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sovonight · 1 year

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the comprehensive xan x radri post! unlike their tag, everything here is categorized and sorted in nice chronological order 💖

last updated: 1 / 2 / 2024

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baldur’s gate i

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The Outline

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Xan: *sigh* Go ahead. Ask me why a mage carries a sword around.

Radri: Wh—what?

Xan: You were staring, and quite obviously. The sooner I satisfy your curiosity, the sooner we can direct our attention back to the dangers that surround us, so that we may endeavor to survive the day ahead.

Radri: O-oh, that's not why I... I'm sorry. It's a moonblade, isn't it? You don't need to explain.

Xan: So you are instead surprised that I so severely contradict the tales told of our people, for I do not sing songs and revel in the joys of life? *sigh* I've heard it all before, and I—

Radri: What? No! I'm sorry—I should just take my leave!

—

(In the early morning, at the inn.)

Radri, pleadingly: Imoennn, you know I need you to bargain with the shopkeeper for me!

Imoen: Bargain with 'em yourself. 'M sleeping.

Radri: Please, Imoen, no one else can do! You're so charming and peppy and disarming—

Imoen, pulling the covers back over her head: 'N exhausted! Jus' fork over the extra gold pieces, who cares.

(Radri steps out of the room, letting the door close behind her and falling back against it with a huff.)

Radri: Ugh! Really— (She freezes, realizing she's not alone in the hallway: Xan is there, mid-stride, just passing by.)

Xan: Is something wrong?

Radri, embarrassed, straightening immediately: No! Nothing. I—I'm headed to the store before everyone else wakes. Do you... need anything?

Xan: No; I have all I need, and an excess of supplies can just as readily doom a party as a lack of them. But shall I assist you?

—

(Xan glances over at Radri, who is very rigidly looking ahead, and sighs.)

Xan: I should not have said anything yesterday. It was presumptuous of me, and it is far worse to have your gaze avoid me entirely.

(Radri gives him a startled glance, then looks back away quickly.)

Radri: No, no—I'm sorry. It was rude of me. I'm just unused to being in the company of another elf... and a stranger.

Xan: You have known the others for a long time, then?

Radri: Oh, no. Imoen, sure, but I only met Jaheira and Khalid a couple weeks ago. But because they knew my father, they don't feel quite so much like strangers. Not to mention, one only has to nod through Jaheira's conversations to survive them... and Khalid does not ask more than pleasantries.

Xan: I see. Since I ask more than pleasantries, do I trouble you?

Radri, panicking: No! Not at all. It's refreshing, if anything. And really, I—I'm grateful for your help, I mean, to travel alongside a defender of Elvendom, is...

Xan, subdued: Do not think the moonblade makes me invincible, Radri. It is often more trouble than it is worth. And you should save your praise: I have not yet accomplished anything in service to you beyond placing myself in your debt.

(Radri glances over at him again, daring for the first time since Nashkel to actually catch a proper glimpse of his face: his expression is solemn, and his dark eyes are dull. The rest of the walk is spent in silence, until at last they reach the shop. Xan holds the door open for her.)

Xan: Imoen is usually the face of your transactions, I gather?

Radri, embarrassed: You heard all that earlier?

Xan: I can serve in her place, if you wish.

Radri: Oh—yes, thank you! Here, I have a list…

—✧✧✧—

Imoen: Radri... Radri! Whatcha doing, spacing out? You've gotta stir, or the stew's gonna burn!

Radri: Oh—sorry, Imoen.

Imoen: Really, if you'd had any chores back at ol' Puffgut's place, he woulda chewed you out already. What's on your mind, anyway?

(Radri's gaze drifts away from the cooking fire and back over to Xan, who's working on his spellbook alone. Imoen follows her line of sight, and looks back at her in apprehension.)

Imoen: Oh, no. Don't tell me you've let his attitude infect ya.

Radri: No, I… (She hesitates, wondering if she should share.) I walked with him in his memories, last night, of Evereska. It was so beautiful... his eyes shone as he spoke… but when we woke from reverie, it was all gone. Sharing his memories with me had only made things worse. And worse still, I didn't know what to say.

Imoen: I don't think even the best speaker on Faerun could brighten his day, Radri. Don't let it weigh on ya.

Radri: *sigh*...

Imoen: *gasp* He's already gotten to ya! Radri, quick, ya gotta smile—it's the only way!

Radri: Imoen, hold on—stop! I'm smiling, I'm smiling—the stew!

—✧✧✧—

Compounding Fluster [crossposted on ao3]

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Poor Substitute

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Special Treatment (skip the second one in the link, it comes later)

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Firewood

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By the Fire

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(Xan exits the inn with enough haste to send the lit lantern by the door frame swinging slightly on its hook. The lantern illuminates a quiet side street, and its light conveniently slants over the alcove in which Radri sits, quiet and curled up with a book, against the wall of the building. Radri looks up at his arrival; even from here, with a view only of the back of his head, she can gather that he's searching for something he lost.)

Radri: Xan? Are you looking for something?

Xan, turning quickly, relieved: Radri!

(In an instant, she recognizes that he was, in fact, searching for her. It’s a habit of hers to slip away—Imoen had assured Jaheira and Khalid of that, in the early days. Surely Xan had been met with the same exchange, and yet here he is. In a way, she can’t help but feel flattered.)

Xan: Why are you not inside with the others?

Radri: It's... a little loud inside. Too much noise…

(Now that she says it out loud, the reason sounds silly to her ears, but he doesn’t question it.)

Xan: I see. Still, I would feel better if you were not out here alone.

Radri, gesturing to the spot beside her: There's room for you, if you'd like.

Xan: If a shadow in the night emerges to slit our throats, I will not have the awareness or the speed to protect you, I fear. But perhaps my death would grant you some time to escape…. Very well, if you will have me.

(He joins her, and at this angle, catches the name of the book she's reading.)

Xan: The Dead Three? Of all the books that you have rifled through in search of spells and gold in our travels, I did not know you had deigned to take any one title with you.

Radri: This was Firebead's reward; I couldn't bring myself to sell it.

(She returns her gaze to the book, and sighs.)

Radri: I don't know why I keep returning to it. I'm not even reading the words anymore. I know the story, I just…

(She hesitates; what lingers on her mind is something she has been unable to utter to the others, and that she has even avoided confronting in words herself. It is a fear, really, one that the others would surely attempt to talk her out of… but not Xan. Haltingly, she speaks.)

Radri: …Do you ever feel like you're standing on a precipice? …At the very edge of falling. And it's as if… the body knows what lies beyond the edge, and is pulled to meet it… but the mind holds it back.

(With her eyes gazing distantly through the book’s pages, Radri fails to catch the responding quiet, longing glance that Xan sends her way.)

Xan: ...Yes. (Then he looks away, disappointed in himself to admit,) I experience the sensation daily.

Radri: I fear it, I think, but there's no use in dread, nor anticipation. What waits for me is already here. And I… and I….

(Radri falls into silence, feeling a chill move up her neck; on the book's open pages, her hand has begun to tremble. She flips the book shut, and grips it closed tightly.)

Radri: But never mind. It's getting cold, and late, and I shouldn't keep you here any longer. Shall we go to bed?

(She stands, and offers her hand to him. Xan stares at her.)

Xan: To bed?

Radri, pink: Oh—I'm sorry. To reverie, I mean. (Her offered hand withdraws partially, subconsciously, as she reflects to herself,) Though I suppose after so many nights, you must long for quiet, too. N-never mind. I'll ask Imoen—

(She doesn’t want to be left alone tonight, and Imoen’s unconscious company is better than none. But then Xan, composed again, accepts her hand before her doubt can rescind it.)

Xan: No, let us go together. Though it can only be a temporary illusion, I find a peace of mind in our rest together.

Radri: Really? (She ducks her head, her gaze drawn to the comforting sight of their joined hands, a touch which has already begun to take the chill away.) I'm... I'm relieved that I have not yet imposed on your kindness.

Xan, distantly, to himself: "Kindness." I wonder if it is….

—✧✧✧—

[crossposted on ao3]

"Will you guide me?" Radri asks.

"Guide?" Xan echoes, then gestures around them with a shrug. "It is a standard estate. There is the entrance hall, the drawing room, the parlor—"

"I lived in Candlekeep, Xan," Radri says, "The structures of "standard" living spaces are not exactly known to me."

"You say this as though there are no tomes on floor plans and architecture—but, no, I see that they must have been too dry for you to grant them your attention," Xan says.

He sighs, and holds out his hand.

"Very well... I will give you the tour."

Her hand slips easily into his, and a familiar jolt of joy and disbelief flits through her heart, unchanging no matter how many times now she has taken his hand. Unlike in the waking world, where their clasped hands facilitate the link between their minds, here, the gesture holds no practical use. For how readily and naturally he offers, this must all be second nature to him—but somehow, she's unable to reconcile the image of his offered, open hand with the way that she has so often seen him draw his cloak tighter around himself, as though the fabric were a barrier that could close him off from the world.

As they walk, Xan speaks in his low and solemn tone, describing to her the history in these halls; in the portraits, and artifacts; in the people that walk past, the figures of memory, their faces bearing a dreamlike quality. Radri finds herself staring, turning to look at them as they pass, subconsciously slowing until Xan's hand on hers acts as a tug.

"Come," he says, "We have almost reached the garden." She notes that they are already leaving the interior after only having passed through the common areas—wherever the chambers may lie, they are above, or further within.

Scattered sunlight spills in through the windows, filtered by the leaves that rustle gently against the panes from the outside. Warm yellow and deep green tones, abstracted by the thickness of the glass, make the windows appear to glow from within. Ahead, a rectangle of sunlight marks the presence of a set of glass doors, and they pass through them to a veranda, where the greens and yellows of earlier burst into detail and bleed vibrancy into the air around them, filling their surroundings with color.

Here, her hand falls from his, and her feet take her ahead on their own. A path, lined with flowers, winds into the swaying shadows of the trees, and her steps slow in these shadows, falling easily into silence.

"Radri?" Xan calls, with some worry, to have seen her disappear—but Radri does not call back, her hand pressed to her silent smile. There is no danger here in the calm of the past; perhaps she will loop back and surprise him, or perhaps he will follow. There sounds a rustle of leaves, a dragging of fabric—yes, he will follow.

She keeps two steps ahead, and yet traces a rhythm that she remembers easily, a pattern that she had learned at Candlekeep. Its memorization had been inevitable seeing as, for years, she'd had only the same set of shadows to train in. It is no wonder, she thinks idly, that her skills had remained in plateau until she had left. Her eyes, half lidded, can make out the obstacles now: this path to silently round the hay bales... these steps to slip past the barrel... this way to reach the door, and with practice, open the door without a sound. To her surprise, her hand, outstretched in memory, finds a handle. It is not crafted in an elegant arc, like the ones inside the estate, but bent into the bold angles of a firm, humble bracket. A flash of dread passes through her, but it is too late: she pulls.

The man behind the door turns at her entry, and his eyes gleam in satisfaction and glee.

"Oh, goodie goodie!" He cries, "I've gone and found ye first! You are the ward of Gorion, no doubt?"

Her mouth works, but her voice is gone, stolen by the sensation that has numbed her and turned her legs to lead.

"Not much of a talker, eh? I apologize for this sordid business, but I must have your head," he says, and advances upon her, bearing the tell-tale glint of a blade. With a vicious grin, he drives the dagger forward to meet her, and though her body tenses, knowing how to escape, she can't move—she can't move—

Her eyes shut tight, and a hand grasps her arm, pulling her sharply back. There is a clatter, followed by a heavy, dead thud, and she is spun around by her shoulder, as another hand comes to her cheek—trembling, light—Xan.

"Radri... Radri? Please... look at me."

But when she looks, she does not meet his eye; her gaze drawn away, cast back over her shoulder at the fallen man, who lies not dead, but unconscious.

"It is only a memory," Xan reminds her, drawing her away. The door closes, and they are back in the garden—but, her heart beating fast and high in her throat, she pulls away.

Away, away, and out of reverie. The night air is cold on her skin; her pillow is damp against the back of her neck; and her hand, clasped in Xan's, is nearly slick with sweat. Tugging herself free, Radri curls onto her side, moments before Xan gasps belatedly awake beside her.

She hears him shift, turning to her... then pause, silent, no doubt forming what he wants to say.

"Candlekeep," Radri says for him, cutting his unspoken question off before he can say it. "It happened in Candlekeep."

"I had thought that the first attempt on your life happened at the Friendly Arm," Xan says. "The others...."

"I never told them," Radri says, and her voice begins to tremble as her words spill out, "I—I mean, you saw it, what a... what a poor attempt, the... the man wasn't even armored, that—that dagger was all he had... what kind of leader would—would—"

"Would have frozen?" Xan says, quietly. "You were home, where you had been safe for decades, as long as you can remember. You were not prepared, and a moment of fear is nothing to be ashamed of."

"I can't have any moments of fear."

"Oh, but you should," Xan says. "I recommend it. No one is invincible, and the few true fearless are bound to foolhardiness and doomed to an early death."

Slowly, Radri lifts her head, gazing back at him. Her eyes are still damp with tears, but no pity shows in his; his gaze only softens, bearing relief. She wipes the tears from her face with the side of her hand, until Xan silently offers a handkerchief. He is quiet for another beat, and then,

"That day," he begins, slowly, "will you tell me what happened?"

She had thought that she had long swallowed the words, but now they rise, pressing against her closed lips. There is no magic at play, here; only time, and memory, and his quiet patience.

"He missed," she says. "The dagger, it... it only cuts me above the brow... and lands in the wood beside the door. He wrenches at it... there is an unruly nail, you see, Dreppin always did swear he would fix it... and though I have my opening, all I can do is stare. I had driven my blade into the hearts of countless illusions just earlier, but—but I'm too afraid to stab him. Then, I hear the wood crack, and I panic: I knock him out with a blow to the head."

Radri laughs, weak, and empty; Xan remains silent beside her.

"You know, the funny part is, I stepped back out into the sunlight and it was like nothing had happened. Parda asked, but... I thought that was it, so... I didn't say a thing. But then—but then—you have to guess," Radri says, feeling almost lightheaded, like something in the air has sent her mind spinning. Judging by the grave look on his face, she doesn't expect Xan to humor her—but he does.

"There was a second attempt," he says. "Just when you had thought it was safe again."

"You're right," Radri says, faintly, feeling strangely empty now. "I stabbed him that time... there was blood, on my new armor... surely Karan had seen it, and yet... I still couldn't say a word."

She falls silent, clutching the handkerchief in her hand, her eyes dry now, and her cheeks sticky with tears.

"I'm sorry," Radri says.

She ducks her head, unable to see the way Xan blinks from compassion into puzzlement, blindsided by her apology.

"For what?"

She doesn't know; she can't put it into words, knowing only that shame fills her chest. Shame, for being here in front of him—for craving his attention so deeply and totally when she has done nothing with it but worry him. Danger did not used to follow her; things did not happen to her. She had always been quiet, inconsequential, like a shadow in the halls.

"F—for," Radri begins, and then her hitched breath overtakes all other words, and she can only shake her head silently as she attempts to hide herself again.

Xan sighs. She curls in tighter on herself, sure that whatever he had seen in her has lost its luster now. Perhaps, if she had not accepted his offer of shared reverie, she would have been able to bear the facade for even just one day longer.

But then, fabric shifts, and instead of standing and walking away, he leans in, holding her.

It is a tentative embrace, and to some degree, it is awkward: she has brought her knees up to her chest, hunching in upon herself, so Xan is left to drape himself over the mountain she has made. His head tilts against hers, but it is held rigid, and leaves no weight upon her; and there is the slightest tremor in his fingers, whose touch is similarly feather-light, although they curl into the folds of her blanket, still draped around her. This balance is held for one frozen moment, until a sob escapes her, and whatever restraint he had had breaks, pulling his warmth and weight to her as though a new source of gravity had manifested in her chest.

"Forgive me," Xan says, quiet and low, "My arms can provide little comfort, but I am afraid that my words would provide even less."

She wants to speak; memories crowd in her chest, memories of Candlekeep, so unchanging across the decades that they all merge into a blur. She is the obedient child, quiet as she is told to be; the daughter of a storyteller, able to pluck the morals from any tale; the reader staring down at a thousand pages, for whom the world starts and ends between the covers of a book. She is an observer, nothing more. She is not seen. She is not seen.

And yet here she sits, painfully present in the real world, in the grounding weight of Xan's embrace. A great part of her wishes dearly again to hide—but a budding fraction feels nothing but sweet relief.

When at last she can exist again, she lifts her head, and Xan releases her immediately. She raises her gaze to meet his, and Xan looks pensively back at her, until he reaches out to tuck her hair back behind her ear. He places a kiss upon her forehead, and though fleeting, weightless, and gentle, with that kiss the last of whatever insecure words she'd held on her tongue are gone.

"The next watch is mine," Xan says, unfazed, as though he had not just turned some layer of her reality over. "If you wish, you can join me until you are ready to return to reverie."

He holds out his hand to her, and she takes it, allowing that familiar spark of elation dance through her fingers and up into her heart again.

—✧✧✧—

Friends

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Then I Shall Stay [crossposted on ao3]

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Newly Vulnerable (the second one in the link)

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Art Exchange

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First Impression / Attention

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United in Misery

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Waiting [crossposted on ao3]

(extra art)

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Recognition [crossposted on ao3]

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Stealthy Care

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Fever

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[Next is two versions of the same idea—I couldn’t pick one to throw out]

Radri: I think I've perfected my system—see? (She begins unfolding pages out of her journal, which each expand to a size larger than the journal's cover itself.) Map. Local maps. Open quest list. Closed quest list. Inventory—

(A regularly-sized page flutters out from the complicated arrangement; Xan retrieves it for her, then pauses.)

Xan: What is this ominous page of untitled dates?

Radri, freezing: Oh, um, a record of every... quail I have seen. I mark down the day.

Xan, raising a brow: I did not know you were a quail enthusiast.

Radri, quickly taking the page back: Well, we still have a lot to learn about each other.

—

(A quail passes by in the underbrush.)

Xan, flatly: Ah, there is another one. Will you mark it down?

(Radri, who’s about to reach unwillingly for her journal, pauses, then huffs.)

Radri: Fine! It's a record of every day that I have seen you smile! I am sick of marring it.

Xan, stunned: What? Why would you feel the need to conceal that?

Radri, annoyed: Because you'll say that I'm silly for keeping it, that we will all turn to dust, and that the work I put into recording these things is pointless because it is futile to preserve anything—a struggle which one would think I am intimately familiar with given that I spent my entire childhood in a giant archive.

Xan, fond: Oh, Estel'amin, even in your anger, your beauty is breathtaking to behold. Come here.

(Radri looks at him, and grows even more annoyed, though she still lets him gather her into his arms. Her face is now pink.)

Radri: I am still not marking down today.

—✧✧✧—

(Radri’s head rests against Xan’s shoulder as they rest together; he brushes absent-mindedly through her hair with his fingers, watching the way the last of the day’s sunlight plays across the strands, as they did so many nights ago.)

Xan: Do you remember that first night by the fire, when I arranged your hair?

Radri, eyes closed in contentment: Yes… it's a memory I used to revisit often. It was the first time I saw you smile.

Xan: I... I did?

Radri: You had this faraway, peaceful look on your face... I was unable to return to reverie for hours afterwards. I just kept picturing your smile when I closed my eyes.

Xan: A restlessness that I can relate to all too well. But... you spoke in the past tense, earlier. Is the recollection no longer to your liking?

Radri, defenses low, drifting off: It was a beautiful smile, but once I loved you I couldn't bear it anymore.

(The brushing stops.)

Xan: What do you mean?

Radri, realizing what she confessed: I-I mean… Well, I… My glimpse of it was clearly stolen, and it was not meant for me—you were no doubt recalling a memory. (She sits up, looking away, embarrassed.) When I began to wish dearly that you would look at me like that, I didn't want to see it anymore.

Xan: Well, it is fortunate that you now have memories to replace it, then.

Radri: ...

Xan: …Estel'amin, I know for a fact that I have smiled more with you than I have in the past four decades.

Radri: ...

Xan: *sigh* My beautiful, beautiful Radri, what doubts yet linger in your mind? What reason would I have to be false with you?

Radri: None.

Xan: None.

Radri, unable to contain it anymore: But sometimes, surely, you're just smiling at the beauty of nature around us! How could I presume to have factored into any part of that joy? I merely happen to be present.

Xan, dryly: Yes. Surely, you just “happen to be present” in all of the happiest memories of my life. Radri, there is coincidence, and then there is causation. You can believe me when I say that you are the cause.

Radri: ...

(Xan tilts her face towards his, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.)

Xan: If the countless words I have spouted in our months together have not been enough to convince you, what shall I do to show you? (As he leaves his kiss, he catches sight of the welling tears in her eyes.) Oh, Estel'amin...

(Radri turns her face quickly away again, covering it with a hand.)

Radri: No—I'm not sad, just touched!

Xan: Your earlier laments are wasted on yourself; you should lend them to me, who seems only capable of making his beloved cry. Though, it gives me the opportunity to kiss away your tears. Shall I?

Radri, lowering the shield of her fingers a fraction to glance back at him disapprovingly: That sounds unpleasant and salty for you.

Xan: And yet I would readily perform the gesture. Do you glimpse now the depths of my devotion?

(As he waits for her acknowledgement, her eyes widen in surprise, and she forgets to shield herself entirely.)

Radri: Oh... you're smiling.

(In his own realization of it, the smile is gone in an instant—but the memory remains.)

—✧✧✧—

A Gift [crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

Radri: I used to dream of finding someone to share all that I am with. I still cannot believe that I've found you.

Xan, touched and blushing a little, hiding it quickly: I dare not ask if I am all that you dreamed of. —And yet, there are the words now, hanging irrevocably between us. Let me guess: you envisioned gallant knights, white horses?

Radri, laughing: Do you think I immersed myself in love stories? That would be Imoen, not me.

Radri: I… It may be silly to say, but… I couldn't bear them. They were other people's stories; there was no place there for me.

(Xan looks at her softly, understanding; embarrassed, she doesn't meet his eye.)

Radri: B-besides! Even when I dared dream, I could never have imagined you.

Xan, unsure if he should be flattered or insulted: …

Radri: I mean—! You're… so… you.

Xan, unimpressed: I am… so… "me". Surely, in another life, you could have been a wordsmith.

Radri: Agh, just give me a second!

Radri: You were… so… intimidating, to me. Speaking to you felt like walking on a tightrope. ...As a child, I imagined that I would feel instantly at ease. That no matter where I was, with this someone, I would feel a sense of belonging… like I could finally come to rest.

Xan: …

Radri: And that's you.

Xan, blindsided: Radri—you very clearly defined how that is not me.

Radri: Not in the beginning, but it is now. (She waves a hand to the side idly.) A lot had to happen, of course, which I could not have imagined as a child—but, anyway. What about you? (She leans into him, wearing a lighthearted smile.) Am I all you dreamed of?

Xan: If you must know, I dreamed of little; I felt early on that I would not be one to continue on the family line, and chose not to dwell on romance.

Xan: But…

Xan: You have been all that I dared not dream of, Estel'amin. In knowing you, I realize that I have starved myself, for a long, long time…

(He kisses her hair, and she accepts it shyly, too touched to say anything. Xan gives her silent, flushed face an amused look.)

Xan: No response? Ah, I must still intimidate you, I see. (Smoothly, he takes her hand.) Perhaps more exposure will help.

—✧✧✧—

Xan: Sigh…

(Xan glances over at Radri, who hasn't looked up from her journal.)

Xan: Sigh…

(Xan glances over at Radri, who still doesn't look up. Xan sighs for real.)

Xan: It used to be that you would look up at my every sign of distress. (Radri finally looks up at him, but Xan looks away) Oh, how I wish big, strong Radri would come here and comfort me…

Radri, laughing a little: Alright, I'm here. What is it that troubles you? A general malaise?

Xan, frowning a little: Is malaise not already general?

Radri: …

Radri, pulling away and cupping her hand around her ear: My apologies, my lord, but I'm getting another call, from Lady Adventure—

Xan: Wait—

Radri: And she doesn't mind if I don't look up my every word in a dictionary—

Xan: Radri! (He sighs and turns away, giving up) I should have known better than to ask for your attention.

Radri, with a little smile: Oh, but I just remembered that I prefer your company to hers, so I redirected her call.

Xan, feeling sorry for himself: If only that were true.

Radri, teasing: Is what I'm hearing a general malaise?

Xan, still too sorry for himself to meet her eye: It is something, alright.

Radri: Well, perhaps I can work my magic.

—✧✧✧—

Rational Grief Response

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Storyteller / Return to Candlekeep

—✧✧✧—

[The first rest after being freed from Candlekeep’s jail; they’re still underground.]

(Radri has hidden herself away in shadow; it’s only through their bond that Xan is able to find where she’s retreated away from the rest of the group. He can’t see her, but he knows she’s nearby.)

Xan: Estel'amin... Will you speak to me?

(For a moment, he fears that he’s mistaken, that she’s not here and that he is only speaking to dust and cobwebs—but at length, she responds.)

Radri: We have nothing to talk about.

(Her voice… he’s facing the wrong alcove. He turns, searching for her direction.)

Xan: You are displeased with me, and for good reason. What I said was uncouth and unwarranted, and it will never happen agai—

(She interrupts his apology, barely listening, her tone clipped and dismissive.)

Radri: You should return to the others. I want to be alone.

(This alcove. He’s sure of it… he thinks. Something is off about her tone of voice, and he realizes that it suggests she’s not angry at him. If not him, then….)

Xan: …I do not think you should be alone in a time like this.

(A bitter laugh—and a fortunate scrap of light hits the familiar crimson of her cloak. There she is, in the darkness: her back is turned to him, and her hair spills dark across her shoulders, which are hunched in on herself as she hugs her knees to her chest, her form made small and cut off from view in the shadow of a cracked pillar. He would like nothing more than to rush over and embrace her—but he waits.)

Radri: Why? Are you afraid that I will spontaneously burst murder and chaos into existence around me if I am left unsupervised?

Xan: Radri—

Radri: The prophecies are written, after all, and I have already been dragging trouble around with me since I stepped out of Candlekeep. All of these spells, these nightmares, and that damned book—I knew it, I knew something was wrong with me! (In the midst of her anger, something in her voice breaks, leaning into sorrow.) You saw it too—dread filled your eyes when you looked at me. And yet when I pleaded with you, you stayed. We sealed it all with a bond that must not break... oh, how deeply you must regret it now. I will never be anything more than an unwanted burden, shuffled between keepers—I am sick of this life!

(He feels for a moment like he’s looking into a mirror—not this lament, but another, though are they not in a way all the same story retold—and the sorry hatred and bitterness in her voice seep readily into his thoughts like an old, unwanted friend. For that moment, he feels it; in the next, he lets it go.)

Xan: Rage at me for my thoughtless words as you will, but do not malign our love. It is true that I once sought to leave you, but it was nothing but the act of a coward, so afraid of the thought of losing you that he believed he would rather live with a hole in his chest than stay and love you. Indeed I knew nothing, for now that I have known your love, nothing across all the Planes could ever convince me of abandoning you again. I have never regretted our bond, nor dreamed of breaking it.

Xan: And what of Gorion? Was he not a father to you—did he not love you as his child? You do yourself and his memory a grave disservice to speak of yourself this way!

(Radri, who had remained unmoving, flinches at his words then with a choked, muffled gasp of breath; he pales, pulling back, worried now that he has overstepped his bounds. And yet, still, he cannot bring himself to leave her entirely to her suffering.)

Xan: If you truly wish it, I will leave. But I fear I cannot believe your request if you do not face me and say it. Please, Estel'amin... will you look at me?

(His heartbeat, loud in his ears, keeps him from any internal estimate of the passage of time. A thought, persistent at the back of his mind, tells him to leave now before he ruins what he has with her any further—and yet he stays.)

(Her cloak slithers across ruined tile, and her form retreats fully behind the blocking pillar… and then she emerges, standing, facing him as he’d asked. Her expression is solemn, and her dark eyes are dull, though something in her gaze still glimmers.)

Radri: I wish I were nothing.

(It is not the truth, and he is relieved for that. He takes a cautious step towards her—and as though he had broken some sort of silent stand-off, Radri’s lip begins to quiver, and then she’s crying, her tears spilling freely down her face. She makes no move to wipe them away; and neither does he, really, because when he rushes to her, he holds her, pulling her to his chest and kissing her atop her head, uncaring of whatever cobwebs certainly cover them both.)

Xan: If you were nothing, how could I hold you? How could I kiss you?

(He kisses her again; she has made no move to hold him in return, but this is a fatigue he understands, and he holds her tightly enough for the both of them.)

Xan: It is painful, I know, but you are here, and my heart is with you—and so is that of your sister, and of your father's old friends, who have through your just leadership become your own. (After just the barest pause, he adds reluctantly,) And I suppose even Viconia must feel some tiny, miniscule shred of supportive, positive emotion somewhere in her heart for you, which is a miracle in itself.

(She is silent, but then,)

Radri: …You referred to her as my sister… Imoen will be overjoyed to hear this.

(It’s too early for her to jest in earnest, but he finds himself holding onto the unlikely hope anyway.)

Xan: Ah, of course, out of everything I have said, this is the one word that sticks. Does this bring a smug smile to your face? I will imagine that it does.

(Radri pulls away from his embrace, which he relaxes, but does not release entirely—nor does she make the full effort to leave. Instead, she gazes quietly at him, seemingly merely in want of the sight of his face. He appreciates the sight of hers in return, but while some life has returned to her endlessly deep eyes, sorrow still lies within. He runs a gentle thumb across her cheek, still stained with tears; he has never truly regretted his nature, but he comes close now.)

Xan, quiet: What should I do, Estel'amin? I am no use in lifting spirits without a spell; that craft has always eluded me. Shall we return to the others, who will surely do what I cannot?

(Rather than accept readily, she glances down and away.)

Radri: I'm... not ready to face them yet. Can you stay here with me... just one moment longer?

Xan: Then I will.

—✧✧✧—

Desire [crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

(In the early morning, in Baldur’s Gate. Radri rouses from her reverie, only to see Xan already packed for his journey, and making his final preparations before he is off.)

Radri: Were you going to leave without waking me?

(Xan turns to face her; his expression holds some disappointment, but also a resignation, and to a subtler degree, a quiet gratefulness.)

Xan: That was my intent, yes. Though I should have known that it would not be so easy to slip away from you undetected.

(He leaves his backpack on its chair, and sweeps back over to the bed, leaning down to lay a gentle kiss upon her forehead. Radri gazes up at him, still blinking away the last sensations of her reverie.)

Radri: But why?

Xan: Why? If you could see yourself now, you would understand why. It was hard enough to muster the will to pull away from your resting form, let alone resist the pull of your vulnerable, open gaze.

(She snags his sleeve as he begins to pull away.)

Radri: I will walk you to the city gates.

Xan: You will not. If I let you accompany me to the gates, the moment I step through them you will declare, “I will walk you to the next town,” and so it will continue until your next words are “I will walk you to Evereska.” No, I must hold you here, and hold firm.

(She's a little put out—he's got her dead to rights. Radri sits up, glancing about the room.)

Radri: You have everything? Spellbook, components, potions—?

Xan, dryly: Yes, you have provided me with enough health potions to outfit a full adventuring party, and I thank you for your confidence in me.

Radri: …Perhaps I should accompany you to the next town anyway.

(She moves to swing her feet over the edge of the bed, ready to get dressed—but Xan stops her with a firm, unamused gaze.)

Xan: Radri, what am I, a fresh-faced youth being sent on his first adventure? (He sighs, and sits at the edge of the bed, taking her hands in his.) I would like nothing more than to take you back to Evereska with me, but its gates are closed to you. Would you have me be so cruel as to force you to wait outside for me as though you were a stranger?

Radri: You could.

Xan: No. You are my hope, my world, and my soulmate. I could not. Besides, it is you who insisted so adamantly that I keep our relationship a secret—not that I planned on telling my superiors anything in the first place, since it is a personal matter. If we were seen together, the nature of our relationship would be known instantly.

Radri: How so?

Xan: Estel'amin, have you forgotten already how you have transformed me? I would need to study for a hundred years to conceal the love I have for you—and I have no desire to, for I would wish for the whole world to know.

Radri, red: Surely not the whole world.

Xan: Indeed, the whole world. Were this land not ripe with our enemies, I would shout it from the rooftops, and spell it out in the sky... but you have already begun to shrink away from me in terror, I see. Do not worry; I will be discretion itself.

Xan: So, are you satisfied with our farewells? May I take my leave now?

(Radri looks at him, and at the backpack on the chair, and at the ceiling and walls of the room that surround them—a room that, without him, will surely feel large, cold, and empty. She will not be alone after he is gone; the others are still here in the city, ready for adventure, wherever it may take them. Still, she feels as though she is about to return to the loneliness she had lived in in Candlekeep: surrounded by many, yet seen by none.)

(Xan, after waiting and watching throughout her silence, begins at last to pull away—but she holds on, one last time.)

Radri: Are you not going to kiss me?

(A deeply tortured look flashes through his dark eyes, which she recognizes now to be of the kind that he used to send her in their early months together. It spells a yearning for that which he believes he should not have—and before she can wonder what it is that he has forbidden himself this time, he leans in, kissing her. He lingers, tender, savoring the moment… as does she. As they part, at last, he gives a soft, gentle sigh.)

Xan: Now I will think of little else but the taste of your lips. You have ruined me, Estel'amin, and yet I carry your soul with me happily, with all the contentment of a man oblivious to or uncaring of death...

Xan: I promise, I will return to you as soon as I am able.

—✧✧✧—

Sad Influence

— — —✧✧✧— — —

baldur’s gate ii: soa

— — —✧✧✧— — —

Reunion

—✧✧✧—

Birthday Wish [partially crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

Promise [crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

Innate Evil

—✧✧✧—

Xan: Do you think your father would have approved of me?

Radri: Hm? My human father, or my divine father? Because from what I've read, Bhaal was a cruel and difficult god to impress, and you haven't the temperament for his methods of worship.

Xan: (shivers) No, and I am glad I do not. I meant Gorion, of course.

Radri: ...

Xan: ...You are giving it more consideration than I thought. Never mind, Radri—it was a foolish question, and perhaps I no longer wish to hear the answer.

Radri: I think he would have liked you. We shared a similar sense of humor; he would have enjoyed your jokes.

Xan: Yes, these famous jokes that I myself am not aware of. I see, so I would become a court jester to not just the princess, but the king, as well.

Radri: I think if you were a court jester, it would be to the king first, and to the princess second. —And did you just liken me to a princess?

Xan, red: A slip of the tongue, I am sure. Though given the abysmal attitudes of nobility in the human lands, you deserve far better than to be compared to—well, let us just move on so that I do not inflate your ego any further.

(Xan turns his gaze back to his spellbook, ready to return to their earlier comfortable silence—but Radri takes his hand in hers with a soft smile.)

Radri: You make me happy, Tahlimil. No matter what he might have thought of you... he would be glad for that.

(The corners of his lips rise slightly, in what has almost become a regular occurrence… then the smile falls.)

Xan: I... mentioned before, my dreams, where my parents disapprove of our relationship....

Xan: I think they would have their misgivings. Certainly about the way that I have thrown everything aside for you, like a lovesick fool... a fool that perhaps I am. I have left my career... left Evereska... and indeed, one could say I will begin to shirk my duty next, though I have not been struck dead yet.

Xan: But I think if they had the chance to know you, they... they...

Xan: *Sigh* Never mind. This is a pointless line of thought. I cannot imagine what they would think, and I will not see them again for an eternity, and that is only if I am lucky. I regret having brought it up.

(Radri gazes quietly at him, then tilts her head against his shoulder, the contact gentle and light. He does not tense, so she squeezes his hand lightly, pressing their palms together: for the briefest moment, some of what burdens him is shared with her.)

(He sighs again—not sharp this time, but soft—and he tilts his head against hers.)

—✧✧✧—

[A while after this exchange:

Xan: I wanted to enchant a ring for you, but this one overshadows everything I will ever be able to give you. How ironic that it comes from the Shadowmaster of Athkatla.

Radri: And how unfortunate that none of us can even wear it, our equipment being what it is. I would rather have your ring, instead.

Xan: A mere bauble will not protect your life, and I have no time to enchant it properly. Perhaps in the future... but no, I have distracted myself from what I wanted to say.]

Radri: I've been thinking about your ring.

Xan: My ring...? Ah, the one that has yet to be made.

Radri: But it already has, hasn’t it? You’ve carried a ring with you ever since you returned from Evereska.

Xan: You noticed? I can slip nothing past you, I see. But it is not complete, Estel'amin—as I alluded to before, it is unenchanted, and as such, it is yet nothing.

Radri: It is not nothing. Its current form is to its advantage: enchanted, it would have to compete with the other enchanted equipment I carry, but unenchanted, I can wear it always.

Radri: Even now, it would bring me courage—or, would you rather that it raise my sense of self-preservation, although as I keep trying to convince you, it is already appropriately high?

Radri: I... I suppose we speak so much of the future now, and of dreams of a quiet life, and when we’re so far from all of it, I’d feel one step closer to…. Oh, never mind. I feel like I’ve stolen a secret from you; I'm sorry, I won't mention it again.

(She looks away, out across the cityscape; in the sunset, even the slums district appears awash in glittering gold. Beside her, Xan remains quiet for a moment, then retrieves something from the pocket of his robes.)

Xan: This ring has been passed down in my House. Through trial and tribulation, and the endless march of time, its magics are gone, having long served their purpose; it holds only its history now. I carried it with me from Evereska thinking, perhaps, that I would give it new life—that when it was ready, I would present it to you in ceremony...

Xan: But perhaps I have been thinking too long.

Xan: Here. My ring, unfinished and unpresentable as it is. If it pleases you, even in such a state as this, it is yours—but I promise you, I will strive to make it worthy of you someday.

Radri, meeting his eye warmly as she accepts it: I love it, Tahlimil. It is already worthy.

Xan, embarrassed and relieved: Why does my mind insist on tormenting me with thoughts of your judgment, when my heart already knows what you will say? Though now that it is on your finger, perhaps it is time to let go of my frivolous dreams of holding a formal ceremony. We may as well just find a quiet spot in which to say our vows.

Radri: No, we must still have the ceremony. Because you wish for it, it must be so, and it will be grand and beautiful.

—

Radri: I lost it.

Xan: Lost what?

Radri: I lost it! Linvail's ring! I had already been thinking of getting rid of it since it only takes up space in my backpack, but—to not even be able to recoup the barest fraction of its value by bringing it to a shop?! Oh, I can't believe I—Xan?

(Radri looks up in time to see Xan shaking in silent laughter, which then bursts out in a full laugh.)

Xan: Of course! Of course, you would care so little about a ring powerful enough to belong to royalty that you let it be misplaced! What an absurd life it is we lead!

Xan: Meanwhile, mere trinkets are given the treatment of kings—even the blooms I had set upon your hair a year ago were kept carefully preserved in your journal, as though they were imbued with a lifetime's worth of magic and not merely painfully ordinary. Sentiment will not save your life, but you hold it dearer than the things that could.

Radri, half insulted: I think I strike an appropriate balance between sentiment and practicality.

Xan: Oh, Estel'amin, smooth the furrow in your brow; I do not laugh at you, but at myself. I see that even if I spent centuries in study, you would not love the ring I enchanted for you for its boons, but for my efforts. What pointless, pointless jealousies I bear…

(His rare mirth fades as he sobers once more.)

Xan: But I am sorry that the ring was lost—it was truly in a class of its own, and now you will earn nothing for it.

Radri, still in shock and awe of what she’s just witnessed: No, I... think in the end, it paid for itself.

—✧✧✧—

Dragon Slayer [crossposted on ao3]

—✧✧✧—

Just Friends (a direct redraw)

—✧✧✧—

A Monster

—✧✧✧—

The Graveyard Encounter (an outline of changes)

[At the inn, after Xan survives and Bodhi lies dead:]

Xan, at the tail end of asking Radri a question: ...What do you think?

(He turns to her, but Radri has her head down, and clearly hasn't been listening to him.)

Xan: Radri?

Radri, quiet: You nearly died.

Xan: I know. Admittedly, I am still shaken by the encounter. If it were not for you and my moonblade, I would have been transformed into something abhorrent... once again, you have my gratitude, Estel'amin.

(Xan seems content to leave it at that, but Radri isn't. She lifts her gaze to his, revealing the tears in her eyes.)

Radri: But it was so close.

Radri: If I hadn't formed a connection to your moonblade—If I hadn't asked the right question that day—

Radri: W-would you even have told me on your own? That it was possible? Or would you have kept silent, and died today?

Xan, worried by how shaken she looks: Radri... none of us are ever far from death. Though it may not look it, every day is like this one. Luck, coincidence, and sheer miracles save us—

Radri, firm, distraught: Our actions save us.

Radri: And today I could do nothing but watch—Don't you understand?

Radri: I-it's not like I couldn't get there fast enough.

Radri: I was right there—but it's like I was frozen again, and—

Radri: And I would've had to watch you die—

(Radri's voice breaks, her tears falling—and Xan, truly concerned now, goes to hold her)

Xan: You did act, Estel'amin. I could not have been saved without your will.

Radri: ....

Radri, unable to word the turmoil she's feeling, just repeating: It was too close.

Xan: I know.

(Radri just lets herself be held for a moment, instinctively searching for him through their bond again, but it's too faint for her to feel anything close to what she did in that moment in the graveyard, when the urgency of the moment had lended her a single-minded determination. She pulls away to look at him—the dusty shoulders of his robes, his combat-mussed hair, the fading scar on his cheek... his worried eyes. She'd caused that, by making a bigger deal of this than he had.)

Radri: Tahlimil?

Xan: Yes?

(She'd wanted to ask that he not leave her sight for the time being, but holds the words back.)

Radri: You... you were asking me something earlier, weren't you? I interrupted you.

(Xan can tell that's not what she wanted to say, but lets her change the subject—and knowing how affected she still is, he changes his question, too.)

Xan: I asked... if you wished to join me in the bath.

(The tub the Copper Coronet provides is barely big enough for one person to soak in, let alone two; Radri tries to communicate this, but in her current state, it comes out as:)

Radri, caught off guard, puzzled: I... but... the inn, it doesn't... what, take turns?

Xan, warm, amused at her sentence fragments: No, no. Would you believe that I discovered a bath house nearby? Far too late to enjoy after our escapades in the sewers, but perhaps it was waiting for when it would be most needed. There is a private room we can share. What do you think?

Radri: Oh. I... I think that sounds nice.

(Xan's small smile becomes relieved as he sees the tension in her shoulders already relax a fraction.)

Xan: Then follow me.

— — —✧✧✧— — —

baldur’s gate ii: tob

— — —✧✧✧— — —

World’s Saddest (Hypothetical) Chosen

—✧✧✧—

Innate Evil, Self Accusation Edition

—✧✧✧—

[The TOB scene where Xan cooks her an omelette.]

(While Radri begins to eat, Xan just leans his chin on his hand, gazing contentedly at her.)

Xan: When this is over... when we have made our home... I would cook breakfast for you each morning.

Radri: I see you don't wish to suffer through my meager skills in the kitchen.

Xan: I could never find any aspect of my lady wanting, and your skills will grow with time. No, I would cook for you to love you.

(It’s been so long, and he’s said that he loves her so many times, that Radri imagines she should have developed at least some resistance to it by now—but she hasn’t. She blushes, touched.)

Radri: Are you not going to eat, too?

(Xan gazes dreamily at her blushing features, fully content.)

Xan: Oh, I have already been fed, and most heartily. If I had known even earlier the extent of what shy expressions you reveal in private...

(Radri blushes harder.)

Radri: Each day it becomes harder to believe that you are the same man who spent ten minutes gathering the words to ask if he could kiss me.

Xan: Ah, but I am not the same man. I am remade each time I wake and meet your eyes; each day I walk at your side; each night I rest my beating heart beside yours. I have been transformed a thousand times over, and wish to be again.

Radri, gathering him a forkful: I think you should be transformed by this omelette.

(Xan takes the bite from her fork, and his expression falls, disappointed.)

Xan: Oh... I do not think I added enough salt, after all.

—✧✧✧—

silly alternate universes

radri was raised “evil”

radri was raised in evereska

#i didn't even know what to title this. 7000 words of me getting this ship out of my system??#sovo writes #baldur's gate #honestly though the way he was like 'she'll get over me' after the effect he had in HERE is like. i dont think so my man #xan x radri

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