Disclaimer: I don't own Neverwinter Nights or anything else mentioned, except for Eleniel.
This isn't a songfic, but it wanted to be. I suggest listening to Already Gone by Crossfade for this one. Yes, my title is taken from that. It seemed to fit. Probably because I was listening to it over and over while writing this.
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Eleniel smiled softly as she stroked the crimson hair of the tiefling lying next to her. He was still asleep, a content look on his face. A single tear rolled down her face as Eleniel rested her head on Valen's bare chest, probably for the last time. She didn't want to do this; she didn't want to leave, but the elf knew in her heart that she would die if she stayed. She would just waste away in the Underdark and become a shell of herself.
Valen insisted on not leaving the Seer, insisted on helping her rebuild. Eleniel was aware that it was just a front. If anything, Valen needed the Seer. Eleniel breathed deeply, enjoying the tiefling's cinnamon smell. Gently brushing a tear away, she slid out of bed, being careful not to disturb Valen. Eleniel dressed quickly and silently, and headed to the door. Her hand resting on the handle, she looked back at Valen's sleeping form. She briefly considered leaving a note, then turned and left. Eleniel knew if she stayed a moment more, she would slip back into bed and nothing would change.
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Valen sat at a tavern in Lith My'athar, intent on forgetting. In truth, he hadn't even realized Eleniel was gone at first. He had assumed that she'd risen before him and had gone for a walk. When no one could remember seeing her, he still wasn't worried. She was a shadowdancer, it would be easy for anyone to miss her. He'd realized that something was wrong when she hadn't shown up by the end of what passed for day in the Underdark.
Looking for answers and beginning to panic, he went to the Seer. He closed his eyes in pain, remembering what the Seer had told him. Eleniel had left early, only telling the Seer that she couldn't remain in the Underdark. Said it was smothering her. Valen desperately wished that Eleniel would've told him. He knew that even if she had, he wouldn't have listened. All of their conversations might as well have been silence. They had talked, but said nothing. Valen smiled bitterly, as he realized that Eleniel had left a long time ago. He paid the bartender, and left.
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Eleniel stood at the outskirts of Waterdeep, listlessly looking at the sky. She was out of Lith My'athar, like she wanted. This should have been a happy moment. She should have been admiring the blue of the sky, the green of the grass. It was the same as always, and yet the colors were muted. The calls of vendors rang distantly in her ears, and Eleniel almost turned to leave for the Underdark. She halted her traitorous feet, and stopped stubbornly. She wouldn't go back there. She couldn't. Eleniel walked quickly, heading anywhere but the Underdark. Going back would mean giving up what she was fighting for. She lifted her chin, and strode onward down the road. She had to be strong.
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Valen furiously swung his flail at the practice dummy, but no satisfaction came when he heard the crack of steel breaking. He had stood for what seemed like hours at an entrance to the surface world, before turning and coming back to Lith My'athar. He was angry at himself, but just as angry at her. How could she have been so heartless? How could she have left, not even bothering to leave a note? Valen smashed the flail again into the dummy, stopping only when it broke completely. He turned and left, a glare set in his blue eyes.
Valen sat on the bed, arms resting on his knees and his head hanging down. He gazed at a small portrait of Eleniel that he was cradling carefully in his hands. The artist had rendered her perfectly. The elf's black hair was thrown messily over one shoulder, her green eyes sparkling with laughter at some unknown joke. Valen stared at it, his eyes glazed over. Looking at the portrait had hurt in the beginning, but he'd slowly ceased to feel the pain. Valen crumpled the picture and threw it into the fireplace in a sudden burst of anger. Tears slipped down his face, but he quickly brushed them off. Composing himself, he strode to the door.