Chapter Text
Chapter Fifteen - Fix me, please.
Octavia looked back at Halsin leading the team coming right behind them. He also did not seem where to go. The drow stopped and perked her ears, took a step further, her eyes trying to pierce out the darkness. A shiver ran down her spine. The cold, the smell of death, the darkness… Everything about this place screamed of desperation and evil. Octavia raised her gaze to the sky. Not a glimmer of either a blue day or a starry night. Just unfathomable darkness. Another step. She felt like sinking in fear, tunneling through the darkness… It wasn’t so bad after all… like a cold embrace and all of her afflictions would be over…
And then, a voice calling from the shadows brought her back to reality.
“Eyes open, watch the shadows!”
Everything happened way too quickly. As Octavia tried to shake away the irresistible call from the darkness, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her skull as Shadowheard grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her back towards the light and the warmth of the group. The voices continued, full of fear and noticeable determination. Normal voices, normal people, carrying torches amidst the darkness.
“Stay together!” Barked the strong woman’s voice. “Keep to the light!”
Karlach came sliding down the small slope to check on Octavia, making too much noise on her way down. They heard the group on the other side of the road bend stop, alert.
“Stop! Who’s there?” The woman’s voice demanded. They heard steps approaching and weapons being unsheathed.
“Shit!” Murmured Octavia. She could not make sense of who but the cultist she would be able to find in such a place. Shadowheart looked at her, eyes wide open. Lae’zel unsheathed her broadsword. At the back, the group led by Halsin stopped, also alert. Octavia took a deep sigh and stepped away from her hiding spot, raising her hands in a peace gesture and preparing to speak their way out of the situation or fight if necessary.
The woman had a strong face to match her strong voice. She wore a dark cloak and her curly hair had been set with an elegant headband as if to try to keep her essence amidst the nightmare of that place.
“My name is Octavia…” She said, still analyzing the woman’s clothing and face. She did not look like an absolutist. There was no Absolute symbol visible on her attire or the one of their companions.
“First, come closer. Hands up!
The sorcerer slowly stepped forward, hands still up, and tried to convey a smile. They all seemed startled at seeing her there. Maybe because she was a drow, or just because she was another living soul in that nightmare. They all stepped back carefully. The blonde man on the back of their group stumbled to the shadows and instinctively Octavia reached out like she could help him or stop him from sinking into darkness. The woman in command did not even flinch at her gesture but turned to the man at her back.
“Yonas! Yonas! Move in!”
But it was too late. The man’s expression relaxed and he stared into the darkness. He took one more step before massive shadowy claws grabbed him and dragged him deeper into the shadows. The other woman in the group cried out his name, and his voice came loose and distant from the shadows in response.
“I’m here! Where are you?”
The leader lifted up her torch “Yonas? Can you see our torches?”
“I can’t see anything… Something’s wrong…” Finally, the panic that seemed fitting for the situation seemed to settle in his tone.
“Follow my voice. Come back to the light!” The leader pleaded but the man seemed more panicked distant and lost than ever.
“Who’s there? Meg? Is that - ARGH!”
A horrible scream, the noise of claws and suction. Octavia and the group on the road seemed paralyzed in time, in shock looking at the shadows behind.
“... Yonas?” The younger woman cried out.
And out of nowhere a corrupted shadowy version of the blonde man once called Yonas launched itself from the shadows, grabbing onto the woman’s throat, his voice coming out in a horrible raspy whisper.
“There you are… Come join me!”
Octavia shook herself out of her stupor as more shadowy figures approached from the darkened woods around them.
“Get ready to fight!” She yelled back at her companions. The woman who seemed to be the leader of the other band had already jumped to free the other one from the cold dangerous grasp of Yonas and yelled “Harpers! To arms!”
Harpers? That was curious…
The fight was a tough one. The cold claws of the shadowy creatures seemed to cling to their souls and attempt to pull their very essence through their wounds. Karlach and Lae’zel protected them as well as they could, but the one who really made a difference was Shadowheart, using a daylight spell to expose and blind the creatures, the mace of Lathander hitting and crushing the ethereal creatures as if they were also made of flesh. With the whole group helping, the creatures were soon defeated, despite how hard they hit. Once they all breathed for a quick second, both groups stared at each other, the Harpers seemingly assessing their state and intentions, and certainly noticing they were fighting a bigger and more capable group than their own. The leader pondered for just a moment, before saying out loud.
“Well done. Now, we’ve got to move. I’m harper Lassandra. I know a safe place. Give me your map.”
Octavia quickly asked Gale for their map and handed it to the woman, who marked a spot not too far from where they were right now.
“Keep your torch high. If you step into the shadows, you’ll be felled in a heartbeat.” She warned.
“Yes, we saw…” Gale said, still looking at the felled darkened body of Yonas.
“Safe place? You mean somewhere the shadows can’t penetrate?”
“That’s right. Protected by magic. Only spot in the region that’s not been swallowed up by this damn curse. Light’ll save you here on the outskirts, but a few paces deeper and you`re screwed. If you want to catch your breath, the inn`s the only place to do it. Hope to see you there.” And with a last glance at all of them, she ordered her men out and left through the road.
Octavia and Karlach exchanged a look.
“Shall we check this shelter?” The drow asked out loud.
“The harpers were allies in the fight against Ketheric and his justiciars years back here. I can only assume they are our allies once more” Halsin said gravely.
Octavia shot Shadowheart a quick glance, but the cleric’s expression was as blank as it could be.
“So I believe we should go…”
“Agreed”
“Anywhere to avoid this unfathomable dark is a good place.” Wyll added solemnly.
Halsin stopped at her side, taking a deep mournful sigh: “The Shadow curse is upon us. As foul as I remember it. Perhaps even worse. But with the Oak Father’s blessing, we may soon see it banished from these lands…”
Octavia studies his expression. There was sadness, grief, and even a bit of guilt in it.
“If I did not know you… I’d risk saying it seems like you feel responsible for this shadow curse somehow…” She risked, still studying every inch of his face.
“Well… There’s hardly anyone left to share the responsibility with. Few who witnessed the fall of Moonrise still draw breath. What Ketheric Thorm unleashed is not something that nature can undo by itself. I must do what I can. I studied the shadow curse for years. But to truly understand it, and stop it - I must reach its source.”
“These lands must bring back bad memories for you. I hope you’re still faring all right with us. And I hope you don’t mind me probing a little more later. I feel like I must learn what I can in order to make decisions that will keep us as safe as possible.”
“It’s not easy, seeing the ravages of the shadow curse… But your camp and company is a most welcome solace. And yes. Let us talk and share more about this place later.”
“Thanks…”
“You’ve shared your fire with me, your company. A small pocket of light against the darkness of these lands, and yet one I couldn’t do without. Thank you.”
Octavia looked at his face once more. His expression had changed from one of grief and loss to a more… famished one as his eyes wandered around her. She frowned. What the…
“I’m glad you feel comfortable… But let’s keep focused at the same time.”
“Prudent. But I hope we won’t have to contend with the perils of the curse for long. There’s more to living than just survival. Much, much more.”
Octavia frowned even more, thinking of an answer. She glanced at Karlach, who was apparently oblivious to the situation, trying to teach her famous dance step to Wyll.
“What in the hells is that?” Astarion voice sounded out. Octavia looked at him, somewhat grateful to have a reason to excuse herself from that very awkward conversation. His expression was horrified, facing a dark orb on the floor. These orbs seemed to be what was left of the Shadowy creatures they slain.
“Ew! Don’t touch that, man!” Karlach pitched in.
“I was looking to see if they left anything valuable behind! We need resources to fund our little campaign… But…”
Octavia approached him and the orb, quickly and gratefully leaving Halsin behind. Maybe it was something alchemical? She leaned in, extending her hand to touch it, and, suddenly, her mind was filled with memories that were not hers. Feelings that were not hers. A simple house, a small family, a bit of joy, initial hope, despair, resentment, and then… Darkness. Complete and utter darkness. She stepped away, panting, her stomach churning.
“See! It is awful!” Astarion said, glancing at her pained expression
“It is…” She answered with a weak voice.
“These seem to be the essences of who these people were before they…” Halsin’s voice died out as he did not finish his sentence.
“Leave it.” Octavia said resolutely, still feeling nauseated. “It might be dangerous. Let’s move, if there is a place where this darkness can’t cling to me I’d very much like to reach it as soon as possible.”
Eyes on the map and on the road the harpers had taken, Octavia darted forward, keeping close to the lit surroundings of their party, as Shadowheart’s shield glowed with the strength of sunshine, only for the light to be swiftly engulfed by the darkness only a few feet away from its source. Astarion approached her and touched her arm lightly, signalizing her to halt her step a little bit and nodding at Shadowheart who went in the front of the group. Octavia looked at him inquisitively but he just repeated the gesture, so she obliged.
“Here.” He pushed a large slimy mushroom into her hand. “This is a Noblestalk we collected when we rescued some dwarf guy who was lost in the Underdark. Apparently, it is really valuable because it has some interesting properties. It can restore memory. But I think more than selling it… we have a more valuable thing to do with it.”
Octavia lifted an eyebrow, curiously. It was not like Astarion to pass on the chance of profit.
“What do you mean?”
Astarion took a deep sigh, visibly unhappy with how slow she was to get what he meant.
“I mean… our cleric has some memory problems. And seems absolutely keen on a suicide mission to become a blind servant of this dark goddess of her in these abhorrent dark lands. Maybe this mushroom can restore her memory and make her more pliable. I very much would like to keep having her at our side, not because I like her very much, but because without her healing spells, I am pretty sure we would all be dead by now. Is that good enough of an explanation or should I draw it for you?”
“I hate you.”
“Well, thank you. So, I tried to hint at her, but she did not listen to me very much. So I thought you should try. She thinks highly of you, for some reason.”
“Right. It is a good point, Astarion. I’ll talk to her, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Good. I figured. If she does not eat it by herself, bring it back to me and I’ll sneak it into her wine.”
“Absolutely not.” Octavia said abruptly.
“Why so righteous…”
Octavia just walked away, rolling her eyes, hearing the vampire snicker at her back. He did have a point, though. She was worried about Shadowheart’s behavior since they entered the Shadow-Cursed lands. Without the cleric, they probably did not stand a chance against the Absolute. Besides, even with all the moodiness and shady behavior, she really liked Shadowheart. The half-elf was the closest friend she had, and Octavia knew she was in fact really sweet and considerate behind the whole mean facade she put on. She sighed, looking ahead at the cleric’s braid swinging with every step. It would be an interesting conversation, to say the least.
They kept going for a couple more hours until the strange visage of a light dome behind the treeline could be seen on the right side of their path. With renovated energy, they moved faster through the shadows, reaching a road bend and a bridge, where the light dome seemed to start. Octavia looked at the map. They had arrived at the safe space the Harper had promised. She looked back at the group and warned: “Best behavior now, kids. We don’t want to get kicked out of the only safe place in this shithole.”
As she stepped ahead, Karlach’s heat comforted her back. When she crossed the barrier of the light dome, she felt instantly lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She took a deep breath. The air felt less rotten here, the shadows did not cling to her skin and the place was strangely lively after the stillness of the rest of these lands. People walked around, sharpening weapons, drinking their ale, or trading goods. As the drow’s eyes feasted in the spectacle that was watching life happening once more, one of the harpers, an elf with beautiful ebony skin, halted her, with an aggressive stance.
“You there! Step forward and keep your hands off your weapons!”
Octavia halted and she heard the tumult of several footsteps and people colliding behind her, as her companions also halted. She raised her hands in a peace gesture for the second time that day. She looked around for the harper that had invited them to their safehouse and saw the woman coming quickly in their direction.
“Easy! They’re with me!”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, but she lowered her weapon just a little bit. “Come… Jaheira!”
An older woman was approaching fast, also of elven ancestry. Octavia’s ears picked only Karlach audibly gasping in surprise and excitement behind her before she was completely wrapped in vines that kept her in place. Surprised, she gasped, as the woman, probably a druid, held her hand up, clearly controlling the vines that kept her in place. She tossed a look to Lassandram the harper that they had helped, who looked apologetic, before clearing her voice and saying in a tone that she expected to clear the tension, at least a little bit: “Just this once, I wish people would simply say hello.”
“Hello.” The woman said monotone, a clear provocation. Octavia heard Karlach giggling excitedly. She looked at the tiefling over her shoulder, angry. She was wrapped in vines, the woman was clearly being disrespectful to her, and her partner was giggling excitedly. What in the hells was going on? The sorcerer looked back at this Jaheira and, controlling her anger the best she could as the draconic growl filled her mind, she answered: “I saved your soldiers and this is the thanks I get?”
“Kindness is too often a decoy.” The woman answered simply. She was not wrong. “This…” She said pulling a jar from her puch very slowly and deliberately “Is why we’re here, you see.” She slowly spun the jar around her fingers. Octavia now saw that the contents of that jar were no other than an Illithid tadpole. She contained a shriver, imagining that same worm squirming around in her own head. The woman however, was unphased, and simply continued. “It is a curious creature that hides all manner of secrets. But there if there’s one thing that we know…” And she brought the jar closer to Octavia’s head. Her brain throbbed in response, her vision blurred and her stomach churned. Through all the discomfort, she could only hear the woman continuing: “It’s that it knows its own kinds. You should never have come here, True Soul.”
Anger pushed a bit of the pain and the discomfort away this time.
“I am not… A True Soul… We are not true souls!” She managed to shout back.
“STOP!” A child’s voice interrupted, accompanied by fast footsteps. The visage if the young, red-skinned rageddy tiefling wearing an eyepatch, brought so much joy to Octavia’s heart that she almost forgot about the uncomfortable situation that she and her party were actually in right now. She genuinely beamed, and the tiefling grinned back at her.
“What are you doing? She’s the one who saved us!”
“She’s the one who protected the Emerald Grove?” The druid asked confused.
“Yup! Didn’t leave a goblin standing. Not so bad to hang around with either! Saved two of my friends - one from a harpy, and one from a mad druid with a snake. Didn’t make a fuss of our thieving either… I’d pretty much trust her… Them with my life!” The little girl kept beaming at her. Then it hit her. If Mol was there, possibly so was… Dammon. And possibly… a fix to Karlach’s heart. Her own heart jumped inside her chest, bringing a level of excitement that pretty much wiped away the worry about Jaheira and her bloody harpers. By the hells, she would wipe them all out if needed.
“A true soul with a mind of her own… How is that possible?”
Octavia smiled, rolled her eyes, then smiled again. “I said I am no true soul. It is because of this artifact…” Whatever it took to convince Jaheira now, she would do. She pulled out the Githyanki artifact, the astral prism that protected them from the influence of the Absolute. The tadpole in the jar squirmed and squeaked before bursting up open, its disgusting insides tinting the glass with a greenish hue. Jaheira seemed out of words. She looked from the jar with the dead creature to the artifact, to Octavia’s face, to back to the artifact.
“What in the hells is that thing?”
“Well, so far it’s been a life-saver. Here’s hoping you agree…
“More or less..”
“We can talk more in-depth later… after we are rested and…” Her eyes scoured the area, looking for signs of the blacksmith. She even felt pathetic. Nothing else mattered right now. If the blacksmith was there, maybe, finally, she would be able to touch the woman she loved and longed for.
“Congratulations! You’ve earned yourself the benefit of the doubt.” The druid said, finally letting her go free of the vines. “I’ll not pretend to understand what that artifact is, but I’m old and wise enough to recognize a sliver of hope when it crawls out of the dark. Tell me - Why have you come here?”
“To destroy the Absolute in its lair: Moonrise Towers. And to free our heads of this abomination.” And to fix my woman’s heart, apparently.
“Then you found an ally in me, for that is precisely why I am here. There’s food in the inn over there. Beds too, if you lot require rest. Aloe oil in the cupboard in case the vines gave you a rash. Settle in, then come join me for a drink. You may just be the godsend we’ve been praying for.”
Spinning in her heels, Jaheira marched towards the inn, with Mol waving at them and running after her blabbering about them. Octavia turned to look back at the group, barely containing her excitement, to find an even more excited Karlach coming to meet her halfway.
“Oh my god, soldier! That’s Jaheira! The Jaheira!”
Octavia was suddenly reminded that Karlach was excited about that woman putting her in a dangerous situation. She frowned.
“Yeah, the Jaheira that almost sicced a pack of Harpers on us. And almost… you know, choked me to death with those nasty vines!” She scratched her neck, knowing damn well that the vines were never even close to the skin there.
“The vines were nowhere near that precious neck of yours. And hey! It would’ve been an honor.”
“Sorry if I do not perceive it that way… listen…”
But Karlach was way too excited and cut her off “Years ago - over a century - Jaheira was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Saverok. A Bhaalspawn trying to plunge the city into war. My mum used to tell us stories about them - the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Adamant. Tough. I’ve told myself those stories a thousand times since. I never thought I’d meet Jaheira. She’s a hero and I was always… well Some Outer City kid… Can’t believe she wants to talk to us about working together! What a day…”
Octavia could not contain a smile seeing Karlach absolutely fangirling about some old-time hero she heard stories of. The woman probably could not tell what an absolutely here she was herself, and that was endearing. She smiled fondly, chuckled even, and said “Yeah… What a day. Is that the only thing you can point out about how lucky this encounter is?” She asked, barely containing the laughter of excitement and the curiosity.
“More impressive than meeting Jaheira?”
Octavia chuckled again. “Well.. That depends. But did you connect the dots… If Mol is here, maybe so are the other tieflings, and with them…”
“Dammon!” Karlach said, pointing at someone behind Octavia’s shoulder. The drow’s heart almost jumped out of her mouth. She looked back so fast that her neck cracked. There, in front of what seemed to be an improvised forge inside of a barn, was the handsome tiefling with orange skin, green eyes, and a kind smile. The one who had so gently fixed Karlach’s heart the first time and promised her a chance of finally being able to touch others again. He opened his arms in a recognition gesture. Karlach laughed so loudly and heartily that Octavia’s heart skipped a beat. The sorcerer’s eyes filled with tears…
“Karlach!”
“Dammon!” The tiefling repeated excitedly.
The blacksmith came walking broad steps in their direction.
“I thought you’d be in the city by now! We were ambushed by cultists. Half of us were captured, the other half ran here.”
“Off the anvil, into the forge. We’ll find them - hopefully." Karlach said sympathetically. Octavia just felt her heart racing with the excitement.
“Before you run off into the belly of the beast, there’s something I need to tell you. Well, two things. Good news and bad news.”
Octavia’s heart seemed about to explode.
“Give us the good news!” Karlach almost shouted, barely containing her excitement, dancing in place.
Dammon smiled kindly.
“Well, I only need one more piece of infernal iron to craft an insulating chamber that could make it possible for Karlach to…
“Touch people?!” Karlach was so excited her voice cracked. Octavia giggled, barely containing her own excitement as well.
“Exactly”
“Dammon you’re a genius!” Octavia replied, thankful for the infernal blacksmith.
“Oh my gods, it’s really happening! It’s been so long ! We’ve got the iron… Let’s do this thing!” Karlach sounded teary and emotional. Octavia felt the urge to hug her for support. Not yet... But soon...
“Hang on… I think…”
“Dammon, buddy, I understand your concern but… just fix me. Please…
Octavia’s mind hung for a second in the existence of bad news that could ruin that moment, but Karlach’s excitement and the perspective of finally being together swept it off. Nothing could ruin her joy now. And she would not let anything ruin this moment for her woman.
“Go on, give him the iron, darling. Let’s make this happen. It has been way too fucking long!”
Karlach was already fumbling through her bag and handed the dense metal slab to Dammon.
“Well… All right.” The backsmith took a deep sigh “This shouldn’t take long.”
Karlach turned at Octavia, vibrating with excitement.
“I can’t fucking believe it… It is happening and sooner than we thought.”
“It is, baby!” Octavia’s heart was about to burst.
“Well, I think that calls for some celebration. There’s booze and we have food. I believe we can have a little party if you’re willing. That is… if you’re not just keen to taking Octavia to bed straight away.” Shadowheart said with a smile, making both women turn their heads, realizing she was there for the first time.
“Fuck me… I don’t even know what I want… Yeah, sure, a little celebration seems nice! I think I wanna hug all of you. And Wrestle Lae… I could do push-ups with will on my back as well. That sounds fun… I wanna dance with Tav and… and… I think I gotta run a lap around this place now. Fuck…”
And without waiting for an answer, the barbarian darted away. Octavia giggled at her excitement and then turned to Shadowheart.
“A little party then. That sounds good. I just realized now I’m slightly nervous. I’m far from looking my best. And… She hasn’t been touched in 10 years. The responsibility is pretty high…” She twisted her hands, still looking at Karkach running.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the party. I’ll get Wyll to help me. He’s gonna love the idea. You focus on getting your head in place. Maybe take a bath, make yourself pretty. I have some hair balm if you want.”
“That would be great. Thanks, Shadowheart.”
“No worries. I think you deserve it. After everything. And so does she… I’ll talk to her about a bath too, all this running and excitement… well, you got it. Now excuse me. I have a little party to prepare…”
Shadowheart left and the sound of Dammon hammering away the piece of infernal iron was all that could be heard. Octavia observed the tiefling shaping and molding the piece to make the contraption that would compose a part of the heart of the woman she loved . She remembered him warning about bad news. She thought of going over and asking him. Than she shook her head. No. That was not fair. The news was Karlach’s to hear. Not hers. And she did not want anything to ruin the mood that night. Besides, she was pretty sure Dammon would not tell her anything without Karlach’s presence. So she took Shadowheart’s advice and went inside the inn. It was a simple but cozy building. A lot of the tieflings were there, including Alfira, the bard and the children she had met at the grove. She gave Alfira a hug, asked Jaheira about a place to have a bath and informed her that they would have a small celebration and purchase some alcohol from the inn. Alfira seemed happy enough about having some joy around, and so did most of the harpers that were around. Even the darkest times needed a bit of music and joy. She smiled. Lifting the spirits. Preparing for something grand… Being something grand the first encounter with a lover, or a battle that could define their futures.
Shadowheart handed her a jar of hair balm. A harper gave her directions to a room in the upper floor where she could take a bath and soon, Octavia saw herself submerginh in a tub of lukewarm water. It was far from the hot baths, full of essential oils and bubbles she would take at home when she had the means to splurge on vanities like that. But it was such an improvement from the cold baths in muddy rivers that she felt all of her tired and sore muscles relaxing. She washed her hair and her skin, tracing the new scars she had gotten from the many battles she had fought. A thin one in her abdomen from being stabbed by a goblin. A thick deep one on her thigh, from where a githyanki spear had gotten her. The line in her neck from when she had literally died in the githyanki crèche. All of those did not match the aesthetic of the old soft bohemian Octavia. But she liked them. It was a reminder of the new person she had become, of how tough she could be. Besides, her barbarian had plenty of scars, and she liked that they could match them.
When she felt clean and relaxed enough, she left her bath, dried herself in the rough towel and put on the same camp dress she always wore. She had nothing else to wear, so that would have to do. When they got to the Gate, she would need to go shopping. She giggled, looking at her figure in the mirror. She looked better than she thought. Her arms looked more toned than she remembered, and lifting the skirt she saw that her thighs and calves had visible muscle lines. All that walking, running and fighting had changed her inside and out. She pinched her lips and cheeks to give them more color, fixed her hair, and left the room. Across the hall, Karlach left another room. Wet hair, clean camp clothes, and the most beautiful smile on her lips. Octavia’s heart raced. She smiled. They walked fast toward each other, stopping as close as possible, looking each other in the eye. Octavia raised her hand as if she was going to touch her, but stopped herself.
“Soon.”
“Soon…”
“Do you want to go and see if Dammon finished?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s do it.” Karlach answered. She sounded nervous, shaky voice and strangled breathing. Octavia felt the excitement and the anxiety creeping in as well.
They went down the stairs and across the hall to the external area. Food was being cooked over the fire, crates were piled up as a makeshift table, were bottles and tankards rested. A casket of ale was put in a corner, and Alfira tuned her lute. Shadowheart winked at them, and Wyll seemed almost as excited as Karlach. Halsin druidcrafted little flowers to decorate the space, which was absolutely lovely. Lae’zel carried more crates so they could sit, Gale watched over the food, and Astarion selected wine bottles from their personal stash. He lifted an expensive-looking bottle towards Octavia and winked. Her heart pounded. They walked over to Dammon’s makeshift forge. A dark metal contraption was placed on his workbench. He smiled at them and picked it up.
“Same as last time. You’ll need to install it yourself. But this should do the trick.” He said, handing the piece to Karlach.
The barbarian took a deep sigh and got the piece from the blacksmith's hands. Octavia heard the many steps of their companions running over to watch the moment.
Karlach lift her hand to the big slit she had over her left breast, opening it. For a moment, Octavia could see the metal, cogs, and engines turning and hear the loud machinery noise her infernal heart made. Metallic, rhythmic, raspy. Karlach’s hand blocked her view as the barbarian installed the insulating chamber. The noise changed slightly. Her eyes closed in apparent relief. She closed her chest and opened her eyes.
“There… So… did it… Did work?”
“Only one way to find out.” Dammon answered kindly.
Octavia looked at her girl, hopeful. Karlach seemed fearful, as if she could not believe life had been so kind to her after fucking her over repeatedly over the last ten years. She took a step closer, towering over Octavia, but fearful to take the last step. Her scent invaded the drow’s nostrils. Spicy, metallic, smoky. Cinnamon, smoke, and metal. Her body instinctively leaned in and she threw her arms around Karlach’s neck. Hot. But not burning hot. Smooth warm skin. Scars. Metal vents. She loved every bit of her. Her heart ached, tears filled her eyes. Karlach’s mechanic heart beat against the drow’s chest. ‘ My love ’ she thought. She lifted her face, looking deeply into Karlach’s golden eyes, staring at them, happiness filling her entire self. She offered her lips. Karlach leaned in, and her engine made a buzzing sound against Octavia’s chest. Her golden eyes turned deep blue, and so did her glowing chest. Dammon chuckled in the back.
And finally…
Their lips touched.
Soft and wet, warm and velvety, lips slid against each other. Octavia pressed her body even more against Karlach’s feeling every bit, every curve against her skin. She hung onto her neck and deepened the kiss, letting her tongue freely taste her with no fear of burning, of cutting the moment short. And it was Glorious.
Karlach held her by the small of her back, pulling her close as the tongues danced frantically. Gale coughed in the back and the tiefling chuckled against Octavia’s lips. They separated, keeping their foreheads touching, looking into each other’s eyes.
“You’re all right,” She said, with teary eyes. “No burns!”
“Yes!” Octavia said, laughter of joy bubbling up her throat. “We’re all right! Gods!”
“Can we go to bed now?”
“Hey! I thought we had a party!” Shadowheart said pretending to be offended “We put a lot of work into it!”
Karlach looked back at Octavia, who was still laughing. She smiled at her girl and nodded.
“We do have a little party. And I want to dance with you. Properly this time.”
Karlach grinned.
“Fuck yes! Party it is!”