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Chapter Ten – Aftermath

She lay there, unmoving, her skin like wax against the curves of the pillows behind her head. Her hands were clasped on the sheets. Unbound and combed out, her hair mantled her shoulders.

Solaufein knotted his hands together and ignored the ache in his knees. He had been at her bedside for uncounted hours already, watching her pale skin as she slept as if dead. The elven healers were adamant that she was alive, and yes, a faint pulse did flutter like a trapped bird at her throat. But they said her skin was so cold, and her chest barely seemed to rise or fall, and nothing could stir her. She did not move, and he did not know whether she dreamed, or was lost in some other plane, or if her soul – so newly reclaimed - simply waited for its moment to depart.

He supposed he should have been sitting in the chair, or at the windowseat, or perhaps pacing as he had some short while ago. Instead, he knelt, his own hands locked together on the covers, and he watched her. More than once, he had wondered if he should try to wake her. But that would mean touching her, and she could not agree to such a thing if she was asleep, so he had not dared.

His shoulder ached, the circle of new scars beneath his shirt stitched and awaiting another healing from Jaheira.

He woke, breathing in air that was clean. He blinked rapidly, and saw the pale, elegant features of some male elf above him as he pulled back.

"He's awake."

"Good," came the reply, and he recognized Jaheira's firm tones. "Sit him up carefully. How is his shoulder?"

"Stitched, and with little bleeding." Cautiously, the elf slid an arm beneath his shoulders and guided him upright.

He made himself look around, saw white walls and open air beyond an open casement. He was half-naked, the sheets pooling at his waist, and someone had cleaned him and unraveled the ties in his hair.

"Solaufein." The bed dipped, and he saw Jaheira's fierce profile as she sat beside him. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not," she said, wryly. "You need rest, and sleep, like all of us."

He wanted to ask how Kera was, whether she was awake and breathing. He remembered the place that was Bhaal's, and how she had found him there.

"She's alive," Jaheira told him, almost immediately. "She's asleep, though. I've tried waking her, but…" She shrugged, helplessly. "Everyone else is alright."

The druid told him that the city was saved, emptied of enemies, and that the queen had called council in the palace, and declared them all heroes, and that they were to be welcomed and helped.

"You have free passage through the city," Jaheira said.

"I'm sure you'll forgive me if I do not test the queen's generosity."

One side of the woman's mouth slanted up. "Of course."

Solaufein stared down at his linked hands, his wrists hidden by the wide cuffs on the white shirt the elves had given him. The clothes felt strange, the cut of the shirt and the dark leggings beneath unusual. Pale thread wound across edges and cuffs and collar, and he could not quite stop plucking at the laces. The fabric smelled clean and new, and he knew he should probably be grateful, but his shoulders prickled.

He had been outside, more than once, in Valygar's company and then in Jaheira's, and he had noticed the way the elves had watched him. He could not blame them, and supposed he was lucky he had been allowed to keep his weapons, or indeed allowed to live outright.

This is not Ust Natha, he thought.

He dragged his gaze away, and up the rumpled spill of the white sheets, to Kera's laced fingers. Scarred and delicate, and rather small, he noted.

How strange it had been, he recalled, to stand in the dragon's cave, and see the spell wrenched aside.

They were surfacers, after all, and some strange anticipation ran through him. They had not lied, at least about this, and their allegiance with the dragon. There was a girl, skinny and coltish, and a woman with the slightly pointed ears of her peredhel ancestry. Two men, both of them tall and thick with muscle, and the carefully-held build of those who knew their way around weapons, and well. A tiefling, slender and wiry and with his beautiful face decorated with odd, sloping marks.

And Veldrin – Kera, he reminded himself, her name was Kera - close enough to his own height that he could look straight into her brown eyes.

"You weren't lying," he said, and smiled slightly.

"About?"

"Your eyes, your hair." He tipped his head to one side, studied her. Studied the lean shape beneath the leathers, the way her brown hair was twisted back into a single braid. "You weren't lying."

"No," she answered. "Did you think I was?"

"No." He shook his head. "No. I meant…forgive me."

The corners of her mouth curled up. "Of course."

She turned around then, and introduced her companions with names that rolled foreign and awkward off his tongue when he repeated them. The other girl was her sister, he understood, though they looked nothing alike.

He pushed up to his feet, ignored the twinge that ran all the way down the back of his legs. He quartered the room again, and twice more, until he found himself at the windowseat. He curled up on it, and stared down at the arching green branches below. The frame was open, and he could smell the rich, damp scents of the forest.

How curious, he thought, that the late arrival of strangers from Ched Nasad had turned into this.

"Commander Solaufein?"

He turned slowly, and found himself looking into the red eyes of a young-looking female, her face fierce beneath loose wisps of white hair. "You're the scouting party from Ched Nasad, yes?"

"Yes."

"You're late," he said, and did not bother to conceal the sneer in his voice. "As if I do not have enough to accomplish in a day without watching out for the welfare of fools."

Something flashed in her eyes, something very close to defiance. Not anger, and he wondered why.

"Then tell me what you would have me do," she said. "And stop wasting your own time."

He laughed, coldly. "You have a spine, then? Good. It may prove useful. Now, you need to listen to me."

And she had, he recalled, listened silently and well with her companions beside her, while he had told her that they must venture out, and past the caves, and past the high archway that lead to the beholder nest, and ambush Phaere's captors. There they had waited, and the ilithid and their umber hulk escorts had fallen.

Veldrin turned, her sword dripping, and one side of her face crusted with blood. "All of them?"

"Yes." He nodded back to her, and let himself look across the dark stone to where Phaere stood, her head tilted back and her beautiful red eyes narrowed.

"Solaufein," she said. "Matron Mother Ardulace thought to send you, did she?"

"She did."

"A pity. Who is your companion?"

"Veldrin, recently of Ched Nasad." He swallowed the strange, acrid taste in his mouth. "Veldrin, this is Phaere, daughter of Matron Mother Ardulace, and heir to House Despana."

"A foreigner?" Phaere smiled. "How very interesting."

Solaufein shook himself, and looked out through the casement, to where the wind ruffled the leaves. The trees moved too much, he thought, almost distracting in the way they rippled. He supposed that must be why raiding parties were almost always sent on nights when the moon sank behind the clouds and the wind was still.

Beneath the far-off cries of some bird that he could not name, he heard the blankets rustle. He turned, and could not quite hide his smile when he saw her eyes open, brown and drowsy. "Kera?" he asked gently.

Her head turned, and she blinked slowly. "Solaufein? I didn't see you."

"I did not want to startle you." He slid off the windowseat and approached the bed. "You've been asleep a long time."

"How long?"

"Nearly three days."

"Oh. Do I look as awful as I feel?"

"How do you feel?"

"Dreadful," she said. "Like I want to die."

"You look…very tired."

"How very diplomatic," she said, and smiled.

"It's true."

She levered herself upright on the pillows and grimaced. "Three days?"

"Yes. Do you remember it?"

"I remember Irenicus falling." Her head came up sharply. "Your shoulder?"

"Is fine," he answered mildly. "Stitched and healed. Though your friend Jaheira has threatened to have yet another look at it today."

Kera grinned. "I'd let her, if I were you."

"I intend to."

Silence fell, and he found himself staring down at some point between his boots. The floor was polished wood, and he could hear the wind at the open casement.

"Solaufein?"

"Yes?"

"Stop hovering." She leaned forward, patted the sheets. "Sit down."

He obeyed cautiously, staying a respectful distance from her and keeping both hands in plain view. "What else do you remember?"

"I remember how the water at the gates tasted," she said quietly. "Very cold and full of salt."

"The gates with the jewels."

"Yes."

He hesitated a moment longer, and asked, "Has anything…had you been there before?"

"No," she said. Her hands twisted together on the sheets, thin and pale. "At least, I don't think so. I've had strange dreams before, and when Irenicus took my soul, I went somewhere, but it wasn't there."

He nodded. "I did not mean to…"

"No," she said quickly. "I know." She slumped back against the pillows again. "How is it I can sleep for so long and still be tired?"

"I think you've been running for a long time," he said.

She smiled, a tiny movement at the corners of her mouth. "I think you're right."

"May I ask you something?"

"Of course you can. You're also not allowed to ask that again."

He stopped, ran her words through his head again, and laughed. "Should we come to some agreement?"

"I think we should."

"As you would have it, then. I wanted to ask how Irenicus captured you and your friends."

"It was a long time ago. We'd left Baldur's Gate, and we didn't know where we wanted to go." Her smile turned strange and sad. "We'd been travelling for some weeks, the six of us, and we were ambushed. It was quick and quiet, and to this day all I remember is walking past a tree and feeling someone's arm go around my neck. They knew what to do, whoever they were. Four of us made it out, and I still don't know how long we were there, in that dungeon with him."

"Four of you?"

"Minsc's witch, Dynaheir, was with us then. Irenicus killed her in front of me." She shrugged, and he saw her gaze flicking away. "Jaheira's husband Khalid was with us as well. He was killed."

"Kera."

"It's alright," she said. She tipped her head back, and her eyes closed, and it made her skin look like wet paper, fragile and exhausted. "Would you mind very much if I went back to sleep?"

"No, not at all. I'll leave you alone."

"No, I didn't mean…" She shook her head. She reached out, and her fingers brushed the back of his hand. "Would you stay? Please?"

Whatever he wanted to say dried up in his throat. "Yes," he answered. "Of course I'll stay."

She turned over, burrowed half under the covers, and he heard her sigh. Her breathing steadied, and he wondered what she dreamed, or if she saw only the patient, welcome darkness of peaceful sleep.

He remembered the terrible place that was Bhaal's, and how he stood beside her at the door. And how she had gazed at it, and even when Jaheira called her name twice, three times, she had not stirred.

"She can't hear me." Jaheira's voice wavered. "She can't…Solaufein."

He spun around. "What?"

"Talk to her."

"What?"

"Talk to her," the woman said again. "She can't hear me. We need to get through that door. Talk to her, and make her hear you."

He reached out for Kera's shoulder, changed his mind, and leaned in instead, close enough that he could smell the blood that clung to her hair, and the sweat and desperation beneath. "Kera. Kera, can you hear me?"

When she woke again, she saw late afternoon sunlight, and Solaufein, sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, and fixedly staring at his own wrists. "You stayed," she said.

His fingers played across his cuff laces again, flicking and twisting the ends. "You asked me to."

"What are you doing?"

"I am trying to understand what it is that I find so unusual about these." He tugged the laces sharply. "They feel strange."

"Because they were made by elves?"

"Probably." He smiled then, and shrugged. "After everything, it seems a foolish thing to notice."

"Perhaps," she said mildly. "Are you alright?"

"About being here?" When she nodded, he said, "I must admit it feels unsettling. I am a drow, and I am sitting here in an elven city, and I know that I have been part of raiding parties sent against the elves who live here. But I have been given surety that I am to be looked at as the same as any of your companions, and then I remember that you survived Ust Natha, and it seems rather weak of me."

"No," she said. "It's not."

She sat up, and realised that the insistent, dull ache in her back had vanished. She breathed in slowly, and let herself smile. She watched as he knotted and loosened the laces again, his fingers agile and fast. A knock at the door scattered her thoughts, and she muttered, "Come in."

An elf stepped over the threshold, inclined his head. "Forgive me for disturbing you, my lady."

She shook her head a little awkwardly. "No, not at all. What is it?"

"Queen Ellesime requests an audience, if you feel up to it. If not, I am sure the queen will understand."

"No, that's alright. Please tell the queen I will be there shortly."

The elf's gaze flitted across to the drow before he bowed again. "I will escort you when you are ready, then."

The door closed, and Kera sighed. "Well. I suppose I should see what her Majesty wants."

"To express her gratitude, I imagine," Solaufein remarked. "As well she should. I will leave you to get dressed, then."

"Solaufein? Thank you for staying."

"You are welcome." He paused near the door, and a small smile played across his mouth. "I do not think I have ever seen your hair down before."

Before she could think up a suitable reply, he slipped through the door and left her alone. Silently, she chided herself for being foolish, and kicked the sheets aside. The long white nightdress brushed the cool floor. In the chest near the windowseat, she discovered clean clothes, and slowly pulled them on. Her own sword and belt she found close to the door, and she buckled them on. In the high, arched corridor outside, the elf waited for her. He nodded to her, and said, "Please, this way."

She followed him through the twisting, empty passageways. The wind from the forest stirred through high, open windows. Instead of choosing the way to the throne room, the elf led her up a wide set of steps, swirling and pale, and to the queen's chambers. He motioned her past the guards, and on, under the last archway.

Ellesime sat at the windowseat, her rich green gown a cry of colour against the white stone. She turned, and smiled. "Ah. There you are. Please, come in. Sit down."

"Thank you." She obeyed, sat opposite, curling herself on a cushion. She was aware of the male elf retreating, and the sunlight flooding onto the floor, and the queen's green eyes.

"How are you?"

"Better," she answered. "Thank you for your hospitality, your Majesty."

Ellesime laughed gently. "It seems a poor reward for the salvation of my city. Your name is Kera, yes?"

"Yes."

"Then please accept my most heartfelt thanks for your part in this."

Anger jolted through her, and she tried to force it away. "You are most welcome, your Majesty."

"Please, no need for such formality." Ellesime lifted an elegant, ringed hand. "Wine?"

"Thank you."

"I must ask you, though…" Pale wine poured from the neck of a decanter. "Why was it you were chosen?"

"By Irenicus, you mean?" Kera said. She saw the queen's expression flicker, barely, a small tightening around her eyes. "I suspect you know. My sister and I were chosen by him and his sister because we share a rather unfortunate heritage."

Ellesime passed a filled glass across. "You are Bhaalspawn, are you not?"

"That's right."

"Chosen for your power," she mused. "Or something else?"

"Chosen because our souls would keep them strong and alive," she said. She gazed down into the wine for a long moment. "What was he doing at the Tree?"

"Trying to drain it," Ellesime whispered. "Trying to drive its power into himself. Trying to take its life into himself, so that he might join the Seldarine."

"What…?" Kera froze. "I never…how could he attempt such a thing?"

"Ask instead how he could attempt such a thing twice."

"That was why he was exiled?"

"Yes," she answered, close to a whisper. "Yes. He sought to take the power of the Tree into himself once, a long time ago. He was caught and he was stopped, and his punishment was that his soul was carved from his body, and everything elven was taken from him."

"And then you set him free, him and Bodhi," Kera snapped. "Set them free without souls, and a new purpose for revenge."

"Yes." Ellesime's head lifted. "Yes, I did. I could not do otherwise."

Kera wrapped her hands around the stem of the glass until her knuckles whitened. "What was Bodhi like?" she asked to distract herself.

"She was much like him. Beautiful and clever. Daring. He was the stronger, and she was the bolder."

"You're saying she pushed him to it."

Those green eyes flared with something close to anger. "And if she did?"

"Then it makes him no less to blame for what he chose to do afterwards."

"Perhaps."

"I'm sorry," Kera said haltingly. "I had thought for so long that the man who took my soul did so only for his own purpose, not because of revenge for something that was done to him. I do not mean…"

"No," Ellesime replied, as quietly. "There is much to think on. I know this. For now, would you do me the honour of joining me here in the palace, perhaps two nights from now?"

"You want to celebrate this?"

"Listen to me," Ellesime murmured. "Too many of my people have suffered, either in the drow city beneath us, or at Joneleth's hands, here. They know that they were saved, yet they do not know who their saviour is. Please. Do me this honour."

She wanted to snarl back at the woman that she did not want to, could not in fact. She had come here seeking her soul, and not to play hero for elves who had preferred to turn an enemy's hatred towards the world outside their hidden city. You have nowhere else to go, she thought. Not yet. You're tired. Exhausted. Two nights, and you can be paraded in front of them, beg some supplies, and then perhaps leave.

"Very well," she said. "In two nights, your Majesty."

Ellesime smiled, and it did not touch her eyes at all. "Thank you."

After excusing herself from the queen's presence, Kera stalked back down the white corridors, hands hooked in her belt and her head down. She strode around another corner, and flinched when she ploughed into Imoen.

"Hey," her sister said mildly. "You go blind when you got your soul back?"

Kera snorted. "Sorry. I just saw her Majesty."

"The queen herself?" Imoen's eyebrows rose. "What did she want?"

"To graciously thank us for saving her hide, and to invite us to a banquet."

"Really?" Imoen looked at her for a long moment. "You look like you want to kill something."

"I'm fine."

"You're not." Quite firmly, her sister tugged at her sleeve until she moved. "Come with me."

She surrendered, and followed Imoen to her room, and even allowed herself to be pushed down onto the windowseat. Imoen hopped up beside her, took a deep breath, and asked, "So does it feel more like being you?"

"Yes," she answered honestly. "It's…I can't believe it was so long without it."

"Yes."

"Imoen?"

"Yes?"

"When did you wake up?"

"About a day and a half before you." Imoen grinned, but it faded quickly. "Did you dream?"

"No."

"That's probably a good thing." Imoen wound her arms around her knees and sighed. "Does it feel strange to you?"

"Strange?"

"That it's all over."

We're Bhaalspawn, she thought, and it rose bitterly in her mind. It's never over, not really. She summoned a smile for her sister, and said, "Yes, it does."