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Summary
She pulls her feelings forward like heartstrings, out of her mouth, trembling and alive. His teeth are stained with blood, her hands drip with it, wonderful and horrible and warm. Happiness should not be theirs, but they reach for it anyway, clasping their fingers around the shape of it. Thousands of lives ended at their hands, thousands more freed, a debt that cannot be balanced; fault and fear bite at their veins, defiance and devotion cauterize the wound.
There is a monster in her skin and another in her bed, but that cannot be all they are. Hunger and misery have dogged their steps, but there is more to life, even for the unliving.
There has to be a place for them, down there in the dark. There must be.
Here, reunited with the freed spawn in the eerie shadow of a subterranean castle, a home might await. But a place is not a home just because it is found; it must be made, and it must be paid for, because nothing in the Underdark comes without a price. What ghosts still linger in its memory, unresting and unforgiving? How do you claim a home when the world has already decided you do not deserve one?
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