Grace

AN: So I found this old one-shot on my ancient desktop when I was trying to salvage some old files. I was just going to delete it but after reading it I remembered my fondness for the Xan mod by Kulyok. I have this strange tick that makes me write down scenes that I like into story format; thus this was formed. I think. It's been awhile. The flashback scenes are actual scenes from BG1 Xan romance mod pretty much word for word. So here it is if anyone has a minor Xan obsession like I do. (I also have a love of Haer'Dalis that I can't quiet explain.)

Also, please forgive any mistakes. I'm not proof reading this.

It was hard for her to remember her name. Her mind oftentimes felt bruised and her memory seemed to be a patchwork of dark spots and she knew it wasn't right, that there were things, important things, that she should never be able to forget. But pinning them down seem to be an impossible task as they slipped through her fingers like water. Sometimes when she was left alone in her cage she would remember fragments, conversations she must have had, people she knew she knew but could not place. A elf was sitting next to her in front of a small campfire and she knew that others were clustered around the campsite, though she could not see them. He was staring at her intently and there was a tenderness in his dark eyes, "Caoimbe, you remind me of the Rom woman who tried to tell my fortune many years ago. She said I would pour poison into my goblet and drink it laughing, for I would love Murder above all else." His hand ghosted over her hair and she leaned into the caress, seeking contact and comfort. He sighed and wrapped an arm around her and she turned her nose into the hollow of his throat while he rested his chin on the crown of her head. "It is good to know she was...wrong."

The memory fragments that would blindside her in her rare moments of clarity and relative peace featured him most of the time. Other times it was a human girl with red hair so pale it was a strange shade of pink, a stern faced blonde half-elven woman, a red haired half-elven man, and many others who she couldn't hold onto long enough to remember their faces. Sometimes she would swear she could feel another. Worry, anxiety, a frantic fear, and impatience would thrum through her chest and she knew it was important, that it meant something but she just couldn't remember. During the long hours she spent strapped to a table or hanging chained from the ceiling being cut, burned, frozen, crushed, and beat; long after she had screamed herself hoarse and there was nothing left but the agony of her broken body she wrapped herself in the meager scraps of her memories and hid the deepest part of herself there. Other times when her jailer would reach icy tendrils of magic into her mind some part of her would almost seem like it was curling around that sense of other in her chest and memories of her...companions? Friends?

The half-elven woman was standing in front of her, one tanned hand braced on her hip. "As a friend, I wish to know: are you happy?" She felt her mouth stretch into a wide smile which was echoed by the woman across from her. "I see. Thank you for being honest Caoimbe."

It was confusing and sometimes it seemed like she couldn't hold herself together, that she would be swept under and shattered. She was already partially broken, the man with the sharp blue eyes had dug his magic into her mind and cracked it open like a walnut. Very little was hidden from him and most had been ripped away though by what she couldn't really recall. Only pain, rage, and at the worse of it a longing for death. But she knew what she was even if she couldn't fully recall who. She was Bhaalspawn and her name was Caoimbe.

It was the elf again. He was standing in a dim room of grey stone with no windows, the only light was a torch set in a scone on the wall. He dark hair was disheveled and the skin around his eyes were tight, his mouth set in a grim line. "'The spawn of the Lord of Murder are fated to come into their inheritance through bloodshed and misery. It is the hope of their father that only one shall remain alive to inherit his legacy. I foresee that the children of Bhaal shall kill each other in a bloody massacre.' A very eloquent description don't you think? 'Chaos shall be sown through their passage.' I borrowed the book from the library, seeing as the doppelgangers would not need it. So, what is your choice? Would you prefer killing your siblings or simply bringing death and destruction to the land?"

"Stop it. Now." Her own voice answered back tightly as she felt shame and guilt well up her chest.

He grimaced and looked down at the floor. He was silent for a moment before lifting his eyes back to her own, "Forgive me. That was banal and shameful hysteria, it will not happen again."

Anger flashed through her and she saw his eyes widen slightly. "You don't understand how it feels do you? I'm a Bhaalspawn! A monster!" She shoved him roughly away from her. "I'm an abomination! What are you even doing here?" She spun away from him and wrapped her arms around her abdomen. She felt tears prickle her eyes and she sucked in a shuddering breath.

Warm hands closed on her shoulders and gently turned her around. "Caoimbe, Caoimbe." His voice was soothing but she stubbornly kept her eyes adverted even as his hands smoothed up to her neck to cradle her head, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. "Beautiful, calm down. It will be alright," Her eyes flicked up to meet his and he frowned, "No, it won't but I won't have you thinking otherwise." His forehead touched hers and he exhaled, "For the moment, anyway. Here-I won't allow your sire's shadow to fill your mind. You are here," He gently kissed the corner of her right eye and then her left, "with me.

She shuddered and relaxed into him , her fingers clenching into his robes. "I-"

His arms tightened, "No, it matters not what you are going to say. I would not abandon you if you were a daughter of Lloth herself, and you will not push me away, as I had tried to do." He stroked down the length of her braided hair. "We must find our way out of this dismal crypt. Let us continue Estel'amin.

Estel'amin. The was important. She frowned and tipped her head back against the bars. She knew...she knew it was something special. The name, the elf-they had been lovers she thinks-the elf who's name she couldn't remember. Caoimbe stared down at her hands and wondered with a detached curiosity what he would think of her now; her nails were jagged and broken, some nails were missing entirely and a few of her fingers were crooked from healing badly. She wondered if they would grow back or if she'd have to buy gloves. Or she could finally die, then she would need worry about vanity. It was a strangely appealing thought. She had no mirror but everywhere she could see was layered in grime and blood and her bones protruded through her skin and she knew she was dangerously underweight. She could see her hair and it's weight lay heavy on her back, it was lank and her scalp itched and she longed for a bucket of water to scrub the sweat and dirt out of her once soft and shining hair (she freely admitted she was a little vain when it came to her hair). Would the elf who's-name-she-couldn't-remember still want her if he saw her? Starved, covered in filth, with only a rag to clothe herself, and so very broken.

Estel'amin, she turned the word over in her mind. Estel, hope. My hope? She closed her eyes and dove into herself searching for why someone would her call her that.

He was staring at her. With a sigh she set down her ale and rested her chin on her interlaced hands and quirked her brow at him. The inn room was quiet and dim and they sat together at a small table in her room, his spellbook was forgotten at his elbow. "May I ask you your name?" his voice was soft and slightly uncertain.

She blinked and cocked her head to the side, "Er, Caoimbe?"

His lips twitched, "That's not what I meant though I never get tired of saying Caoimbe. There is a deeper mystery you carry within yourself."

"Why does everyone always say things like that to me?" she complained.

He rolled his eyes and continued, "When an elf is born, he is given a secret name that is only known to parents and, later in life, to those closest to him. I thought that you might not have one, being raised among the N'Tel'Quess."

She scratched absently at her cheek and shifted through her memories of Candlekeep. "No, I don't have one. Gorion had always called me Caoimbe."

He leaned forward and his dark eyes seemed to pin her to her chair. "I have a secret to tell you."

"I love a good secret," she replied lightly as she leaned back in her chair.

"Hush." He paused and his voice was quiet when he continued, "You will probably think me foolish but in my heart I have called Estel, which in High Elven means 'hope'. If," his jaw clenched, "if you wish, I will make a gift of it. So you can take it as your true name."

She stared at him silently and he returned her gaze solemnly, his shoulders tight beneath the bulk of his robe. With a breathless laugh she stood and rounded the table to stand over him and he shifted toward her and she settled onto his lap, draped her arms over his shoulders and ran her hand through the fall of his hair. She grinned at his startled jump and felt his hands tentatively rest on her hips. "Thank you," she breathed into his ear before placing a tender kiss at the corner of his mouth, "It's a wonderful gift."

She felt the tension drain out of his muscles and his hands tightened on her hips, "Allow me to say the Chant of Naming and the name will become attached to you," his hand left her hip to caress her cheek and he ran his thumb over her smiling mouth, "rather like my heart." Just for being sweet she kissed his thumb before darting down to kiss the tip of his nose before straightening and grinning down at him. He shook his head and his hands slipped into her hair and over her ears. She shivered and allowed him to tip her head down to rest her forehead against his.

"Thou art the lodestar between dark clouds,
Thou art the wind filling the lifeless sails,
Thou art the last thing a man would let go of,
Thou art the only treasure I wish to possess.
Estel of the swords,
Estel of the songs,
Estel of the stars,
Estel of calmness,
Estel'amin...my hope."

She gulped, his fingers were still moving along her ears and she felt a little dazed. "You-" she cleared her throat, "you cheated."

"Oh?" She swore she could hear a smile in his voice but she couldn't be bothered to open her eyes.

"Hm," she hummed. "You know what that does to me. And that doesn't sound like something you say when giving a child their secret name."

"It's a personal chant. Each is different." He shrugged, his fingers still pressing into sensitive skin around her ear before tracing back up in repetitive motions.

"I like yours," she said with a gasp. "Xan-"

"Estel'amin," he murmured as he pressed his lips to hers.

Caoimbe's eyes snapped open. Xan. His name was Xan. They were Bonded in the way of the elves. Her breathes were coming in short, fast pants and she pressed her hand to her chest over her heart. It was him she would feel and it was their Bond part of her consciousness would curl around during her torture sessions. But where was he? Why would he leave her here to die? Was he here too? Fear welled up in her chest and she reached. Where was he? A sense of startled surprise, followed closely but urgent concern and a helpless, directionless anger. Xan. She blasted her fear, pain, and despair through the Bond. Find me. Help me. She could feel his flinch and could sense the pain echoing through him that sent him stumbling. Regret welled up and spilled into the bond. Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry. She gathered all the tender feelings she could from the fragments she remembered and tried to funnel it to him. I'm sorry, I love you. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the welling of tears when warmth bloom in her chest. She wondered if she'd forget him again when Blue Eyes came for her. She flinched when metal screeched against stone as a heavy metal door was opened and light spilled across her cage. Blue Eyes observed her from the doorway and she shivered and pressed herself back against the cage as terror crawled up her spine.

"Ah, your awake. It's time for more tests Child of Bhaal." He voice was cold and her heartbeat picked up and she felt concern and fear through the Bond and her breath caught. What would Blue Eyes do if he knew of the Bond? Her heart sat like lead in her chest, she didn't want to let go, she wanted to crawl into him through the Bond and hide there while Blue Eyes preformed his 'tests' on her. Slowly she imagined her fist squeezing the Bond until hopefully nothing leaked through. She would try to spare him what came next. Faintly she felt a spurt of surprise and then denial as she constricted the bond. Her eyes were wide and terrified as she stared up at her captor. "Come," He said and reached into her cage and dragged her out onto the cold stone floor. She knew what was coming and she clung to her new found memories and hoped she wouldn't forget again.