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pedros-immaculate-vibes · 11 months

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A Peaceful Elf

Part V

Halsin/Tav fanfic (slow burn, fluff, angst)

Sun-dappled poppies swayed in the gentle morning breeze beneath low-hung branches. The fog had not yet lifted from the lake’s surface, lazily swirling in fickle eddies. The mild sun warmed a heron’s back and coaxed it to sing.

“GALE, for gods’ sakes, cast SILENCE on that DAMNED bird!”

You and Karlach sat against a log, knees up to your chest, regretting many choices from last night. You felt you would regret more, if only you could recollect them.

“As you wish, my dear,” acquiesced the wizard and, with a trifling flick of his wrist and a phrase, the bird was encased in sound-proof air. He continued to walk over, two mugs of something hot and fizzing on a platter. “Here you go: ‘Oghma’s Morning Draught’. One for you,” he gingerly placed it by your ankle, “And one for you,” just as gingerly placed by Karlach.

“You’re a chum, Gale…ch—cheers,” the tiefling weakly raised her mug to the wizard, sniffed the bubbling concoction, then slowly began to sip it, her eyes narrowing.

You looked obliquely at your cup. “I didn’t know you dabbled in tavern medicine,” you stalled, trying to see to the bottom. “…where did you learn this?”

“Believe it or not, from a fellow wizard. Goes by the name of Elminster, perhaps you’ve heard of him?” The way his eyebrow quirked and his face lit up meant you should have heard of him.

Deception worked best in moments like this. “OH, EL-minster, yes! Yes, I have heard…stories,” your stomach churned. Panicking, you glanced at Karlach, half expecting to see her shrink, grow a third arm or some other transmutative nonsense.

Instead, a thin, green glow outlined her with a crackle, and her bright eyes shot to him. “HA, GALE, you could have been a cleric in another life!” Full of energy, she bounced up and slapped him on the shoulder, accidentally singeing his robe. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice; he was too busy trying to regain his balance. “Well, I’m glad it set you right! Not that there was any doubt, of course,” a deeply smug grin as he rolled his shoulder.

They both looked at you. Clearly, it was your turn.

You peered down at the mug in your hand again. A sense of dejavu swept over you as you thought piece of cake.

***

The concoction didn’t work as smoothly for you as it did for Karlach. You blamed the fact that she had literal hellfire inside her that incinerated whatever evil was in that cup, and you, a mere half-elf, had none. Gale was especially attentive to you for the rest of the morning, mumbling something about “possible unexpected side effects”.

The Druid would be at camp soon. He had promised to assist Zevlor and the refugees prepare for their journey; after that, he had planned to arrive at camp and discuss the journey to Moonrise. There had been some talk of the details last night, but to be honest, you couldn’t remember much of them. Frankly, you couldn’t remember much of anything after the fifth glass. You just remembered swooning (you think), embarrassment at someone making fun of you, and then feeling like you could charm the fire out of Tiamat himself. But that was all, just shards of feeling.

You knew where to start with the second one.

“Hey, ‘star, did you see me do anything out of the ordinary last night? I woke up alone in my bedroll, so I expect any damage to be at a minimum.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that. My NAME is Astarion. Not,” he flicked his hands out near his face like two fireworks, “ ‘Star’. It sounds like I work at a circus.”

“Okay, then how about Rion?”

A withering glare. “You know, now that you mention it, you did make your way over to that druid, ‘Hasslezin’, all worked up. You were quite the little hussy,” a coquette look, “almost put me to shame. Batted your eyes, I think I saw you place your hand on his—”

“Good Morning!” That booming voice echoed through the little glen. You slowly turned and saw him at the entrance to the camp, sun shining from directly behind him. Your stomach tightened and you couldn’t tell if it was because he looked at you or because you were about to hurl again.

“Go get ‘im, you little minx,” he whispered near your ear, two pats on your upper arm before walking over to see if there were any leftover bits from breakfast.

Deep breath in, shaky deep breath out. You braced yourself and walked over to the perky elf. Clearly, he was a morning person.

“Good morning, Halsin,” you bowed your head a bit, immediately regretting the movement and feeling dizzy.

From up close, he seemed more tense. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his massive hand twitch. Tense…I bet those feel lovely tensed around my— Oh my god, he’s here to talk and you’re still hung over, WHAT is wrong with you. Maybe he just isn’t a morning person? Or maybe I was a complete and utter idiot last night, and he was sober enough to remember. Dread rained down your shoulders and into your already uneasy gut.

“Hello there. I trust, you enjoyed your evening?” Yup, there was something in his voice that betrayed unspoken thoughts.

The others in the camp made their way over. He straightened up, making you realize he’d hunched down to be closer to your level. Aw, that’s kinda cute.

“After all your efforts,” he looked to everyone, “last night was well deserved. It may be some time before you are afforded another such night - there is much to be done and,” slight hesitation, “I promised I would help you however I could. I’m certain a cure for you can be found at Moonrise Towers, but it’s… complicated.”

“Ch’k,” a sound of disapproval came from behind you. “Doubtful,” murmured Lae’zel.

Halsin pretended not to hear. “The journey, specifically, is extremely perilous.” His countenance lightened and he looked at you, “Though, it seems you’re well accustomed to navigating danger.” Your stomach flipped, this time not unpleasantly.

Wyll chimed in, “To Moonrise Towers, then.” He had learned of his father’s abduction and that the zealots had stolen the duke away to this seemingly prominent location; more bad news on top of everything else he had to bear. “May the sun and stars guide us.”

Curiosity stabbing, you asked, “What’s so dangerous about it?”

Halsin’s voice lowered. “To get to the Towers, you’ll need to pass through a terrible place - a cursed place.” The topic seemed to cause an unease in him. “This curse shrouds everything in shadow. You will not find life, light or anything natural there.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound too bad,” commented Astarion, sarcastically.

“I’m quite serious,” Halsin’s tone shifted to a painful tension. Astarion’s smirk washed away.

“Any who linger are twisted by the curse; they become shadow beings: tormented, dangerous souls.”

A heavy stillness seemed to drift onto all of you. You shook it off; something didn’t add up. “The Absolute’s forces can tolerate such a place?”

He almost smiled at your shrewdness, “So it seems, though I don’t know how. You will have to choose your approach carefully. You could go overland, along the Risen Road or through the mountains. Easier at first, but you’ll run into the shadow curse eventually.” His voice elevated slightly, as if to subtly hint a preference, “You could go under. There is a tunnel somewhere in the ruined temple of Selune. It leads to Moonrise through the Underdark. Long ago, a man called Ketheric Thorm built a secret stronghold deep down there, before rallying a whole army of Dark Justiciers, Shar worshippers.”

“Dark Justiciers? That can’t be a coincidence…I need to go and see for myself,” Shadowheart muttered, uncharacteristically dumbstruck.

“Aradin and his lot were looking for a way down there; they were promised riches if they retrieved a relic called the Nightsong. If you can find this place, I’ll wager it will reveal a more direct path to Moonrise Towers and maybe even bypass the worst of the shadow curse.”

You smiled. “Good news: We discovered what looked to be the outpost right before we found you.”

“Already? Huh, if only I’d gone with you instead of with Aradin.” The first time you’d seen him smile since he’d arrived. The idea of traveling with him sooner— Shut up, not the time.

“I would like to join your camp.”

Sudden numbness. You thought he would travel for a short distance or offer aid in the way of missives by bird or marks on a map. Maybe just supplies. Not eating, sleeping walking around and killing time with you. Well, with all of you.

“If you’ll allow me. I can offer my skills, my counsel,” he sounded almost hopeful about it.

That’s not all he could off—OH MY GOD will you PLEASE stop.

“I’ve long sought to return to Moonrise Towers,” a tentative smile, waiting to be accepted, “It seems our fates have aligned.”

This seemed too ideal, there had to be something amiss; something unaccounted for. “What about the grove?”

“I’ve chosen a successor as First Druid: Francesca of the High Forest. A bird’s already been dispatched to summon her.”

You were still processing it all. “Ah, well, I trust your judgement.”

He stood, unfazed. “I’m glad you approve. I do not truly care if you approve, but I am glad.”

Cheeky. Not that you could pretend you minded.

“The grove needs to move beyond the mistakes of the past. What it needs is an outsider who can enforce the Oak Father’s teachings without bias. Hence, why I chose Francesca. She will restore simplicity and purity to the grove in my absence.”

Sounds like he knows this Francesca pretty well; and, it made sense.

“Very shrewd of you,” you admitted.

Halsin smirked. “Contrary to how some think of us, we druids can play politics when necessary.” He adjusted to address everyone again, “Now, we’ve quite the journey ahead. Best get started.”

***

That morning’s meeting lead into planning provisions and Gale offering to look for maps of the Underdark to ascertain the best areas to avoid. Everyone found something to do, especially you.

After a midday meal that Karlach had put together, your stomach was eased and you mustered the courage to ask the druid a few uncomfortable questions—to shine some light on what Astarion had mentioned. If you were to journey with him from here on out, understanding where you stood was necessary. Start with something easy. You made your way over, steadying yourself inside, and stood next to him for a moment; he had removed his druidic armor and was engrossed in organizing a crate, taking inventory. Another moment later and he saw your boots out of the corner of his eye, then scanned up along the rest of you, straightening himself up. A faint smile, “You wish to speak?”

“I was just thinking, it can’t have been easy, surrendering your title. Won’t you miss being First Druid?”

A wide grin filled with disbelief, “Miss it? Oh dear, no, it’s a terrible burden. Takes you away from nature and forces you to deal with other’s problems and personalities.”

How much more could you relate to this man, Gods above.

“Be wary of anyone who actually wants such a role, I say. Likely, they don’t understand it, or they have ill intent.” He let out a contented sigh and looked beyond the camp, pausing a moment. “I’m just glad to be out here amidst the Oak Father’s creations.”

There was a tender look in his eyes; it contrasted starkly with the scar across his face. You wondered how it would feel to caress it—No, no, not right now. Not the time.

“I must admit, I did want to address something,” you ground the toe of your boot into the ground, and kicked the indent, looking off to another part of the camp. You leaned in a bit, looking back to him, “At the celebration last night, I—I hope I didn’t come across as too strong.” You huffed and looked up at the lean-to’s ceiling behind him. “I…got caught up in the moment.” You braced yourself once more and looked back at him to see his reaction.

It was a quiet smile. Almost pleased? He leaned down, as if conspiring with you.

“Hm, there are few things that are too strong for me.”

Oh my GODS.

“And cast those regrets aside,” he waved his hand between you as if wafting away a cobweb. “You did not get caught up in the moment, you seized it.”

SIR.

“In other circumstances,” you noticed he sounded a bit breathless and you saw his eyes glaze over briefly, as if he were thinking of something else, “I would have done the same.” He focused back on you, eyes darkened.

“Other circumstances…?”

A flame burned in the pit of your belly, and you wanted to lean in, let him know that he should prioritize those other circumstances more often; consider it a form of lending aid, if that helped. Every little off-color and dirty thought you had that morning flooded back to you when he patted you on the shoulder. You realized you hadn’t breathed since he started talking.

“Perhaps,” he said flippantly, straightening up with a self-satisfied grin. He turned to his previous preoccupation, frowning back into the crate, “but best to not dwell on nights past.” He rested his weight on the opposing sides of the crate. It very clearly bowed beneath his arms as he stretched, flexing his shoulders back. Halsin cocked his head to you, “There are plenty more to come.” A smoldering gaze lingered above a crooked smile.

You think you said that you’d promised to go hunt for a few pheasants or something akin to it. He didn’t seem to believe you and chuckled, but let you go tend to it nonetheless.

In truth, you went to the nearest isolated creek and took a cold bath.

Gods, this trip would end you.

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