He is living in kaleidoscope-time, all turning pieces and broken glass. He'll find the picture later.
Originally written for Lyviel, in the Yuletide fic exchange.
888
Hands are on him in the dark.
Khalid wrenches away, as far as his bonds will allow. (He has never been very brave; he doesn't think he can stand much more.) Over the harshness of his breathing words come to him - "Heya, it's me, Imoen. Wish that were more comforting. Cuttin' the left tie now, an' the blindfold..."
As soon as he's free he tumbles off the table and backs up until his back hits a corner, of a cold stone wall slimy with mildew. All the lights have gone out. He blinks his eyes into the other vision and sees the heat pattern of a young woman, arms up and reaching for him in the dark. She flinches back, and he takes her wrist with his good hand, holds her palm to his cheek.
"Um, right," she says uncertainly. "So this place is being invaded by fellas in black. They don't look too friendly. All a bit of a mess. I reckon we can cut chain while... he's... distracted. Right?"
He nods against her hand. Somewhere outside the room is the muffled thoom of a distant explosion.
"I picked up some stuff. Lockpicks and potions. Missed a lot I know; my head is hurtin'. But I reckon we can sneak around some, find the others, then breathe th' sunlight an' drink air like wine... Tell me you understand."
He nods again.
"Tell me."
He ruffles her hair with his good hand and tweaks her ear.
"I am so sorry for what happened, all of it. I - Ow! What was that for, Khalid? When folk reckon you're the nice one they lie."
He laughs softly in his throat, and ruffles her hair again. He doesn't truly think they will make it out of here - they are too few and too broken and their enemies are great. Some battles have always been doomed to failure. But there's nothing to do but try, so they'll do that.
He gets Imoen to pull on his fingers as he drinks a gelid healing potion, so that the bones heal straight, and gags a little as the cold magic trickles through his body collecting in the broken places. He blinks and -
- he's in a great space of creaking sails and moving winds, fighting off squalling air mephits while Imoen dickers with one of the Old People of Calimshan, a creature as trapped as themselves - blink - he's in a hall lined with smoking torches grappling with a man in the equipage of an Athkatlan Shadow Thief; he clamps his white-knuckled hand over the man's mouth so he won't make a sound and alert his fellows, holds him through the shuddering of his dying - blink - in the waters of the pool a city of brass is built in a desert and grows and dies - blink - he is living in kaleidoscope-time, all turning pieces and broken glass. He'll have to find the picture later.
He can find his wife nowhere.
They fetch up in a library for the second? third time? and Imoen collapses on his shoulder, crying messily. They've been travelling in circles - Imoen has a kaleidoscope in her head as well, he thinks, and they are both too tired to steer straightly... he burrows a shelter for them in a drift of scattered books, for warmth and hiding.
He wants to tell the girl that shivering is a good thing, or at least less bad, because it means their bodies haven't given up yet. He wants to tell her that chains and magic and hurting can break any heart, but the pieces will still be there, after, to be stitched back together. He wants to tell her that everything will be all right. But he cannot: the words are drowning in his chest.
So he rubs his hand down her back, over and over, and in time black sleep finds them both.
Notes:
He blinks his eyes into the other vision - The Forgotton Realms setting has different versions of Half-Elf sight depending on tabletop setting or BG. (Why yes, yes I did spend an hour researching this specifically... :-) ) Khalid canonically has Infravision.