Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Karlach sat at the fire, smiling as she watched her companions busy themselves around the camp.

Astarion stood by his tent, totally absorbed in the book Shadowheart had found in the apothecary. Lae’zel was similarly busy, not with chores, but with slashing through the air with the flaming sword she had snatched from a devil off the Nautaloid. How she had found the time to rob a devil, Karlach didn’t know: she had had enough trouble simply escaping.

Meanwhile, Shadowheart was making her rounds, healing everyone as best she could with her depleted magic stores from the long day. Karlach laughed as Astarion almost hit her in the face with one of his trademark gestures when she stopped to ask him if he was hurt.

She shared a smile with Wyll who was keeping watch at her side, then turned to Gale.

“I’m reorganizing my pack and I found some sausage, do you want it for whatever that is you’re cooking up?” she asked.

Gale hummed at the question. “Thank you, Karlach, but tonight I am making a stew. It will be perfect for warming everyone up on this cold evening! Tonight, there seems to be a particular chill in the air. But perhaps for tomorrow…I have this seasoning I picked up from the Grove that will compliment the heartiness of the meat perfectly – and a wine that is just the right tart, spicy flavor to pair with it. You know, sausage really does taste best when you have that pop of freshness to go with it. Perhaps I can even try–.”

“My god,” Astarion cut in. He was watching their conversation play out now, rather than pouring his focus into that book. “Even your dinner plans require a dissertation. My darling wizard, I’m sure Karlach will much prefer eating the food to hearing you gush about it.”

“Oh…” Gale said, the crestfallen look on his face clear even to Karlach, who had been a part of their little group for the shortest time. “I apologize, Karlach, I– I will return to–,” he cut himself off with a polite cough and returned to the stew without finishing his sentence.

Karlach frowned at him. Clearly, Astarion had hit a nerve with his complaint, though Karlach was about 75% sure he was only taking the piss. The vampire seemed to enjoy complaining for its own sake rather than out of true irritation, but Gale, usually among the more playful of the party, had failed to pick up on it.

“It’s alright, Gale. I really don’t mind. I’m gonna go see if Astarion wants this jar of blood I found earlier.” Gale looked up and opened his mouth as if to respond, then shut it and looked away.

Karlach shot Gale one last concerned glance and stood, stretching her stiff joints as she did so. She stomped over to Astarion who had returned to his reading, or was at least pretending to.
“Hey soldier,” Karlach began, not sure what exactly she wanted to say.

“Darling.” Astarion refused to look up from his book, despite the fact that his eyes betrayed the fact that he wasn’t actually reading it.

“I, uh, came to see if you wanted this,” she began, just in case Gale was still listening.

“I don’t really enjoy stagnant blood, but thank you, darling… Is that all?” he asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Well…” she looked over her shoulder at Gale who was watching them so intently that she thought he might be at risk of burning the stew.

“Yes,” she sighed. “That’s all.”

***

The next night Karlach settled by the fire again, as she was chatting with Wyll. She sighed as she allowed the tension from the day to bleed out as she took in the warmth of the fire. She smiled up at Gale who was busy cooking the sausage she had offered him the night before. He was adding various spices and vegetables that were causing an indescribably wonderful smell to waft around the camp.

“I am so ready to try some of that!” she exclaimed, followed by various sounds of agreement from their companions, who were once again spread around the camp decompressing and preparing for bed. She waited for Gale’s usual description of the meal: how the different components would compliment each other, how the crispiness of the sausage skin would be just right for it to burst in their mouths, what wine he would pair with it.

But it never came.

He shot a strained smile at her in response to the compliment, refusing to meet her eyes, before turning back to the pan. She frowned, but let it go. Maybe the day’s travel had simply taken a greater toll on him than she thought and he didn’t feel like talking. Though he was usually happy to carry a conversation, she didn’t want to demand it of him. Instead, she leaned back and turned to Wyll.

“So how about that owl-bear?” she grinned.

A few minutes later, Gale announced that dinner was ready and everyone gathered around eagerly. Karlach’s mouth was watering as she looked down at the plate. It truly was a blessing to have a skilled cook on the road with them.

As everyone began to eat, there was a general chorus of enjoyment.

“Wow Gale, this is to die for! I can see why you caught a goddess’s attention if you were cooking like this for her!” Shadowheart commented. As a cleric, that was likely the highest compliment she could pay him, but Karlach watched as Gale went pale at her observation.

“Yes, I did many things for Mystra,” he responded, but his eyes betrayed that he was not really seeing the party, but some scene from his past. “I think that’s the only reason she stayed with me as long as she did.”

The party went silent. Several long moments passed, no one knowing what to say to break the awkward atmosphere that had descended on them.

“I simply must be going to bed, lovelies. Work as a magistrate is not nearly as physically demanding as killing goblins, and I am practically trancing where I sit!,” Astarion finally said. The rest of the companions took that as their cue to escape to their tents as well, murmuring various excuses as they left.

“Hey, soldier…” Karlach tried, when she and Gale were the only ones left staring into the flames.

“I need to wash up, Karlach. Good night,” he said, smiling that strained smile again.

“Good night.”

***

As the weeks went by, they were accumulating more and more problems, and still were no closer to fixing their original tadpole-related one.

Everyone already knew about Karlach and Wyll’s infernal problems, following Mizora’s cute little show the day that Karlach joined their team. But apparently they weren’t the only ones hiding secrets.

Astarion was next, revealing himself to be a vampire when he tried to bite Wyll. That had put a strain on the camp, but Astarion’s lockpicking and trap-disarming was simply too valuable to be left behind. And anyway, he had grown on their little party, like mold, as Shadowheart had observed. The consensus was that as long as he kept those fangs away from their necks, he was still welcome.

Karlach took note as some, but not all, of the tension that was ever-present in Astarion’s lithe form dissipated at the reassurance as he replied with a smooth, “Of course not! This was simply a momentary lapse in judgement, I assure you, darlings!”

Then Shadowheart admitted to being a follower of Shar, and not only that, but that she had amnesia, too! This was taken more amicably. Shadowheart was their healer after all; ends justify the means, even if the means are a goddess of pain.

Then it was Gale’s turn. Gale was cleaning some pots and pans after their usual dinner, which had been a more quiet affair as of late. Karlach was beginning to wonder if the times Gale had filled the camp with conversation were the exception rather than the rule. He usually seemed too busy helping around camp to have time for much else, and he was usually quiet over dinner. She had joined this group last after all, besides Halsin, and had the least experience with each person’s quirks.

Without warning, as he was carrying another load of washing to the stream, Gale collapsed in a heap onto the ground.

“Soldier!” Karlach exclaimed, running over to him, quickly followed by Wyll and Shadowheart. “Gale,” she tried, shaking him. “Gale, what’s wrong?”

Karlach turned to look at Shadowheart as she knelt beside her. “Was he hurt during that battle earlier or something?”

“He didn’t tell me if he was,” Shadowheart replied, furrowing her eyebrows. “He is in pain though, and he’s burning up…Maybe–”

Suddenly, Gale shot up, knocking his head with Karlach’s in his haste.

“Woah, soldier!”

“I apologize Karlach, I didn’t–” he was cut off by his own groan of pain as he clutched his chest.

“What’s wrong, Gale?” Shadowheart asked urgently. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

“I apologize. I’m afraid I have not been completely honest with you…”

And that was how they found out about the bomb, or the “Netherese Orb” to use Gale’s language.

“If you ask me to leave, I will. I can go to the Underdark, and…I don’t know. But I will not force–”

“Gale, no one is asking you to leave,” Wyll cut in.

“His presence does waste precious magical items,” Lae’zel pointed out. She, along with Astarion and Halsin, had wandered over as Gale told his story. “But having another ghaik running free in Faerun is far worse. No, you will stay with us.”

“And who put you in charge?” asked Shadowheart, before glancing over at Gale. “Not that I disagree. Your magic is a powerful resource. We’d be fools to dismiss you.”

“You are something of an expert in magical maladies I should think, dear. It wouldn’t do to have us wandering around with all these magical dangers about without you. Though I will not be parting with any of my magical items.”

“Indeed, this is not natural, but we do have a duty to put it right, rather than unleashing it upon nature, friends.”

“And,” Karlach added, noticing that while this group of misfits had many skills, being sensitive to the feelings of others was not among them, with Wyll being the only possible exception. “And we don’t want you to blow up, soldier. I found an amulet that doesn’t seem good for much unless you got that awful brand Gut was trying to foist on Wyll. You can use that to, uh, you know.”

“Thank you, Karlach,” Gale responded, the relief palpable in his voice. “I will not let this gift be a waste. You all won’t regret this!”

With that, the camp dispersed for bed.

***

Several more days passed without any serious incidents. A couple goblins here, an ogre there. All dispatched by the swing of a greatsword or a quick fireball.

But Karlach was worried. Yes, she was worried about the tadpoles swimming in their heads, and yes, she was worried about Zariel finding her and dragging her back to Avernus, and yes, now that her companions had grown comfortable enough with each other to trade the more pressing concerns each one of them held – Astarion’s sanguine hunger, Mizora’s hold on Wyll, Shadowheart’s amnesia – she was worried for them, too. But mostly, she was worried about Gale.

Every night since that fateful evening, he still cooked dinner as usual once camp was set up. But he would also ask each of his companions if they had any laundry that needed doing, any spells that would make them more comfortable, any requests for items to look out for when he went to town to trade, anything he could do to help set up their tents. And every time he was given a magical artifact to sate his orb’s hunger, he thanked each of them profusely for allowing him to travel with them despite the danger, like it was some great trial to prevent a painful death for him. And he still had not taken up his evening monologues that used to accompany the crackling fire and the sounds of cooking food. The few times he slipped and began poetically describing the trials of the day, he would abruptly cut himself off shortly after.

Karlach strolled over to the campfire, doing her best to stay casual. Gale was tapping his thighs with closed fists as he waited for the water pot above the campfire to boil.

“Hey, soldier,” she started, not sure how to address the worries in her heart – well, the furnace she had instead of a heart anyway. “You, uh, look kinda bored. Wanna chat?”

Gale’s head jerked up at the sound of her voice. He cocked his head in confusion. Then she watched understanding overtake his features as he followed her gaze to his finicking hands. He stopped his idle movement, instead .

“Sorry if that was bothering you. I’ll stop. You don’t need to bore yourself with my endless observations.” He let out a nervous chuckle and forced a smile at her. It was so artificial that Karlach’s own cheeks ached in sympathy.

“No, Gale, I–”

“Sorry, Karlach, I just remembered I need to…to organize my scrolls. Real hassle today, looking through that mess when I was about to be mauled by a gnoll. Did you know that gnolls’ biology actually– Er, sorry, that’s not important. I should go– do that. Dinner will be ready in a bit.” And before Karlach could respond to any of the conflicting messages he just sent her, he turned on his heel and walked directly away from his tent.

She frowned at the pot of water, still not at a boil in front of her. Surely her other companions had noticed Gale’s strange behavior. She looked around the camp until she made eye contact with Wyll who appeared to also be puzzling over Gale’s odd behavior. She walked over to him.

“Have you noticed what’s been going on with Gale?” she asked.

Wyll nodded. “It is concerning. A wizard should not be without his voice nor his rest. Gale has been lacking both.”

Karlach nodded back. “I just don’t know what to do. How can we fix it when we don’t know what’s wrong?”

“Perhaps we can just decline his offers of help? Then he will have no reason to overwork himself.”

“That might work, soldier! Maybe he’s just tired. Speaking of, I could do with some rest too.”

“Good night then, Karlach. Sleep well.”

***

When she woke up the next morning, Karlach had not planned to fight a hag. But when did she ever expect any of their trials these days? It was a thousand times better than working under Zariel, but also about a million times more unpredictable.

As her companions fought the various illusions around the swamp, Karlach saw movement from the corner of her eye.

“Gale!” Karlach shouted as he crumpled to the floor.

She ran over to help him to his feet. The fireball he had cast had finished off the real hag. However, it seemed the evil creature had cast some sort of retaliation spell before her death, bound to affect whoever had the gall to finish her. We should have just accepted her cease fire, Karlach thought as she knelt by the wizard who was still curled over himself.

“Gale, I need you to talk to me. Are you alright, soldier?” She tried to move his body so he would look into her eyes, but he twisted away from her.

“What happened?” Wyll asked over her shoulder.

“T’chk. Cowardly hag. The istik couldn’t accept defeat honorably.”

“I don’t know, darling. I’m rather interested in how she pulled off that little trick.”

“Does he need healing, Karlach? I don’t have much left, but I could manage a Lesser Restoration spell, if needed.”

Karlach hardly heard the inquiries of her companions. Gale was still hunched over, breathing heavily, as though he couldn’t get air into his lungs. She furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed his wrist. His pulse beat a rapid pace beneath her fingers.

“Hey, soldier,” she tried. When Gale did not look up she shook him slightly. “Gale.”

Finally, he met her gaze, his eyes still unfocused, as though he was looking through her rather than at her.

“You need to breathe, mate. I don’t fancy lugging you all the way back to camp.”

He shook his head and opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out.

“Hey, you’re freaking out. You need to–” Now, Gale grabbed her wrist. Instead of looking more calm, he seemed more panicked than before. He pointed toward his throat, his mouth open and eyes wild.

“Yeah,” Karlach continued. “You need to breathe if you’re gonna–”

Gale cut her off with another shake of his head. Mouth moving, but no sound coming out.

“What–” she began, but this time she was cut off by Astarion, who had a strange look on his face.

“I don’t think he can speak, darling.”

Chapter Text

Astarion’s statement was met with a deafening silence. The party looked to Gale in horror. In response, he simply bowed his head, his eyes unfocused in a way that told Karlach that he wasn’t really seeing them. 

Wyll spoke first. “Well, I suppose we should set up camp and tend to our injuries. We can figure out what to do from there. Shadowheart, do you think you can heal Gale?” 

“I don't think so, Wyll. Ever since the Nautiloid, I haven’t had the energy for the high level of healing magic that combating a hag’s curse would require. And anyway, I specialize more in physical wounds than hexes and the like. Sorry, Gale,” she finished, glancing toward him apologetically. 

He nodded in acknowledgement and rose to his feet, walking mechanically toward his pack.

Silence lay heavy over the group as they pitched their tent. Usually, even though he’d been less talkative as of late, Gale filled the air with some sort of chatter about the events of the day or some magical phenomenon. Today, the camp was quiet but for the sound of rustling fabric from tents and of wood rubbing against itself as Gale attempted to start up a fire for dinner. 

Karlach frowned and approached the fire. 

“Hey soldier, need some help starting the fire? You seem like you’re having more trouble than usual.” 

Gale looked up at her and shook his head in frustration, gesturing at the fire. 

“Sorry, mate, I don’t know what you mean. Here,” she said as she knelt down and summoned some heat from her engine to light the wood. She hummed as she stood up again. “Maybe we should get you something to write on.” 

Gale looked up at her hopefully before furrowing his brow and gesturing again. She watched him intently, but, try as she might, she could not glean any meaning from his signing as he brought his hands together and shook his head. 

“I’m…gonna grab you some paper.”

When she returned, she smiled at the smell of onions and roast cooking over the fire. Gale really was an excellent chef. 

“Smells fantastic as usual, Gale,” she commented as she handed him a book that she’d picked up from the Blighted Village that she had begun to read before realizing how terrible the plot was. No one would miss it. 

Gale nodded his thanks and flipped open the book to the first blank page. He smiled in a way that was almost a grimace as he wrote.

Are you sure, Karlach? I would hate to ruin any of your things. I can make due with gestures if I need to. It isn’t like I have much to say that’s truly important.

Karlach felt her heart break a little at the words, but she didn’t want to make Gale uncomfortable by forcing him to have a heart-to-heart while unable to speak. She’d fallen badly ill once, back before Zariel, and she remembered how frustrated she was with being unable to respond to conversation as quickly as she wanted.  

“Soldier, you’re doing me a favor by vandalizing that book,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. “If you’d tried reading it, you’d want it out of your sight too. And I, for one, have already been missing your commentary, so I wouldn’t call it unimportant,” she added, hoping that the casual reassurance would get through to him. 

Thank you, then, Karlach. Though, there is no need to spare my feelings. I am well aware that my silence will likely be a greatly desired respite. Mystra was always more than comfortable telling me when I was talking her to death. And that was...an unfortunately frequent occurrence. 

That awful smile was back on his face. Karlach resisted the urge to growl about Gale’s sorry goddess.

“Gale…,” she began, ready to protest. 

Gale shook his head at her, though, and she didn’t want to make him feel unheard by ignoring him. She watched as he etched out a quick sentence.

Dinner is ready, she read. 

“I’ll let the others know.” 

***

As the party sat around the fire, Gale served dinner as the rest of the group discussed their next move. Karlach felt tense, like there was some invisible force holding her muscles captive.

Once everyone had been served, Gale tapped his quill to the parchment to get their attention.

“Even a silencing spell won’t stop our wizard from talking our ears off, it seems,” said Astarion good-naturedly at the display. The others laughed in agreement as they awaited Gale’s input. Karlach frowned, praying to any god that would listen that he would take it as the underlying I’m glad you’re okay that it was, rather than as an insult.

From his expression, Karlach didn’t think her prayer had been heard, but Gale didn’t let Astarion’s words stop him from scribbling away. 

I apologize for the inconvenience of this method of communication. It is rather tedious, but at least you won’t have to put up with my incessant chatter for a while. 

However, I won’t be much help in battle until this is fixed, as magic requires a spoken component and I’m not really much of a hand-to-hand fighter. I should’ve focused more on developing my athletic abilities. My rather unimpressive physical prowess was one thing that Mystra always told me needed improvement. I should have taken more heed of her words.  

Karlach could practically hear her companions’ heartbeats in the silence that overtook the circle as they read Gale’s words.  

“Soldier…” she began, unable to finish reading the message before reassuring her friend, despite herself. “Mate, you don’t need to apologize. If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been another one of us anyway.”

“And it really is best that the world isn’t being deprived of my wonderful voice, isn’t that right darling? I should really be thanking you,” Astarion butt in as Karlach continued reading. Despite the honeyed tone, Karlach could tell that Astarion was doing his best to reassure their resident wizard in his own roundabout way.

“T’chk,” Karlach heard as she read the last line written in Gale’s neat scrawl along the bottom of the page. “We may require your insight, long-winded though it may be. Only the most foolish of commanders ignores his advisors,” she finished, turning to glare at Shadowheart, as though she was going to disagree.

“Gale, you’re still a brilliant wizard, even if you’re a bit incapacitated right now. I’m only sorry I couldn’t help more.” 

“I would say,” Wyll concluded after Shadowheart had said her piece, “that our next move should be to look for a healer or magic user who specializes in the negation of curses, since Halsin and Shadowheart have seemed to hit a wall here. We can–” He stopped speaking as Gale began frantically writing. 

No, no, you don’t need to go to all this trouble on my behalf! I hate to think of what could happen if we delay the removal of these tadpoles. And anyway, perhaps the spell will wear off on its own, or maybe we’ll run into someone who is such an expert during our travels .

“Gale, you can’t speak ,” Wyll said, as his eyes finished scanning the paper before him. “Getting your voice back is a priority; I know, being a wizard, it’s even more important to you than to most to have access to your voice! So healing you is what we’ll do next. And that’s final, by the way,” he added, glancing around to ensure there was no opposition. 

“Sound idea, friend, I know some healers in the southwest who may be able to aid us. He is not a specialist in curses…He works more with magical illnesses than anything, but he may still be able to help,” Halsin added helpfully.    

“There we have it then. It is a little bit out of the way, but it will be worth it. Then, we continue on to the creche as planned.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement at the plan as they dispersed to their beds. Karlach watched as Gale walked over to his own tent – Wyll had pitched it for him while he made dinner. He was slumped over in a distinctly not-Gale way as he turned in for the night. 

Karlach only hoped he would be able to shake off his melancholic air as they figured out how to heal him.

Chapter Text

Karlach stretched her arms up over her head as she sat up. She breathed in heavily, practically tasting the bacon that Gale was cooking outside her tent. She licked her lips as she stood and hastily got dressed. 

“Good morning, all!” she said as she tossed the tent flap out of the way and joined her party around the merry little campfire. “What’s on the docket today, Wyll?” 

“I was thinking we could head toward our contact today, see what we can find out about this curse. I figured you, Gale, and Halsin could accompany me today since Gale and Halsin will need to speak with this healer.” 

“Good thinking soldier! Breakfast and then we’re off?”

*** 

Karlach was glad Gale had cooked a hearty breakfast. It was a long, sweaty hike over rocky terrain, followed by a tramp through a muddy swamp, followed by a relatively nice walk through the woods before Halsin finally declared that he recognized the area they were in as the place where his fellow healers reside.

“It’s a druid circle dedicated purely to the healing arts! Nettie and I can do much, but the research they do here is on a different plane. I’m sure they will have a remedy for your voice, Gale,” Halsin mentioned, smiling. 

Gale sent him a wobbly smile back. Karlach was worried for their wizard, but if Halsin was correct, he should be back to normal in no time at all. 

Karlach opened her mouth to reassure Gale further, but before she was able to draw the breath to speak, an arrow whizzed by her face. 

“Stop! In the name of the Absolute!” a rough voice cried. Karlach turned in surprise to see several goblins who had previously gone unnoticed due to the way they were hiding in the trees.

“How dare you sully this sacred place with this blight!” Halsin yelled back in response, shaking his shoulders as he shifted into his bear form. There goes any opportunity for us to negotiate, Karlach thought wryly as she readied her battle-axe. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised: Halsin warned them way back at the goblin camp that he was no good at playing nice with evil creatures. 

As Halsin attacked the nearest goblin, Karlach yelled out and shook her axe above her head. Usually that intimidated her opponents enough that she was able to sneak an extra attack in. 

She lost track of her companions as she flew into a rage, slicing into enemies left and right. She cut down a goblin with two strokes of her axe as Wyll struck one that had snuck up behind her with an Eldritch Blast. She nodded her appreciation before she shoved a worg into the deadly path of Halsin's paws. She laughed manically as she turned to cut into the bugbear who looked to be the leader of the group. 

She wiped some sweat off her brow as she charged toward him. He dodged her attack with a well timed duck before striking back with his own longsword, tearing a chunk out of her arm. She roared at him before cutting left and right in quick succession, knocking him to the ground.

As Karlach raised her axe to deal the fatal blow to the bugbear, she saw Gale struggling to batter back a goblin out of the corner of her eye. 

She shook her head, focusing back on the bugbear before it could take advantage of her lapse. She couldn’t afford to give openings like that. Gale was a very capable wizard, even if she had been worried about him lately–  

That’s when it hit her. In the adrenaline of the fight, she’d been following her instincts: her fighting style didn’t allow for flashy strategy and careful thought. In the midst of the bloodshed, she’d forgotten Gale didn’t have use of his greatest, and frankly his only viable, weapon. 

She turned, ready to rescue Gale just in time to see him mouth a wordless scream as he was stabbed in the gut by the goblin. He collapsed in a heap onto the dirt. Her hands flew to her mouth in surprise. She also kept forgetting that wizards were exceptionally…delicate.

“Gale!” she yelled, realizing she would need to help him up. As she began to run toward him though, the bugbear that she’d failed to finish off swung at her, dealing a glancing blow to her back. She yelled out, more in shock than pain before swinging her axe so quickly and forcefully that the bugbear fell before he had a chance to dodge out of the way. 

Then, she turned back to Gale. They had more important things to do than deal with cultists.

***

“Thank you so much for getting rid of those goblins for us! We would have been in really hot water if not for you. Not really fighters, you see,” Halsin’s healer friend said for the upteenth time. He had not stopped effusively thanking them since they’d stowed their weapons, but the little party didn’t mind, with how worried for Gale they were.

Gale was laying down, still recovering from the nasty stab wound he’d been hit with. Wyll, Karlach, and Halsin had probably apologized to Gale for not ensuring he was safe almost as many times as their hosts had thanked them. Gale simply smiled wearily each time and shook his head, pointing to the phrase he’d written out after the first apology. 

It’s really okay! I am not usually so helpless in battle – I wouldn’t expect you to think to guard me as if I were a shrinking violet! And anyway, of everyone in the party, it’s best that I was the one stuck down since I’m not able to contribute much right now, what with my voice. 

Karlach didn’t love his response, but she figured it was better to get this whole problem fixed rather than arguing with Gale about his value to the team. 

“So…can you fix him?” Karlach asked, cutting off the diminutive healer in the middle of his next 'thank you'. “Sorry for interrupting, this has just been…weighing on our minds,” she finished, glancing at Wyll for support. 

“Oh yes! In fact, he’s already healing!” 

“Oh wow! How did you manage it that quickly?” Karlach asked, impressed. Gale had sat up, grimacing in pain as he did so, but beaming once he’d repositioned. Losing his voice had really done a number on him; Karlach could only imagine the level of relief he was feeling. 

“Well…it is only a flesh wound,” the healer began, looking at her with one eyebrow raised in confusion. 

“The curse?”

“Curse? I suppose it was an acid-coated blade, but I assure you–” 

“Conan,” Halsin cut in, “I’m afraid you are misunderstanding the reason for our visit. We were not aware of the goblins plaguing you, though I am very glad we were able to help. We actually traveled here because our wizard needs healing beyond that which you have already provided. He lost his voice to a hag’s curse; we were hoping you could help.” 

The other man, Conan, looked at Halsin with wide eyes. “A hag’s– Halsin, most people who meet a hag’s ire don’t live to tell the tale. I have very little experience in this matter. I can make an attempt to heal your friend -- Gale, was it? In fact, I insist! But I also can make no promises.”

Karlach risked a glance toward Gale. His face had gone ashy and when they accidentally made eye contact, he was unable to muster even one of those half-hearted smiles he’d been throwing around. His shoulders slumped and he looked down, his hair covering his eyes. He looked…defeated. 

“Gale, it’ll be okay. Even if this doesn’t work out, we'll make a new plan. We will not leave you behind, you understand?” Wyll, as usual, took the lead, offering comfort before Karlach had even finished processing the situation. 

“Yeah soldier! We can–” But before she could finish her own encouragement, Gale was scribbling away. He hadn’t said anything, but Karlach had noted that his face would scrunch up in frustration when he was spoken over, unable to communicate as quickly as he was used to. She tried her best to pause when he started writing, but her companions hadn’t noticed Gale’s subtle tells. 

“Gale, it is--” Halsin began. Gale held up a hand, then stopped writing. He held up the page as he pasted on his usual painful smile. 

We cannot afford to pursue all these dead ends while on mind-flayer time! I also refuse to put you all at risk like I did in the battle earlier. Karlach was badly cut because of me! I can stay at camp until we find a concrete solution. It’s no big deal, I promise. 

Wyll grimaced before opening his mouth to argue once again, but Karlach cut him off. “Why don’t we see what Conan can do before we make any decisions?”

***

The answer was...not much. Conan tried poultices, potions, spells, blessings. Nothing he did made a difference. By the end of the session, Conan was at the end of his rope, ripping his hands through his thin, gray hair in frustration.

“This usually acts as a catch-all spell! This hag you fought must have been incredibly powerful. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can help. This isn’t a matter of healing, but of finding a counter-curse.”

Gale nodded wearily. He didn't seem surprised by the verdict. His shoulders were slumped in exhaustion and the light that had been in his eyes for the first few healing attempts was long gone. Karlach had no doubt it was exhausting being bombarded by spells, each getting his hopes up before sending them crashing down again. Her heart ached for him. 

“Well, at least now that we know that, we can better search for a solution, Gale,” Wyll said, desperately trying to find a bright side. 

Gale just nodded listlessly in response. Karlach sighed. “Let’s get back, then.”

***

When they returned, Gale wasted no time before he was, once again, frantically taking care of every little thing back at camp. Karlach frowned as he approached Lae’zel, offering to shine her weapons. Karlach only knew that was what he was asking -- she obviously couldn't hear him -- because she had just refused the very same offer. 

She shook her head as Lae’zel thrust the blade into Gale’s hands indifferently. She loved all her companions, but there were times they could be spectacularly oblivious. 

Gale’s fumble during the earlier battle, if it could even be called that, had really done a number on his confidence in his value to their party. He couldn’t accompany them for their adventures each day if it was going to put himself and their party in jeopardy, and he clearly was trying to make up for that fact by doing anything he could to help their companions while at camp.  

Well, Karlach would do her best to make him see that he was important to them with or without his endless favors and spellcasting prowess. She made eye contact with Wyll as they sat by the fire, as was their custom in the evenings. Wyll nodded in understanding. She was glad at least one other person saw what she did. 

“No, no, I wouldn’t want you to tear or stain them!” She jumped as a loud voice broke the peaceful quiet that had fallen over the campsite.

Karlach suspected Astarion, who had just very loudly rejected Gale’s offer of help, was more perceptive than he pretended to be as well. His version of…damage-control wasn’t always ideal given their wizard’s fragility as of late, but she was thankful for it all the same. 

She watched as Gale nodded, frowning, before he scribbled out something else on his notepad. Astarion scanned the page.

“Good gods, man. Why don’t you just cook dinner? I think we’ll all survive the evening, even without your assistance!”

Karlach glanced at Wyll, who was grimacing at the interaction. She shrugged at him. What's done was done, she tried to say using only her face. Hopefully Gale would remember that being somewhat abrasive was simply how certain party members displayed their love, though somehow she doubted he would. Gale was already slinking back over to the campfire. He slid to the ground in front of the cooking pot, before wearily lifting up his notepad. 

Dinner is served. The despondent expression on his face didn’t match the flowery script he written the phrase in. 

“I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” Karlach exclaimed, trying to muster a smile.

She had a heavy feeling in her stomach, even as she said the words. She just hoped this whole mess would work itself out, and soon.