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After the trials of the House of Grief, Rhian had made the executive decision for them all to take a few days’ break. Between having to take on Viconia and the Sharrans, and then the emotional toll of Shadowheart’s decision, neither Rhian nor her cleric were inclined to head back out too soon. Everyone else had been okay with that choice— Orin was still gone to ground, unsettlingly quiet, and they still needed to actually locate the Foundry and find a way to take on Gortash. The Ironhand gnomes had been a help, with Wulbren’s direction of taking down the Foundry and the Gondians along with it. Now it was up to them to put a plan into place.
Returning from a quick foray down to the tavern for a snack, Rhian shoved another cookie in her mouth, doing a quick survey of their shared room.
They’d dragged a table over into the room by the windows, either to use for planning or laying out gear and supplies. Now, several of her companions were gathered around playing cards. At a glance, it looked like Astarion was winning, as usual, with a stack of gold sat in front of him. Gale’s brow was furrowed as he stared at his hand, clearly trying to outthink the rogue. Karlach, Wyll, Halsin, and Jaheira were also gathered around, with varying amounts of gold still on the table— except Karlach, apparently she’d lost already and was instead sowing chaos among the others. Lae’zel was observing the game, probably trying to figure out whatever bastardized ruleset the lot of them had settled on.
Rhian softened, watching her friends. She didn’t envy Lae— they had a tendency to come up with the most idiotic rules when playing and, dependent on who was at the table, would change them up for the same game. Trying to keep track of it was probably a nightmare, even for one as sharp as Lae’zel.
Taking notice that the group was incomplete, Rhian glanced around for Minthara and Shadowheart.
Unsurprisingly, Minthara was in her usual space across the room. Still convinced the rest of them simply tolerated her presence, rather than actually liking her, she was keeping her distance. Well, as much as she could in their current living arrangements anyway. Rhian felt that eventually, between her and Karlach, they’d manage to talk her into joining a game. She had an inkling the drow would dethrone Astarion as the winner— he could use some humbling.
Shadowheart, on the other hand…
Rhian was still worried about her. Similar to after Shadowfell, she was back to being more withdrawn, so it didn’t come as a shock for her to be absent from the group shenanigans.
For the time being, she was sitting on one of the sofas in front of the fireplace, sorting through a handful of items. Meandering over, Rhian munched on her final cookie, dusting the crumbs off on her pant leg.
Leaning over Shadowheart’s shoulder from behind the sofa, she eyed the items she had spread out beside her— most looked to be jewelry or little keepsakes— another handful in the palm of her hand. “Oh, treasure?” she asked, eyes lighting up.
Without turning around, Shadowheart chuckled. “Nothing for you,” she waved her off, closing her hand over the handful of shiny items, “Gods, you’re like a magpie.”
“I thought I was a dove,” Rhian tossed back, slinging her arms over her shoulders, letting out a coo before planting a kiss on her cheek*, “*But fine, I’ll keep my hands to myself. What’d you find?”
“Some things from when I was an initiate,” Shadowheart held out her hand, uncovering the items so that Rhian could sort through and have a look, “Part of our training was to pickpocket, moving through the city undetected. I kept a few things over the years, and found them again in the night orchid cave...”
“Ooh, little rebel,” Rhian smirked, “I’m guessing you weren’t supposed to keep them.”
Shadowheart shook her head; before she could explain further, Rhian’s attention narrowed to one particular ring sitting in the center of her palm. It was delicate silver, finely crafted and detailed into a vine, with leaves branching off the main shape in short, elegant curves. Picking it up gently, Rhian softly inquired, “Where did you get that?”
Shadowheart lifted a shoulder, jostling her slightly with the movement, “Not sure, probably just lifted it from someone in the city. I didn’t exactly keep a ledger of where each of these came from, and can’t remember most. Why? Does it mean something to you?”
“Yeah,” Rhian breathed, “It’s mine.”
“What?” Shadowheart shifted sideways to better look at her, “Its yours?”
“Yeah,” Rhian nodded, turning the ring over between her fingers, marveling at the little impossibility that was sitting right here— something she’d made over a decade ago, that had been lost, and now returned.
She realized, then, she should explain. “It’s not mine, mine. Rather, I made it. Twice, actually. Because the first one went missing,” side-eyeing Shadowheart, she watched her eyes go wide, “I had a client return, said his order had gone missing on his walk back from picking it up. His girlfriend was a druid, or her mother was…”
Rhian frowned, trying to remember before giving up, “Ah, well, it doesn’t matter. Point is, the ring went missing, and despite retracing his steps thinking he’d dropped it, or left it sitting at a vendor stall, he couldn’t find it. So, I offered to make him a replacement, same specs. I guess I finally have an answer as to what happened.”
She playfully poked Shadowheart in the side, delighting when she shuffled closer, dropping the ring back into her hand. Confused, Shadowheart held it back towards her, “Don’t you want it back?”
Shaking her head, Rhian folded Shadowheart’s fingers closed back over it. “Keep it. You’ve already had it this long. Besides,” Rhian turned into her, brushing her lips against her temple before mumbling against her, “I rather like the idea that some small part of me has been with you all along.”
Slipping the ring onto her left hand, she held it out to catch the light, turning it this way and that. Seeing Shadowheart wearing her work, Rhian felt something burn in her chest— a want, a desire.
Someday soon, I’m going to make her mine.
Unaware of Rhian’s thoughts, she mused, “Not my usual style.”
“No,” Rhian agreed, kissing her on the cheek, “But it suits you.”
“Hm,” she leaned her head back against the top of the sofa, “I’m sure that’s not a biased assessment at all.”
“Correct,” Rhian held up her own hand, flashing the few rings she wore, all of them out of her own workshop, “Who would know better what suits you than a jeweler, hm?”
Shadowheart reached up to twist her hand into Rhian’s hair, stretching up to properly kiss her, even at the awkward angle. “You’ll have to make me a proper one, after all this is over with.”
“Mhmm,” Rhian agreed, not wanting to give away too many of her plans, and kissed her again.