Chapter Text
Valentina paced the short length of her living room floor, restlessness not settling. She’s been like this since her conversation with Gortash. Day and night. She paused for a moment next to her newly stocked bookshelf. Val let her fingers gently run along the clothed spines, before turning away. She got them recently with heavy discounts from some local sellers in hope of finding some distraction from the stuff going on inside her head. It didn’t work. She didn’t have much interest in reading. She paused again. She didn’t have interest in reading but what did she have interest in? She couldn’t remember her past. How did she used to spend her time so she didn’t feel like she was ready to be bounding off the walls, going mad?
Maybe killing used to be her one and only hobby. It felt fitting, knowing what she did with the few fragments she gathered of the past her. And yet… after being tadpoled, she was a different person. The urges were there present, but she never found any pleasure in them. Was it possible that her personality changed that much overnight or was she always this person and was just pretending she thrived on the bloodlust? Or maybe part of her just did it as a job while- she shook it off. No point wondering now. She revisited similar topics so often and never found herself closer to the answer. She was a different person. Maybe. She should just make a fresh path forward with what she had. Wasn’t that what she wanted when she was travelling with her companions to Baldur's gate? Now that she made a start and had the freedom she craved, she didn’t know what to do with it.
Tick tock. Tick tock. The sound on repeat in her mind. It didn’t help with the drive to move forward. If anything, she felt even more paralysed.
Val turned on her heel and went into her bathroom. Leaned over the sink as she splashed cold water over her face. Not as cold as she hoped, to provide the little shock she needed to ground her in the present moment. How she longed for Gale this moment. She remembered how couple times, when she felt lost inside herself, he’d thrown a small water ball at her face. First time it happened was when she was losing herself to her urges. Next time, just when she was stuck in a loop inside her head, and she guessed her companions feared what she’d do next. She cursed at him, the almost freezing temperature painful as it smashed against her face feeling like shards of ice. But it helped. It brought her back when she felt stuck and cleared her mind. She lifted her gaze and then glanced at the mirror, meeting her eyes in her reflection. They were not red. Were they meant to be? She pushed off the sink, taking few steps back.
She felt like she was losing her mind. An urge to claw at her face rose. Her nails itching to dig into something. Tear and shred. Bleed. Make something bleed. She’d be happy with either. She lifted her hands, wrapping her fingers around strands of hair. What would it be like to pull? Would the pain be freeing?
Her breath coming out in pants. She clenched her jaw so hard she feared she might crack her teeth. She needed to breathe. She was fine. She would be fine. It was all done. With some resistance, Valentina let her hands fall at her sides. What was she even doing? A laugh made its way up her throat, fighting for a way out. She'd probably sound like a mad man if she let it escape. Maybe that was what she was. Maybe there was no past or present her. Maybe she has always been just crazy. All the problems and all the urges. Her screwed mind not able to tell reality from fiction. So broken it revelled in blood and suffering. The only thing that felt real. The warmth of the deep red liquid flowing from her blade to her fingertips. Coppery scent in the air as the light vanished from her victim's eyes. Their death was always real even if she sometimes had no idea how it even came to be. But then didn’t she always feel sane in those moments, at the very least to herself, until it was done? Sometimes with the strongest urges, it was like she was still her and then it was done and it suddenly felt like she was out of some kind of trance. With the lesser once, she fully knew when they were starting to overtake and despite knowing and fighting it, her body didn’t always comply. She wasn’t sure which ones she was most afraid of. The ones where she in some way disappeared without realising or the ones where she was present but hopeless to do anything. She must have been insane, lying to herself and pretending she was fine the whole time. Wasn’t all that a proof of how far she was gone? She just wanted to know who she was. Which one was real.
It was almost funny. Physically, she was strong. She believed she could hold her own in a fight against anyone. She could probably easily outrun most. She had confidence in her skills and abilities despite wrong reasons for having them. But what was all that strength if she constantly had to live in fear? It was over and she finally found relief only for Gortash to drop that bomb on her.
The only people who could potentially shed some light on the situation with her past were Gortash, Ketheric and Orin. Two out of three were dead. The last one, instead of helping, seemed to cause her some kind of mental breakdown bringing up something she thought was already buried.
She glanced back at her reflection. Her eyes were unnaturally vivid green. Like fresh grass. She thought perhaps they were her father’s creation because she couldn’t see how she’d get them naturally, they almost glowed. Her hair seemed too dark right now with how ashen her skin turned. Colour under her eyes like a deep purple bruising. Lack of sleep or damage she’s done by constantly rubbing at her tired eyes.
She needed to do so something. Being scared to fall asleep was as sure to drive her mad as being asleep. Maybe she was so tired now she wouldn’t even dream. Wouldn’t wake up, having a nightmare that felt so real, she’d be studying her hands in the dark to ensure they were dry. Glance around to room just to be sure there was no body nearby.
It was probably time to go and do some research for herself. She never wanted to return to Bhaal’s temple but she was out of options. Even if Gortash was right, if she at least knew what to expect perhaps she could change the future. Do something to have a different outcome than she feared. Being holed up, afraid of the worst just wasn’t like her. It wouldn’t do her any good. Without the daily ritual of wasting few hours a day by going to the fortress, Val had no idea what to do with her day anyway. She no longer needed to waste hours debating with herself why going to the fortress was a bad idea. Suddenly she had too much time on her hands with nothing to fill it with and a mind that wanted to work overtime. She used to be brave. She used to even be stupidly fearless. Her life on a line more times than she could count and yet she used to face the challenges head on. She needed to bring back that part of herself. The person that faced her father, spitting at his offer.
She turned towards the wardrobe. Swung the squeaky door open and was greeted by only few pieces hanging up. Small pile of clothes folded on the shelf. Then there was the one piece of light armour she kept. She wouldn’t use it yet. It would bring too much attention to her person and questions. Instead, she reached for her long invisibility cloak. It would be invaluable if she needed to make a sudden quick exit.
The colour of the sky told her it was still too early to make her way into the sewers. If Gortash was right, there could be a lot of watchful eyes around tracking her movements and she was alone now. It would be best to wait for nightfall, when she could easier blend with the shadows. Instead, to find something to occupy herself with, she went to grab a drink. Or more like, find someone to talk to. She decided to stop by the blushing mermaid. Someone she knew was always bound to be there and if not, there would be in few hours. As far as drinking places went, it was a little shady and the bartender turned blind eye to a lot of things, but it was what it was.
Val grabbed her pale ale from the bar and dropped some coins onto the surface. The man just grunted and went back to his chores. She climbed up the stairs and found a sit towards back of the room in a corner. Away from prying eyes or the more annoying customers who’d want to come chat to her. Anyone who she wanted to talk to, would know her sitting preference. Her usual table empty. She glanced around the room. No-one she knew today although she recognised few faces. She pulled back the curtains from the window to take in the scenery outside. If someone was out there watching, she’d spot them. She always had potion to see invisibility on her hand as well, just in case. So far, nothing caught her eye. She briefly wondered if paranoia was another symptom of losing one’s touch with reality or if she was justified in this case.
She let her tense muscles relax a little as she sipped on the cold liquid. Usually there would be more than enough choices for company but tonight, when she needed it most, she was out of luck. When she was done with her first pint, she headed to the bar for another one. Slowly making her way around the place, studying every corner. Everything would indicate nobody was watching her. The last hints of daylight begun fading outside and she knew her time was almost up.
She only took couple of small sips of her second ale, to not arouse any suspicion. She didn’t drink more because she didn’t want to risk her senses being dulled by alcohol if she was going to be stopping by Bhaal’s temple. She needed her mind and senses to stay sharp. When she saw the first stars up in the sky, she took it as her cue.
Returning home could often be described as nostalgic. Coming back to the place that held so much of her. Whether good or bad, it was a piece of her and held memories in the walls and in blood decorating the place. It could be then seen as somewhat of a good thing to revisit. Maybe now that she had some time away and no urgency, she could jolt some lost memories. She held those hopes together with the desperation she felt at finding answers to her latest troubles. She held those close at the very least until a surprise came in the form of lock on the door being changed. It shouldn’t surprise her. She knew they wouldn’t be that easy going about things, to just leave it as it was but she still let herself hope that maybe just once things could be that easy. Walk back into Bhaal’s temple and that’d be that. Then she’d only have to worry about avoiding being seen.
After all of this, she reached a dead end. She wiped her sweaty palms on her cloak. She’d have to go back tonight, empty handed once again. The hours of stressed she endured, wasted.
She wished every now and then that she kept all the pieces she found on their travels to Baldur’s gate. The very limited and rare pieces about her previous life. As broken as that girl was, somehow present Valentina didn’t feel whole now either. She achieved everything she set out to do and she should be proud. She was proud. It was just that sometimes that pride was overshadowed by the overwhelming loss she couldn’t place. Somewhere there, in the parts she couldn’t remember could be a clue. Something to either help herself or at the very least better know and understand her father. See if what Gortash said could be true and if so, what way her father might wish to play this. There was nothing to help her with that and the place with some answers was out of reach for now.
But she did keep something. She reached into her cloak and pulled out the the two pieces of paper about Gortash. Her admission to her father. At first, she kept it because it felt like something definite for her to work towards. A new direction. An admiration she held for that man? She needed to speak to him in person and figure out what that was about. Later… she just kept it. Forgetting about it. Now as she stared at it, she was confused. About the endless contradiction about herself and her past. Gortash said she told him he kept her sane. Was that a lie she told him or a truth? It felt like something that would have been a truth and yet this paper here contradicted that. With her, still wanting to still sacrifice him after their plans came to fruition. Unless she was lying to her father and Gortash was telling the truth because she was honest with him? The person she used to be seemed to all together greatly contradict the person she woke up after the tadpole. And yet if she was feeling those things about the man in the present, then there had to be some truths of her somewhere in the past too. Who was she lying to? Her father? Gortash? Or herself? Maybe all of the above. Unlike however with the Netherbrain and steps that could be traced back, nobody other than her would have had access to the deepest corners of her mind. Maybe she even did share couple of bits with Gortash and he held other memories but in the end, she’d still be left with empty pieces about who she used to be and what she was really doing back then.
She never felt as alone as she felt in that very moment. No father. No Withers. No family or friends. No Gortash. Everybody had a life to return to, except for her. Karlach was in Avernus. Fighting for what she believed in. Wyll was part time in Avernus to keep her company and part time assisting his father. Shadowheart perhaps was a little like her and so was Astarion but even they had other people they knew and their memories. Astarion also had the spawns to keep him company. Shadowheart was happy travelling and exploring. It felt like they didn’t feel as lost and empty as she felt. Then there was Jaheira who in her own way was repairing bonds with her family and Halsin found his new calling. Even Minsc was happy and had boo for company. It was just Val, still chasing after the past and finding no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake off some chains. It felt like everything was linked in some way and if she just could remember missing pieces, perhaps she’d have easier time to find some answers. Or it was just a lie she was feeding herself, because she thought having memories might somehow save her.
If she at the very least could figure out how trustworthy Gortash was now, she could perhaps find this easier. Agree to his plan in return for some answers. She didn’t want to do that. She was clearly at disadvantage with him holding all the cards. Whether he was friend of foe in the present, only time would tell. She needed to be ready. She needed to keep good distance to not cloud her judgment and be able to make the call quickly about what to do, if worse came to worse. Yet the only thing she had on the empty map, was a spot with the name Gortash. Where both past, present and maybe even future, connected.