Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My love language is creating Spotify playlists, so naturally I made one for this fic. You can find it here, or search for it using the Fic title 😊

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That's enough with the self promo - on with the story.

Forty years. Today marked forty heart-wrenching years since Arnell and Emmeline’s daughter had been abducted by Shar’s forces on what should have been the day she came of age. Despite the anniversary and Emmeline’s waning energy, the couple ventured hand-in-hand into the woods where she was taken, as they did every day.

They lived a bucolic life still in the same little cottage in the country that their Jenevelle had grown up in. They had changed nothing over the years in the hope that one day their daughter may remember where they lived and walk through the door unannounced.  The same chairs, now threadbare and in desperate need of reupholstering, still sat facing the same stone hearth. Emmeline still baked the same apple and plum pie, leaving it to cool on the same windowsill each evening. The only difference now was that it was fully allowed to cool before two slices were cut.

Over forty years, their hope still lived as strong in their hearts as it had on day one.

Today, though, something was different when they reached the clearing in the forest.

Although the clearing held horrible memories for the couple, it was a peaceful and quaint spot – filled with birdsong at night with just enough room through the trees to see the stars and spattered with life and spots of sunlight throughout the day. In honour of their daughter, the couple had placed a small idol of Selûne at the sight – today a lit candle had been placed at its feet and an open tent set up just beside it.

“Do you think it could be Jen?” Emmeline’s voice croaked with renewed hope.

“It’s been so long, my love. I doubt she would remember this spot.” He soothed, trying to be realistic despite his swelling heart.

“But it could be her.”

“It could be, yes. But we must try not to get our hopes up.”

Not wishing to invade the privacy of the tent owner, despite how tempting it was, the couple set up a blanket on the forest floor, choosing to watch the birds in the trees and animals skittering through the bushes to pass the time.

And time passed.

The wind licked through the bark of the trees, picking up the woody scent and rustling the leaves. Clouds formed and passed over their heads, constantly changing, brightening and darkening the green tint of the clearing and eventually, the candle burned itself out.

The couple were determined to stay until they found the owner of the tent but waiting proved as tense as ever.

Then finally, a new sound caused their ears to perk.

The rustling of the bushes intensified, as though a larger animal were making its way toward them. Arnell stood to attention, placing his body in between the new sound and his wife. His heart rate ever-increasing as the sound grew closer.

A half-elven woman poked her head through the bushes, a confused and tense look plastering her face as she spotted the couple in the clearing. Arnell and Emmeline sat equally confused as they took in the woman before them. The woman had sharp, angular features, with chestnut hair flowing down one side of her face, and neatly braided on the other side. A long, angry scar ran down her face from her forehead to her cheek, cutting through her full eyebrow and missing her eyelid by a hair. Silver eyes, dulled to a grey by the shadows of the trees, flicked between them.

“Good evening.” She said politely but with caution. “I see you’ve found my camp. Is there something I can help you with?”

“This is your camp?” Arnell asked, his shoulders slumping in disappointment and his hand moving to comfort Emmeline knowing she would feel the same.

“It is.” The woman confirmed, her whole body seeming to relax realising they hadn’t found her on purpose.  “I’m sorry, were you expecting someone else?”

“Expecting is a strong word.” Arnell laughed sadly, “Hoping is probably more accurate. I’m sorry, please allow us to get out of your way.”

The woman stepped out of the bushes and faced the couple in her entirety, swinging the carcass of a deer over her shoulder and flopping it onto the floor. She looked tired, but deadly – adorned in a sharp, black leather armour made for speed and agility that sat tight against strong muscles, with bracers cutting off at her wrists to allow full movement of her fingers – a ranger. A hunter.

“Who were you hoping for?”

Emmeline lifted her hand to Arnell’s arm in a silent command. They had asked countless adventurers to help them over the years, ranging from brave townspeople to members of the flaming fist themselves, but none had proven successful – they had either given up after finding no clues, or they had not returned at all. Whether they had died in their attempt to find Jenevelle, or simply run off with the Hallowleaf’s money, they could never be sure.

But they refused to stop trying.

“Our daughter” Arnell stated, finding his voice as his fingers seeking to entwine with his wife’s for comfort as he prepared himself to divulge the details of her disappearance. “She was taken from this very spot forty years ago today.”

“A coming of age ceremony?” The woman asked.

“Yes… by Sharran forces.”

“I see. You were hoping she may return here?” She asked, kneeling down to rummage through her rucksack.

“Perhaps foolishly so.” Arnell confirmed, beginning to stand to help Emmeline up.

“Hope is never foolish.” The woman interjected, silver eyes catching a ray of sun and bearing into their souls. “That’s all we have in defence of Shar.”

“We?” Arnell asked, confused until the woman pulled a moonstone pendant from behind her armour. She stood slowly, extending her arm to pass him a candle, her eyes flicking to the now extinguished one at the feet of the idol.

“Please, stay, don’t let me interrupt your evening. I can easily move my camp.”

Arnell took the offered candle, twisting it in his fingers before looking up to capture the woman’s eyes once more.

“No, please, perhaps we could all stay and enjoy the evening together. I believe the moon will be bright tonight.”

The woman smiled in response, producing some firewood from her rucksack and placing it in a neat pile on the ground, ensuring to swipe any dried leaves from its vicinity.

“I’d be delighted…” She gave a questioning look.

“Arnell Hallowleaf, and this is my lovely wife Emmeline.”

“A pleasure to make you acquaintance. I’m Tav.”

“So, what brings you out here, Tav?” He asked innocently, but couldn’t mistake the way Tav’s body tensed at the question.

“I mean to reach Baldur’s Gate.” She stated, friendly enough but leaving little room for questions, keeping her eyes trained on the pile of wood as she expertly turned it into a campfire.

“Do you know the city well?” Arnell asked, renewed hope sparking in his chest. They had received little information about their daughter over the decades, but had been informed that she was likely to have been taken to the city.

“It’ll be my first time travelling there… Why do you ask?” Tav quirked her eyebrow, sensing there was more to his question than he was letting on.

“Are you a good hunter, Tav? Do your skills extend to the city as well as they do to the wilds?”

“You wish for me to find your daughter?” Tav stood now, shifting herself to skin the deer she had hunted, the young flames of the campfire illuminating her face in a warm light with the dying sun. “You’ve only just met me.”

“I know these woods.” Arnell smiled, “Hunting here is no easy feat. It takes a hunter with great skill to make such a kill.”

Tav smiled warmly at him in response.

“Besides, if you are new to the city, no one will know you. You might be able to track down our daughter if she still resides with the Sharrans.”

“You wish for me to infiltrate a Sharran cloister?” Tav’s smile turned to a concerned, breathy chuckle. “That’s… an incredibly dangerous task.”

“You need not say yes if you think it’s too much.” Emmeline assured her. “We’ve been searching for forty years, but venturing into Baldur’s Gate to find Jen ourselves would be suicide.”

“They know our faces, you see.” Arnell added. “The night Jenevelle was taken, we found a Sharran spy in our village who told us our daughter was the target. I chased after her, but I was defeated in combat trying to protect her.”

Tav smiled sadly, catching their eyes for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

“You seem like good parents…”

“It’s all we ever tried to be.” Arnell offered a sad smile back.

Tav paused her task, relaxing her position on the ground to look up at the couple with wistful eyes.

“Your daughter is lucky to have you searching for her after all this time... I admit, although my family are searching for me, it’s not for the same loving reasons. If I were to risk myself in such a manner, it would matter little if I made it back out.”

The couple wanted to protest – comfort the woman who had already shown them so much kindness, but how could they protest when they had only just met her? When protesting might mean their daughter remained lost.

Instead, Arnell raised himself from their blanket and took the dagger from Tav’s hand, silently continuing her work.

“Do you like apple and plum pie, Tav?” Emmeline asked, rifling through the basket they had brought with them.

“I do.” Tav smiled, graciously taking the slice offered to her and taking a moment before speaking again. “And I’m sure your daughter will, too, when I return her to you.”

Tav felt uncomfortable walking through the gates of the city, having chosen to strip herself of her expensive armour and weapons in favour of simple slim-line trousers, a cotton shirt, and armed with a hand-made dagger and bow. She had left everything but some coin and a small bag with the Hallowleafs, promising to return for them with their daughter in tow, and asking for no payment but another slice of pie.

Tav’s own equipment was expensive, bespoke, and incredibly good quality – a gift from the legacy of her father – a legacy that she despised. But it also made her stand out like a sore thumb amongst the regular citizens of Baldur’s Gate, likely drawing more attention than she wished to garner. She needed to catch the interest of the Sharrans without raising any eyebrows and much to her annoyance, walking into the city fully equipped would make her seem like more of a threat or more useful to them than she wanted. And so Tav had crafted herself a new identity, a concept that wasn’t as new to her as she would have liked – rather than the absconded heir to her father’s throne in a country thousands of miles away, or the stranger who was kind to a couple in the forest, Tav was now a poor hunter, having fallen on hard times after the death of her family, visiting the city (and its taverns) in hopes of drowning her sorrows and finding some work.

The perfect prey for Shar’s church.

Tav knew little of the woman she was looking for, her parents hadn’t seen her since she was a child but were able to show drawings of what she looked like all those decades ago. Her key features being raven hair, olive green eyes, and a scar across her face from an injury she sustained on the day she was abducted.

With a tired huff, she sidled up to the bar in the Elfsong Tavern, copper coins clinking as she placed them on the counter. In the early afternoon, it was busy enough to blend in without being missed completely.

“Ale, please.” She said, keeping her body tense and her arms crossed.

“What kind of ale?” The bartender huffed, not hiding the chip on his shoulder.

“The alcoholic kind.” She responded, letting annoyance tinge her voice.

“You need more coppers than those, mate. Five more.” He smirked, and Tav was sure she was being overcharged. Most new faces in the taverns in the lower city were either down on their luck, dock workers who had just been paid, or tourists with money to burn. He was clearly convinced she was one of the latter – she had to convince him otherwise.

“That’s daytime robbery.” She complained, letting her voice raise just enough without causing a scene.

“It is what it is, mate. Either pay up or fuck off.”

Tav eyed him over, wishing so hard that she could break character, grab him by the collar and smash his face into the counter… but that would cause too much of a scene. If she knew anything about Shar’s followers, they stuck to the shadows and valued discretion above all – causing a scene would catch their attention in all the worst ways.

So, she sighed and let her head dip into her hands, ruffling her hair before reaching into her pocket and letting two more copper pieces fall onto the counter.

“I can do two more.”

“Fine.” He said after deliberating, clearly happy with his extortion of her for the day.

“But it’ll be discounted next time.” Tav’s silver eyes pierced his own, her finger pressing his hand into the counter as he moved to take the coins. Having mastered the bow and arrow over thirty years, just one of Tav’s fingers on his knuckle was enough pressure to cause the man’s voice to strain with discomfort.

“Fine.” He said quickly, eyes moving away quickly to avoid Tav’s gaze, pulling his hand away as soon as Tav released the pressure and quickly producing a mug of ale.

Tav hid the small smirk of victory that tried to cross her face, trying to maintain the air of sadness she hoped would get her spotted. To add to the effect, she found a dark corner to plop herself in, holding her head in her hands as she nursed her warm ale.

There she waited, but acting sad became unnecessary as her thoughts drifted to home.

Korella. A beautiful, expansive, coastal land of snowy mountains and bustling pine forests, marred by the tyrannical rule of her father, King Aldan, for decades. There, Tav had taken her place as Kyra, the second child of the human king and elven queen. She had been given the name Tav by her older brother and previous heir, Ryn, on the day she was born and it had stuck with her for her entire life, giving her an identity beyond that of ‘the princess in the castle’.

Tav detested her royal blood.

Tav detested everything about her status. She detested the balls, the dresses she was forced to wear, the politics. Most of all she detested her father, but then he detested everyone in kind.

Tav’s mother had died in childbirth, turning her father from a ‘loving man’ to a ‘shell of his former self’ according to her tutors. Tav couldn’t see any version of her father who wasn’t hateful and tyrannical. Ryn would save her from being around him most days, steeling her into the wilds of Korella to give her an identity beyond the castle – training her in the ways of the Rogue and the Ranger, adding to her Fighter training received within the castle walls. She was relatively happy with the set-up, avoiding her father and running away to hunt in the forests, but the people of Korella were more than displeased with her father’s ruling. Tensions had risen enough over the years that protests turned to riots – the people eventually outnumbered her father’s guard, aiming to remove him from the throne – forcefully. They intended to crown Ryn in his place – the prince was known for his compassion and a much more popular choice than Aldan. But in a fit of jealousy, the king had run him through with a sword, killing him in the throne room of the castle, before turning his ire towards Kyra, catching her face and plunging the sword into her stomach before being cut down himself.

And so, their royal line was over – at least officially.

Tav had awoken in the midst of the chaos, placed lovingly beside the body of her brother in preparation for their burial. It was easier just to run and never look back – so she did. Everyone had assumed her body had been stolen.

She didn’t intend to prove them wrong.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A gentle voice broke Tav from her haze and her head snapped up from the sound. Before her stood a beautiful Tiefling woman with long, flowing violet locks framing the soft features of her face. She was beautiful.

“Sorry?” Tav replied, realising she had zoned out more than she had wished to and she kicked herself for potentially missing any signs of Sharrans in the tavern.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The woman smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked at Tav with a mixture of interest, concern and…lust? “I’m Alfira. I noticed you brooding here in the corner on your own and wondered if I might be able to buy you a drink?”

“Oh… Th-thank you, but I’m alright. I’m not sure if I’d be the best company tonight.” Tav tried to stay in character (if it was a character at all), but part of her was intrigued by the woman in front of her, and she had been on the road for so long that she ached for company. Maybe she could have one last night of fun before she plunged herself into the darkness of Shar’s embrace. Maybe succumbing to temptation would give any Sharrans watching a sense of the desperation they sought in their victims.

“You seem rather deep in thought.” Alfira mused, placing a goblet of wine down on the table and taking a seat opposite. She leaned her elbows on the table and eyed Tav with a quiet intensity, twirling a strand of hair between slender fingers.

“I suppose I am.” Tav’s eyebrows quirked, her own interest piquing as the woman seemed to completely ignore her wish to be alone… Why? Was she the Sharran Tav was hoping would approach?

“I like deep thinkers.” Alfira drawled, catching her lips between her teeth and glancing up at Tav through fluttering eyelashes. What was her game? “They make the best lovers.”

Tav took a second to regain her composure before responding – initially caught off guard and slightly panicked, but should any Sharrans be in earshot, she couldn’t let on that she was anything but calm, collected, and capable of gaining the upper hand.

“Far be it from me to prove you wrong,” Tav smirked, holding Alfira’s intense eyes with her own as she weighed up her options. As much as she would have liked to fall into bed with the woman before her, doing so might make her look weak to any on-looking Sharrans, as if she may crumble at the first temptation. She was sure she was overthinking it at this point - other than a pale elf who was very obviously a vampire on the hunt, she was yet to see anyone who looked that nefarious. “But it’s a shame I have to leave you wanting.”

The woman before her pouted in response.

“Does that mean I have to succumb to conversation to try and get into your small clothes?”

Tav couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at her response. If she wasn’t planning on infiltrating a Sharran cloister Alfira might have had a chance – but she wasn’t that cruel.

“I suppose it does,” Tav grinned, “But, as I said previously, I don’t think I’d be the best company tonight, so you’ll have to win me over in that respect as well, I’m afraid.”

“You’re really making me work for this, aren’t you?” Alfira flashed her a devilish smile, “Fine, what’s your poison?”

“Apple juice?” Tav asked innocently.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Alfira snorted.

“Guilty. I’ll take an ale, please. Let the guy behind the bar know you’re with me and he’ll give you a discount.”

“You mean Jendrik?” Alfira’s face dropped its look of humour in favour of one of shock. “How did you pull that off? He’s got a pole up his arse long enough to pour ale if you bent it.”

“Is that why it tasted so weird?” Tav teased, “I have my ways.”

“Well, I’m impressed.” A quirk in the Tiefling’s eyebrow showed she wasn’t lying. Tav smiled at her as she walked off, catching a flash of a figure in black turning their head quickly away from their direction.

The night passed quickly and without incident. Although Tav had been careful not to let her guard down while she sat across from Alfira, she couldn’t help but find comfort in her presence, leading her to drink more than was sensible when trying to catch the attention of Sharrans. Still, they talked long into the night, long after anyone who Tav might have suspected to be Sharran had left, and so she felt a sense of safety in being able to walk the woman home. It was only when Tav stepped into the fresh air that Tav realised just how careless he had been. The two women walked along the cobbled streets of the city, swaying gently with the alcohol in their system as if a strong breeze could cause them to topple. Tav made a concerted effort not to slur her words as she spoke, walking almost perfectly in a straight line as she placed one foot in front of the other.

Night held a solid grip over the city and cloud covered the sky like a blanket, blocking out the comfort of the moon. Tav might have felt uncomfortable, if not for the gentle glow of the streetlights and the warmth of the alcohol coursing through her system.

“This is me.” Alfira sighed as they came to a stop outside a cottage. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“Think nothing of it. I’m glad you’re back safe.” Tav smiled.

“What if I want to think something of it?” Alfira challenged, closing the gap between them. “It’s ever so kind of you to walk me home, after all. It would be unbecoming of me to send you home alone on such a dark night.”

“Trust me, I’m more than capable of making my way back to Elf Song alone. I appreciate the sentiment, though.”

“Gods, you are making me work for it.” Alfira laughed, defeated. “But I can’t send you home empty-handed at least.” Alfira moved closer still, closing any remaining distance between their bodies as she reached a soft hand up to cup Tav’s cheek, pulling her down to meet softer lips. Tav allowed herself to be swept away in the moment, closing her eyes and parting her lips to meet Alfira’s. She breathed in when their lips met, smelling the scent of berries and alcohol on her breath from the wine she had been drinking all night. Her body offered warmth against the chill against the cold of the evening, but Tav couldn’t let herself go any further. She smiled sadly as she pulled away from the kiss.

“You know, as much as you said you wouldn’t be good company tonight, I found myself enjoying every minute I spent with you. I hope we can do it again, sometime.” For all of the bravado that Alfira had shown that evening, a genuine look crossed her face. All it did was fill Tav with a sense of guilt.

“I wish it could be so,” Tav offered, not a hint of a lie in her voice, “but I don’t think I’ll be in the city long enough for that to happen.”

“Well then, it’s only a shame we couldn’t spend more time together. Goodbye, Tav.” Alfira placed a final kiss on Tav’s cheek as she turned to walk through the door of her house.

And then Tav was alone again. She huffed as she rubbed her eyes, trying to get them to focus properly on the road for her walk back, and she cursed herself for letting her guard down.

And then she wasn’t alone.

“A touching display.” A new voice – a woman’s voice called out from the darkness. Having practically grown up in the wilds, Tav’s instincts were usually razor-sharp, but she hadn’t noticed another presence in her drunken state. How long had this woman been following her? She turned around to face the origin of the voice, hand instinctively reaching for the dagger attached to her thigh.

“Oh relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” The woman laughed, stepping out of the darkness and Tav’s breath caught in her throat. Alfira was beautiful, but this woman before her was… transcendent. The first thing that struck Tav was her hair – hair as dark as the night was tied into a harsh ponytail, tied together with what appeared to be dainty silver chains. Her fringe parted in the middle, framing the high cheekbones and defined jaw that could only be the result of elven heritage. Her eyes were a piercing shade of olive green, shining in the light of the streetlamps and looking at her in almost a predatory manner. The woman’s face was marred with a faint scar that ran across her cheek and crept over her nose. Her full lips were pulled into a playful smirk, and her eyebrows arched to accentuate her expression – she appeared to be challenging Tav. Tav allowed her eyes to roam across the woman’s body, following the curve of the black top which plunged between her breasts, and appreciating the way the fabric hugged every curve. “Unless you want me to.” The woman added. Tav couldn’t help but find the woman’s features somewhat familiar, but in her drunken state, she couldn’t quite figure out why.

“I’d rather not subject myself to any more pain.” Tav stated blankly, trying not to let her voice or body language betray how fast her heart was beating.

“No. You’re doing a fine job of subjecting yourself to enough as it is.” The woman’s smirk grew.

“What do you want?”  Tav stood her ground, but cursed herself when her cheeks warmed at the sight of green eyes roaming across her figure.

“Many things.” She stated plainly, raising her eyes once more to meet Tav’s. “But let’s start with that pain, shall we? What is it that burdens you?”

“Why would I tell you that?” Tav was certain this was one of the Sharrans she had been hoping to catch the attention of. She couldn’t let herself show weakness.

“Oh, please.” The woman said, stepping into Tav’s space and teasingly running a single finger down her arm, following its trail with her eyes. “I’ve been watching you all evening. I saw the way you challenged the bartender, the distant look in your eyes when you were drowning your sorrows, the way you looked at that Tiefling like a puppy. She was practically throwing herself at you, and yet you didn’t give her what she wanted. Either you’re not into women, or you don’t feel as though you deserve a night of pleasure.” The woman moved further into Tav’s personal space, lifting her lips to graze along the lobe of her ear as she whispered. “And with the way your eyes are devouring me, I’m quite confident you’re interested in women.”

Tav felt a chill run down her spine, spreading across her body and causing a wave of goosebumps to rise across her skin. With the sleeves of her shirt rolled up, her arms – and secrets – were exposed. The woman’s smirk only grew as she noticed.

“See what I mean?” She leaned back, fingering the collar of Tav’s shirt. “I can read you like a book. All you want is for a beautiful woman to notice you – to know you. Well, you have my attention now… and I can take all the pain away.”

“What’s the catch?” Tav asked, feigning ignorance, but eyeing her with a suspicion as if she wasn’t aware the woman was a Sharran.

“No catch.” The woman said with the first genuine look Tav had seen from her – she truly believed what she was selling. “Have you ever heard of the House of Grief?”

“I can’t say that I have.” Tav hummed, furrowing her brows at the woman. “What could I find there?”

“Salvation…and me.” The woman caught her bottom lip between her teeth in a teasing smirk, and Tav couldn’t help but feel intrigued. The House of Grief was where she needed to go, but finding this woman there too might be an added bonus.

“Then, I’ll be there.” Tav flashed a smirk of her own, keeping silver eyes trained on green. In her inebriated state, she thought she saw the woman’s cheeks begin to redden, but decided she must have been seeing things.

“Good.” The woman grinned, “I’ll await your presence eagerly.”

And then she was gone.

And the darkness of the night suddenly wasn’t as unsettling.

Tav stood at the threshold of the House of Grief, slightly worse for wear after her night of drinking with Alfira and her inability to sleep thanks to the mysterious woman taking up residence in her mind all night. Still, she filled her lungs with the freshness of the air that surrounded the House of Grief. It truly was a beautiful part of the city – surprisingly quiet for the lower city and placed right beside a small winding stream carrying water down to the Chionthar. It was easy to see why people came here to ease their inner turmoil. The building itself looked welcoming enough – no Sharran iconography adorned its walls like with Selûnite churches. The ivy creeping up the walls gave the building a homely feel, adding to the serenity of its surroundings. Tav could have easily found herself taking some time to relax in the garden beside the building if she wasn’t painfully aware of the building’s purpose.

“Welcome to the House of Grief. Are you here to be unburdened?” A blonde elf smiled warmly, but sadly at her as she gathered the courage to cross the threshold of the building. “Whatever ails the heart, whatever weighs upon the soul – we can help.”

“It’s a beautiful place you have here.” Tav thought out loud, admiring the homely feeling they had cultivated on the inside of the building as well as outside.

“It’s a beautiful service we offer, easing the burdens of those in pain. We unburden people of the suffering in their hearts: melancholy, anger, self-doubt, troubling memories, and of course, as the name suggests, grief. Tell me, Sister, what troubles you? Have you lost someone? Has someone done you harm? Do you seek vengeance or freedom?”

“Both, perhaps?” Tav sighed, perhaps more honestly than she would have realised, although getting revenge on a dead man was impossible, she did wish for freedom from memories of her past. If she was going to gain access to the cloister, she needed to play their game – even if that meant being more truthful than she had intended.

“In that case, I think you could benefit from our help. In fact, I think you desperately need our help. I sense… turmoil in you, even if you cannot bring yourself to admit it.”

“What makes you so certain of my desperation?” Tav asked, quirking her eyebrows and raising her guard. The change in body language did not go unnoticed by the woman.

“Forgive me, I did not intend to make you uncomfortable. A great deal of people in need have entered that door. In my time, I’ve come to recognise their suffering – I recognise the same look in your eyes.” She paused, and Tav steeled her gaze defensively. It had been over a year since the events at the castle – she knew the memories still haunted her, and the pain of losing her brother still hurt as though he had died yesterday, but could this woman really see the pain behind her eyes, or was it just a ruse, knowing that most who stepped through the door would do so out of desperation. “Admitting you have a problem is the first step – the hardest step.” The woman interrupted her thoughts, seeming to sense the questions running through Tav’s mind. “After that, we will be by your side.”

Tav had to admit it, much like the woman who had accosted her the previous night, this woman also seemed genuine – as if she truly believed what she was saying. But her lack of mentioning Shar made Tav wonder what else she was hiding.

“I’m curious to understand why you think you know so much about me?” Tav challenged, if she wanted to go undercover as a new recruit, she wanted to make them want her rather than playing hard to get. The stronger she appeared, the easier this would be.

“The insight of an unburdened spirit. I too was once weighed down, but now I am free. Before I came here, I was given to drunkenness, wanton violence and licentiousness of every sort… but now I am saved. As you can be.”

Nothing had ever sounded so unappealing to Tav in her life, and that included her father attempting to marry her off to a noble. If the previous night had shown anything, Tav was quite partial to drunkenness – and wanton violence had its place every here and there, too. Every fibre in Tav’s body screamed at her to run, Shar’s church was no orderly, benevolent religion like Selûne’s – she was walking willingly into a cult.

Tav stood in silence, looking at the woman quizzically with her arms folded across her chest. She gave away no emotion and no hint of acceptance. She only waited in the silence for the woman to grow uncomfortable and give away the next move.

“I… I cannot force you.” She began, unable to meet Tav’s intense glare for too long. “But perhaps you can look inwards and be true to yourself. You may not like what you see when you put yourself under scrutiny. But we can show you how to love yourself.”

Pathetic. They almost made it sound appealing – as if they would pick people up when they were at their lowest and nurse them back to health, as though they were doctors. But they weren’t. Shar’s church prayed on the innocent – the vulnerable, those with but the remnants of hope for a better future. The woman spoke to Tav as though she knew nothing – as though Tav hadn’t put herself under scrutiny every single day when her father showed obvious favouritism for her brother, purely because her mother had died giving birth to her. She spoke to Tav as though she hadn’t put herself under scrutiny every single day since her father had killed her brother and attempted to kill her. If she had only moved faster, struck harder… if only it had been her instead of him, Ryn would be alive – Korella would have the king they wished for. Love didn’t exist in Shar’s domain, but with Selûne as her guide, Tav would be damned if she let the last of her love die off. She loved herself as much as she was able to – she owed that much to Ryn.

“I’ve never been familiar with the concept of loving myself.” Tav smiled sadly, but seethed on the inside. Acting as though she was open to all this Sharran bullshit might be harder than she had imagined. “What do I need to do?”

The woman smiled warmly back at her. Tav felt her stomach churn.

Tav placed herself down on the stone bench in the centre of the new room. Despite having no windows, the candlelight made the room surprisingly bright – although the dark paintings hung on the walls appeared to suck in the light as it hit them. Tav could spot nothing in the room that appeared overtly Sharran, but despite the warm tones of the candles, rugs and furnishings, a cold chill hung in the air accompanied by an eerie sense that she was being watched. Her time spent in the wilds with her brother as a child had taught her to recognise the feeling of being watched by a predator, and the same prickling chill she felt when faced with a wolf ran down her spine within the room.

From the corner of her eye, a black figure appeared on the bench beside her, clad in black and gold hooded robes which parted on the curve of feminine hips to reveal pale greyish-purple skin. A Drow.

“Do not look upon me.” The figure said and Tav snapped her eyes forward in obedience. The voice was different to the one from the woman she had met last night, but held the same air of authority within it. Other than being beautiful, Tav couldn’t quite remember what she looked like. She was unsure if that was because of the alcohol or because the woman had made her heart beat so fast that her vision had blurred. Her heart beat just a little faster at the thought she might see her again. “This is your time, not mine. Look inward. See what will be discovered.”

Tav closed her eyes and steadied her breathing – now was not the time for distractions.

“You are here because something grieves you. Perhaps you know what it is. Perhaps you merely think you know. It matters not. The Mapping will reveal your heart form. Then the healing can begin. Answer the questions I put to you. And answer honestly – the lips may try to deceive, but the heart will offer the truth, in the end. Let us begin.”

Silence hung over them momentarily and Tav felt suffocated under its weight. She had to try and maintain her ruse of being a simple hunter without lying, or the woman beside her would surely know – and any chance of finding the Hallowleaf’s daughter would be lost. She was going to hate this.

“What last caused you to shed a tear?”

This was an easy start – adrenaline alone had carried her through her final moments and ‘Kyra’, leaving her so focused on survival and escape that she barely had time to think, let alone cry. Still, once she reached safety, tears still refused to fall. It was only after a month or two on the road, when she thought she might be able to start healing – to look for a new life as ‘Tav’, that tears finally found their grip. It was a good thing she found herself in the middle of nowhere at the time, or the sounds that escaped her throat that day might have made a town think a murder was occurring. Afterwards, she felt numb, and she had felt little but that numbness since.

“Grief.” She stated. A truth for both herself and the alter ago she had crafted.

“The second question. What is your unspoken desire.”

Suddenly memories flashed through her mind – piercing green eyes looking into her own with wanton desire, followed by the warm tickle of breath across her neck and honeyed words whispered in her ear.

“I can read you like a book. All you want is for a beautiful woman to notice you – to know you.”

For a moment Tav was confused – this was a memory of the woman from last night. Why was it resurfacing now?

Despite her confusion, she could use this. Tav had spent her entire life living in the shadow of her brother and haunted by the ghost of her mother. She imagined her alter ego would have had similar traumas.

“To be wanted.” A sad truth – one that hurt to admit.

“What is your greatest fear?”

This one was harder to think of – her home, her brother and her friends were lost to her. All of her fears had already come true.

“To be vulnerable.” Was all she could think of. Tav wasn’t sure if she could ever have something, or someone again and not worry about losing them.

“Question four. How would you spite someone who wronged you?”

Tav held back a bitter laugh, how could she spite a dead man? He had wronged her for her entire life, and yet she had done nothing but avoid him whenever she could, only raising a hand to strike him when he lifted a finger against her brother.

But if she could do it all again?

“I’d make it painful – slow.” She growled through bared teeth.

“And the final question. How would you feel if all your burdens were lifted?”

The concept was foreign to Tav – She had been burdened by the loss of her mother for her entire life, and now she had the additional burden of her father’s action and her brother’s death. The thought of these burdens being lifted was inconceivable – impossible. She would not be the same person without them.

“The person I am today would cease to exist… but I suppose I would be at peace.”

She answered without thinking – would this answer fit the alter ego she had crafted?

Regardless, it appeared to satisfy the woman sat beside her.

“I see.” She stated simply, taking a moment to craft a response. “You possess a melancholy heart. A smile is a stranger upon your lips. You do not know what you are missing, but you miss it, nonetheless. This is something we can help with.”

The woman moved beside her, rising off the bench to remove her hood. Tav allowed her body to follow the movement. The woman was a Drow indeed. A few wrinkles on her face gave an idea of the woman’s age, and her hair was white as snow.

“I am Viconia DeVir. The House of Grief is mine, but what lies beneath… that belongs to my mistress, and that is where you must go.”

With an explosion of indigo mist, the woman, Viconia, disappeared, and the brick wall in front of where Tav sat opened to reveal a hidden passage.

This was the moment she had been waiting for. Tav stood, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself. With one final, silent prayer to Selûne, she stepped into the darkness.

Chapter Text

Confusion ran through Tav’s mind as she regained consciousness and slowly opened her heavy eyelids. She hadn’t remembered falling asleep but here she was, tucked up soundly in a Sharran bed, her clothes and bag in a neat pile on a bedside table beside her.

The room was quiet, but she could hear the soft and low chanting of prayers echoing through the halls of the cloister. The air was cool and slightly damp from being so deep underground, yet the room felt oddly warm and welcoming thanks to the lingering smoke of incense and a warm purple glow illuminating the space. The room was made up of black polished stone floors and walls with intricate black and purple ceilings, candelabras, lamps and purple rugs and tapestries adorned with golden thread.

Tav had no idea Sharrans cared so much for interior design.

Taking a closer look around the room, Tav noticed that her bed was one of six, all host to their own blanket-covered humanoid lumps, hers being in a corner furthest away from the door. She attempted to crane her neck to see any of the telling features of gender or race of the other bed’s occupants, but a sudden twinge in her shoulder caused her to wince in pain and plop back down into her pillow. Her confusion grew as she ran her hand over the area, feeling swollen flash around a deep gash in her skin. The wound was still so fresh that blood tinged her fingers red.

How in the nine hells had that happened?

Just as she made a move to scan the rest of her body for injuries, the doors to the room swung open and a woman adorned in black and golden hooded robes with… revealing thigh-high slits and an eerie white mask strolled into the room – so silently that Tav wouldn’t have known she was there if the doors hadn’t signalled her entry. None of the other bodies made a move to suggest they were even awake, let alone that they had noticed the new person enter the room.

The woman loudly cleared her voice before she spoke.

“Good evening, Initiates.” Her voice carried to Tav’s corner of the room as if she was standing right beside her. She noticed the other bodies begin the move at the noise. “Welcome to the Cloister of the Sombre Embrace. I am Fidelian Lamona and I am one of the Nightsinger’s most prominent mages.” She enunciated the words with a sickening pride, and Tav swore she could see a smirk beneath her mask. “After the Mapping of the Heart, you may be wondering how you ended up here. I would like to invite you to get dressed and follow me.”

Tav winced again as she pushed herself into a seated position. She was relieved to see her small clothes had been kept on her body, but they appeared red in patches and stuck to her skin where blood had dried. Bruises covered her arms and torso along with large gashes and smaller cuts. She stared at her body until a voice broke her from her haze.

“You look a bit rough there, friend. Are you alright?” A man asked – human, Tav noticed. Her head snapped up at the voice, twinging her shoulder once more and causing a hiss to escape her lips this time. She took her opportunity to scan the room again – along with the man who had addressed her, there was another human, a Drow, a wood-elf and a half-elf – just like her.

“I don’t know what happened to me.” Tav muttered, returning her gaze to her battered body, before slowly lifting herself from the bed to get dressed. Her muscles strained and burned in protest with the simplest of movements, but she persisted, slipping her trousers on with great effort.

“Here, let me help you.” The man said, and Tav shot him a wary look. He was a Sharran initiate, why was he trying to help her? Sharrans jumped on any weakness they could find in the people around them. “I mean no ill will, I promise.” The man said, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m Andrick. You are?”

“Tav.” Tav relented, lowering her guard enough to let Andrick slip her arms through the sleeves of her shirt and lower it gently over her head.

“Well, Tav, those wounds will need seeing to. I don’t know who you pissed off to get them, but they look rather… painful.”

“Yep, I can attest to that.” Tav chuckled through another wince as she leaned down to grab her boots. Andrick moved faster, encouraging her to sit down as he slipped the boots over her feet.

“Thank you.” Tav offered a genuine, but small smile as he helped her to stand once more. “You’re kind. You remind me of my brother.”

“Flattered.” Andrick grinned cheekily in a way that made her heart ache for her dead sibling. “I imagine he’s incredibly handsome and carving his way across the Sword Coast on a golden steed?” He joked, but Tav’s face falling told him all he needed to know before she spoke again.

“He’s dead.” She said, trying not to appear small and weak in front of the initiates.

“Oh… Oh Gods, I’m sorry. What a fool.” Andrick paused. “Is that why you’re here? Because you have no hope for life left after his death?”

 Tav flashed him another wary look. His interest in her life appeared suspicious – either he was trying to butter her up to cut her down later, or he wasn’t here for the same reasons as the other initiates.

“I suppose… in a way.” She gave little away.

“Well, between you and me.” He whispered, getting close enough to her that no one else could hear their conversation. “There’s much more hope left in life than what they promise you within these walls. I suggest you run as soon as you can.”

He stood back once more, creating distance between the two and checking no one else was watching.

“Well, I hope you feel better, anyway. I’m sure we’ll be fast friends.”

Tav was at the back of the group as they followed Fidelian Lamona into what appeared to be a large ceremony hall. The room was made from the same black polished stone throughout the cloister, adorned with the same tapestries and light sources, except here the floors were left bare and an almost imperceptible scent of iron filled the air, covered up by the heavy smell of woody incense. They were ushered to line up in the middle of the room and face the front, where three armoured figures with golden, haloed masks stood behind the Drow woman she recognised from the Mapping of the Heart. Viconia DeVir. The door closed with a gentle thud behind them, and Fidelian Lamona joined a semi-circle around the six of them of people dressed just like her.

The air hung heavy in the stone room as Viconia dragged her eyes along each and every one of them, appearing to linger on particular people indiscriminately – luckily she wasn’t one of them.

“Welcome, initiates.” She began with a wicked smile, raising her hands in a prayer-like manner. “Welcome to the Cloister of the Sombre Embrace. My Cloister. You see, I built this place from the ground up with guidance from Lady Shar herself. You find yourself one of the honoured few to be among her halls. Although, not all of you will make it out alive.”

Her smirk grew as she began to slowly pace across the platform.

“You may have realised your memories have failed you between when you first entered through the doors of the cloister until you woke up in your bed. Worry not, as this was all for a reason. You see, as a cloister dedicated to the worship of the Nightsinger, we naturally attract a number of enemies to our door. We can never be too careful. As such, for your first test of loyalty to the Mistress of the Night, you have all been subject to torture to establish your true reasons for entering through our doors. Your memories have been wiped to ensure that if you had treacherous intentions, your mind will continue to torture you up to the point you are paraded in front of the cloister to face your punishment.”

Tav’s heart dropped to her stomach as she realised the meaning behind Viconia’s words. Suddenly it all made sense – she couldn’t remember the torture, she couldn’t remember what she said – she had been left marked by the experience whereas the others were completely free of injury. She must have folded under pressure and told them her true reasons for being here.

She was going to die.

But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She tensed her jaw and steadied her breathing, refusing to let her body language show that she was scared in what could be her final moments.

“Sentries! Bring them forward.” Viconia gestured behind the group and Tav tried not to let her panic show as she heard the pounding of armoured boots behind them. It took what seemed to be an eternity before their footsteps appeared behind her. Her body tensed as she anticipated being grabbed, or shoved to the floor, but nothing came – instead her head whipped around as she saw a burlap sack get thrown over the head of Andrick and the other human stood further down the line. Andrick let out a gasp of horror as he was shoved on his knees in front of the Mother Superior.

“My followers!” Viconia addressed the room. “I present before you two Selûnite spies, sent here by the Moon Witch herself.”

Suddenly the room was alive with the sounds of chatter from the people surrounding them, each one wearing a mask, but their eyes shone hungrily through the slits. Tav watched on in horror as the man who had reminded her of her brother knelt defencelessly in front of the room of Sharrans – it made so much sense now. He had been kind to her because he was a Selûnite – a good one, it seemed, to offer help freely in a place such as this. But sadly, he proved to be a shit spy – shit enough to get himself killed almost immediately.

“Initiates.” The Mother Superior addressed the line of four. “It is one of the most sacred acts we can do to take the life of a Selûnite. You have all proved your loyalty in the torture chamber. Which of you wish to have this honour?”

Two hands shot up immediately from the line – the wood elf and the Drow had eager looks plastered over their faces. The other half-elf appeared stoic, but Tav didn’t miss the wisps of sadness that glossed over their eyes.

“Sera and Warren. So eager. Please, step forward.” Viconia instructed, “But before I allow you the honour of slaughtering these Selûnites – Tav, Riley, why did you not put yourselves forward?”

Caught off guard, Tav’s breath caught in her throat and her mind drew a blank. Still reeling not being discovered. She hadn’t expected to be addressed so soon.

“Forgive me, Mother Superior.” The other half-elf, Riley, spoke first. “I sought Lady Shar’s embrace as I recently lost everything important to me – my family, my home, my love. I came to try and embrace their loss, embrace the pain so that I might make something of myself rather than allow myself to turn into a mess. While I did anticipate this sort of act going forward, I’m not quite prepared to kill so soon after losing my life. I truly hope you can understand.” Riley stated, their face remaining stoic throughout. Tav couldn’t tell if they were being truthful or not, but regardless their speech appeared to take Mother Superior’s attention away from her.

But not enough to move the piercing gaze she felt coming from behind one of the golden masks on the platform.

“Weak, Riley.” She chastised the half-elf. “But I respect your reasoning, even if I don’t agree with it. It’s only through loss and pain that we can truly experience Lady Shar’s embrace. Loss comes in many forms – the most common and sacred of which is taking a life. I do hope you won’t disappoint me again.”

Viconia moved forward to the edge of the platform and stood menacingly over the still-kneeling humans. A flick of her head summoned the sentries to produce a dagger for both of the volunteers, each taking them in their hand with enough awe to appear as though they were holding a holy relic.

“I don’t want you both to think me unreasonable,” Viconia stated, addressing Tav and Riley once more. “I will allow you not to volunteer this time… but you will not look away as your fellow initiates slit the throats of these Selûnites. If you look away for even a second, you will join them dead on the floor. Do you understand?”

Tav saw Riley nod from the corner of her eye – she followed suit, keeping her eyes trained on Andrick’s back.

“Get on with it then.” Viconia instructed the two volunteers and, although she couldn’t see their faces, Tav could see the fear rack through their bodies.

Although the speed at which their hands had flung into the air had made it obvious that both of the initiates were equally desperate for the kill, they responded to the instruction in entirely different ways.

Sera, the wood elf, moved swiftly towards her target, the human woman that Tav hadn’t caught the name of. In a blink of an eye, she tore the burlap sack off the woman’s head, grabbed a handful of her hair and all but severed the woman’s head from her neck. Blood spurted meters away from the body as it slumped to the floor, covering Sera, Andrick and Warren and splatting onto the Mother Superior’s robes. The woman barely had time to register Viconia’s instruction before her life was stripped from her – lucky, in a way, to be afforded a quick death, even if it was brutal.

Andrick was not afforded the same mercy. Warren stalked behind him, dragging the blade lightly over his back as he stood to watch Sera carry out her work, a menacing smile covered his face which only grew when Andrick screamed at the splash of warm blood meeting his skin.

“Yeva, I’m so, so sorry.” He whimpered through his sobs, but his voice died in his throat when Warren kicked him to the floor.

“Shut up, worm.” He growled, grabbing Andrick’s collar and pulling him back onto his knees. Andrick began to whisper what sounded like Selûnite prayers as the burlap sack was ripped from his head. Like Sera, Warren grabbed a handful of his hair, but instead of slitting his throat immediately, he led the man’s gaze up to the Mother Superior looming over him. “I’m not going to allow you the privilege of looking in the Mother Superior’s eyes as your life slips away. I have something much better planned for you, Selûnite.”

Warren grabbed Andrick’s collar once more, pulling him off the floor enough to spin him around to face Tav.

“You and this one looked friendly this morning. What did she say? You reminded her of her brother? Her dead brother. Maybe she sensed treachery in you all along? Did you think she’d listen when you told her to run? That you could ally with her and she’d come to your rescue when you were inevitably found out for what you are?”

The words struck a chord in Tav as she met Andrick’s eyes. She wished she could have done those things for him, if she didn’t need to be here to find the Hallowleaf’s daughter, she would never have stepped through the door. If it didn’t mean certain death for both of them, she would strike down the Sharrans and escort him to safety. But Tav knew Andrick was a lost cause – just like Ryn had been.

She couldn’t save him.

She couldn’t even try.

“She’s a Sharran now,” Warren whispered into his ear, taunting him further as he held the dagger to his throat. “She’s everything you hate – and you will never see the light of your Moon Bitch again.”

Andrick’s eyes grew wider and his prayers died in his throat as Warren finally dug the blade into his throat, and Tav found it impossible not to hold his gaze as the life slipped from his eyes.

She knew the prayer he tried to whisper as his body crumpled to the floor. While she couldn’t finish it for him out loud, she repeated the words in her mind, hoping it could give his spirit some sort of guidance as he passed to the care of their goddess.

As the silver moon waxes and wanes, so too does all life. Trust in Her radiance, and know that all love alive under my light shall know my blessing. Turn to the moon, and she will be your true guide.

“What a lovely introduction, if a bit messy.” Viconia chirped up again. “Now we’ve cleared our ranks of Selûnites, I’d like to introduce you to the rest of the cloister. Note the sentries behind you – while I don’t doubt each of you is capable of protecting yourself, these are the people who protect not only the rest of the cloister, but also the building itself. The cloaked figures surrounding you are made up of other Sharran novices like yourselves and Fidelians, so dutifully introduced by Fidelian Lamona, who are Lady Shar’s spellcasters. And these three figures behind me are the elite of Lady Shar’s forces – Dark Justiciars. Lady Shar’s will personified. You will answer to them when I am not present. Dark Justiciar Nightmist is in charge of external operations. Dark Justiciar Owltalon is in charge of political relations, and Dark Justiciar Shadowheart will be in charge of conducting your training. You have an hour before your first lesson. I suggest you take the time to study in the library. Riley and Tav, you will clear up the bodies of the Selûnites.”

Viconia waltzed off the stage, followed by everyone else in the room but Tav, Riley and one of the Justiciars. ‘Shadowheart’, if this was the one Viconia said would train them. Her eyes, as green as the forest, shone through the small slits in her mask, unwavering from where Tav stood. Tav wondered if she had been staring at her this entire time. She wondered if she should be staring back.

With great effort, Tav peeled her eyes away from unrelenting green and kneeled down next to Andrick, trying to hide the pain that threatened to wash over her face as her muscles protested at the movement. His eyes remained open and lifeless and Tav suppressed the need to offer him a prayer once again, instead offering him the only mercy she could by gently closing his eyes.

She held his arms while she stood to lift him onto her shoulders and tears welled in her eyes from the sting of her wounds stretching with the effort.

“You.” The armoured figure with the piercing green eyes broke the near silence of the room. Tav looked at her immediately with both fear and a recognition she couldn’t place. “You’re in pain, why?” The woman demanded in a softer tone than Tav had imagined could come from such a woman.

“I’m not sure, Dark Justiciar,” Tav replied, balancing Andrick with one arm to allow her to lift the sleeve of her shirt up to show the bruising. The way the woman’s eyes dragged across the tightened fabric over her biceps was not lost on her. “These were here when I woke up.”

“And you didn’t enter the cloister with such wounds?”

“I didn’t, no.”

“I see.” Even behind a mask, Tav could see the woman was deep in thought for a moment before she spoke again. “Meet me in my chambers when you’re finished disposing of that Selûnite.”

Shit. She needed to try and find the Hallowleaf’s daughter so she could be out of this place as soon as possible, catching the attention of a Dark Justiciar was the last thing she needed.

Tav’s heart felt as though it was caught in her throat as her knuckles rapped against the wooden door to the Dark Justiciar’s chambers. She had no idea why the woman had called her here. Was closing Andrick’s eyes a slap in her face which required a reprimand? Was she about to be chastised again for refusing to volunteer for his murder? Did the wounds mean something that Tav was unaware of?

“Come in!” The melodic voice called from behind the door. Tav obeyed without a moment’s thought. If she wanted to find the Hallowleaf’s daughter, she had to try and stay out of trouble – under their radar.

As her eyes landed on the now unarmoured figure behind the door, Tav realised that finding Jenevelle may not be that hard after all, but getting her out of the cloister would be near impossible.

Tav almost choked on laughter at her own stupidity. Before her, Shadowheart stood proud, nursing a goblet of red wine beside the fireplace. Her armour had been discarded and hung on a mannequin in the corner of the room, appearing to be more of a ceremonial piece than used for any sort of combat or fieldwork. Instead, she wore a black, skin-tight dress with embellished shoulders, a plunging neckline and a thigh-high slit. Tav struggled to keep her eyes from roaming. Her raven locks remained in a tight ponytail and still framed her face as perfectly as it had the night before. The green eyes that had remained on her throughout Viconia’s introduction were the same that had seared themselves into her mind the previous night – and the same that Arnell and Emmeline had described as their daughter’s. The scar that she had noticed on the woman the night before just proved to confirm Tav’s conclusion. This woman was the target she sought. This woman was Jenevelle.

“So, not only are you the type of woman to walk a drunk maiden home in the middle of the night, but you’re also able to have mercy on the greatest of your enemies… Impressive.” Jenevelle mused.

Tav’s heart pounded and adrenaline filled her system. She hadn’t expected to find Jenevelle like this – for her to be so high up in the Sharran ranks. She wasn’t just a novice, a sentry or even a Fidelian – she was a Dark Justiciar, the most elite and brutal of Shar’s forces. She couldn’t just grab her and make a run for it, and letting her know that she even had the intention would likely put Tav in a great deal of danger from Jenevelle herself.

“If I don’t respect my enemies as people, how can I hope to respect their prowess in combat? It’s an easy way to lose your life.” Tav played coy. She’d have to come up with some sort of plan for a kidnap, rather than a rescue.

“Very wise, Tav. I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you.” She smirked, “And I can only apologise.”

“What for?” Tav questioned, eyes flicking across the room as though she expected someone to appear out of thin air and drag her away.

“I’m the reason you weren’t healed after your… interrogation.”

“Oh?” Tav pushed, now more confused than concerned.

“You see, the interrogations were conducted by other initiates, like yourself. They’re instructed to heal the new recruits after the interrogation… but the initiate running yours didn’t.” She hummed, catching her lip between her teeth with a smile as her eyes roamed over Tav’s body. What wasn’t she saying?

“Why didn’t they heal me? Did I say something?” Tav pressed. Surely if she had confessed that she was a Selûnite, she would have been killed along with the others – or at least, Jenevelle wouldn’t be looking at her so… hungrily.

“Well, you see, the initiate that ran your interrogation appears to have a certain soft spot for me, and when you mentioned you had only come along for the beautiful woman with the black hair, he took a bit of offence to that. When I questioned him before you came, he mentioned that he simply ran out of magic, but a little… encouragement revealed his true reasoning. He won’t be lying to me again.”

“Oh…” There was nothing Tav could do to prevent the blush from spreading across her cheeks. Is that why she hadn’t been found out as a Selûnite? Because she had been too enamoured by the black-haired beauty before her? “I can only apologise for what I said. I hope you understand it was never my intention to be disrespectful?”

“Disrespectful?” Jenevelle laughed, moving closer to Tav as though she were a predator with eyes locked on prey. “Please, it would only be disrespectful if you denied your reasons for coming here. Now I know why you refused to kill the Selûnites.” Jenevelle placed her hand on Tav’s shoulder as she whispered in Tav’s ear, brushing her lips against the skin of her ear lobe. Clearly, she had realised this had done something primal to Tav the night before and was intent on doing the same thing again. “And now I know your greatest weakness.”

Jenevelle pulled away, just enough to hold her eyes teasingly on Tav’s lips, parting her own as though she could make a move to close the distance at any second. But instead of a kiss, cold magic flowed from where her hand still rested on Tav’s shoulder – within seconds her wounds were healed. With a wicked smile, she stepped away, returning to the goblet she had discarded on the mantlepiece.

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you, Tav.” The way Tav’s name fell from her lips sounded like a symphony. Tav longed to hear it again – breathy, needy, begging. “Don’t disappoint me.”

The days passed and Tav ruminated. There was no obvious way to get Jenevelle (‘Shadowheart’, as she kept having to remind herself) out safely without alerting the entire cloister – even more impossible, seemingly to convince her to come willingly. And then what would happen when Shadowheart met her parents? Would she fall at their feet in tears at seeing them again? Would she kill them on sight in honour of her Dark Lady? Would she even recognise them after all this time? Having heard what she had about Shar taking people’s memories, she wasn’t sure if Shadowheart would even have the memories of her parents.

How the fuck was she going to do this?

For the first time in her life, she was thankful for the way her father treated her growing up. Living in a Sharran Cloister, even as an initiate was not for the faint of heart. In the last few days, she had seen countless people brought in for ‘interrogation’, and the promise that the initiates would have to learn the Sharran techniques loomed over her. She longed to feel the rays of the moon on her skin again. She knew Selûne would forgive her for the actions she knew she’d be forced to undertake to return one of her children – but could she forgive herself?

What made the situation worse was Shadowheart herself – or rather Tav’s feelings towards her. She had been afforded an incredible education growing up – lessons in diplomacy being among the most important, yet around Shadowheart it was like she forgot herself entirely. Her brain turned to mush and her heart pounded as though she had just sprinted across the continent. She knew it was dangerous to feel this way. She had willingly walked into a nest of vipers and Shadowheart stealing her attention in such a way caused her distractions she couldn’t afford. Although, it did have one benefit of causing her to become Shadowheart’s star pupil. She found herself hanging on every word that fell from the Dark Justiciar’s mouth. Her eyes traced the lines of her lips as she spoke, committing every movement, every syllable to memory. Unfortunately, it hadn’t kept her as under the radar as she had wanted, and since their first day, a clear rift had grown between Sera and Warren, and her and Riley.

Riley kept her sane on the harder days, when lessons grew darker and Tav had to fight with herself to stay and follow through with her rescue mission. Of course, Riley didn’t know the true reasons behind her quieter moods, but they offered their support all the same. Riley didn’t seem like what she imagined most Sharrans would be like and Tav found spending time with them to be refreshing, even fun at times with their similar sense of humour. They just seemed to understand Tav, even to the point of immediately noticing her… affections for Shadowheart.

Warren, on the other hand, was exactly how she imagined a Sharran to be. He had proved himself to be cruel and cold, almost psychopathic in the way he carried himself each day. He hated that Tav always knew the answers to Shadowheart’s questions. He sneered at every lingering glance Tav shared with their teacher. Every day he pushed the limits of ‘competition’, often using it as an excuse to make outright threats. Sera often just stood smirking behind him. Tav imagined she had chosen to ally with who she believed to be the strongest of them, quietly plotting ways to stab them all in the back.

Sharran politics as an initiate were exhausting and she was suffocating under the constant gaze of everyone in the cloister. All except one.

“Good evening, students.” That voice. Tav had only known Shadowheart a few days – she was the last person she should have feelings for, the last person she should seek the gaze of, the last person she should dream about, yet here she was. “Tonight, we’ll be learning about interrogation techniques.”

Shit.

Chapter Text

A tenday had passed since Tav first entered the cloister. Each day was spent deep in thought plotting her next steps – pretending to pray, learning scripture her Selûnite faith made her familiar with, sparring with the other initiates and hours upon hours spent under Dark Justiciar Shadowheart’s tutelage. Tav spent every minute of those lessons trying to decode the mystery of her target. Every second analysing the slightest change in facial expression or the tone of her voice. If she could just figure out how deeply she had been indoctrinated – if there were any remnants of the Selûnite child who was torn from her parents 40 years ago, it would make her task so much easier.

It didn’t take long for Tav to come to a conclusion. Shadowheart was the model Sharran on the surface, able to spout off Sharran teachings and Shar’s thirteen truths like they were imprinted on the back of her eyelids. She took pride in regaling tales of her triumphs over Selûnites and using examples from her own experience on how the best ways to bend and break people. Anyone who didn’t perform as expected faced harsh punishment. On paper, Shadowheart was the perfect example of a Sharran. But Tav had grown up surrounded by courtiers and nobles who wished to climb above their station. She spent her entire childhood tip-toeing around her father to avoid his ire. Tav knew how to read people.

And Tav sensed Shadowheart spent a great deal of effort trying to maintain her perfect Sharran mask.

Whether or not Shadowheart believed in Shar’s values was unquestionable. It was obvious Shadowheart lived and breathed her faith. She clung to it like a child hanging onto the ruffles of their mother’s dress. But as hours turned into days, Tav noticed the mask drop on more than one occasion. Tav sensed that she had been Shadowheart’s favourite initiate from the beginning, being the only one within the cohort that she had recruited – from day one it had afforded her a certain sense of familiarity that none of the others appeared to be privy to. Tav’s lingering gazes were met and matched, the ghost of a smile threatened to show whenever she caught Tav staring, Shadowheart’s voice lilted just a tad more when addressing her. Tav had even remained behind after a few lessons under the guise of ‘learning more’ – despite letting her guard down the smallest amount when it was just the two of them, Shadowheart remained ever-professional and ever-stoic, despite the emotion Tav could see storming behind olive eyes.

No matter the amount of inner turmoil Shadowheart felt, Tav could tell she would never truly let herself feel. Pain was lauded by Sharrans as one of the most sacred emotions, and Tav imagined that pain was exactly what Shadowheart felt every time she pushed her true emotions further and further down.

As the days passed, the divide within the group of initiates grew wider. Riley was happy to learn from Tav and their sense of humour kept Tav going on the darker days. Sera seemed apathetic, just hoping to get her head down and learn how to spread Shar’s darkness. Warren, though – Warren was formidable in his own right, quick to bark out answers to questions and reel off scripture on demand, sneering in Tav’s direction whenever he felt like he had one-upped her. He regularly landed brutal hits on Tav and the other initiates during sparring, but Warren had a weakness that Tav didn’t. Hubris. Warren believed himself to be the best at everything, frequently underestimating people and ending up on the wrong side of superiors. He ended up being seen as more of an annoyance than an asset – in need of re-education for fear of his uncontrolled anger and malice putting the cloister at risk. Still, he refused to accept he was anything but perfect, blaming Tav for his own inadequacies and only hating her more with each day.

Tav’s extra efforts had not gone unnoticed, and she had developed into the cloister’s star pupil, surpassing even some of the more seasoned initiates. The status was not undeserved – being a Selûnite, Tav knew a great deal about the Sharran church already. Having spent so much time in the wilds and running around a castle avoiding her father, Tav’s reflexes were fast, her footsteps were close to silent, and her muscles were finely developed for strength.

As a reward, or perhaps a test, Tav had earned an excursion at Shadowheart’s side. Sharran scouts had reported an increase in Selûnite activity in the city and given that spies had already infiltrated the cloister, Viconia had ordered scouts to find some and bring them in for questioning.

The idea was abhorrent to Tav. Putting other Selûnites in danger – tracking them down and capturing them herself seemed abhorrent to Tav, but still, she accepted the mission. She would be left alone with Shadowheart beyond the confines of the cloister – what better chance would she have at fulfilling her duty to the Hallowleafs?

“You seem uneasy, Tav?” Shadowheart asked, keeping her eyes trained ahead on the cobbled road of the lower city. Tav was unsure whether she was prying or genuinely curious, but her tone appeared teasing all the same.

To her annoyance, she had only grown more and more enamoured with the Dark justiciar as the days had progressed. Tav had found herself questioning what she knew about Sharrans when she interacted with Shadowheart. She had imagined everyone in the cloister would be the same as Warren and Viconia – cold, calculated and a little psychopathic sometimes, but Shadowheart didn’t always fit within those stereotypes. She certainly had her moments of displaying the perfect Sharran façade, but over the days Tav had spent in her company, she had noticed the rare softness of stolen glances break through a usually hard or discerning glare.

Tav felt for her – she had only lived in the cloister for a tenday and she already felt suffocated, but Shadowheart had lived under Shar’s scrutiny for four decades. Tav could only imagine what Shadowheart had endured to push Jenevelle down so deep within herself. Part of her yearned to tell Shadowheart everything, pull her into a warm embrace and tell her she didn’t have to hide herself anymore, that she had a family who still loved her after all this time – but Tav wasn’t naïve enough to think that would work. Shar’s influence ran too deep. She’d have to be a lot more subtle (or forceful) if she was to succeed at stealing Shadowheart away from Shar’s influence.

“It’s hard not to be when we’re out here looking for targets.” Tav sighed, attempting to make excuses for the anxiety she felt at being so close to fulfilling her mission.

“You’re a hunter, aren’t you? You should be used to the chase by now.” Shadowheart quirked an eyebrow at her, insinuating there was more behind her words than just a reference to their current task. Tav felt her cheeks redden at the masked flirting and was silently thankful the attention had been drawn away from her nerves.

“I usually hunt for a purpose: for food mostly, sometimes to hunt down a predator for villagers. Occasionally I’d extend my talents to bounty hunting, but that was usually just a quick kill. I’ve never hunted someone down to capture them before.” The irony of Tav’s own words didn’t escape her as she kept pace with her target.

“Well, if it helps, I believe you’re more than capable. I wouldn’t have chosen you to assist me on this if I didn’t.” Tav felt the warmth of her cheeks spread to her chest. It felt strange to appreciate praise from a Sharran.

“I appreciate your faith in me.” Tav smiled as they came to a stop at the doors of the Elf Song Tavern. “If nothing else, I appreciate the chance for some fresh air.”

“It can be suffocating in those halls sometimes.” Shadowheart agreed, returning Tav’s smile almost a bit too eagerly and holding her gaze for a little bit too long. Tav’s heart fluttered at the sight before Shadowheart remembered herself and cleared her throat, looking in any direction but Tav’s.

“So, do we have a cover story for this evening, or are we just going in and sitting in a dark corner?”

“Thinking like a Sharran already, I see.” Shadowheart laughed, appearing grateful for the change of topic. “Dark corners won’t do. We need to be out in the open so we can keep our eyes on everyone. We also don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Tav pushed.

“Well, what else would two beautiful women be doing at a tavern together but be on a date?” Shadowheart said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Her mouth curled into a testing smirk and she flicked green over Tav’s body. Tav suddenly felt naked beneath her gaze as she forgot to breathe. Beautiful? Did she mean that?

“Right. Good thinking. A date.” It took all of Tav’s effort not to stutter in response.

“Relax, it’s not a real date.” Shadowheart chuckled at Tav’s reaction. “But it can’t hurt to have a little fun while we’re out, now can it?”

“Right.” Tav smiled, but couldn’t ignore the disappointment that crept up her throat. Silence hung in the air between them for the briefest moment before Shadowheart spoke again.

“I know I’m your teacher, Tav, but I didn’t think I’d have to teach you how to open a door.” She teased, eyes darting to the door beside them.

“Oh! Sorry.” Tav mumbled as she reached out to push the door, surprised when it wouldn’t budge.

“It’s a pull door, Tav.” Shadowheart had every right to be annoyed – Viconia likely would have her hand chopped off for failing the simplest of tasks, but the Cleric’s voice held a surprising warmth she hadn’t expected from a Sharran.

Shadowheart entered the Tavern first, gracefully crossing the bare floorboards of the tavern to sit at a table close to the bar. Not right in the centre of the room or hidden away in a dark corner, but just in the action enough to be able to eavesdrop on both drunken and hushed conversations.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Tav asked tentatively. Despite her own reasons for being here, she knew there was a very strict hierarchy within the Sharran church – being so familiar with Shadowheart almost certainly crossed boundaries and she wasn’t sure of Shadowheart’s reaction.

“Wine, please.” Shadowheart quirked an eyebrow at the question but seemed to appreciate Tav’s bravery. “But I’ll let you pick the bottle. Perhaps if you choose well, you’ll earn some extra credit.”

Tav held back the cocky expression that threatened to plaster across her face. Wine was something she knew well. She sighed in relief that Jendrik wasn’t on shift and returned with what she knew to be a modestly priced, but exceptional bottle of red accompanied with some grapes, cheeses and bread. Shadowheart failed to hide her surprise as Tav returned to the table, drink and food in hand. The expression only grew as Tav effortlessly uncorked the wine and poured a splash into Shadowheart’s goblet. The Dark Justiciar wordlessly spun the goblet in her hand before inhaling its scent and taking a lengthy sip.

“I’m impressed.” She smiled, nodding to Tav to fill her goblet. “I didn’t think a simple hunter would have such a knowledge of wine.”

“I travelled a lot.” Tav said simply. It wasn’t a lie. “I’m a hunter, yes, but at a young age I figured to be a good one I’d need more experience than I could get from staying in the same place.”

“And the food?” Shadowheart pushed.

“Well, it wouldn’t do for me to try and get you drunk on the first date.” Tav winked but panicked when Shadowheart’s expression suddenly turned serious.

“You’re not like the other initiates, are you? You’re not… scared of me. I think you’re the only one in the cloister who actually treats me like a person.” None of the anger Tav had anticipated tinged the statement – instead she sounded inquisitive.

“You made quite the impression on me when you walked out of the darkness that night. It would be hard for me to see you as just a teacher.” Tav said matter-of-factly, before choosing to push the boundaries further. “I could say the same about you.”

“What do you mean?” Shadowheart scoffed, tilting an eyebrow in near-offence.

“I mean no offence, Shadowheart.” She began, her voice as soft and warm as she could manage, “Viconia, the Fidelians, the Sentries, Owltalon and Nightmist. It’s almost as if they share the same mind – they don’t seem to have personalities beyond their religion… but I sense more in you.”

To Tav’s surprise, Shadowheart sighed and sunk into her chair.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Her tone was dejected as her eyes lazily dragged across the room. “Lady Shar is, and always has been, my home. I was orphaned as a child and she took me in when no one else would. I owe her – I owe the Mother Superior my life. For as long as I’ve served Lady Shar, I’ve wished to serve her as a Dark Justiciar. We’re supposed to be the sword arm of Shar’s will, helping to bring about her perfect, endless darkness, but the Mother Superior always forbade me from following the path – until the choice was taken away from her and I followed a path that ended in Shar offering me the role herself. Mother hated it. She all but refused to acknowledge my title, giving true Dark Justiciar duties to Owltalon and Nightmist and putting me on permanent babysitting duty.”

“You didn’t want to be a teacher?” Tav nudged, letting Shadowheart’s words sink in. She believed herself to be an orphan, all but confirming Shar had taken away all memories before her abduction. She wasn’t sure if that would make her task easier or harder.

“I wanted to have a true purpose spreading Shar’s will throughout Faerûn. Instead, I spend my days teaching those who would rather use Shar’s powers for their own gain.”

 “You mean Warren?”

“You didn’t hear it from me.” Shadowheart whispered as if it was a secret Tav didn’t already know. “There are few others in the cloister like him, they’re just more subtle about it. I can tell you’re not one of them, though.” Tav felt her heart skip when Shadowheart met her gaze with a smile.

“Oh?”

“You’re not the type of person I’d usually recruit. You appeared to be in need of Lady Shar’s message when you were sulking, but I had my doubts when you walked that Tiefling home. You seemed too nice.”

“So why did you approach me?” Tav’s curiosity piqued at the confession.

“I’m not sure if I’m entirely honest. You were certainly easy on the eyes, but there was a certain draw about you that I couldn’t deny. It was as though Lady Shar herself had pointed you out to me.” Shadowheart said just above a whisper, suddenly appearing slightly nervous – clearly aware that Shar was not the reason her attention had been drawn to Tav, but trying to convince herself otherwise. Tav took a minute to pause, before responding. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to make Shadowheart question the influence of Shar in favour of Selûne – if that failed, she’d have to take Shadowheart by force, hoping that the cloister would assume the two had been killed by Selûnites while scouting and not question the disappearance. Shadowheart spoke before she could form the words.

“I can see you’re deep in thought. I know it’s been a lot to take in - this last tenday. While we’re out of the cloister seems as good a time as any to discuss any questions you have. But I think we could both do with another drink, first.” Shadowheart gave an amused smile as she stood, and Tav felt her cheeks redden at the realisation Shadowheart had seen how deep in thought she had been, but relief that Shadowheart couldn’t detect her thoughts. “Same again?”

“Sure.” Tav returned the smile, attempting to mask the anxiety that was forming in her chest. Drinking didn’t seem wise with everything going on, but part of her was glad for the liquid courage and the few minutes she’d get on her own to clear her head while Shadowheart was at the bar.

It was time alone she very much needed. Tav’s nerves had a grip on her that the wine and conversation hadn’t appeared to shake. It had hit her when she woke up in the cloister that she had vastly underestimated how hard it would be to kidnap a Sharran, but she hadn’t expected Shadowheart to be quite as committed to the goddess who stole her. It had taken a lot of time and effort to get Shadowheart to talk to her in such a way as she was this evening, but all of her work would be undone the moment she revealed her true intentions. Shadowheart would undoubtedly fight Tav – potentially even try to kill her… or worse. As soon as she made her move there was no going back. It was just a matter of timing.

“Tav? Oh my Gods, I thought I’d never see you again!” A familiar voice pulled her from thoughts.

“Alfira?” Tav rubbed her eyes, only just realising she had forgotten to blink.

“I thought you were leaving the city?” She questioned, and Tav felt her anxiety tighten its grip when she placed herself in Shadowheart’s empty seat. Being recognised was the last thing she needed.

“I did.” She blurted, her back straightening immediately as her eyes rapidly scanned the crowd for Shadowheart.

“Come back here hoping to bump into me again did you?” She smirked, letting a finger drag across Tav’s bare forearm before stroking the rim of Shadowheart’s long-empty goblet. “You even got two glasses – how presumptuous.” She drawled as half-lidded eyes bore into Tav’s own. “Well, my answer is yes – but you need to buy the first round.”

“I’m afraid she’s spoken for.” Shadowheart’s voice sounded from beside the both of them, having seemingly materialised out of thin air. It held none of the friendly lilt that Tav had worked so hard to earn and instead was just firm and monotone. “Isn’t that right, lover?”

Tav cautiously tilted her head to look up at Shadowheart, noticing narrowed eyes, arched eyebrows, a clenched jaw and pursed lips aimed in the Tiefling’s direction. The fresh bottle of wine dangled from tense arms crossed against her chest and she placed her weight on her right leg, arching her hip forwards Tav. Since Tav had met the Sharran she had noticed a veil behind her eyes, appearing to act as a wall that shielded herself from the world – but for the first time, Tav noticed the veil had gone, and eyes that had looked at her with mirth and kindness but a few minutes ago were now baring into Alfira as though she were a scavenger approaching Shadowheart’s fresh kill. The look confused Tav – she knew it was… inconvenient to be recognised while on a mission, but surely the ‘Sharran’ course of action would be for Shadowheart to keep her distance and avoid creating a scene? So why did Shadowheart look like she was about to stab Alfira in the middle of the Tavern?

“Lover?” Alfira huffed a laugh. “Please, I met her a tenday ago and she was more than willing to come home with me. You appear to be jealous that Tav has other women vying for her attention.”

To Tav’s surprise, Shadowheart took a step back and straightened her back as though Alfira had just sized up to her. Something unreadable flashed behind Shadowheart’s green eyes before they steeled and the veil appeared once again.

And then she smiled.

“I think you’re mistaken. Tav is here on a date with me. She had no interest in you.”

“I think I’d like to hear that from Tav.” Alfira’s insistence was met with a cold calmness from Shadowheart that Tav found almost more intimidating than her rage. Alfira’s gaze drifted to look at Tav, but Shadowheart’s remained firmly on the woman in her seat. Tav turned her head to meet expectant infernal eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Shadowheart pulling her chair away from the table. Both women looked at her with confusion as she placed the bottle of wine on the table between them and slowly leaned down to perch herself across Tav’s lap. Tav’s heart skipped a beat as Shadowheart’s weight settled across her thighs and she steadied herself with an arm tightly curled around Tav’s shoulders. Tav’s gaze was broken away from Alfira as Shadowheart’s free hand caressed her cheek and encouraged her head to tilt towards her. Not breaking their gaze for a second, Shadowheart addressed Alfira again.

“I think Tav’s spoken loudly enough. Haven’t you, Lover?” Tav’s eyelids drooped with intoxication, but not from the wine. Tav was drunk on the way Shadowheart’s hand brushed against her skin, on the way her name fell from full lips, on the warm, heady scent of sandalwood and bergamot that clung to her skin. Tav felt unable to move as her eyes landed on Shadowheart’s lips and she involuntarily gasped. Shadowheart was right – Alfira could never hope to elicit such a reaction from her. But if she hadn’t already hammered the final nail into the coffin, Shadowheart closed the gap between them.

Tav had dreamt of this moment ever since Shadowheart had first appeared from the darkness, but even her dreams could never prepare for the real thing. Delicate fingers tickled the soft skin on her jaw and left a trail of fire as they made their way up to thread through her hair, cupping the back of her head gently, but assertively. Shadowheart’s lips parted just enough for a slow, anticipatory swipe of her tongue to be followed by a teasing lip bite, accompanied by a devilish smirk which only widened at Tav’s involuntary gasp when their lips finally met. It happened so quickly that Tav didn’t have a chance to steel herself, and she melted under Shadowheart’s touch.

As Shadowheart’s lips moved softly against her own and warm breath tickled her skin, Tav forgot this was all an act - a distraction meant for Alfira, nothing more than a perpetuation of their cover story and a bid to get Alfira to leave them alone. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her hands involuntarily grasped at Shadowheart’s waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Shadowheart gasped against her mouth at the surprise contact and accepted the invitation, tightening her arm around Tav’s shoulder and her grip on her hair. They could have kissed for a lifetime. Tav could have died in Shadowheart’s arms right there and been happy, but it ended all too quickly when Alfira cleared her throat and Shadowheart pulled away.

For the first time, Tav noticed no hint of bravado in Shadowheart's gaze. The Dark Justiciar looked at her with an unfamiliar, but welcome softness and her eyes lingered on Tav for just a millisecond longer than she should have, refusing to turn towards the distraction while she steadied her shaking breath.

“I believe I’ve proven my point?” Shadowheart addressed Alfira, finally turning to flick her eyes over the Tiefling with a smug dismissiveness. Tav felt torn – Alfira didn’t deserve this. She deserved better than to be led on and have something rubbed in her face, but Shadowheart’s kiss had left her unable to speak, to think, or to even look away from the lips which had just been pressed against her own.

“Oh, I think you’ve broken the poor girl.” A menacing voice called from a few feet away from them.

Warren. What the fuck was he doing here?

Shadowheart stiffened in Tav’s lap and her face contorted into a snarl.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” She demanded.

“Taking my opportunity to learn Sharran ideals, Dark Justiciar. Seeing that only your star pupil got to experience this extra special lesson, I thought I would tag along to see the lessons for myself. But I understand now why she’s your star pupil. Couldn’t keep it in your pants, Shadowheart? If I had known I could sleep my way to the top, it wouldn’t have even been a competition.”

Shadowheart shot up from Tav’s lap and squared up to him, bristling and snarling in his smug face.

“How dare you. I ought to gut you where you stand for the insinuation, but you’ve already blown our cover, imbecile. I’ll be having words with the Mother Superior when we’re back about your place in this cloister.”

“And I’m sure she’d love to hear about how you had your tongue down the throat of your star pupil.” Warren laughed in her face. “I thought Sharrans weren’t supposed to have relationships?”

“If you took your head out of your arse for a split second, you might have noticed it was to blend in with our cover story.” She bit back.

“Oh please!” Warren laughed again. “If that was just acting then you ought to be on every stage in Faerûn. The only fake thing about that kiss was the excuse you used to justify it.”

For the first time since Warren had appeared, Shadowheart seemed taken aback. Although Tav couldn’t see her face, her body language shifted into a defensive stance, as though Warren’s words were a threat. But they couldn’t be… could they? Tav had battled with her feelings for Shadowheart since the day they had met. She found it exhausting to constantly have to remind herself she was there to rescue Jenevelle for her parents, rather than to have Shadowheart on her brain all the time. But, as flirty as Shadowheart was, she had no inkling that she felt the same. The way she instinctively reacted to Warren’s accusation made even her doubt Shadowheart’s feelings.

“Get back to the cloister. Now.” Shadowheart growled with a viciousness that left no room for Warren to argue back. As cocky as he was, he knew when to obey orders and turned on his heel before Shadowheart had a chance to repeat herself.

“You too, Tav.” Shadowheart huffed as she turned and the defeated look on her face broke her heart. Tav couldn’t feel but equally defeated, not only had Shadowheart’s mission been ruined, but so had Tav’s chance at completing her mission. Now, Warren had a watchful eye on them and his shouting had caused almost everyone in the Elf Song to stare at them.

They were well and truly screwed.

Chapter Text

It was later than they realised by the time they stepped out into the cool night air. Warren had stormed off back to the cloister, determined to gain the satisfaction of telling the Mother Superior of Shadowheart’s mission failure before they returned. Tav was still getting used to living in a Sharran cloister, but she knew a failure such as this would have severe consequences, even if Warren had been the one to blow their cover.

Shadowheart hadn’t bothered to try and catch up to him after he sped away – she already seemed resigned to her fate. On the surface, it appeared as if she had been punished by the Mother Superior so often that the threat of it no longer held any weight, but there was an unmistakable glint of fear in Shadowheart’s eyes that Tav hadn’t noticed before. She wanted to chip away at Shadowheart’s defences, to truly understand everything that made her tick, everything that made her scared – she wondered if any of the personality instilled by her parents still shone through the cracks in the Sharran mask.

“I can feel your eyes on me.” Shadowheart stated beside Tav, flashing her an inquisitive look.

“I’m not looking at you?” Tav quirked her eyebrow at the statement, having kept her eyes on the path before them up until that moment.

“Your eyes may have been facing forward, but I could tell your attention was on me in your peripheral vision.”

Tav opened her mouth to refute the claim but stopped before the denial left her lips, replacing it with a guilty smirk instead.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve been trained from a very young age to read people, Tav. Much like you have, I think. Though, why a hunter from the wilds would be so interested in the behaviours of other people remains a mystery to me.” Shadowheart challenged, and Tav wondered if it was mere curiosity, or whether the woman had been paying more attention to her backstory than she wanted.

“It was a defence mechanism.” Tav replied simply, not a lie, but not entirely the truth. Despite the apathy and cruelty of her father, being second in line to the throne meant Tav had been afforded a very expensive and in-depth education. Diplomacy, understanding people and reading people were all key to survival in the world she came from. A dagger could have been behind any corner, any curtain, any friendly face. But the greater danger had always been her father – understanding when to avoid him and when to acquiesce to his wishes.

“Why would you need defence mechanisms where you came from?” Shadowheart pushed, not yet content with Tav’s explanation.

Tav sighed before continuing, being careful to stay as close to the truth as she could. “I needed to know when my father meant me harm. Why are you changing the subject?” She asked, certain that Shadowheart was asking prying questions to distract from the reason Tav had been eyeing her in the first place. She was determined to understand why Shadowheart was appearing defensive.

“What do you mean? I started the conversation?” Shadowheart had the audacity to look puzzled. Tav chuckled in response, flashing a warm, charming smile to show she posed no threat.

“You said I was looking at you. You hide it well, but I sense fear in you about returning to the cloister.”

“See, you are good at reading people.” Shadowheart laughed and Tav’s eyes sparkled at the sound.

“Is it something I can help with? Explain to her that Warren broke our cover, or take the blame myself?” Shadowheart looked touched at the offer.

“You’re sweet, but no. Warren might have been the one to break our cover, but the Mother Superior will still chastise me for not being aware enough of my surroundings to notice him.” A shiver ran across her spine at the mention of chastisement.

“I’ve not seen you nervous like this before.” Tav pressed with a soft voice, eager not to scare Shadowheart further behind her defences.

“You’re not going to let this drop, are you?” Shadowheart stopped in her tracks, turning to face Tav with a huff. “I owe the Mother Superior my life. She raised me, trained me, took me in when I had no one. I would have died without her, and I would have had it no other way… but…” Shadowheart paused, bringing her arms closer to her body and brushing her fingers across her skin as her expression grew dejected and her gaze diverted away from Tav’s. “The only memory I have from before she took me in is of a wolf chasing me through the woods. It had me cornered, it bared its teeth at me as it prepared to strike. The Mother Superior saved me, of course, but I’ve been terrified of wolves ever since. I lose all ability to control myself and freeze to the spot. I can’t move, can’t talk, can’t think – I become overcome with fear. Mother isn’t above using that fear against me. If I ever disobeyed, sometimes instead of whipping she’d threaten to drag me to a wolf den. She hasn’t followed through on the threat yet, but I know she wouldn’t hesitate to in the future, should circumstances call for it.”

Tav’s heart broke at the admission. Not only had the Mother Superior stolen a young Jenevelle from her loving parents, but the way she had used her fear against her was abhorrent. Shadowheart had experienced nothing but cruelty since the day she was taken – Tav was more determined than ever to return her to her parents.

With Warren so far ahead of them, could now be the perfect time?

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. It’s not appropriate of me.” Shadowheart breathed, clenching her fists and shaking her head to rid herself of the memories. “Forget I said anything.”

“I won’t.” Tav said defiantly, stepping closer to Shadowheart’s space. The Cleric looked surprised – wary, almost, but didn’t move away. “I know how much the Mother Superior’s opinion means to you. She raised you to be strong – opening up about your memories, your fears and what you’ve been through shows true strength by allowing yourself to be vulnerable. But you didn’t deserve to have your fear used against you in such a way.”

“Tav…” Shadowheart’s breath shook as she spoke, but she didn’t continue. Tav had a feeling it had been a long time since Shadowheart had ever been given a kind word – little did she know many more were to come. Tav moved closer still, reaching her hand up ever so slowly to cup Shadowheart’s cheek. It was then she noticed the glimmer of a tear pooling in green eyes. “What are you doing?” Shadowheart’s question was barely a whisper as it left her lips. Tav eyed them with awe. Their kiss in the Elf Song had been a ruse intent for distraction, nothing more, nothing less, but it had felt so real.

What if it had been real?

Shadowheart didn’t move away as Tav’s gaze flicked between plush lips and glimmering eyes. She looked scared. Did she wonder if it had been real, too?

“I’m giving you something you do deserve.” Tav whispered in response to the question they both knew the answer to.

Tav’s actions had been unbecoming of a Sharran initiate all evening, but this? If the Mother Superior knew how Tav was making one of her Dark Justiciar’s melt from the anticipation of a kiss, they’d both be flogged. It was lucky they wouldn’t be returning.

Tav’s heart pounded as she pulled Shadowheart into her arms and swiftly closed the gap between their lips. A gasp that escaped Shadowheart’s throat morphed into a moan as she surrendered herself to Tav, wrapping her arms around the woman to bring her ever closer. It could have been the wine, the tension of the mission, or the anxiety they both held in their chests, but Tav kissed Shadowheart with a fervour that made her shudder in her arms. Tav knew Sharrans often passed the time with casual flings, but the way Shadowheart was responding to her made it seem as though she had never been kissed before. Unlike their ‘fake’ first kiss, this one was a culmination of everything they had felt for each other over the last tenday. This kiss wasn’t slow and purposeful like their first. This kiss was hot, heavy and clumsy. Their teeth clashed and their tongues wrestled for dominance as their breathing turned to open-mouthed pants only taken in the milliseconds their lips parted.

Shadowheart’s hands started to move first, untangling themselves from Tav’s hair to creep down her back to her hips, one hand steady around her waist as the other crept under the fabric of her shirt to splay over a tight stomach. The new contact came as a surprise to Tav who broke the kiss and flashed Shadowheart a questioning look.

“What are you doing?” She struggled to ask through shaking breath.

“Getting what I deserve.” Shadowheart smiled back at her, wrapping both arms around Tav once more to lead her towards the rock face of the hillside they were walking beside. Shadowheart gasped as her back pressed against the cool rock and her grip tightened around Tav to pull her in closer. Tav took the hint and pushed her body into Shadowheart’s, using one arm to keep herself steady against the rock, and the other on Shadowheart’s hip to hold her in place.

“I thought this was against the rules?” Tav pushed, dipping her head to ghost her lips across Shadowheart’s jaw.

“If I’m going to get punished for breaking the rules, I might as well break them.” Shadowheart drawled into Tav’s ear. Her eyelids drifted closed as she leaned back in to capture Tav’s lips once more, humming with satisfaction at the steady pressure of Tav’s body pushing her against the wall. It didn’t take long for their kiss to turn desperate as each woman drank the other in. Shadowheart’s hands found their way under Tav’s shirt once more and languidly roamed across the trained muscles of the hunter. Having kept an interested eye on Tav during her sparring sessions, Shadowheart knew exactly what these muscles were capable of on the battlefield, but a shiver ran down her spine at the anticipation of what they could do in the throes of passion.

Somewhere inside her head, Tav realised she shouldn’t be doing this. Shadowheart was her target – a very skilled, very important Sharran and she was a Selûnite was about to steal her away from everything she knew. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. But as much as her head knew this, her body did not comply. Her free hand roamed Shadowheart’s body of its own accord. Dancing fingers ran across every inch of Shadowheart’s exposed skin and elicited wanton moans which only intensified, and her hand drew closer to her core. Shadowheart writhed underneath her, fingernails digging into Tav’s skin in a desperate attempt to bring her impossibly closer. Tav’s hand finally reached where Shadowheart needed her, and her fingers grazed across the waistband of her leggings as she prepared to dip her fingers beneath the fabric. Shadowheart bucked her hips away from the rock to allow better access and a loud groan ripped through her throat as Tav’s hand finally dipped beneath her waistband, dipping down just far enough to-

*Snap*

“What was that?” Shadowheart asked through panting breath and a pounding heart. Tav had already stopped her motions to turn her head towards the sound. Shadowheart followed her gaze but saw nothing other than moonlit grass and bushes dancing in the breeze.

Just as Shadowheart opened her mouth to speak again, Tav moved. Using the arm still propped against the rock, Tav swung herself around to place herself between Shadowheart and the direction the noise had come from. Just as her body slammed against the rockface, a telltale whistle rang through the air and a cry fell from Tav’s lips as an arrow implanted itself in her shoulder – right where Shadowheart’s head had been a second before.

“Tav!” Shadowheart cried, pushing herself away from the wall to scan the bushes for their attacker. She saw nothing – heard nothing, but she had moved so quickly that there was no chance the archer could have escaped. Shadowheart lifted her hand and allowed sparks to flow from her fingers, preparing a fireball to illuminate the area and fling at the first thing that moved.

Another rustle in the bushes beside her caught her attention and Shadowheart whipped her head around, crouching into a battle stance in preparation to kill whoever had disturbed to mood with the attractive hunter. She could hear nothing but the sounds of the breeze rustling the leaves and her heart pounding in her ears. She could have believed the whole thing had been a trick of her mind if Tav didn’t still have an arrow lodged in her shoulder.

Tav stood just behind her, having moved away from the rockface to guard Shadowheart’s back. Her eyes, too, scanned the bushes for any sign of the assailant who had just made an attempt on Shadowheart’s life. The need to protect her overtook every one of her senses, every one of her thoughts. She couldn’t stomach the thought of returning to the Hallowleafs and telling them their daughter had been killed right in front of her.

No.

Tav had nothing. Her family was dead. Her home was lost. Even her name had been taken from her. Tav had nothing to return to, or to live for beyond bringing the Hallowleaf’s daughter home safe and sound. If someone was going to kill Shadowheart, she’d protect her until her dying breath.

Tav calmed her breathing, steadied her heartrate and unsheathed the dagger strapped to her hip. She was used to the hunt. She was used to being hunted. Her half-elven eyes pierced the darkness, and her trained ears listened for the slightest of movements.

As if on cue, a bush rustled to their right – the same direction the arrow had appeared from. Tav’s eyes flicked over to see a hand creep back into the cover of darkness, and while Shadowheart turned her entire body to face the noise, Tav saw the action for what it was – a distraction.

Suddenly to her left and behind Shadowheart’s now turned back, a figure rose from the grass – arrow nocked. The *thunk* of the bow string told her what she already knew, and Shadowheart had no hope of moving out of the way in time to avoid the inevitable. Tav’s feet moved of their own accord and her good arm sent her dagger spinning through the air with all the strength she could muster. Her aim was true, as it always was, and the dagger soared through the air with almost frightening precision. The man’s bow lowered enough for the moon to illuminate the look of horror on his face as his fate approached him – it also illuminated something that turned Tav’s blood to ice. Silver hair – the hair of a Selûnite.

There was nothing she could do. The dagger implanted itself into the man’s forehead and he fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

Tav’s breath caught in her throat.

She had just killed one of her own.

“Tav!” Shadowheart gasped, having turned around just in time to see Tav save her life for the second time in a matter of seconds.

Behind them, a woman’s scream pierced the air.

Both women turned to look in the direction of the noise, Shadowheart calling flames to her fingertips once more while Tav’s hand moved to unsheathe her other dagger.

 A silver-haired Tiefling wearing a look of pure hatred emerged from the bushes, bow strapped to her back and a mace raised high above her head.

“Ignis!” Shadowheart’s spell echoed as the firebolt illuminated the darkness. The flames hit their target but did nothing to slow the woman down. Within a second she was on top of them both and swinging her mace angrily towards Shadowheart, who ducked out of the way at the last second.

Tav’s world stopped spinning for the briefest moment – faced with an impossible choice. There was no question in her mind that she wanted, needed, to keep Shadowheart alive, but doing so could possibly mean purposely ending the life of another Selûnite.

Tav opened her mouth to cast a spell which would render the Tiefling immobile, but the words refused to form in her mouth. It was then she realised that her breath had not returned to her since the first Selûnite fell. The adrenaline and panic of the kill had kept her on her feet until it could no longer, and Tav’s legs collapsed from beneath her. A surge of pain seared through her shoulder as the body fell to the floor and the arrow dug deeper into her flesh. But there was something more. She had been so focused on protecting Shadowheart from the figure in the bushes that she had failed to notice the arrow shot by the Selûnite had found purchase in her lung. And now as she lay helplessly on the cold ground, struggling to draw any breath into her lungs, she could do nothing but watch as the Tiefling swung again at Shadowheart, this time catching her arm and forcing the spell prepared at her fingertips to dissipate. Shadowheart stood defenceless as the Tiefling’s arm rose up in preparation to strike again. The sight was enough to give Tav another surge of adrenaline which was all she needed to raise the hand still clutching her dagger and dig it into the Tiefling’s thigh. It was precisely the distraction that Shadowheart needed to regain her composure, wrestle the mace from the Tiefling’s hands and end her life.

Tav couldn’t have brought herself to watch a Sharran kill another Selûnite on the best of days, but today the decision was made for her as her consciousness began to slip away, her eyes drifted closed and Shadowheart’s voice faded into the distance.

Kyra stood in front of the prisoner shackled to the wall in the dungeons of her father’s castle.

“You’re too soft, daughter.” He had insisted time and time again. Coming from a tyrant, Kyra felt his comment had always been more of a compliment than he intended, but all too often he turned it into a threat. “If you don’t toughen your heart up soon, you will force my hand to develop those aspects of you.”

Now, she found her time had run out. Usually, her father’s attention was drawn to Ryn as the next heir, but he insisted on giving Kyra a similar ‘education’ in case Ryn were to meet an untimely death. She hated those days. It was a sickening reminder of her place in society – likely only born because her father needed someone to keep the bloodline going should everyone else die – the spare heir to the throne. Yet, she found she much preferred her position as second in line than being in her brother’s shoes. It was a wonder he stayed sane with the amount their father tried to mould him into his clone. But the king and his children were not cut from the same cloth – both much more comfortable with the safety of the wilds than in the danger of their father’s gaze.

“It’s time you learn, girl.” He sneered, his shadow blocking almost all of the light from the glow of the candles. “We caught this Sharran spy sneaking around the castle. Do you know what Sharrans are?”

“Yes, Father.” Kyra replied immediately, keeping her eyes locked on the dagger in her hand.

“This man wanted to kill me in service of his goddess. He’s one of my subjects. Do you know what that means, girl?”

“Treason, Father?”

 “Yes, Kyra. Treason. What fate befits treason?”

“Death.” She gulped, repeating the rules he spouted throughout her childhood.

“Death is but one piece of the puzzle, dear daughter. We must first know what he knows.”

“Should I fetch the castle’s Cleric for a Zone of Truth spell?” The simple question earned her shove to the floor.

“Get up.” He growled. Kyra obeyed in an instant, keeping her eyes on the floor. “Interrogation. But you knew this. Now is not the time for weakness, girl.”

Silence hung in the air for a second before he grabbed her face between his fingers and forced her gaze to meet his.

“I spoke to you, girl. Now is not the time for weakness.” His eyes were nothing like the bright silver of her own – they were dead and devoid of all emotion. Just looking at him made her skin crawl.

“Yes, Father.” She relented, anything to get his attention away from her once again. He only squeezed her cheeks harder and caused the bitter taste of iron to spread across her tongue.

“So, interrogate.” He shoved her once more as he released his grip, storming off to a chair placed in the corner of the room to observe her work.

Kyra stared down at the dagger in her hand and her stomach churned. A dagger usually felt so comfortable in her hand. Used as both a weapon and a tool, it had saved her life on countless occasions. With a single blade, she could kill a bandit, skin a deer and build a shelter in the woods. She had even used one with the more adventurous women she had shared her bed with – but she had never used it to forcibly cause pain to someone before.

She found herself stuck between a rock and a hard place. She could stick to her morals and refuse to do her father’s bidding, or she could likely receive something worse than she would inflict on the man bound before her.

She steadied herself with a breath, closing her eyes as the cool damp air of the dungeons filled her lungs. It didn’t help to steady her as she had hoped, but what choice did she have?

Her eyes raised to meet the gaze of the Sharran spy – he looked terrified. Death, she could understand. Extracting information, she could understand. But torture?

She moved forward, holding the blade loosely in one hand as she approached him.

“Do you want to tell me all you know now, or after?” She offered him an out, silently begging him to take the mercy she offered and save them both the misery of going through with her Father’s wishes.

“Fuck you.” He spat, and her heart sank.

Still, her path was clear – and she attempted to steady herself as she brought the dagger up to his skin.

Tav’s world burst into colour once more as the arrow was torn from her chest. Despite the lack of air in her lungs, her cry of pain pieced the still air of the night. Blood began to warm the side of her body as it seeped from the wound and her heart hammered at the sudden disturbance of her slumber. Her eyes flew open in a rage and, still convinced she was in the depths of her father’s castle, her hand flew up to tighten around the throat of the person responsible for her pain. She had had enough of being pushed around by her father. She had had enough of his tyrannical rule over the Kingdom he ruled. She had spent her entire life being scared of him and she wouldn’t take it anymore. Tav tightened her grip around the throat of the figure hovering above her, turning her face into a sneer and ignoring the pain that shot through her body as she brought her left hand up to join her right. The figure gasped and clawed at her arms as she strained against the pressure.

“Tav…” A familiar voice croaked and pulled Tav from her stupor and her vision cleared to reveal Shadowheart struggling against her grip. Tav’s instinct was to gasp in shock at her actions and release her grip, but instead, she coughed as her arms fell limply to the ground.

“I’m sorry.” She rasped after the coughing subsided, flashing Shadowheart a sorrowful look.

“Shh.” The Dark Justiciar soothed. “It’s alright. That must have been quite a flashback.”

“How did y-“ Tav couldn’t find the breath to finish her sentence, and her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to maintain consciousness.

 “You called out for your father.” She offered Tav a sad smile and allowed her knuckles to graze softly over her cheek. Her hands were warm against the cool clamminess of her skin. “It’ll be alright. He can’t hurt you anymore You’re in Lady Shar’s embrace now.”

The thought almost made Tav retch.

Shadowheart’s hand travelled across Tav’s body, ending its journey hovering over the wound in her chest.

“You took two arrows for me.” She whispered, allowing soft purple magic to flow from her fingertips and Tav felt her skin itch as it was stitched back together. “I’d have been killed if not for you. Thank you.” A flash of a new expression crept across Shadowheart’s face, and Tav had to rub her eyes in order to believe it was real. It was – Shadowheart was blushing. She was… shy?

The thought made Tav’s heart flutter like a petal in a breeze. She didn’t need Shadowheart’s magic to take the pain of her wounds away – simply the soft smile that graced her face now was enough.

Tav was quickly proven wrong when sitting up caused the arrow still embedded in her shoulder to bite further into her muscle and she groaned involuntarily with the pain. Shadowheart soothed her again, holding her close to her chest as the vibrations from her voice soaked into her skin.

“Shh. It’s alright. I’ll make it better.” Shadowheart hummed in a surprisingly soft tone as her hand stroked comforting circles across Tav’s back. Tav couldn’t help the whimper that fell from her lips as Shadowheart’s hand wrapped around the arrow lodged in her shoulder. Her embrace remained soft and magic flowed into Tav’s skin to soothe the pain as Shadowheart slowly pulled out the offending object. Within seconds, Tav’s wounds were healed and her pain had been eased, yet both women remained still on the ground, neither wanting to be the first to break their embrace.

“How do you feel?” Shadowheart’s voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Better. Thank you.” Tav smiled against her chest, her eyelids lulling with the steady beat of the Cleric’s heart. All thoughts of why she was here in the first place had been forgotten. At this moment, it was just the two of them.

“No. Thank you…” Shadowheart responded assertively before her voice turned quiet. “No one’s ever put themselves in harm's way to protect me before.” Tav barely heard the whisper – the words likely more of a revelation for Shadowheart than it was a statement of thanks.

“I won’t hesitate to do it again should the need arise.” Tav whispered back, not sure if she intended for Shadowheart to hear her.

“Are you sure about that?” Shadowheart’s voice lilted with amusement. “You almost died with that arrow in your lung.”

“I’m sure.” Tav responded in the simplest way, but the words carried so much meaning.

“I… I believe you.”

Tav sensed those words carried more weight to Shadowheart than she could ever understand. She had spent decades surrounded by people who only cared about pain and sacrifice when it honoured Shar. Relationships, friendships, bonding of any kind was forbidden. Tav wondered if Shadowheart had ever received a kind word before her, one that was meant wholly and given freely without expectation of something in return – power, healing, sex.

Tav had grown up in a similar manner, but at least she had her brother to lean on when times were hard. Despite how her father had raised her, she had grown to be noble and honest, determined to put some good into the world to lessen the impact of her father’s evil. Tav’s intentions were nothing but pure, but no one approached her in Korella without an ulterior motive, which made her all the more curious as to why Shadowheart had approached her in the first place. Was it truly her acting that had made Shadowheart think she’d be an easy turn, or was it something deeper?

Tav sat straighter in Shadowheart’s arms, bringing their eyes level. Tav had tried to bury her growing feelings for her target, but subtlety had been replaced by affection which clawed away at her chest and desire that burned in the pit of her stomach.

Looking into Shadowheart’s eyes now, she could tell the feelings were mirrored.

Tav’s hooded gaze flicked between green eyes and red lips, feeling the thump of her heart grow more intense with every passing second. At this moment, their masks were shed. They were not a Selûnite and a Sharran, teacher and pupil, hunter and hunted – they were Kyra and Jenevelle, two people with wounds so deep they could never be healed, but each finding a glimmer of hope in the other’s eyes.

Just as their lips ghosted across each other, the Tiefling on the ground beside them groaned in pain.

It felt strange after the way the evening had gone, but luck had somehow been on their side – at least for Shadowheart.

The survival of the Tiefling had meant that Shadowheart had completed the mission that the Mother Superior had sent her out on, much to Warren’s annoyance.

Tav, on the other hand, was exhausted. Something about being pulled back from the brink of death after killing one of her own people and then being forced to confront very inconvenient feelings meant that Tav felt forced to abandon her hope of fulfilling her mission for the night. Even if she had the energy to craft a lie or convince Shadowheart to come with her she was barely able to stay on her own two feet for long enough to get back to the cloister, let alone take Shadowheart back to her parents.

As if Tav’s luck couldn’t get worse, her ‘reward’ for a ‘successful’ mission was to hone her interrogation skills on the prisoner she had caught.

She did, however, find the smallest sliver of luck in being permitted to take a nap before she traumatised someone – likely herself.

But sleep hadn’t found her.

Tav’s mind had been too loud to fall asleep – too full of ‘what ifs’ stemming from fresh guilt that piled on top of old. She spent too long berating herself for her failure to just do what she was supposed to. All she had to do was take the opportunity presented to her and steal Shadowheart away when no one else was around. Instead, she stupidly let herself get followed by Selûnites neither of them had spotted. She was supposed to be a hunter. She was supposed to be better than this. Ryn had trained her better than this. Ryn had spent his entire life teaching Kyra to constantly look over her shoulder for danger, whether in the castle or in the wilds – and now she had besmirched his training – besmirched his memory. For what? A quick fuck with a woman she was supposed to rescue?

Tav couldn’t bear to look at herself. She had failed her brother, she had failed the Selûnites who chased after them, worst of all she had failed Shadowheart. She had allowed herself to become too comfortable in a moment that could have been better spent.

The defences she had built up in her mind from years of external and internal torture crumbled under the new onslaught of intrusive thoughts and she was both happy and frustrated to have a purpose to keep her going.

She felt lost.

She missed her brother.

She missed the moonlight of her goddess.

For all the faults of her title and homeland, she missed having a clear place in the world.

Tav remained on her bed, tightly curled in on herself as she breathed deeply and willed herself not to cry. Her feelings would demand to be felt sooner or later, but for now she needed to remain calm. Too much depended on her and crying in a corner would only be seen as a sign of weakness to the people surrounding her, rather than be seen for the strength of showing vulnerability that it was.

She didn’t need anyone asking any more questions.

Just as Tav found peace with the events of the night, she felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder.

“Tav?” Riley whispered, “Dark Justiciar Shadowheart sent me to fetch you. She said it’s time.”

Shit.

Chapter Text

The cloister had been abuzz with softly spoken rumours ever since Tav and Shadowheart had returned.

Warren had painted quite the picture of the two women fumbling their mission – being so wrapped up in each other that they failed to keep an eye out for any Selûnites and causing a scene when they were approached by a bard.

His story could have been a damning example of the Dark Justiciar’s failure… if she hadn’t returned Selûnite-in-hand.

Instead, the tables had turned for Warren. Sharrans may appreciate subterfuge, but shirking one’s duties to spy on a Dark Justiciar wasn’t acceptable at the best of times. He might have gotten away with it if Shadowheart and Tav had returned empty-handed… but they hadn’t. Instead, they told tales of being ambushed by Selûnites after having their cover blown, and the entire tavern’s attention drawn to them because of Warren.

Everyone knew that Warren had always been too proud for his own good, but his behaviour now just seemed reckless – either he was jealous that Tav was getting more attention than him, or there was something deeper going on…

It seemed ever so convenient that the Selûnites found out two Sharrans were after them… almost as if Warren had interrupted Tav and Shadowheart on purpose.

He wasn’t astute enough to realise it, but the eyes of everyone in the cloister were intensely focused on Warren.

Shadowheart stood obscured by shadow in the corner of the candelabra-lit room, eyes dark and focused. They had both known how close they had been to returning empty-handed and how the Mother Superior would have had them punished for their failure. Even in the darkness, Tav could see the intense need to succeed shining in her eyes, now tinged with the need for revenge – whether it was aimed at the Selûnite for ambushing and interrupting them, or at Warren for breaking their cover, Tav didn’t know, but only one of them would feel Shadowheart’s wrath.

Tav wasn’t sure whether the cloister was colder than normal, or if the weight of the task at hand was causing her blood to chill. Either way, her skin prickled with the cold sting of goosebumps and her clothes were damp from a cold sweat.

Her feet were cemented to the cold stone floor and her mouth was as dry as though she had just chewed on a cotton blanket.

She knew this day would come if she didn’t succeed quickly enough. Sharrans were just as brutal with their training as they were in the wider world. So far, the brutality had only been aimed at the initiates themselves, but at some point they had to get used to inflicting pain upon others.

What Tav didn’t realise was that she’d be made to interrogate another Selûnite. It seemed silly to be so anxious about this task when just hours ago her dagger had taken the life of another Selûnite, but as horrible as it had been – it could be justified. The man held a bow up to the woman she was protecting – she had acted on instinct to neutralise a threat. But now, this Tiefling was strapped to a torture rack – defenceless and scared. And Tav knew exactly what she was doing.

The dagger in her hand felt as though it was made of pure lead.

Tav would love to believe she’d feel the same apprehension about any other person presented to her – but the woman’s silver hair reflecting in Tav’s silver eyes reminded her of their shared heritage.

Selûne had found her when she was lost, alone and scared in the middle of the wilds she usually found such solace in. It might have been her imagination, but she could have sworn that as a falling tear splashed against a leaf, the clouds parted to allow the moon the light her way. She had felt Selûne’s presence every day since that day – until she stepped into the cloister.

Was this woman lost like Tav had been all those years ago?

“Is this really necessary, Shadowheart?”

Luckily it was just the two of them in the room… three, including the woman on the rack. These ‘interrogation’ lessons appeared to be a more private affair than their lessons on Shar’s thirteen truths – a situation she was grateful for. The last thing she wanted was Warren breathing down her neck or ‘showing her how it was done’ – not that he’d be given the chance after the stunt he had pulled.

Dickhead.

“Need it even be mentioned, Tav? Of course it’s necessary. Mere hours ago, you killed this one’s accomplice and then helped me to capture her.” Shadowheart’s tone was sharper than Tav had anticipated, and she tried to hide the sting she felt upon hearing it. It was quickly replaced by a chill up her spine as Shadowheart suddenly appeared behind her, her lips brushing against her ear as she spoke. “And might I remind you of what they interrupted?” Her breath was hot against Tav’s skin – her tone teasing and seductive. The chills Shadowheart had caused seconds before turned to fire in her veins and her eyes rolled back involuntarily as her teeth clamped down on her lip and heat pooled in her stomach. “Show me what these hands can do to this dirty Selûnite, and you might be lucky enough to show me what else they can do…” Tav felt Shadowheart’s lips smirk against her skin as she let the vague promise hang over them.

Tav was so close to being convinced. She could picture exactly what she would do – she could already feel every stroke of the dagger she’d use to extract information from the Tiefling. Her Father had been a master at his tyrannical craft and had taught his children to be just as good – perhaps she could even teach Shadowheart a thing or two before using the same hands to make her forget her own name. Tav’s eyelids fluttered at the thought as her hand gripped her dagger tighter and a shaky breath escaped her lips.

“I know you want me, Tav. I can see it in your face.” Shadowheart brought her hand up to Tav’s cheek, gently coaxing her head to turn closer to her waiting lips. “I can feel it on your skin.” Shadowheart’s other hand ghosted under the fabric of Tav’s shirt to splay across the dimples of her lower back. Tav’s body buzzed involuntarily at the touch but stayed rooted in place, afraid to move even the slightest amount in case Shadowheart took the opportunity to increase the distance between them. “And if I were to kiss you,” Shadowheart continued, ghosting her lips across the skin of Tav’s jaw “I’d be able to taste it on your lips.”

Tav clenched her jaw in response, trying desperately to remain steady on legs that had turned to jelly.

“I can mould you into the perfect Sharran, Tav.” Shadowheart drawled and Tav’s heart skipped a beat for an entirely different reason – an icy chill spreading across skin that had been on fire mere seconds before. “All you have to do is embrace it.” The hand holding Tav’s face steady just millimetres away from Shadowheart’s lips traced a path down to wrap around Tav’s hand, tracing her fingers across the blade in Tav’s grip as she moved. “Make your choice.”

Tav’s mind sat in absolute silence, unable to form a single thought as long as Shadowheart’s skin was pressed against hers. Although her brain remained silent, Tav’s heart screamed, begging for her to remember herself. Her mission was to save the Sharran, not become one, and yet here she was – hand on a dagger ready to torture this poor woman that she helped to capture after killing her friend.

If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up just like her father.

Shadowheart appeared to sense her hesitation, offering what she assumed to be a comforting smile and softening her voice to assuage Tav’s nerves.

“I’ve seen you do great things in the name of Shar, Tav. You can do this too.”

Instead of feeling comforted, a wave of disgust washed over the hunter. It took every ounce of effort she had to not let it show on her face.

Tav couldn’t form the words to respond – luckily, she didn’t have to as they were interrupted by a hesitant knock at the door.

Shadowheart’s eyes hardened in an instant as she created an ‘acceptable’ amount of space between them. Tav suddenly felt cold at the lack of contact, yearning for Shadowheart’s skin on hers once more, all thoughts of morals forgotten.

“Enter.” Shadowheart’s sharp voice bounced against the stone room. A shadowed figure slunk past the door in response – one of the sentries.

“Dark Justiciar. The Mother Superior has requested your expertise in interrogating another captive. Another Selûnite followed you from the tavern. They were captured trying to sneak into the cloister.”

“Another one?” Shadowheart seemed confused – somehow disappointed she couldn’t stay and intrigued at the idea of a new captive. Everyone was always so eager to bring pain to Selûnites – would Shadowheart do the same to her if she found out?

“Yes, Dark Justiciar.” The sentry replied.

“Well, it’s a shame I won’t see your handiwork in action.” Shadowheart sighed, turning back towards Tav and flicking hungry eyes across her figure. Uncaring of the eyes of the Sentry on them both, Shadowheart closed the gap between them once more, taking Tav’s chin softly between her fingers. Her thumb brushed lightly across a bottom lip that parted from the top at the contact. Green eyes gazed hazily at the soft skin under her thumb, and Shadowheart’s teeth captured her own lips in a hungry smirk. “But if you do well,” She drawled breathily, “I’ll see that you’re rewarded.”

Making sure to drag her eyes across Tav’s body, Shadowheart begrudgingly left Tav alone with the bound Tiefling, eyes wide in terror and her skin already covered in bruises.

Tav stayed motionless in front of the torture devices laid out on the table in front of her. Her gaze was distant – unfocused – mirroring the state of her mind. She couldn’t find the energy to be surprised at her current situation. Although she had been hired by Jenevelle’s parent to find her and bring her home, what had really drawn her into the cloister had been Shadowheart appearing out of the darkness with a beauty that had set her heart and soul on fire.

Tav loved to think of herself as a strong, capable hunter of the wilds, having shed the baggage of her old life to rely entirely on herself – but she was weak. It was becoming clear that Tav had morals as long as a pretty girl wasn’t standing in front of her.

For the first time, she truly doubted her ability to complete the mission she had been set – not because of the difficulty of smuggling a Sharran out from a cloister, but because of her seeming inability to forsake Shadowheart.

But where did that leave her with the Tiefling?

Tav released the breath she didn’t realise she was holding and focused her eyes on the prisoner, feeling a pang of guilt when a tear fell down the woman’s cheek only to be soaked up by the piece of cloth that wrapped around her mouth. A squeal of fear tore through her throat as Tav broke her motionless stance and began to close the distance between them.

As horrible as it felt to have the woman cower before her, after feeling powerless for most of her life – Tav couldn’t help but admit it was exhilarating.

Wordlessly Tav moved behind the woman, forcing herself to keep her eyes on the dark stone floor so as to try not to feel anything towards the woman.

Maybe feeling nothing would make what she was about to do easier.

The woman shook like a leaf in a storm as Tav raised the dagger up to her face – and swiftly cut the fabric that kept her silenced.

“Please.” The woman sobbed through a croaky voice, “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Tav sighed, she knew she had made the correct choice, but following through with it would likely mean both breaking her promise to the Hallowleafs and never seeing Shadowheart again. Better to save a true Selûnite than cause pain in the hope of converting a Sharran.

“What are you going to do to me then?” She sniffled, appearing wary and untrusting of Tav’s change in demeanour. The last thing she expected from a Sharran cloister was to be rescued by a Sharran – something Tav was determined to prove to herself she was not.

“I’m getting you out of here.” Tav was almost surprised she was saying it. Helping the Tiefling escape would force her to flee or be killed as punishment for failure. It felt like giving up everything she had been working towards – at least she’d be able to let the Hallowleafs know their daughter was alive. Perhaps she could join up with other Selûnites and mount an attack on the cloister to take Shadowheart by force. Tav cut the ropes securing the woman to the torture rack and rushed to her side as she slumped to the floor, wary to keep her distance but eager to help her to her feet.

The woman stared at the hand Tav offered to help her up.

“I know it's confusing, but I need you to trust me. I’m putting my own neck on the line to help you here.”

“Is this a trick? Gain my trust to get me to give you information before you kill me? Is that it?” The woman eyed Tav’s hand suspiciously.

“I promise it’s not.” Tav tried to soothe the woman, but she knew trust was a lost cause in a place like this. “I know trusting me is the last thing you want to do, but it’s the only chance you have to stay alive. If you stay in here you’ll be dead in a matter of hours, maybe even days depending on who’s assigned to you. Your odds aren’t much better with me, but at least they’re not set in stone.”

The woman eyed the dagger still clutched in Tav’s hand.

“What’s the stop me from killing you and making my own way out?”

“Nothing.” Tav cracked a smile, holding the dagger by the blade and offering the hilt to the Tiefling. “But at least I know the way out.”

“I suppose you’re right.” The woman huffed, reaching out to take the hand without the dagger.

“What’s your name?” Tav tried not to let her voice betray her relief.

“Nerali.” The woman answered, suspicion still evident in her body. “What’s yours?”

“Kyra.”

“Kyra? But the other woman called you Tav.” She eyed Tav with a greater suspicion.

“Tav is a pseudonym – given to me by my brother when we were children. Kyra is the name my parents gave me.” She hated to call back to her time in Korella, but maybe using her real name to try and rescue this woman could help to soothe the ache of the past. Whatever reason Tav had to share her true name was overshadowed when Nerali finally offered a smile in return, although her eyes remained wary.

“Kyra…Okay… Why are you here? You don’t seem like the other Sharrans?”

“It’s a long story, but no, I’m not like the Sharrans here. I plan to keep it that way.”

“As intrigued as I am, I’m not stupid enough to think I have time to question you further.” Nerali sighed, “I just hope you’re not keeping anything from me that might put me in more danger.”

“All you need to know is that I don’t want you dead.”

“What about my friend?” The mere mention caused the memory of Tav’s dagger implanting in the man’s skull to flash through her mind, and the feeling of disgust crept back up her throat.

“I…” Tav chewed on her lip as she racked her brain for anything to say – Nerali was right, why would she trust Tav when she took the life of her friend mere hours ago? “I threw the dagger before I saw the silver hair.”

“Hair the colour of your eyes, I notice.” Nerali pressed, flashing Tav an inquisitive look.

“A mere coincidence, I assure you.” Tav’s voice was sharp, careful to protect her identity even now. Letting on that she was a Selûnite was more likely to be a death sentence than helping one escape.

“If you say so.” A knowing smile crept across Nerali’s face and Tav was relieved she was choosing not to press further. “As long as you realise that once I leave, I’m heading to my outpost to get every ablebody I can to break my other friend out from here.”

“I might have to join you if things don’t work out well.” Tav sighed, just barely loud enough for the Tiefling to hear.

“I don’t know much about you, but it seems like my people might suit you better than this cloister.”

Nerali had a point. Tav had been miserable since entering the cloister. Ever since she had stepped foot in this place, she hadn’t gone a second without feeling as though her life was threatened. The only good things about her time here had been Riley and Shadowheart – but if either of them found out about her true identity, she had no doubt they’d turn on her.

Tav was exhausted. Maybe it would just be easier to escape and come back with a small army.

“Let’s just see what happens. Come on, we’re wasting time.”

Tav was wary to call it luck, but everyone was on such high alert with threats of Selûnites breaking into the cloister, that none of them seemed to focus on anything going on within the cloister. Ensuring Nerali’s hair and horns were covered, Tav led her through the quiet corridors toward the unguarded secret exit. Usually used for the disposal of corpses, the empty corridors led them deeper into the rock, through catacombs made from the bones of long-deceased Dark Justiciars and past the odd cavern with hints of the Underdark in the form of glowing mushrooms. The walk only took them a few minutes, yet it felt as though they were a lifetime away from the Sharrans that posed such a threat. Finally, they reached a staircase that would lead them up to a hidden mausoleum on the surface.

But Tav hesitated.

Shadowheart’s face suddenly flashed into her mind.

Could she be certain she’d see her again if she were to leave?

Could she be certain that Shadowheart wouldn’t be hurt in a Selûnite attack on the cloister?

At least if she stayed behind, she could offer some protection.

Maybe it would be the perfect time to come clean?

“Go ahead without me.” Tav said simply.

“You’re not coming?”

“I can do more here.”

“If you’re sure.” Nerali smiled, “I hope we can meet again. Thank you, Kyra. You were true to your word.”

“You’re welcome.” Tav couldn’t quite put it into words, but hearing her real name healed a part of her deep inside. “Stay safe.”

Tav felt a weight lift off her shoulders as Nerali turned to make her way up the stairs to the surface. She had no idea how she was going to explain the loss of Tiefling to Shadowheart – perhaps she could say her unskilled hand killed the woman before she was able to get any information, so she came down here to dispose of the body?

Her thoughts were cut off by Nerali’s ear-piercing scream bouncing off the walls of the corridor as a firebolt hit her square in the back.

Perhaps she wouldn’t have to think of an excuse after all.

“I’m not familiar with this interrogation technique, Kyra. Care to enlighten me?” Shadowheart’s voice appeared from behind her, but as she attempted to turn around, she found she was being magically held in place. “Or is it just that you’re letting our Selûnite go?”

Shadowheart didn’t even give Tav a passing glance and she moved swiftly towards Nerali, but even in her frozen state, Tav managed to catch a pained expression plastered across the Dark Justiciar’s features – hurt. It stabbed deeper than any knife ever could.

“All you’ve done is grant her a quicker death.” Shadowheart bit, turning back towards Tav to grab the dagger now sheathed to her hip. “Her blood is on your hands.”

In one swift movement, Shadowheart wrenched Nerali up by her silver locks, tilting her head back to expose the lilac skin of her neck, before dragging the blade into her flesh and pushing her limp form back to the floor. Tav wanted to scream, to cry, but instead, she felt her heart rip in two. She had caused Nerali to get captured and then given her the hope of seeing her family again before it got cruelly ripped away by the woman she was trying to save.

Shadowheart’s eyes were fierce as she turned back to Tav, dagger still in hand. She huffed raggedly through clenched teeth and grabbed Tav by her collar, pushing the still-bloodied blade firmly against her skin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kyra.” Her tone was vicious, but Tav couldn’t help but notice her green eyes were filled with tears that threatened to fall. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

Shadowheart’s arm swung back and a sharp pain in Tav’s skull caused everything to go black.

Kyra’s feet pounded against the ground of the forest, each step pushing her further and further away from the castle where she had just taken the life of another one of her father’s enemies. Her eyes stung from a mix of strong wind, cold, sharp raindrops and hot tears pooling in her eyes, all affecting her half-elven vision to the point where all she could see were the blurred outlines of imposing trees and dark bushes around her.  The blood of the man she had taken the life of still covered her up to her elbows and painted her favourite pyjamas a sickly red.

She was still just a child.

Her father dragged her from her warm bed in the middle of the night, away from the comfort of her stuffed wolf and her brother next door to a damp, cold dungeon filled with the screams and cries of people who wished harm on her family.

Torture was becoming easier now.

For all his faults, her father was a good teacher.

She was certain she had given the man the most excruciating experience of his life – and in his dying breath, he had inflicted equal pain on her.

“You’re just like your father.”

Those five words alone were enough for the princess to empty the contents of her stomach over the floor.

Then she ran.

In the middle of a storm, still in her pyjamas and without looking back, Kyra sprinted as hard as she could towards the one place she felt safe – where her father could never find her. But still being so young, without light or weapons and in the middle of a storm, it didn’t take long before Kyra found herself entirely lost.

She knew the basics of surviving in the wild, but her brother had always been there to guide her. She would have been fine on her own if she had been equipped and prepared, but in the dark and with no way to defend herself, she quickly realised how vulnerable she had let herself become.

A low growl emanated from the darkness of the trees behind her.

If she wasn’t cold enough already, Kyra’s entire body erupted in goosebumps – the extra chill on her skin signalling that she was in mortal danger. These wolves didn’t offer comfort and safety like the one still tucked in her bed, and Kyra didn’t need to see them to know she was being hunted.

The young half-elf closed her eyes to fully pay attention to the sounds of her surroundings. She sensed three predators in her vicinity, flanking her and surrounding her from the right.

In a split second, the wolf behind her surged forward from its position, running at full pelt towards her with its teeth bared and hackles raised. Unencumbered by any of the equipment that would normally slow her down, Kyra’s reflexes kicked into action, and she dropped to the ground just as the wolf pounced, causing its jaws to snap on nothing but air. It scrambled on the floor to regain its balance, giving Kyra precious seconds to scramble up a nearby tree. The wolf, now joined by the other two, scratched at the bark in an attempt to climb up, but its attempts were futile, and it stalked the base of the tree for a while before finally giving up and running off deeper into the forest.

Kyra was scratched up, covered in a stranger’s blood and soaked through from the rain, but at least she was safe for a moment.

Three days later, Kyra still hadn’t managed to find her way home. Having no tools or weapons, she had only managed to survive on berries and rainwater collected in leaves. The weather had been relentless, and the storm had continued to rage on for days. With only her now tattered pyjamas to protect her from the elements and the wood in the forest being too wet to create a fire, the young princess knew hypothermia had set in and she would die unless she found safety soon.

As the sun set again over the wilds of Korella, Kyra got ready to settle in for another night shivering in the meagre shelter she had constructed, almost certain it would be her last night. She wondered if anyone would find her – if Ryn would ever find out what happened to her. The guilt of leaving him on his own clawed at her enough to draw tears from her dehydrated body. But instead of sinking into her last slumber, Kyra felt a creeping warm presence surround her. It was a foreign sensation to the young princess – like the warmth of a loving mother’s embrace telling her not to give up – to use the last of her energy to try and survive rather than just lie down and die.

Reluctantly, Kyra gave in, willing her sore and tired muscles to climb to the top of a tree to look over her surroundings one more time in an attempt to find refuge – but the storm clouds still prevented her from seeing anything but the misty canopy of trees. Kyra didn’t know what she had expected – the storm had been raging on ever since she had run away from the castle, it would have felt like divine intervention if anything were to change about the weather just because she wanted it to. Defeated, she rested her weight against a sturdy branch and allowed herself to cry as she accepted her fate. But just as a tear fell from her cheek and splashed against a leaf, a ray of moonlight caught her eye. Looking back up to the sky, Kyra noticed the clouds parting and the fog lifting to give her a crystal-clear view of the forest – and in the distance, a single torchlight.

“Tav?” She heard a voice echo through the trees. Only one person knew of that nickname.

“Ryn!” She shouted back as she made her way to descend the tree, careful not to injure herself at the final hurdle.

“Tav!” Her brother called back, closer this time.

In the now moonlit forest, Kyra sprinted towards the sound as fast as her tired legs could carry her.

Just as she reached her brother, a sharp rasp at a wooden door roused Tav from her sleep, and the memory of the pain from being lost in the wilds was replaced with a pounding headache. It took a second for Tav to realise where she was – who she was. No longer a lost, scared princess – now an orphan and a hunter stuck in a Sharran cloister by her own choice.

Tav kept her eyes firmly shut as she heard footsteps travel towards the door.

“Nocturne? What’s going on?” Shadowheart’s soft voice sounded like a symphony of angels against the backdrop of her memories. It was so easy to forget everything else and let the sound occupy her mind entirely.

“They think it’s her, Shadowheart. The Mother Superior will send for her if the true mole isn’t found.” Tav recognised the voice as the only other person (apart from her) that Shadowheart ever appeared happy to see. Nocturne didn’t seem to be like the other Sharrans – too soft-spoken and kind, never wishing to travel further than the walls of the cloister. Although it seemed as though the Tiefling had spent most of her life inside the cult, it appeared that their attempts at indoctrinating her had only gone so far – Sharrans weren’t supposed to care about people, but Tav could tell the opposite was true for Nocturne.

“I told you, Nocturne, it’s not her. You need to focus on the others.” Shadowheart’s voice was sharper than it usually was when she spoke with Nocturne, but Tav’s mind was still too hazy to work out what was happening.

“What makes you so sure?” Nocturne pushed gently, “I know you’ve taken a liking to her, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t betrayed you.”

“Betraying me is the last thing she would do.” Shadowheart scoffed, “I saw it in her eyes when I was in danger – she would have done anything to protect me, and she did. She killed and captured Selûnites. Just because she tried to rescue one doesn’t make her a Selûnite, it makes her a fool, and I will deal with her as a fool. Warren on the other hand? Maybe you should take a better look at him?”

Tav’s blood ran cold at Shadowheart’s statement. All she had done was try to help Nerali escape and now they thought a mole was in the cloister?

“You really think it’s Warren?” Nocturne pondered, pushing for an explanation.

“Ever since he came into the cloister, it’s felt like he’s had something to prove. He’s making so much effort to be ‘the best Sharran’, but he’s completely out for himself. He’s the one who followed us and broke our cover at the Elfsong, he’s the one who got us followed and then he suddenly disappeared right before we got ambushed?”

“You do make a compelling argument.” Nocturne reasoned, “Alright, if you’re sure, I’ll put some resources in place.”

“Thank you, Nocturne.” Relief filled Shadowheart’s voice.

“Don’t thank me. Just keep yourself safe. The Mother Superior’s out for blood. Don’t let it be yours… or hers.”

As the click of the door assured her they were alone, Tav opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. She had been so preoccupied with Shadowheart and Nocturne’s conversation that she hadn’t stopped to think about where she was, but finding herself on Shadowheart’s bed in Shadowheart’s room was a pleasant surprise. After the way Shadowheart had found her trying to help Nerali escape, she fully expected to be on the same torture rack she rescued the Tiefling from. Beside the bed was evidence of a cleric having been at work – unwound bandages and herbs used for medicine beside a chair that appeared to have been slept in. Shadowheart taking care of her was definitely not something she expected. Tav moved to push herself into a seated position on the bed, only to realise too late that her limbs were chained to the bed, causing her to fall back onto the mattress with a soft thud.

“Finally woken up, have we?” Shadowheart’s asked in an annoyed voice which starkly contrasted the sound of concern from moments ago.

“What was that about?” Tav’s voice croaked to life. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious, but it was long enough for her throat to feel like a desert.

“You don’t get to ask questions, Kyra.” Shadowheart hissed, as she moved towards the foot of the bed, swaying her hips with every step. Tav’s mouth got drier at the sight. “But if you must know, there’s a Selûnite mole in the cloister who’s been passing information to the outside.”

“How do you know?” Tav’s heart started to pound in her chest. She may be a Selûnite, but she certainly wasn’t a mole. Had another Selûnite infiltrated the cloister?

“It turns out there were three Selûnites in the place we were ambushed. One you killed, one we captured, and one who followed us back to the cloister. Naturally, they were caught when they tried to break in and rescue our prisoner, and during interrogation they let slip that there was a mole implanted in the latest lot of initiates who was feeding them information.”

“Another mole? Are we sure it’s not the two who were killed on the first day?” Tav wondered aloud.

“We’re sure. They had recent information about our movements.”

“So that means that out of six initiates, three were Selûnite plants?” Tav tried to appear shocked and not let on that there were actually four, including her.

“It does. Horrific, isn’t it? Selûnites really can’t find anything better to do than try to disrupt Lady Shar’s work.”

Shadowheart’s eyes turned towards a dagger that rested at the foot of the bed, picking it up gently in her fingers, before turning green eyes back to Tav.

“Why were you disrupting the work of Lady Shar, Kyra?” She asked with thinly veiled malice, not allowing Tav to answer before she climbed onto her body, straddling her hips and holding the blade of the dagger up to her throat. “Who are you?”

“That’s not my name.” Tav rasped, keeping her gaze levelled on Shadowheart’s. A twinge of confusion in the Cleric’s expression told Tav she was caught off guard.

“Then why did you tell that Selûnite bitch it was?” Shadowheart growled, pressing the blade more firmly against Tav’s skin. Was that a hint of jealousy that Tav was seeing?

“Kyra was my name. Tav is my name.”

Shadowheart regarded her with suspicion, green eyes flicking across Tav’s face to pick up any sign of dishonesty. Seemingly satisfied, she continued.

“Who are you hiding from?” Her voice was still sharp, as though the answer could put Tav back into dangerous territory.

“My father.” Tav gulped, careful to stick as close to the truth as possible without giving away her identity. Telling a Sharran that she was the absconded heir to the throne of a powerful country would cause more problems than she could imagine. “My father named me, but he wasn’t a father really. He was a drunk. He hurt us. My brother nicknamed me Tav after a knight in the stories my mother read to him when she was alive.” The words were so close to the truth that the memories began to flood back once more forming tears that caused Tav’s eyes to sting. “He just went crazy one day. He killed my brother. He tried to kill me. I thought he succeeded until I woke up in a ditch.” Tav’s voice broke as she motioned for Shadowheart to lift up her shirt. Silently the Cleric obliged, adjusting her weight and releasing the pressure on the dagger to see the dark scar that her father had inflicted on her the day he was killed. Shadowheart gasped upon looking at it, running the fingers of her free hand across the still-angry-looking flesh. “When I awoke, I found out that he had been ‘put down’ by some people from a nearby village. I hated him. I didn’t want anything to do with him, so I decided to let Kyra die like he had intended and just become Tav. That’s when I came here – for a new life.”

Shadowheart’s eyes met Tav’s once more, softer now, and her hand moved from the scar on her abdomen to wipe away a tear that trickled down her cheek.

“Then why did you tell Nerali your name?” Shadowheart pressed.

“I wanted her to trust me. To do that I had to share a secret with her. Something she could use to hurt me if I betrayed her.”

“It all makes sense now – why you tried to free her.” Shadowheart’s eyes remained soft, but Tav was surprised when the dagger was pushed back against her throat. “You’re a bleeding heart. You saw a woman in the same position your father put you in and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt her.”

Tav nodded – it was close enough to the truth. Shadowheart smiled softly in response, before leaning down to whisper in Tav’s ear.

“But if you ever betray me again, I’ll put you on that rack myself.” Shadowheart’s breath grazed against Tav’s skin, sending chills across her body. She felt Shadowheart smirk against her before lifting herself up again to look Tav in the eyes. “Do you understand?” The way Shadowheart breathed the question suggested it wasn’t something she expected an answer to, but Tav nodded regardless.

“Good girl.” The statement drew Tav’s breath from her lungs and lit a fire in the pit of her stomach. Her lips parted as she looked up at Shadowheart with furrowed eyebrows, only to be met with a kiss so passionate she almost forgot her own name. Without removing her lips from Tav’s, Shadowheart threw the dagger onto the floor, utilising both free hands to hold the Hunter’s face still beneath her own. Tav’s arms moved involuntarily to hold Shadowheart’s hips in place against her own, but the clatter of the chains reminded her of her current position.

“Can you take these off?” Tav gasped through ragged breaths.

“No. That’s not how this is going to work.” Shadowheart replied simply with a growing smirk, pushing Tav back down into the bed with one hand, and using the other to lift one of Tav’s legs between her own. The black, skin-tight gown that Shadowheart wore made two things immediately obvious: Shadowheart wasn’t wearing any underwear, and she wanted Tav so badly that her desire was already dripping down her leg. “You don’t get to touch me. This is your punishment.”

“Seems like an odd punishment?” Tav groaned in half protest, half pleasure as Shadowheart ground herself into Tav’s thigh, letting a hungry moan escape her lips with every buck of her hips.

“There’s no sweeter torment than making a lover wait.” Seeking more contact, the cleric pushed her back up straighter, using one hand to hook around Tav’s thigh for added pressure and the other to push Tav further into the bed. Tav could do nothing but watch as the most beautiful woman she’d ever met used Tav’s body as a sex toy, completely unable to move or touch her back. Shadowheart was right, this was perhaps the greatest torment Tav had ever experienced.

“Let me touch you.” Tav begged through ragged breaths, “Please.”

Shadowheart didn’t respond immediately, her rational mind and horny mind seemingly at war with each other as she deliberated her options. They both knew that Tav was entirely at Shadowheart’s will – even with the shackles removed.

Without ruminating for more than a few moments, Shadowheart waved her fingers and breathed out a spell, causing the shackles around Tav’s wrists to fall apart. Tav rose up in an instant, wrapping one arm around Shadowheart’s shoulder to keep her steady and using the other to slip between the heat of her legs. Shadowheart’s jaw fell open and her eyes rolled back at the new sensation. Not trusting herself to stay up, she leaned into Tav’s body, letting the Hunter hold all of her weight as she bit into her shoulder to dampen the sounds of her growing moans. As the coil in the pit of Shadowheart’s stomach wound tighter, she ground herself harder and deeper onto Tav’s dexterous fingers, finding exactly the spot she needed to come undone. Tav’s lips attached themselves to Shadowheart’s neck as she encouraged her to continue, thrusting her wrist in time with each of Shadowheart’s movements to bring the Cleric closer to the edge.

“Oh gods, Tav.” Shadowheart groaned as her body shook in ecstasy and she buried her head in the nape of Tav’s neck as she rode out her high. Tav felt the weight of the world lift off her shoulders at the sound of her chosen name, and the hand holding Shadowheart steady began to absentmindedly move in slow circles across her back. Still panting, but back in control of her own body, Shadowheart lifted her head from Tav’s shoulder and brought a hand up to cup the Hunter’s cheek. Tav saw a vulnerability in Shadowheart’s eyes that she hadn’t expected.

The two women embraced in the comfortable silence as their eyes flicked lazily across the other’s face, searing the image and the memory of this moment into their minds.

Appearing to forget herself for a moment, Shadowheart closed the gap between their lips once more, capturing Tav’s lips in a tender, but desperate kiss. The beat of Shadowheart’s heart pounded against Tav’s chest and Tav couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on in Shadowheart’s mind. This wasn’t the behaviour of a Sharran who wanted a quick fuck, and it certainly hadn’t been the punishment she had intended it to be. Shadowheart was behaving as though she was finally able to express deeply buried feelings for someone… feelings she expected and hoped mirrored her own.

Almost as though Shadowheart had sensed Tav’s thoughts, she pushed herself away, a look of fear crossing her face for a split second before she managed to compose herself.

“Don’t do that.” She bit through a still-breathy voice.

“Don’t do what?” Tav asked, confused.

“Don’t kiss me like that – tenderly, like you have feelings for me or something.” Tav realised she was right about Shadowheart’s feelings, but the Cleric denying them so strongly hurt more than she realised.

“I…”

“This was a mistake.” Shadowheart sighed as she pushed herself off Tav’s body and rose from the bed.

“Oh…” Was all Tav could manage as she watched Shadowheart move away with disgust. Tav hadn’t felt this small or rejected since she was a child. Any attempts to rationalise Shadowheart’s reaction fell on deaf ears. She had allowed herself to fall for Shadowheart, Shadowheart appeared to feel the same for her, but her religion would never allow her to love anyone but her Goddess.

Tav was more invested in breaking Shadowheart out than ever.

Before either of them could speak again, there was another knock at the door, louder and more persistent than it had been the first time.

Shadowheart moved over to the door with a huff and yelped as she was shoved up against the wall by sentries the moment she unbolted the door.

“What’s going on? What’s the meaning of this? Unhand me this instant.” She shouted at sentries, two of which had her pinned while the other moved towards a still-shackled Tav.

“One of your initiates is a mole, Dark Justiciar. That makes three in one cohort. The Mother Superior wants you to answer for your failure to spot them.” The sentry sneered, shackling Shadowheart’s wrists behind her back as he dragged her from the room.

“Shadowheart!” Tav cried after her, struggling to free herself from the chains in a futile attempt to escape.

“Oh, don’t worry, initiate. You’ll be with her again very soon.” One of the sentries moving towards her taunted as he raised the butt of his sword up to knock her unconscious.

“Not agai-“ Tav’s protest was cut off as the metal cracked against her skull, sending her unconscious for the second time that day.

Chapter Text

The familiar feeling of soft, warm lips pressing tenderly on Kyra’s jaw stirred her gently from her slumber. The warm hand of the woman beside her exploring the firm muscles of her stomach re-sparked the fire that had been quenched just prior to drifting off.

“There she is.” The woman’s soft voice husked before dragging her teeth gently across Kyra’s jaw.

“Serana…” Kyra hummed, almost too comfortable to move in the bed that perfectly moulded to every curve of their bodies. “Do you need to leave already?”

“Not for a while yet.” Serana’s lips tickled Kyra’s jaw as they quirked into a smirk. “But since our time is short before you leave for battle, I thought we could make the most of the time we have… considering I give the dashing warrior princess enough sleep prior to sending her on her way… Do you feel well rested, Your Highness?”

Kyra smiled affectionately as she opened her eyes. The barest amount of sunlight illuminated her room from the beginnings of the sunrise starting to peak over the horizon. The candles they had lit the previous night were just beginning to wane and the room was bathed in warmth. Serana, the castle’s apprentice Cleric and Kyra’s first love lay beside her – the curves of her naked form were phosphorescent against the dim lighting of the room, and her dark shoulder-length hair silhouetted her beautiful face.

Kyra dragged the tips of her fingers across the bare skin of her lover’s hips, letting a sigh escape her lips as she shrugged off the last of her sleep.

“I never fail to feel anything but energised when I see you like this.”

“Good.” Serana smiled, leaning forward to capture the lips of Korella’s second-in-line to the throne. “Then take a mental picture. I want this image seared into your mind so you’re on top form for your trip.”

“You don’t think this would be distracting?” Kyra chuckled as Serana leaned over to straddle her hips. Kyra’s hands sat comfortably on the Cleric’s thighs, holding her steady.

“Only if you let it be.” Serana leaned back down to pepper light kisses on Kyra’s jaw. “But I know you. You fight harder when you have something to fight for – someone to fight for…” Serana faltered in her ministrations to peer deeply into Kyra’s silver eyes. “I need you to focus out there, Kyra. I need you to come back to me… I love you.”

Kyra’s heart skipped a beat at the admission. She had known it from the moment she had clapped eyes on the Cleric, but to hear her feelings reflected back at her felt like a drug coursing through her system.

“You love me?” She breathed, the volume of her question almost imperceptible.

“I love you.”

“I lo-“

Kyra’s confession was cut off by the bang of the doors to her room being forced open and the clatter of two armoured knights marching into the room. Serana leapt off Kyra’s body in a flash and both women pulled the blanket over their chests to cover themselves against the intruders.

“What is the meaning of this?” Kyra shouted, anger at the interruption causing a harsh bite in her voice, but fear for the reasoning behind the intrusion causing the slightest quiver.

From between the two knights, her father appeared.

“I expected better of you, daughter. Bedding a servant is one thing, but falling in love with them? Pathetic.” He seethed as his eyes bore into Serana.

“What? How long have you-”

“Just long enough to hear the pathetic confession. I learned about this… tryst this evening and thought I’d pay you both a little visit to remind you of your places.” The King snapped his fingers and the knights surged forward to grab Serana and pull her from Kyra’s bed.

“Release her!” Kyra screamed at the knights, but her authority was ignored in the presence of her father.

“That won’t be happening, Daughter. Your lover will be killed. Maybe next time think about bedding someone with noble blood, rather than the help.”

A thousand names to call her father flashed through her mind. She could shout, she could scream, she could threaten, but nothing she could do would change his mind once it was set. If she had any hope of saving Serana, her father would need to die.

In a flash, Kyra grabbed a dagger from under her pillow and lunged towards her father’s throat, barely nicking the skin before his hand caught her wrist.

“Stupid girl.” He spat, wrenching the dagger from her grip and plunging it into her stomach. Kyra’s vision blurred and her legs quivered from the immediate rush of pain as blood seeped from the wound. “You better get that injury seen to. Such a shame we don’t have a Cleric’s Apprentice anymore.”

Without any further flourish, the King swept out of the room, followed by the two knights dragging Serana kicking and screaming between them. A swift punch to the gut rendered Kyra unable to support her own weight and she collapsed on the floor in a heap as she helplessly watched her love be dragged away. The tears in her eyes stung worse than the dagger in her gut.

Through the pain, Kyra barely noticed when Ryn appeared at the door to her room, drawn by the commotion and screams.

“Tav, oh gods. What has he done to you?” His voice shook with concern as he knelt beside her.

“Tav!” He called as she slipped from consciousness in a voice that wasn’t quite his. “Tav!” The voice distorted further as Tav was pulled from her dream state.

“Tav, wake up!” Finally, Tav recognised the voice to be Riley’s.

The first thing Tav noticed before she opened her eyes was that the soft bed of her dreams couldn’t have been further from reality. Every one of her muscles was sore and cold from laying on stone.

“Where are we? What’s happened?” Tav’s voice croaked to life as she opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. She was relieved to see Riley knelt beside her, but less so to see Warren and Sera standing in opposite corners of the small room.

“We don’t know yet. They covered our heads and took us somewhere. You were the last one to be thrown in here. They think one of us is a Selûnite.”

Riley’s concern faded into the background of Tav’s comprehension as her mind stuck on a single piece of information – she had been the last one to arrive.

“Where’s Shadowheart?” She blurted, not noticing if Riley was still talking, and she pushed herself up to scan the room fast enough to give herself whiplash. The Dark Justiciar was nowhere to be seen.

“Of course that’s her main concern.” Warren scoffed from his corner of the room, squinting his eyes at Tav and Riley in disgust. “We’ve been rounded up like cattle about to be slaughtered because one of you twats is a Selûnite, and she’s so deep in the teacher’s pussy that she can’t see the bitch is the one about to get us killed.”

“What the fuck did you say?” Tav rose from the floor faster than any of them could blink and shoved Warren up against the wall by the collar. She seethed, daring him to double down.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are your ears muffled by Shadowheart’s thighs?” Warren laughed menacingly. “Let me repeat myself. The shittest Dark Justiciar couldn’t detect three Selûnites in a cohort of six initiates. Because of her failure, we’re all going to die.”

Tav hated herself for admitting it, but on a level, Warren was right. Shadowheart had spent almost her entire life being indoctrinated into Sharran ideology, but the cold, dark exterior she presented to the world appeared to be nothing more than a mask – a mask that didn’t quite fit right. Tav had found herself honoured to have been allowed behind the mask, even if by accident and for the briefest of moments. She had felt Shadowheart’s kiss turn from lustful to wistful – so caught up in the moment between them that she seemed to forget herself entirely, treating the encounter more like two lovers entwining than the purely physical encounter Shadowheart probably intended it to be.

But regardless of Shadowheart’s emotions, she was not weak. Yet, Warren smirked as he doubled down on the insinuation that she was.

Tav hated him for it.

Warren was evil for evil’s sake. Shadowheart had evil forced down her throat and had survived.

She’d love to see Warren do the same.

Tav tightened her grip on Warren’s collar, digging her knuckles into his throat and lifting him from the floor, sliding his body up the wall.

“That’s right, defend the whore’s honour.” His hands grabbed at her wrists as he choked out a strained breath. Sera and Riley remained silent from behind her. “So loyal. What did she promise you to make you her lapdog? Power? Titles? Sex? That would befit her.”

Tav levered her body to dig her knee into Warren’s stomach at the insult. The force of the blow caused a stifled cry to escape Warren’s throat and the sound lit a fire in Tav’s chest. She let his feet sink back to the floor, holding his weight to allow her the use of her hands to punch him in the jaw. Warren let out another cry as he sunk to the floor where he was met with the force of Tav’s boot meeting out one final blow.

“Don’t you ever talk about her like that again.” Tav bit, almost too calmly for the way she had just beaten him into place. She left him crumpled on the floor as she retreated across the small room to lean against the wall and catch her breath.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Warren began to laugh.

“Oh Gods. You sad fucker. It’s love, isn’t it?” He chuckled, raising his bruised face to look her dead in the eye. “You love her.”

“Fuck off, Warren.” Riley huffed in an effort to defend their friend.

“No, no. This is great.” Warren’s laugh turned smug and Tav struggled to restrain herself from punching him again. “It tells us exactly who the imposter is. A real Sharran would never fall for someone so pathetic.”

“Funny you say that, considering half the cloister thinks it’s you.” Tav mused, flashing a side glare in his direction. Although she wasn’t the Selûnite in question, she was still a Selûnite and she needed to keep the heat away from her.

“Because of that stunt I pulled to check on you? Please. Without that, no one would have known about your little tryst with Shadowheart.”

“You do understand that was a cover story? One that you split wide open and caused us to be tailed by Selûnites, which you were conveniently absent for.”

“And you both were so willing to play your parts. The way Shadowheart looked at that Tiefling like she was going to kill her wasn’t a ruse. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she finds out you’re a Selûnite.”

“And I can’t wait to kill you when you’re revealed to be the imposter Tav smirked vindictively, although she wasn’t sure whether she’d be able to follow through with her promise. She already had the blood of two Selûnites on her hands and detested the thought of adding to her kill count. Either way, if Warren was found to be the Selûnite, he’d be executed in a much slower and more excruciating manner than Tav could manage. Would it be worse to subject Warren to such a horrible death, knowing she’d make it less painful?

“You’ll be waiting a long time.” Warren laughed with a hint of genuine amusement. It was becoming apparent that as much as Warren hated Tav (and, well, everyone really) he loved the rivalry.

“We’ll see.” The low chuckle Tav returned didn’t reflect Warren’s amusement.

The room was bathed in silence once more as the four remaining initiates stared each other down. No one had a clue what awaited them beyond the walls of their cell, but the atmosphere grew tense when a low chanting began to echo through the corridors.

“We’re… We’re not about to be sacrificed, are we?” Riley mumbled through a shaky voice.

“I’m happy to be sacrificed if it means glory for Lady Shar.” Sera, usually rare to speak up, stated contently.

“I came here to help others feel the Nightsinger’s darkness.” Warren interjected, “But that doesn’t involve dying. If I have to be the last Sharran alive in this cloister, so be it.”

“I think you’re overestimating your fighting skills, Warren.” Riley stifled a chuckle, “Even if we worked together, the four of us couldn’t get out of here alive if everyone was after us.”

“Maybe that chanting isn’t for us. Maybe they’re sacrificing the Dark Justiciar.” Warren ignored Riley entirely, but the words stuck Tav like a knife to the chest. Shadowheart had been wrenched from her chambers, just as she had been. She was likely in as much danger as they were and Tav had no idea where she was, if she was safe… if she was alive. “Maybe they’ll promote me to her position. It’s not like she’s got big boots to fill.”

The insult caused something to snap in Tav’s mind.

Before she knew what she was doing, her fist connected with his jaw, sending blood and a few teeth flying into the air as Warren’s body dropped to the floor.

“I warned you.” Tav growled as she pressed her body weight onto his limbs to prevent him from moving.

“Pathet-“

Tav’s fist cut off Warren's words before he had a chance to finish one.

“Speak once more and I’ll cut out your tongue.”

For the first time she had known him, Warren kept his mouth shut.

“That’s enough, initiate.” A voice called from behind them – a sentry. “It’s time to go.”

The chanting grew louder as the four initiates followed the sentry down corridors none of them recognised. Reaching a metal door not too dissimilar from a portcullis, the sentry came to a stop, passed them each a rusty-edged sword and flicked a lever to open the way before them.

Sera entered first, more than willing to submit herself to whatever plan Lady Shar had for her – the only certain Sharran between them all. Riley and Tav followed behind, giving each other tentative glances as they took in their new surroundings. Warren was the last to cross the threshold, still moping and bleeding after Tav had silenced him for what she hoped would be the final time.

The tense atmosphere that had descended upon them once the chanting started only intensified as they passed through the door.

Within the cloister, a huge domed cavern had been carved out from the rock. Rows of benches, filled to capacity with cloaked, chanting figures were pushed up against the edges and in the middle, a large, dusty pit was fenced off with a sturdy, fence that allowed for a perfect view to those observing.

The group was ushered forward into the middle of the pit. It was only when the Mother Superior appeared on a ledge above the room that they realised they were standing in an arena.

The arena fell to silence when the Mother Superior raised a hand.

“Welcome all to the Cloister of the Sombre Embrace.” The room revered her as she spoke, “It is a blessed time of year. The darkness of Lady Shar’s night claims more of the day and the world grows colder. It is but a sweet taste of the Perfect, Endless Darkness that awaits us in Her Embrace.” A cheer of agreement rose from the crowd and sent a chill down Tav’s spine, from what she could tell Warren and Riley shared the feeling.

“I bring you here today to help us in cleansing our ranks. For I bring you dark tidings – our ranks have been infiltrated by filthy Selûnites.” The crowd erupted into a chorus of shouting. Some of disbelief, others enraged, but every single one of them was filled with a bloodlust that echoed around the cavern.

All of which was aimed directly at the four of them – still, Tav’s eyes only searched the crowd for a glimpse of Shadowheart’s face.

“One of the initiates in the ring before you is not who they claim they are.” The Mother Superior continued, “And as such, all of them shall be subjected to the tests of the Arena, until either all are killed, or the Selûnite reveals themselves.”

The cheer of the crowd was drowned out by Tav’s mind. It was all too much to take in. The Mother Superior was willing to kill all of the initiates if the Selûnite wasn’t revealed. She would be killed unless the Selûnite revealed themselves.

But then who would rescue Shadowheart?

“With the two Selûnites we cleared from the ranks a few tendays ago and now the addition of this new imposter, you must all be wondering how another managed to infiltrate our ranks. I had the same question. Given that all three were admitted by Shadowheart, the responsibility falls to her to cull the ranks.”

On the opposite of the arena from where they had entered, a heavy wooden door swung open on cue, revealing Shadowheart in full Dark Justiciar Armour – a shield in one hand and a spear in the other, glinting in the low light of the arena and aimed directly at the four initiates.

Tav’s mind reeled at the sight before her. Mere hours ago she had seen such softness in Shadowheart – such vulnerability, only to be cruelly torn away from each other the moment Shadowheart put her walls back up. She had seen a glimpse of who the Dark Justiciar really was behind the darkness of the Sharran mask forced upon her and Tav hadn’t gone a moment since without Shadowheart’s soft voice calling her name echoing through her mind.

And now the woman she was falling for could end up being the death of her.

Tav had chosen this life – chosen Selûne when Shar would arguably have been a better fit for her in the throes of grief. She had chosen to take the contract offered by Jenevelle’s parents. She’s chosen to risk her life to rescue Shadowheart from this godsforsaken place and bring her back to her parents.

Tav couldn’t bear to raise a sword against her.

“The five of you will fight ‘til the death until the Selûnite is revealed.” The Mother Superior’s voice echoed through the arena and Tav felt her heart still. “Begin!”

The world appeared to slow as the Mother Superior’s words bounced off the walls, repeating themselves over and over. Time moved so slowly that she felt the vibrations of the sound rattle her sword, rattle her bones. But the way the metal undulated with the sound still moved more slowly than Sera leaping into action.

From just looking at her slender frame, you’d never guess the human could move so quickly, but Tav’s time with her in the cloister had proven she was a fearsome warrior. Incredibly fast and equally as brutal – a weapon sharpened and honed to kill in her own right. But she had one fatal flaw – her body was too quick for her mind.

Sera was the first to rush towards Shadowheart, choosing to take out the one person who posed the largest threat – after all, Shadowheart was the only one in the arena with the target of killing everyone. Her feet kicked up dust as she ran forward, her whole body seeming to put itself being the weight of her sword as she sprang into the air – metal tip aimed directly for the gap between Shadowheart’s helmet and chest plate.

The world remained slow, but Tav’s brain kicked into gear almost as fast as Sera’s feet had begun to move across the floor. The sword felt light in her hands and her vision narrowed to the sword aimed for the neck of the woman she loved. She was too far away to parry the blow, too far away to push Sera off balance. Tav could do nothing but watch.

But Shadowheart, like Sera, was an incredibly skilled warrior. A warrior who didn’t need Tav to protect her.

In a flash of silver her shield raised to meet Sera’s blow – the sound piercing through the air and drowning out the cheering of the crowd. A spark flashed as the metal of Sera’s sword clashed against the metal of Shadowheart’s shield, sending Sera off balance and forcing her to the floor.

She scrambled to regain her balance, but her ankle buckled beneath her as it took her full weight.

Shadowheart showed no mercy.

Sera was dead before she hit the floor.

The crowd cheered.

Tav’s feet still pushed against the floor as she pushed herself forward and Shadowheart turned her body to meet the approaching threat, green eyes widening through small slits in her helmet as she saw who was rushing towards her.

But Shadowheart wasn’t Tav’s target.

Her feet slid across the floor as she forced herself to a halt, just out of the reach of Shadowheart’s bloodied spear. A mournful look passed over what little of her face could be seen, but quickly turned to shock as Warren appeared from the corner of her vision.

Warren should have expected it, really. Tav had never liked him. Tav had always proven herself loyal to Shadowheart above all. Yet, it still took him by surprise that she turned around so quickly, the tip of her sword swinging around to meet his chest. He deflected just in time, forcing Tav’s sword to miss her mark and graze his arm instead. A pained hiss pulled from his lips as blood poured from the wound, splattering on the floor and clumping with sawdust spread across the floor for easy cleaning.

Both Warren and Tav’s eyes were pulled to the growing puddle of scarlet at their feet and something unspoken passed between them. Fighting was one thing, punching another, but to Warren, this was the ultimate betrayal. His eyes now burned with a fire that would not be quelled until Tav took her last breath – Shadowheart earned the same look by extension.

Warren grit his teeth and tightened his grip on his sword. But before he could make a move to threaten Tav or Shadowheart, the tip of a sword pushed through his stomach. Tav froze in place, watching as Warren’s jaw tightened, the pain seeming not to bother him.

Riley stood behind him, fierce eyes trained on the person who threatened their friend.

Warren gripped the tip of the sword that poked through his stomach, pulling it forward with enough force to Riley with it. He swung his elbow back, connecting with their jaw in a sickening crack. Riley released their grip on the sword, stumbling to regain their footing as Warrant turned to face them.

Tav prepared herself, ready to pounce to finish the job and protect their friend, but a flash of black and silver in her periphery caught her attention.

Shadowheart now aimed her spear at Tav. Regret mixed with a steely resolve colouring her eyes.

“Shadowheart,” Tav whispered, barely audible against the cheers of the crown and the scuffling of Riley and Warren fighting to the death. “Why?”

“Lady Shar demands her ranks be cleansed, Tav. Until the Selûnite is revealed, my only mission is to kill you all.”

Tav’s heart sank. She understood. The first thing she had known about Shadowheart upon meeting was that she was a Sharran – why would she be surprised when that was turned against her?

Tav smiled sadly and looked longingly into green eyes. At least if she were to die, they would be the last thing she saw.

“I understand.” She sighed, throwing her sword to the floor in resignation.

Through the slits of Shadowheart’s helmet, Tav watched as tears welled.

Tav wanted to tell her how she felt. She wanted to tell Shadowheart everything, but that would give her reason to pause – reason to spare Tav and threaten her own life.

Instead, Tav fell to her knees, bowing her head to accept her fate.

“TAV, NO!” Riley shouted from behind her. In a fit of panic, or rage – maybe both, Riley landed an unexpected punch on Warren’s jaw, knocking him out cold. “I’m the Selûnite! It’s me!”

Riley…

The room fell silent.

Tav’s eyes moved in a panic towards her friend. She supposed it made sense – Riley had been nothing but kind and supportive to Tav since they first met. How she ever could have suspected Warren to be the Selûnite over her seemed silly in retrospect, but Gods did Tav wish it was him. If someone was going to die in this Sharran pit, Warren deserved it the most.

Riley didn’t deserve to die… but they had just signed their own death warrant. If Tav didn’t intervene, they’d be strung up and tortured in ways her sheltered, Selûnite brain could only imagine.  

“Riley, no.” Tav whispered, tears already flowing down her face.

“I’m sorry.” They directed at Tav, their voice breaking with emotion.

Shadowheart relaxed her stance beside her – Tav’s life would be spared, but it would cost her friend everything.

The last thing she could do was provide them some semblance of mercy.

Tav had thought sneaking out of the castle and leaving the body of her brother was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Tears stung her eyes and the salt left a tang in her mouth as she rose to her feet, reaching for her sword with resigned movements.

“You were my friend!” She shouted, making her voice with a furious tone to hide her heartbreak and maintain her Sharran ruse. The tension in the room lay so thick it felt like fog, blocking out everyone and everything but the two half-elves stood across from each other. Her voice almost broke as her volume neared that of a scream. “How could you betray me like this, Selûnite?” A sob racked her body – the emotion of everything coming crashing down. If Riley had told her sooner… if Tav had just realised who was staring her in the face each day, maybe this could have been avoided. If she’d have noticed the Selûnites chasing them rather than getting wrapped up in Shadowheart, maybe her friend would have lived to see morning.

Riley studied Tav’s face, finding nothing but fake anger used to mask the true intentions of her words. Suddenly their face fell into a look of contentment, truly noticing the silver of Tav’s eyes for the first time.

“I did what I had to, Sharran.” Riley bit, but a smile played at the edge of their mouth.

Tav knew what she had to do – a final act of friendship for the person who had saved her life. The sword felt heavy in her hands as she raised it.

“You’ll die for this.” Tav’s voice would have appeared resentful to anyone else, but Riley only saw regret.

“Tav, no!” Shadowheart called from behind her, knowing she’d be punished for taking justice into her own hands, but Tav knew better than to let anyone get in her way. If she didn’t take Riley’s life, someone else would.

Tav thrust her sword directly into Riley’s heart, letting tears freefall as her friend gasped through their final breaths. Now just inches apart, Tav placed a hand on Riley’s back to guide them softly to the floor.

“Thank you.” They whispered as the light faded from their eyes, their hands growing limp and falling softly to the floor. Tav clutched the hilt of the sword buried in their friend and let the sobs rack through her body.

Behind her, Shadowheart holstered her spear and moved forward as gently as she could to arrest the Sharran who had shown mercy to the Selûnite.