Chapter Text
Once they had a fire going— which didn’t take long thanks to a Firebolt from Shadowheart— Rhian flopped down on her bedroll. Exhaustion weighed on her, and she hoped that just by laying down her mind would grow quiet again.
It didn’t help that the smoldering wreckage of the nautiloid was still visible down the far end of the beach, the fires already growing dimmer in the time they’d taken to briefly search the surrounding area and make camp.
Make camp, she thought sarcastically, As if two bedrolls and a small fire really accounted for much. But it was better than nothing, at least for the night, and in the daylight they could do a better search and see what else might have survived the crash. And who else.
Shadowheart had dropped her bedroll nearby, close enough that she could reach over and touch her, but only if she stretched. She silently watched the fire, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.
Eventually, the silence started to get to Rhian. Flexing her hands, she lightly dug at the sand to the side of her bedroll, needing to keep her hands busy. There was a pressure in her head, the feel of the tadpole burrowed behind her eyes a new, uncomfortable, presence. The memory of that mind flayer, leaning in, worm held high in its long, sharp fingers. The feeling of being restrained, trapped in the pod, held down against her will while it bored into her head… She pressed the back of her wrist between her eyes in a futile attempt to relieve any of it— the memories, or the discomfort.
“You must have some thoughts about our little stowaways?” Rhian posed the question to Shadowheart; she didn’t seem much inclined for small talk, but Rhian wanted— needed— to talk about something.
“Must I?” Shadowheart turned to look down at her, where Rhian was sprawled.
She rolled her head to the side to get a better look at her. “You have a worm in your brain, and don’t have anything to say about it?”
Shadowheart’s face twitched, small enough Rhian wasn’t sure if she was holding back a smile or a grimace, or if it was just a trick of the firelight. “I can’t say that I do. We know what needs to be done, so let’s just do it. Finding a healer should be our first goal, come morning.”
Rhian refocused her attention on the sky above her, pillowing her head on her arm and crossing her ankles. She could hear the sizzling and crackling of the still-burning ship on the other end of the beach, and the quiet sounds of their own little campfire. Shadowheart’s statement had effectively shut down the conversation, the half-elf surprisingly tight-lipped given their odd shared circumstance.
With the anxieties of the day, though, Rhian’s better judgement was fleeting. Eyes still trained upward, she blurted, “Do you think we need to feed them?”
That drew Shadowheart’s attention yet again, and from the corner of her eye, she saw her companion flash her a confused look.
Rhian continued, “Because that’s my plan. Just starve the little fucker out.”
“Well,” the cleric cocked her head, her braid swinging behind her with the movement, “if they feed on brain tissue, I’d say you’re well on your way to a cure.”
“Ha!” Rhian barked, “I like you.”
Shadowheart shuffled sideways on her bedroll, seemingly put off by Rhian’s quick declaration. “Are you always this flippant in such dire circumstances?”
“Oh, you know. Only on days where I’ve been, one—“ Rhian held up a hand, ticking off the events of the past day as she spoke, “abducted by an alien ship, two— had a worm stuffed into my head, three— managed to crash said alien ship with the help of two other strangers, four— nearly fell to my death and was saved by some random act of magic, and then, of course, five— having to spend the night on a random beach in the middle of gods-know-where with a pretty half-elf I just met who also happens to be in the exact same ridiculous circumstance.”
She turned to look at Shadowheart again, catching her eyebrows quirking up at the ‘pretty’ comment, “How should I be reacting to this?”
“Fair enough,” she quipped, “When you put it like that.”
“Mhmm,” Rhian hummed, settling back down and folding her hands against her stomach, satisfied, “But hopefully we can find something come morning. We still don’t know where our gith friend ended up.”
Irritation laced Shadowheart’s words. “You might want to reconsider calling her a friend,” she scoffed, “She clearly felt no such regard for either of us.”
Rhain supposed she had a point, though the gith had helped them on the nautiloid. Rhian hoped nothing bad had befallen her, regardless of her not sticking around. She let the conversation drop, though, fearing that she had already pushed enough for one night. And Shadowheart clearly held no love for the gith, given her suspicion aboard the nautiloid, and now this.
Falling back in to silence, Rhian let her mind wander. It was strange, being back out in the wilderness again. She’d spent the last several decades in Baldur’s Gate, and hadn’t bothered venturing out of her normal everyday routine on more than the very rare occasion. She was trying not to think about it all too much— being dropped in the middle of the woods was one thing. Being randomly abducted off the street in the middle of a normal day, and infected with a parasite destined to turn her into a monster… She shuddered at the thought, wincing at the tadpole that squirmed behind her eyes.
Truthfully, she was terrified, and her heart was still racing in her chest. Shifting again, she dug her feet into the sand on either side of her bedroll— looted from a couple of goblins they’d found nearby, another unpleasing thought she shook off. Hopefully, come morning, they would be able to find something nearby that could give them a direction. Ideally, a healer, or at least allies.
Beside her, Shadowheart jerked upright again, having nearly dozed off for what Rhian thought was the third time— at least.
“You can sleep, you know,” Rhian said, keeping her voice light, “I’ll keep watch.”
Shadowheart looked over at her with tired eyes, the dark circles around them undermining her words, “I’m fine.”
Rhian huffed a laugh, not bothered to even attempt to hide her amusement, “Whatever you say. But when you fall headfirst into the fire, I’m not putting you out.”
She could tell Shadowheart was going to further argue her point when she scowled at her, so Rhian headed her off. “I’ve had ample opportunity to harm you, or steal from you. Trust me, if I was going to, I would’ve done it already. No sense in risking the wrath of a githyanki to free you, only to turn on you later.”
“That’s comforting,” came her dry response, “Though I suppose that’s a fair point. You did save my life aboard the nautiloid, how can I do anything but sing your praises?”
“Now you’re getting it,” Rhian shot back, “I take repayment for heroics in the form of gold or snacks, though I suppose a song would be fine as well.”
She caught the cleric shaking her head and rolling her eyes, but the ghost of a smile had appeared on her face. Finally seeing reason, Shadowheart lay sideaways on her bedroll, but still kept Rhian within her eyeline.
Rhian was used to being alone, so lying awake by herself was comforting, in a familiar way. Under the crackle of the fire, she could hear the crickets and other insects along the shoreline, the gentle lapping of the river, and her companion’s quiet breaths.
Shadowheart had certainly been a surprise, albeit not a bad one. She’d not been able to get a read on her yet, but her snarky banter had dragged her out of spiraling entirely. Besides, being alone and dealing with, well, everything, didn’t exactly sound appealing either. She wouldn’t wish her position on anyone else, that was for sure, but she was grateful for the company.
Studying the stars, Rhian let her mind drift again, thoughts swirling like galaxy patterns through her head. She didn’t let herself fully fall into her meditation, in case anyone came upon them on the beach— they had set off a magnificent explosion with the ship, after all- but still lightly dozed, ears alert for any sounds.
That was how she caught the rustling of fabric with some of Shadowheart’s slight movements in her sleep. At first, she didn’t think anything of it, keeping her eyes closed, just listening.
After another several minutes, she moved again, this time letting out a quiet whimper. Pulling herself back to full awareness, Rhian rolled onto her side, propping up on one elbow to watch the cleric.
Her sleep had turned fitful, uneasy. Her eyes were closed tight, mouth drawn into a thin line. She looked nearly in pain, twisting on her bedroll.
Indecision warred in her mind on whether to wake her or not, waiting another few minutes to see if she relaxed again. Instead, Shadowheart grimaced, crying out softly in her sleep, and that cemented her decision.
Moving over to kneel next to her, Rhian hesitated, hand hovering over her shoulder. She quietly called her, “Shadowheart?”
No response.
She called again, slightly louder, and this time Shadowheart’s eyes fluttered, but didn’t open, leaving her trapped in whatever nightmare was plaguing her.
Rhian closed the distance, fingers brushing lightly against her bare shoulder, “Shad-“
She’d hardly touched her, and the next thing Rhian knew, her back slammed into the ground, one arm trapped at her side by the cleric’s knee, the other pressed into the sand above her head with Shadowheart’s fingers gripped tight around her wrist. Panic gripped her, unable to move from how the cleric was leaned over her, breathing ragged, eyes wide and unfocused. And she felt the cold kiss of steel at her throat.
Rhian froze.
Eyes wide, her gaze never left Shadowheart’s face. Hardly daring to move, her head screaming, Rhian breathed, “It”s just me.”
Shadowheart’s hand trembled around the hilt of her blade, pressing it against her skin. There was a small sting as it broke skin, the cut shallow. Then Shadowheart’s brow furrowed, and Rhian watched as confusion chased by recognition flashed across her features, fully coming-to. “Rhian?”
They stared at each other, the space between them crackling, Rhian’s pulse thrumming in her veins, heart hammering hard enough she was sure Shadowheart could feel it under her grip. Shadowheart’s eyes darted across her face, then down to the knife, like she was just realizing she was holding it.
The tension left her, and she stashed her blade again, pushing off of Rhian and sitting back on her bedroll.
Rhian blew out a breath, relaxing back into the sand. Flexing her fingers, she tried to calm her racing heart, lying still. What in the hells.
Discomfort lanced up her spine— the ghost of Shadowheart’s vise-like grip around her wrist, her knee against her side, her weight atop her, all making it feel like her skin was aflame.
Heaving herself back into a sitting position, she found Shadowheart had her back to her, a clear indication she didn’t want to talk about it. Rhian brushed the sand from her hair and clothes, chancing a question, “Are you—“
“I’m fine,” Shadowheart snapped back.
Rhian touched her fingers to the front of her throat, holding them out towards the fire to find they’d come away bloodied. She frowned; it wasn’t a lot, and it only stung a little, but still… “If you need to talk about it—“
“I don’t,” Shadowheart cut her off again, keeping her back to her, her shoulders hunched forward, arms wrapped around her knees.
Rhian couldn’t even begin to guess what had happened that would have her reacting this way. They hardly knew each other, and while Rhian didn’t necessarily think she owed her an explanation… “You just held a blade to my throat,” she gently pressed, “I’d like to know why.”
Shadowheart whirled on her, a snarl on her lips, ready to snap. And she stopped. She still looked pissed at Rhian’s prodding, but her attention had caught on the smear of blood at Rhian’s throat. “You’re bleeding,” she noted, her tone a complete one-eighty from her prior annoyance.
Rhian spread her hands, eyebrows shooting up in a well duh, what’d you think? look, still waiting for her to answer the question.
Shadowheart ignored her, moving closer to her again. Wary, Rhian leaned back, eyes darting down to her outstretched hand. Shadowheart stopped immediately, freezing upon seeing Rhian’s discomfort. “May I?” Shadowheart asked, fingers barely an inch from her skin.
She wasn’t sure why, but Rhian nodded, barely perceptible; the cleric’s quick change in demeanor was enough to put her on uneven footing, yet she trusted she had no ill intent. At least, now that she seemed fully conscious and aware, anyway.
Fingers just barely grazing against her throat, Shadowheart spoke a quiet healing incantation. A slight glow lit up her face from the spell, Rhian’s skin burning and itching as the minor cut knit itself back together. She swallowed, watching Shadowheart with bated breath.
Sharp green eyes bored into hers, and any additional prying, or the urge to make a joke, left her. “Thank you,” Rhian whispered instead.
Shadowheart’s eyes softened, and she backed away with a slight dip of her head. “Can we leave this, for tonight?”
“Okay,” Rhian agreed, “I’ll leave it be.”
“Thank you,” the cleric dipped her head, and Rhian moved back around the other side of the fire.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully, although Rhian remained sitting up, keeping watch over Shadowheart, and ensuring they remained undisturbed while she slept.