Their escape was tense, smelly, and rather disgusting at times. Exiting any building via its sewage system would be disgusting no matter; Blackrock Prison being the most vile collection of stones standing in Faerûn only added insult to injury. After they'd disposed of the guard, however, their escape was uneventful. Raewyn had stashed a small Mirabarran trader's wagon and matching clothing in a dense patch of woods not far from the prison, which they reached without incident.
From there, they skirted the suburbs of Luskan and headed for some of the less travelled roads leading south towards Neverwinter. Raewyn had stocked plenty of water in the wagon, and Casavir was quick to indulge in a hasty bath. They dressed in the rather garish clothing she had brought. Traders from Mirabar were known for their colorful attire. Casavir was attired in a deep blue doublet trimmed with red, and scarlet trews, this being the most somber outfit she was able to procure. Raewyn thought the blue at least suited him, but refrained from saying so. She herself had a long full skirt of green and a red bodice trimmed with yellow.
Taking pains to establish their identity as traders, they stopped at a few towns along the way to rest, resupply, and listen for news of an escape. As it happened, no one had heard anything about an escaped prisoner, or a Neverwinter agent sneaking about Luskan. They even earned a few coppers from the wares Raewyn with which had stocked the trader's wagon.
After the first few uneasy days in the shadow of Luskan, they began to relax, and while they didn't speak of the war, or Casavir's imprisonment, they started to enjoy the trip. It was unusual for both of them to be traveling without a pressing cause, without any military or political concerns. They set an easy pace, and lived in the moment. They went long silent hours on the road just enjoying each other's company and the lushness of the land, and when they spoke, it was of small things.
The nights though, were different. Casavir was haunted by nightmares, and after his cries of terror awoke several other travelers in one of the inns at which they had stopped, more often than not they slept in the open. The mild nights of early summer made doing so no hardship, and Casavir seemed to sleep a little easier under the sky. Some nights Raewyn would curl herself beside him as she had in the weeks before the battle, and he would lie much of the night just holding her close and watching her sleep by the light of the stars. Others, he would toss and turn, muttering, cursing, and shouting in his inner torment, and Raewyn would cradle his head on her breast or in her lap, murmuring softly to him, smoothing his brow, and chasing away the demons which ravaged his dreams as best she could.
Still, with every day, it seemed they both healed. Once safely clear of Luskan's borders, Raewyn had sent a message ahead to Sir Nevalle that she had succeeded and they were on the way home. But both knew their return would mean changes and duties and responsibilities however, so neither was in a hurry to return to Crossroad Keep.
At one small town they entered, they found they had arrived just in time for a local faire. Given the numbers of people camping all around, they chose to find lodging at the inn. After stowing their wagon, they wandered the town green watching the dancers, sharing some of the local delicacies, and enjoying the festive atmosphere. Raewyn was happy to see Casavir relaxed as she had rarely seen him, but she could see the shadow that still lingered behind his eyes.
"This is why we do it, isn't it?"
He looked a her quizzically. "My lady?"
"Why we serve Neverwinter, what we fight for. It isn't the Castle, or the Council, or the Lords. We do it so…." She looked around pointing to the villagers as she spoke. "We do it so that young girl there can steal a kiss from the blacksmith's son. We do it so those little boys can play knights and bandits, and hopefully never know what it's really like to fell a man with a blade. We do it so she can weave, and he can play the pipes at the faire."
She turned to him, willing him to see as she did in that moment: all the simple truths of life, from the ribbons swirling in the breeze to the flutter of notes from lute and pipe, all gilded by the late afternoon sun. She took his hands and smiled at him. "This is the heart and soul of the land, any land. This is what Neverwinter is, it's the smell of those pies, the clatter of that spinning wheel, the couples dancing…."
He followed her gaze around the village, and he could almost see it, the shadows that haunted him receding to the very farthest corners of his mind; not gone, but distant. When she took his hands, his heart swelled. She filled him with an aching longing he didn't know how to express. He loved her, he thought perhaps he always had, even before she'd appeared to raise him from his self-imposed exile at Old Owl Well.
While he'd been in Blackrock, he'd recalled and relived every tender moment they shared, even the distant yearning looks from their earliest days together. But he'd never imagined being with her again; to look for a future from within Blackrock was a torment his soul could not bear. Yet now, against all reason, here he was, free and at Raewyn's side once more. And he wanted more than anything to step into the light she offered, yet chains of darkness seemed to hold him back. He wanted her, her love, her smile….
While he'd been lost in thought, Raewyn had watched the struggle play over his features. She knew the road home from Blackrock would take more than the miles beneath their feet, and she was determined to bring him home, whole and hers.
On impulse, she grabbed his hand and drew him toward the square where the villagers were dancing a merry reel, and pulled him into the swirl of skirts and scarves. Casavir was too surprised to have the time to protest before they found themselves in the midst of the dancers, and one look at Raewyn's laughing eyes stopped his sour objections in his throat. He was powerless to resist her, not when she was laughing and carefree, radiant with her love for him. He was dazzled by her. For today, at least, he could believe in hope.
Around they whirled, until the last 'huzzah' of the tune left them standing face to face, arms interlocked, mere inches between them. Raewyn's face glowed and her breath came quick from the exertion of the dance, reminding Casavir of their last dance, so very long ago. They froze, eyes locked, before Raewyn kissed him, softly, quickly, a question and a promise. Casavir let himself drown in her gaze, feeling dizzy from the spinning, from her nearness, from the very strangeness of feeling so lighthearted. She took his hand and whispered in his ear "Let's go, Casavir." As if in a dream, he followed as she led him back to the inn. As they half-walked half-ran, they looked at each other more than where they were going, and Raewyn was giggling by the time they made it back to the small room they shared.
The moment they entered, Raewyn closed the door behind them. She stood before him, gazing up at him with longing in her eyes. After a moment she raised herself up on tiptoe and kissed him. He froze a moment, then his arms tightened around her and he returned her kiss with passion that left her breathless. He clutched her to him like a lifeline, the only thing holding him from the abyss. His hands roved over her back, pulling her to him as he plundered her mouth with his own. She whimpered softly, tangling her fingers in his hair; after so long, she was desperate to get closer to him. His hand slipped up under her shirt, stroking the skin of her back, his feather touches sending shockwaves through her body. His lips left hers and traveled to her earlobe, his breath in her ear making her shiver with delight. He continued to place soft open mouthed kisses down the side of her neck while his hands moved further up her back before sliding around her side. When his caresses reached the curve of her breast she gasped out his name before pulling his mouth back to hers for another searing kiss.
He pulled back suddenly, and she stared at him, breathless, molten desire in her eyes. She moved to kiss him again and he pulled away. He remembered all that he had struggled with, all the horrors of Blackrock flooding his mind. He broke away from her, and with a muttered apology he fled, leaving her alone.
She watched him go with sorrow, but little surprise. She knew he had never become fully at ease with the powerful desire they shared, still mistrustful of his less rational, more passionate side. It was that deep internal conflict that had kept the paladin from her for so long during the time leading up the the defeat of the Shadow King. And while they had not yet spoken of his time in Blackrock, she could surmise from his words when she first found him that the experiences had played upon his deepest fears and regrets. She had known for a long time that she loved him, and waited almost as long to have him back at her side, whole and free. She could wait a little longer.
It was three days after the faire that they topped the rise a few miles from Crossroad Keep. It was late, and they were yet beyond the range of Raewyn's own patrols, so they chose to sleep one last night under the stars. They hadn't spoken about the faire, or of Blackrock, but Raewyn sensed Casavir wanted to talk about something.
"My lady," he began, "I am sorry for my behavior at the faire. It was unseemly of me."
She waited, not entirely sure if he was referring to their passion, or his flight from it.
"And while I could never regret the...gift you gave me in the days before…." he broke off, and she nodded her understanding and for him to continue.
"I think it would be better if we did not… if such a thing did not…. if our relationship remained... To remain at your side means more to me than anything, and I do not wish to compromise that in any way. I am not worthy of you in the least, but as long as my arm will hold a weapon and my legs shall carry me, I will serve you as best I can, so long as you will allow me. But I would rather return to that cell than...fail you...in my...weakness." He stared into the fire miserably, refusing to meet her eyes. After a moment he added, "My heart is yours, and always has been, but…I can't..."
"Casavir, nothing must be decided this night. There is, as far as I know, no pressing cause we must leap to answer, you are not yet fully recovered…" she held up a hand to forestal his objection "...and you will not be serving at all until you are. I will doubtless be buried in things to attend to after my absence…."
He looked at her, unsure what she was getting at. Uncertainty was written across his handsome features. "My lady?"
"I am saying that there is time, Casavir. We need not inscribe the way our future must run this very moment. There is time to rest, time to heal, time to see what may yet become between you and I. You have just come from a long, dark journey. Let your eyes adjust to the light. Leave it be what it is for now, and just be by my side. Only…." she hesitated.
"Only what, my lady?"
"Just please do not close your mind to anything, do not discard feelings because you do not yet know quite how to live with them. Be willing to rediscover possibilities, to allow that it may be possible, that I may yet win back my Katalmach once more? Please?" Her voice sounded small and uncertain, and she disliked the feeling. She knew he needed time, but in his voice she heard his walls going up again, and she didn't think she could bear to lose him to his own doubts.
He looked away, sorrow and weariness in every line of his posture. "Very well, my lady, I will try to...maintain an open mind."
"Thank you. Come now, rest well, for tomorrow we shall be busy indeed."
"Very well, my lady." he said again, offering her a tentative smile this time.
That night they both slept soundly, wrapped in each others' arms. When morning broke, they rose and readied themselves for their return at last.
Raewyn took Casavir's hand, and said "Come, my paladin, let me take you home"