Anger. Mostly anger. I did everything he wanted and he fucking murdered me. He used me to murder my baby because he wanted me to be devoted only to him. I couldn’t have anything else, and still… I wanted Enver and our baby and he took it from me.”
Astarion swallows and feels his jaw clench. He doesn't want to cry because of this. He doesn't want to cry in front of this woman. He doesn't want to make Solace feel worse than they do now for making him cry.
Solace is angry that their father abandoned them. They hate him for everything he did to them and they feel angry that they were punished for not being perfect.
It sounds exactly like Cazador. Astarion tried so hard to be perfect. He tried for so long to do everything right, and every time, he failed. He failed and he was punished. Yet even now, even when the bastard is dead and Karlach dragged his body into the sun to burn, Astarion feels like he should make the bastard happy.
“Anger is not a bad thing, Solace. You were wronged. Your child was wronged. If you heard your story from a stranger, would you condemn them for being angry at the one who harmed them?” Sagaad’s voice is warm and kind, and Astarion feels sick. She doesn't know what Solace or he had done. She doesn't know that thousands are dead because of the two of them.
“A stranger didn’t kill parents and other children.”
“Not that you know of.”
Solace freezes beside him; tail curling around his leg a moment later. It’s calming, having them want to touch him. They have been closed off for too long.
“You feel guilt about those you have hurt. Do you imagine Bhaal feels any guilt over what he compelled you to do? Or do you think, just maybe, you are as much a victim as those you killed in his name?”
“Most victims don’t create more victims, Sagaad.”
“That’s not always true. In terms of abuse, many people who do not, or cannot, end the cycles of violence that created them, become abusers because that is all they know. Or it is easier to be what they know than to try something unfamiliar or something they legitimately cannot imagine. Or, and I think you'll see my point here; when a victim is abducted and tortured into compliance, they must do as they are told to survive.” Sagaad’s intelligent, piercing eyes meet Astarion's for two unbroken seconds. His chest tightens as if he had a beating heart that stopped. She knew.
Sagaad's eyes drift back to Solace's face; the tiefling wiping tears from their eyes and had not noticed Sagaad's focus on their partner.
“Solace, you are one of your father’s victims, but that is not all that defines you. And it is okay to be relieved that your child did not have to suffer as you did.”
Solace weeps. Their chest heaves and they try to burrow into Halsin's ribs; the druid turning towards them and pulling them close. Solace's tail circles around Astarion's knee. A few minutes pass while the paladin cries. Sagaad reviews her notes, keeping an eye on the slowly calming paladin.
When Solace has cried themself out and is willing to talk again, they clear their throat and exhale heavily.
“I… want to, need to, actually, talk about how to fucking grieve. It's… I don't… I don't know how to deal with this. I can't stop seeing it. I want to stop seeing it. The… blood on my hands and stomach.” Solace quietly begs for their therapist to tell them how to move on. Astarion finds himself leaning in as well.
“I understand what you're asking, Solace, but unfortunately, there is no one certain way to grieve. And if I may, you recalled a traumatic memory only a few days ago. It is completely normal, healthy, I would say, to be distracted and upset about it. Processing takes time, much as we are loathe to admit it. I can and will help you as much as I am able, but part of that is reminding you that the circumstances are going to destabilize you, and that is perfectly normal.” Sagaad smiles sympathetically as she says this. Solace's shoulders slump.
“From what I understand, you were hoping to go to the Underdark with Astarion and build some kind of refuge? I can say that sounds very worthwhile, but I would like to have you ask yourself if you would send your partner into a dangerous place with them in a state as you are in.” Solace shakes their head in response, frowning miserably. Astarion offers his hand to them and is grateful when they take it. Their grip is strong and intense, their skin hot against his frigid fingers.
“You are capable of making your own choices, but you have two partners who care about you, Solace. You do not need to do this alone, as determined as you may be to try. Bottling your feelings up and letting them age like wine is not healthy. For the individual or their loved ones.” Solace quietly snorts at the wine joke, and Astarion smiles. The paladin is doing markedly better, even after this short session. Maybe this doctor is actually going to be useful.
“As for helping with grief, I can tell you what I have had help other parents who have lost their children. Many parents, especially those who carried the child, find that holding a ceremony or funeral helps. If you like, I can help you make a farewell gift for them. If you'd like to do all of it yourself, that is also perfectly fine.”
Solace sniffles, swallows, and gives Sagaad a watery smile. Their voice cracks when they reply.
“That sounds really nice, actually. I–I’d like your help.”
Later that night, when the sun has just passed the horizon and he will not be harmed, Halsin and he follow Solace and Jaheira to a riverside park north of Jaheira's house and Grey Harbor. Gale and Wyll, along with Karlach and Minsc, quietly follow as well; silently supporting the paladin as they take shaking breaths.
Halsin and Astarion stand on either side of their paladin, Halsin with a hand on Solace's shoulder, and Astarion touching their lower back. The tiefling carries a small wooden boat in their hands.
The wooden sail boat is simple; carved and whittled from pine wood by Halsin's careful, caring hands and magic. No paint was applied to the small vessel; just a little bit of infernal and elvish script on either side of the hull.
The wooden vessel has no sail. No rudder. The toy will go where the current decides. A simple, drifting journey with no predicted destination.
The boat is made of two pieces of wood. The hull and deck can be separated, and there is room enough in the small hold for a trinket or two.
Solace has written in their own hand, sloppy and unpracticed as their left hand is, a letter to their unborn child. No one was allowed to read it. It rests in the belly of the boat alongside a bundle of cinnamon, sage, and lavender wrapped in soft silk.
Solace kneels on the bank of the river; uncaring of the water lapping at and soaking their knees. They dig into the sand, creating a small dry dock for the vessel and setting the boat within.
Gale and Wyll silently and gently hand Solace two small candles; Wyll lighting them with a spark of lightning from his fingers. The candles burn with soft green flame; as most spirit candles do. The candles do not beckon to spirits, instead serving as a guide to the other side. Or so the superstition went. Astarion didn't know. He kneels beside his partner along with Halsin, trying to be supportive in a situation where he did not know what to do at all.
Solace isn't crying anymore. Their heart is calm and their breathing is quiet. They set the spirit candles on the deck of the wooden boat and speak the words written on the hull.
“May you know peace, little one.”
Solace digs the sand wall out from the front of the boat and watches the vessel rise in the water. Bobbing in a dock made especially for it. So quickly made, and just as quickly, it will be refilled.
Solace's left hand squeezes Astarion's right as they turn to Halsin with a sad smile.
“Could you, uh, help them get started? I don't want them to get caught in the reeds immediately.”
Halsin returns the sad smile and nods, gesturing his right hand while he holds Solace's prosthetic in his left. The little boat bobs and rises on a small wave of water; carried gently out of the sand dock and out onto the Chionthar.
Solace watches the little boat sail away; still smiling sadly, but at peace while surrounded by the majority of their family. Everyone watches and waits for the little green flames to disappear. Be they swallowed by the darkness, distance, or water, it does not matter. The little boat, the symbol of a child no one will ever know, has passed out of sight and control of those who will remember it.
A warm hand brushes away his tears; Solace smiling at him with an ocean of grief in their eyes. He returns the expression and kisses their knuckles.
“I love you, Astarion. Thank you.” They don't elaborate, kissing his cheek and turning to Halsin.
“I love you, Halsin. You're… thank you.” The druid smiles at his partner and kisses their forehead. Nothing more need be said.