*The lines sung later in the chapter are from the song 'In Hell I'll Be In Good Company' by The Dead South.*

Chapter 13: Reunited

Sarevok

The only thing keeping him from tearing out the ranger's throat and then taking Ilyrana against this tree was the death grip she had on his sword arm. And because she kept whispering "please don't" over and over again.

"Can't say I'm surprised. Uh, that you're both alive, I mean. The others are holed up in a town a mile back. I was scouting the area to make sure we weren't followed by any mercenaries that might have survived. Imoen will be happy to see you, Rana."

Sarevok felt her stiffen at the mention of her sister, and even though she didn't pull away, he could sense her withdrawing from him. Releasing his hold on her hair, he stepped back, letting her slide down his body to her feet. Which was a mistake on his part, but just because she was ready to get away, didn't mean he was ready to let her go just yet.

Valygar looked at Ilyrana, who was avoiding all eye contact, then met Sarevok's glowing stare and held it. For a brief moment, his lust clouded mind thought the other man was challenging him. As if the ranger could take her from him right now. He noted concern, though, which wasn't surprising, as he and the girl were close.

"I'll, um, be over here," he finally said. "When you guys are ready for me to, uh, take you to the others," and with that, Valygar vanished into the shadows.

Ilyrana moved past him without a word, careful to avoid brushing against him, and retrieved her swords. Kneeling down, he picked up his own, then went over to where she was standing nearby, her back to him, deftly braiding her hair over one shoulder.

His shoulders stung from where her nails had broken skin. He could still taste her on his tongue. Her cries, and the way she had whimpered his name, still echoed in his mind.

A part of him didn't care that Valygar had appeared. Let the man watch, it made no difference to him. Another part just wanted to get her out of his fucking system. Maybe after he had sated himself on her body, her pull on him would disappear, and he could feel more like himself again. And another part told him that the ranger's untimely appearance was probably for the best. There was a very good chance that she wouldn't get out of his system, and would be even more ingrained after the fact.

Not to mention, he had been nearly out of his mind with need, and the last thing that should happen was him losing control with her. Aside from the very real possibility of injuring her, there was also her past abuse to consider. The idea of doing something that might trigger a flashback of Irenicus made him sick.

"I'm going to go get Viconia," she said softly, barely loud enough for him to hear.

When she turned to leave, his arm shot out to stop her. As seemed to always be the case when she was involved, his body acted without his permission. She released a small huff of breath, but didn't look at him.

He was suddenly reminded of the night they talked about the memories. It felt like ages ago. Like it was closer to his brief reign over the Iron Throne, the last days of his life, rather than now. So much had changed. Yet, in some ways, it felt like they were coming full circle. Something that seemed to happen a lot with her.

Slowly, he reached to tilt her chin up to look at him. Her hands clenched when he made contact, and her eyes closed, but she didn't resist. He waited for her to open them. When she did, they flickered a little, the only sign of the turmoil underneath.

"This isn't over," he said, repeating the words from that night.

That brief glow rippled across her eyes again, reminding him of how they'd looked just moments ago. His thumb glided across her cheekbone, and he felt his pulse quicken as her gaze slid to his lips.

"You do know there's featherbeds likely to be found in that town Valygar's taking us to. I don't understand why you're dawdling around here," Viconia said as she appeared out of nowhere, and not from the direction of camp.

Ilyrana jerked away from him. He shot a look at the drow, who raised an eyebrow in response, her eyes glittering with equal parts smugness and amusement.

"I know, I know. I was disappointed when he showed up, too. Things were just finally starting to get interesting."

A strangled sound escaped Ilyrana's throat, the only sign she'd heard the drow, before she turned her back on the both of them and began walking in the direction Valygar had been.

"How long were you spying on us?"

"As soon as I heard the sound of you two fighting. For a moment, I thought you had finally decided that living was no longer entertaining for you, and I was going to have to help Rana put you down again. I have to admit I'm glad I was mistaken. And that you seem to have taken my advice and started trying to win her favor. Though I'll never understand how being beaten into submission could be enticing. Then again, she's very strange."

"You honestly believe any of that was for her benefit?"

"You aren't quite as dense as other males, so when you say things like that, I can't help but wonder if it's because the blood going to your brain has been completely diverted to elsewhere," she replied, her eyes drifting down below his waist. "Everything you do should be for her benefit, else why should she allow you the luxury of breathing? Let alone anything else?"

Sarevok grinded his teeth and walked away, deciding not to waste his time in a fruitless dialogue with the drow. Just the sound of her voice scraped against his temper. He wanted her gone. He wanted Valygar gone.

He wanted to finish what he'd started. Even though he hadn't actually intended that to happen. Oh, the fantasy had played out often enough in his head, but his only aim, initially, was the rematch. It wasn't ideal, Rana was in much worse condition than she had been before, but the taint had been too perfect an excuse to pass up.

Sarevok hadn't been lying when he'd said that violence could help curb the craving for slaughter. Nor had he had any intention of hurting her. The sight of her sliced up hand, and the pulsing undercurrent of the taint that he'd briefly felt, had unsettled him. He remembered all too well the times he'd given himself over to those quiet demands, and nearly gotten himself killed in his desire to obey their sire's call. Just as he remembered how alive it had made him feel.

Crossing swords with her again, under very different circumstances this time, had had a similar effect on him. He had expected the fight to trigger the animosity of their previous confrontation. Had somewhat wanted to be reminded of the battle that had destroyed him and everything he had hoped to achieve. The advantages he held this time, however, were far more seductive than the memory of his bitter defeat.

As her parries became sluggish, and her strikes lost their power, he had become drunk on the feeling of beating her. Of reminding himself that the only reason she had bested him the first time was the sudden onslaught of all those memories of their early years together.

This time, he didn't have to worry about that happening again. He could have toyed with her for hours, letting her believe they were evenly matched in order to savor the moment he showed her just how wrong she was. The settling darkness, though, had forced him to end it far sooner than he'd wanted. And when he'd seen her back hit the tree, the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, and her sudden awareness of her own vulnerability, he realized he wanted so much more than just her defeat.

He'd wanted her to yield to him. Wanted to prolong that beastial rush of victory that had washed over him as he looked down at her, her own blade at her throat. He hadn't meant to cut her, but the sight of her blood flowing, however little, had stirred something in him. Maybe it had been an animalistic need to make her submit. Maybe it was merely the high of pitting one's strength against another. Or maybe it was just that he'd wanted to taste her for so long that he had acted before he could think. Whatever the reason, he hadn't expected it to burn out of his control that quickly. Nor was he prepared for how she had responded to him.

As he began following the hushed voices of Ilyrana and Valygar somewhere up ahead, a plan started to take shape in his mind. All this time he had suspected that she was manipulating him. That she had refused to make him swear a gaes because bending him to her will, making him want to serve her, would be so much more satisfying to her. Now, though, he realized that she was just as lost in all of this as he is. Or was.

He wanted her. Had wanted her. And now he knew that she desired him, as well. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he could possess more than just her body.

Maybe, Ilyrana being the one the Prophecy spoke of wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

Maybe, just maybe, he could convince her of that as well.

If he couldn't become a god, then the next best thing was to have one's favor.

If he couldn't become a god, then he would become one's right hand.

Ilyrana

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Are you?"

"Yes, Rana. Look, I'm sorry about snapping at you when you wouldn't let me retrieve Mazzy's… body. I understand. I understood then, too. I just…"

"I know," Rana said quietly. "It hurt me, too, to leave her. And Edwin. And, gods, Korgan. I should have known about that barrier. I've seen it a hundred times before, have coordinated those who would have been hindered by it in a hundred different battles. I don't know how I didn't notice it right away."

"Probably because we were surrounded by an army. And you had just watched people you were close to die. And… you've never had to consider a Protection from Evil spell a death trap before."

Ilyrana looked away and lengthened her stride, her eyes glinting red from Infravision as she swept her gaze around, searching for any potential dangers. Valygar kept pace with her, his own eyes flashing red in the moonlight from the ring he wore that granted him the same night sight.

"I'm sorry. Again. I was just as surprised as you were about the spell. Rana, you're a lot of things, and I won't pretend that all of those things are good, but you're not evil. I don't give a damn what the gods say. Or some damn spell."

"You were surprised. I was surprised. Imoen was surprised. But not the others. I saw the looks on Keldorn's and Jaheira's faces. They were upset, but not surprised. Anomen is delusional so he doesn't count. Even Sarevok knew that spell would kill me."

An uncomfortable silence ensued as her voice faded. Whether it was because of her admission that she might be evil, or because mentioning Sarevok reminded them both of what had just happened, Rana didn't know.

"Do you think maybe the spell only detected the taint and went off that? It's growing stronger right? Maybe being a bhaalspawn, and one of the last ones left I would assume, is what triggered it."

"Maybe," she replied in a tone laced with doubt. "I've done enough introspecting lately, so I don't really feel like dwelling on the possibility that I've turned into everything I've fought against. How are the others? How's my sister?"

"Keldorn and Jaheira have been trying to work together to get a game plan going, but it's been difficult. There's… there's something wrong with the town. More on that later. Anomen has been making progress on his apparent mission to become a raging drunkard like his father. Haer'Dalis has been banished to his room for almost getting us all kicked out of the inn we're staying at because he wouldn't stop singing depressing ballads in the dining hall and driving away customers. That place is gloomy enough, those poor people don't need a Doomguard adding to it. Not to mention the fact that we've all been grieving and his songs are a constant reminder of just what was lost."

His voice had roughened towards the end of that sentence, and he stared straight ahead to avoid looking at her. She had been more concerned about her sister, and how she was handling Ilyrana's assumed death, as well as how her companions were adjusting to the change in leadership, that the notion of being missed and mourned by Valygar, as well as the others, had completely been absent from her mind.

She didn't usually initiate physical contact, for a myriad of reasons. So, when she slipped her hand into Valygar's larger gloved one, she learned that he must know of at least some of those reasons, because he was shocked enough to look down at her, then at their hands. She expected him to pull away. Instead, he surprised her by squeezing, and gifting her with one of his rare smiles.

"I'll probably never know why you can't seem to understand why we follow you. That it's you we fight for and not your cause."

"Of course I understand. You're all nuts. That's the only explanation."

Valygar laughed and reluctantly let her hand go when she drew it back.

"I won't argue that. Though, the clergy is supposed to be a reflection of it's priestess, ergo…"

"Hey, most of you have been with me for years now. You don't get to complain about my circus while you're all still performing in it so well."

"No one's complaining. You pay us too much to do that."

"Right, it's the gold keeping you around."

"See? You do know why we stay. You just don't like to acknowledge how loved you are."

"Bat shit, the lot of you. Now, tell me about Imoen."

"She… has her moments. She's been trying to help Keldorn and Jaheira with the planning, but her heart's not in it. I kind of expected her to turn to the bard, but she's been avoiding him and not answering the door when he tries to talk to her. She's strong, but neither of you hold up well in regards to the other."

Ilyrana remembered when Imoen had been taken from her by the Cowled Wizards. And when she had finally reunited with her in Spellhold, only to discover her soul had been stolen just like her own. It wasn't pretty. A lot of the blood that stained her soul had been spilled during that time. She would have drowned Faerun in it if that's what would have been required to save and heal her sister.

Not much had changed, she realized. Maybe that's why the spell had deemed her evil. She was all too willing to slaughter anyone who posed a threat to Imoen. Weren't noble and righteous people supposed to sacrifice what they loved for the "greater good"? What was the greater good? The world? What had the world ever done for her? Ilyrana had paid her dues, reaped the consequences of her birthright, and been broken so many times that each time she mended herself back together, there were more and more pieces missing.

"How long have you been in the town? And what's wrong with it?"

"Day and a half. It's an old mining town, built right up against the mountain with the river practically running through the middle of it. It grew really fast when they discovered veins of gold in the nearby iron mine. Along with a motherlode of precious and semi-precious gems. As is usually the case with these places, once the mine started running dry, people left in droves, leaving it almost a ghost town. Eventually, it became a hub of criminal activity, smugglers mostly, but it helped put the place back on the map in terms of trade, which in turn brought people back. Now, it's still being used as a waypoint for stolen and poached goods, but it's also slowly beginning to thrive from people farming the land again."

"Okay, so what's wrong with it?"

"It took some digging, I needed something to keep busy with. The feel of the place is off, there's too much fear and not enough reasons for it. Any that I could see anyway. The locals believe their town is cursed. The people travelling through it try not to stay any longer than necessary, though they can't give a reasonable answer as to why. From what I could gather, the town got mixed up with some religious fanatics some years back. Bunch of children went missing. Over the years that hasn't changed, and it's only gotten worse as Tor Niedrig's population grows. People are para-"

"Tor Niedrig?"

"Yeah, that's the town's name. We haven't had any problems yet, but there's a lot of mercenary activity. Small groups, much like ours, but still. A few of them have tried to find the most recent missing children, but they're not turning up anything. I was thinking it could be Sendai or Abazigal's people doing it. Their strongholds are supposed to be somewhere along this side of the mountains, if that map is accurate. Which I have my doubts about since Tor Niedrig isn't on it."

Ilyrana made a noncommittal sound in reply, having not been paying too much attention. For some reason, that name sounded familiar. Tor Niedrig. It scratched in the recesses of her mind. Had she read the name in Candlekeep? Or overheard it when they were in Saradush? Tor Niedrig.

"Rana?"

"Huh? Sorry. Lost in thought."

"I'll bet," Valygar replied, something in his tone made her glance sharply up at him, just in time to catch an amused smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh nothing."

"You're a shit liar."

"I'm not sure you want to talk about it."

"Oh. You mean what happened. With Sarevok."

"You know I don't like to pry-"

"Another lie."

"Alright, alright. Look, when I first saw the two of you, I… well, thankfully I was in total shock just to see you alive, that it gave me enough time to realize what was happening was… well, consensual."

Ilyrana dropped her hand to the knife that was no longer in it's usual place in her right boot. Because it was still back on the ground where Sarevok had smacked it out of her hand while she was unknowingly filleting herself. Fumbling around for her spare, she eventually extricated it out of the laces of her left boot and began spinning it. Which Valygar took note of.

"I was following the sound of combat, expecting to find bandits fighting over loot or something, then it went quiet. I didn't mean to, uh, interrupt, but I did want to make sure that you were okay. Next time, I'll remember to leave you be. I promise."

"There's not going to be a next time."

"Poor Sarevok."

Ilyrana elbowed Valygar in the ribs.

"Ow! I was kidding. Kind of. Why won't there be a next time?"

"Seriously?! You can't think of a single reason why that's a bad idea?"

"No, I can't."

Ilyrana looked at the man like he'd just told her he was thinking about moving to the city to study necromancy.

"For starters, he's my half-brother."

"In name only. You're both half god, the rules of us regular mortals don't apply to the two of you."

"Second, we used to be enemies."

"But you're not anymore."

"Third, I killed him!"

"He didn't look all that bothered by that fact just a little while ago. Next excuse?"

"I'm not entirely sure I can trust him!"

"You obviously trust him enough to be intimate with him."

"Valygar, that just sort of happened. I didn't plan for it."

"So, it 'just sort of happened' and your first instinct was to go with it, right?"

"How in the name of Hell can you be so blasé about this?!"

"I don't know. Maybe I wouldn't be if I'd been there in the beginning. When you two were tearing up the Sword Coast trying to kill each other. It's interesting though that you haven't mentioned Gorion at all."

Ilyrana fell silent. She didn't list Gorion as a reason because, after the return of her memories, she had become ambivalent about his death. Yes, she had loved him. She had once loved Sarevok, too. Yes, he had taken care of her. Then again, so had Sarevok until they were separated.

To her, it was easier to forgive Sarevok for murdering Gorion because, knowing everything she knew now, she couldn't fault him for his reasons; but it was far less forgivable that her foster father had attacked a child, erased his memories, then left him for dead. Maybe she was wrong, but a lifetime of good didn't excuse what Gorion had done to them.

"I have my reasons for not mentioning him," Ilyrana whispered.

That was as far as she was willing to go right now in regards to talking about the past. Valygar studied her for a moment before picking the conversation back up. She was grateful he didn't press her.

"Jaheira likes to regale me with Sarevok's past exploits in Baldur's Gate, in hopes of making me hate him like she does, I guess."

"Which is another reason I should stay away from him."

"Because of what Jaheira will say?"

"What everyone will say! And, why are you so okay with him? I know you weren't there before, but he's not exactly the warm and inviting type."

"First, who cares what everyone will say? You're a grown woman, and if they can accept that he's part of the group, then they can accept the two of you being together. Second, I'm okay with him because he hasn't done anything to make me not okay with him. Yes, I understand what he tried to do in order to become a god. He hurt a lot of people. Not least of whom was you. But then you killed him. You got your revenge. You saved the people. And he languished in Hell for a few years. He paid for what he did. When you agreed to bring him back, you gave him a clean slate. Knowingly or not. And no, he's not the friendliest of companions, but he doesn't sing bawdy songs at the crack of dawn like the bard. Nor does he force me to listen to his exaggerated tales of heroism like Anomen. And I don't have to worry about him accidentally hitting me with some foul piece of magic, either. Thus far, he hasn't given me a single reason to dislike or distrust him."

"The people of Baldur's Gate adored him, too. Except the Grand Dukes, because they could already see what he was. He had the rest completely fooled up until the very end."

"I don't adore him. Rana, the sexual tension between the two of you has been making the rest of us itchy. Most of the others pretend not to notice it, but it's there. If you decide to explore the attraction, I will support you. If you don't, I will support you. But don't make a decision based on what the others will think or say. They'll get over it or leave."

"And if they leave? We're already down a mage and two frontline fighters, Valygar. I'm going to have to send word to some of my former companions and hope they can, or will, come join us. Not to mention, once we do get some help, we're going to have to adjust to new people. And not just in battle."

"You've already been considering people."

"Yes. I'm not a big fan of her, but Nalia could fill the empty magic user space. Or Aerie, but Haer'Dalis was really smitten with her during her brief time in our company, so Imoen might not be too thrilled about that. The last thing we need is a damn love triangle on top of everything else."

"No arguments there. Imoen is a grown woman, too, though, Rana. If Aerie will be a good fit otherwise, you might have to overlook your sister's feelings. What about Cernd? Or Rasaad?"

"I think Cernd would work, if he can leave his duties at the Grove. I don't know about Rasaad. You remember what happened right before he left. With Viconia. Two servants of opposing gods in limited space is never a good idea."

"Viconia is also a grown woman who-"

"Who refuses to listen to that Calimite whine about his stupid dead brother," Viconia bit out from behind them. "And his obsession with Algorithm-"

"Alorgoth."

"Whatever. If he shows up, Ilyrana, I will leave. And I'll leave corpses in my wake, Shar help me."

"See?" Ilyrana said as she glanced behind her to see the drow and Sarevok coming up behind them.

"Alright, fine. No Rasaad. What about Jan?"

"No," Ilyrana and Viconia emphatically exclaimed together.

Valygar chuckled in response.

"I don't know why you don't like him. I mean, I got a little sick of eating turnips, I'll admit, but his stories more than made up for that."

"If I even smell a turnip again…"

"His stories were outrageous, often made no sense, and he had the hygiene of a gnoll. He's another one I outright refuse to be around."

"Who's Jan?" Sarevok asked.

"He was a gnome-"

"It's a 'no' from me then, as well."

"What's wrong with gnomes?" Valygar asked.

"I won't be blamed for stepping on and killing him by accident."

"And if you do it on purpose?"

"If he's half as irritating as they claim he is, I can't be blamed for that either."

Ilyrana pursed her lips to keep from laughing. Valygar grinned but said nothing as he led them out onto a tree-lined path. Deep furrows in the ground spoke of heavy wagon traffic. As well as horses.

"You said there were mercenary companies?"

"Aye. About a half dozen that I could tell. There's only two inns, and I'm afraid we got stuck at the shadier one, so I've tried to turn up as much as I can about them all. Two are just passing through the area and aren't actively seeking a contract. One was employed with Yaga-Shura and are making their way back home with empty pockets. Two others are looking for work and are the ones who've been out looking for those kids. The last one is a mean bunch. I haven't been able to find out anything about them, except that their leader's name is Captain Erelon, and he hails himself as the finest archer this side of the realm."

"Oh?" Ilyrana asked, a small smirk on her lips at the thought of that foolish man bragging about his bow skills.

"I thought that would interest you."

"What's his bow look like?"

"Expensive."

"Color of the wood? Type of bowstring? Did he have a quiver, or is it enchanted with it's own arrows?"

"Rana, I wasn't paying that close attention."

"You learned pretty much everything else about the damn place and it's people, but you can't even tell me what kind of wood it's made from?"

"Not anywhere close to everything. And you can look for yourself once we get there."

Ilyrana huffed and fell silent. As they walked around a bend in the road, the trees disappeared and she could see the lights of Tor Niedrig up ahead. Farmsteads dotted the countryside, surrounded by nearly empty fields. Everything would have just recently been harvested in preparation for the coming winter. The town itself, from what she could see, sprawled around the base of one of the smaller mountains, with more lights shining towards it's center. As they drew nearer, she could tell that the original quality of the homes was very high, if a little aged now, with finely wrought iron fences surrounding neat lawns. Worn cobbled streets had already been swept clean for the night, with blazing fires burning in lamp posts that sat at intervals down the roads leading toward the square. It was a beautiful place. Whatever was wrong with it, Ilyrana couldn't tell just yet.

Fumbling in her bag for her cloak, and getting a few more injuries for her trouble, she eventually pulled out the dark fabric and swept it over herself. Securing the ties that would hold it closed around her body, and pulling up her hood, she hoped there would be no watchmen on guard that would force her to reveal herself.

"I guess now would be a good time to mention that the mercenary army that attacked us was after a bounty on my head. Or swords, rather. Abazigal's brat might have been leading them, but they weren't working directly for him. I assumed they belonged to his father, but since he was acting outside of his dad's knowledge, I think they were hired by someone else."

"How much was the bounty?"

"Not sure. Why? Thinking of turning me in?"

"I would never," Valygar replied.

"One hundred and fifty thousand gold pieces," Viconia quipped. "I found the notice on one of their corpses."

"Okay, I might think about turning you in."

"Wow, really? One hundred and fifty thousand? My highest yet. They wanted my swords as proof. I'd be willing to go sixty-forty if someone wants to track down the one who posted it and bring them my swords."

"Sixty-forty, abbil? Why not fifty-fifty?"

"Because I'm the one sacrificing my swords."

"Seems fair," Valygar said thoughtfully. "Ya know, it would be a good way to find out who hired them."

"And to get one hundred and fifty thousand gold."

"Rana, I know for a fact you have more than that stashed away."

"So? How much gold is too much? I mean really?"

"You don't even spend what you already have. Oh, the inn is up ahead."

Valygar moved in front of them and began heading toward a large, ugly building that looked more like a warehouse or barn than an inn.

"The Last Stop," Ilyrana read from the broken signpost just outside the entrance. "Okay, that's a creepy name."

"It sounds like Haer'Dalis has been let out on good behavior," Valygar chuckled as he opened the creaky front door and the sounds of the inn washed over them.

"I see my red head, messed bed, tear shed, Queen bee, my squeeze

The stage it smells, tells, Hell's bells, miss-spells

Knocks me on my knees

It didn't hurt, flirt, blood squirt, stuffed shirt

Hang me on a tree

After I count down, three rounds, in Hell I'll be in good company"

The first thing Ilyrana saw was the tiefling sitting on a rickety stool atop a low stage, lute in hand, singing the chorus to some morbid song. Playing to a nearly non-existent crowd. Across from him was the bar, where a skinny older woman with an annoyed expression stood drumming her fingers and glaring daggers at Haer'Dalis. All of the tables were empty except for one.

Ilyrana's heart stopped when she saw the pinkish red hair of her sister, sitting with her back to the door. Keldorn, who was sitting opposite the girl, saw her first.

She gave a small, tired smile to the old paladin. He returned it with a deep bow of his grey head, and a smile that made her own grow wider. His bright blue eyes glistened enough for her to see even from across the room. He said a word to Imoen, and she turned around.

Time seemed to stop as the two sisters locked eyes. Ilyrana vaguely noted that Haer'Dalis had stopped playing mid-song, and the barkeep had turned her sour look onto the newcomers. Those were the last of her impressions before she was bounding across the room, eager to reassure herself that Imoen was alright.

Imoen let out a cry and met her nearly halfway, practically tackling the smaller woman into a nearby table.

"Oh my god, Rana! I thought you were dead. Oh my god…How?!"

"Shhhhh. It takes a lot more than an army to kill me." Ilyrana murmured into her hair, noting that it was unwashed and that Imoen smelled vaguely of cheap wine.

Pulling away to look at her sister, Ilyrana brushed the tangled bangs back with her fingers and wiped the tears off the girl's face.

"How, Rana? We saw how many of them there actually were when we were fleeing. There's no way you could have survived that. Unless… oh gods, Rana, no."

Ilyrana watched realization, followed swiftly by denial, light Imoen's face.

"It was the only way, love. It was the Slayer or death. I chose. And I get to be here now because of it."

If at all possible, Ilyrana was going to avoid telling any of the others the details of what had happened during that fight. And after. Viconia had picked up fairly early on the implications of Ilyrana sharing her soul with Sarevok. Keldorn had as well. She wanted to keep it that way.

More secrets, Rana?

"I wish you hadn't had to let that thing out, but I'm glad you're alright. I just… I didn't know what to do. With you gone. I'm… well, nevermind. How are you feeling? You look starved and the bags under your eyes make you look like a vampire."

"Thanks," Ilyrana drawled. "I'm fine."

"Liar. Come on, I'll let everyone else have a turn making you uncomfortable, then I'll go draw you a bath and force some food down you. You can bunk with me tonight, as I don't think there are any rooms left."

"That won't be necessary-"

Haer'Dalis engulfed her in a tight hug, enveloping her in his unnaturally warm body heat and the faint smell of sulfur that seemed to hang around him. Effects of his demonic half, she assumed.

"My heart soars to see you alive, my raven. I've always wanted to write your story down, to immortalize the things I've seen while flying with you, but I must confess I wasn't prepared for the task once it was set upon me."

Ilyrana awkwardly patted his back and wriggled out of his grip, grateful he wasn't much bigger than she was or she would have had to resort to biting.

"You don't have to write my story, HD. Honestly. Please don't."

"Don't let him fool you, child," Keldorn said. "He may have found it difficult to do so, but our bard was making good progress in turning your life into song. I wouldn't think that, as mad as it is, it would need much, if any, embellishing, but he's proven himself more than up to that task."

The paladin embraced her before she could duck away, but he made it mercifully brief.

"Can we be done with all the touching now," Ilyrana mumbled as she straightened her hood and tried to hide how overwhelming this reunion was turning out to be.

"Godchild…"

Ilyrana turned to the staircase that led to the second floor in time to see Jaheira finish descending them. Thankfully, Jaheira respected other people's personal space, so that when the older woman reached out to grip her forearm in greeting, she didn't have to worry about her pulling her into a hug.

"How is this possible? Did that barrier fall before you were overwhelmed? And I see Viconia made it as well," Jaheira said, purposefully omitting Sarevok's presence, as she often did.

"Not exactly. It's good to see you, Jaheira, but I'm really not up to telling the story right now. We made it out alive. That's all that matters right now."

The druid narrowed her almond-shaped eyes at her for a moment, studying her with an intensity that instantly made her uneasy. Almost as if another Protection from Evil spell had suddenly sprung up between them, making her want to recoil before she was burned. She was immediately relieved she had braided her hair over the side of her neck that bore the evidence of her lapse in judgement with Sarevok.

"As you would have it. There will be plenty of time for talk in the morning."

Joy.

"Where's Anomen?" Valygar asked, which made her want to elbow him again. He knew damn well she didn't want to see the man.

"In his room," Keldorn replied grimly, his tone laced with disapproval. "In one form of unconsciousness or another, I'm sure. It'll do him a world of good to know you're alive, Rana."

"I'd hate to wake him up at this hour-"

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Valygar interrupted.

Ilyrana's elbow tingled with anticipation.

"He can wait," Imoen butted in. "Come on, sis, let's go get you cleaned up. You're starting to get that kobold smell again."

Following her sister up the stairs, she felt the cumulative effects of exhaustion, hunger, and lack of alcohol begin to make their presence known. Knowing there was a hot bath in the very near future, coupled with some form of food, wine, and a bed, she could almost feel relieved to be back, not just among her friends, but in civilization, as well.

Almost.

Maybe it was the wrongness that Valygar had spoken of that she was beginning to notice.

Maybe it was the feeling of several pairs of eyes on her back as she disappeared up the steps, each set watching her for very different reasons.

Maybe it was the lies, half truths, and other verbal evasive maneuvers that she was already preparing to employ.

Or maybe it was the knowledge that, despite being reunited with her companions, her time with them, and her respective relationship with each one, was going to be different than before.

So much had changed in so little time. None of them knew the full extent of what had transpired. Between her and Sarevok or within herself. The threads she had spun were beginning to come together. To create a whole. A web used to deceive the ones she led so they wouldn't have to look at the monster waiting beneath. She used to fool herself into thinking that monster was the Slayer. And her father. And the taint. She wasn't wrong exactly, she just wasn't wholly correct. Each was a subtly different head of the hydra, but they were all connected. All one being.

She was that one being.

As Imoen began leading her down a hall towards her room, chattering away about things Ilyrana's mind couldn't comprehend in its present state, she hesitated at the banister overlooking the dining room floor. Looking down, she could see Valygar trying to engage Jaheira in conversation, only to be given a monosyllabic reply and the cold shoulder. Haer'Dalis was at the bar, humming to himself as he waited for the old woman to fill his tankard from a nearby keg. Viconia was beside him, impatiently waiting to be served. Keldorn appeared to be in deep conversation with Sarevok.

As her eyes fell upon the Deathbringer, he immediately turned his head and looked up at her. His half of their soul reached out toward hers, stopping just shy of contact. When she went to turn away, lest she become trapped by the intensity of his stare again, he struck. Wrapping his half around hers, she was momentarily frozen in place from the shock of it.

She could hear Keldorn's voice, more discernible than she should be able to from this distance, but still quiet enough that she couldn't make out his words.

She could feel the cuts she had made in Sarevok's shoulders with her nails.

She could see herself in his mind, as she had looked while he pressed her against the tree, her glowing eyes glazed with desire.

She could smell the faint scent of jasmine, and orchids, that her skin and hair naturally smelled like.

She could taste the blood and sweat on his tongue as he had sucked at the cut on her neck.

Tell me to let you go and I will.

His voice echoed softly in her head, like muted thunder. Trembling from what he was showing her through the connection, Ilyrana tried to form the words inside her mind.

Let-

Another image swam into view, blurring her focus. This time, it wasn't a memory.

In the scene, instead of kissing her as he had done after taking her hair down, he pulled away, dropping her to her feet, only to turn her and press her front into the tree. Gripping her hair in one hand, he pulled her head to the side to continue biting and sucking at her neck. His other slipped beneath her shirt, his fingers a gentle counterpoint on her ribs and stomach to the harshness of his lips and teeth.

Please…

Please what? Say the words, little one.

Before she could even form a thought, much less a sentence, he progressed the story he was unfolding in their minds.

His thumb glided across the bottom swell of her breast. His mouth trailed down to the exposed skin of her shoulder, further marking her skin. Marking her as his own. The grip on her hair tightened as she pressed back against him.

Rana…

She didn't want to want him. She didn't want to enjoy what he was showing her. Three short words and she would be free. Such a simple thing, yet her will evaded her.

Any moment the others would take notice. Imoen would see that Ilyrana had stopped following her. Keldorn would wonder why Sarevok wasn't replying to him. Jaheira would look up and see her softly illuminated eyes locked onto her former enemy below.

Say it!

His voice sounded strained. It was a double edged sword, she realized. This game he was playing, it affected him just as strongly as it did her. For a heartbeat, she considered letting him continue, to see how far he would take this. Sanity overruled that idea, however. She had to stop this now.

He spun her back around and kissed her, his hand cupping the back of her head to deepen the kiss. She could feel the desperation in his touch and through their soul.

Damnit, Sarevok!

The things I'm going to do to you, girl. Stop me now or I'll show you. And it WON'T be inside your head.

That, along with the sudden sound of her name being called by her sister, was sobering enough to fortify her strength.

Let me go.

She felt a flicker of frustration, and strangely, relief as well, from his end.

I'm not done with you, Rana.

His presence disappeared. Leaving her alone again inside her head. She would think about why that made her feel suddenly lonely much later, and with lots and lots of alcohol.

"You must be tired if you're spacing this hard," Imoen chuckled as she waved her hand in front of Ilyrana's eyes, causing her to jerk back and blink rapidly a few times to refocus.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I thought I was holding up better than this."

Ilyrana gave her sister what she hoped would pass for a sheepish look before turning to follow her once again.

"S'okay. I'm just glad it's not the taint acting funny on you again… it's not is it?"

"No, it's not the taint. It's just been a really, really, long couple of days."

"You can tell me all about it while I wash your hair."

A hysterical laugh bubbled up out of Ilyrana's throat.

"Geez, are ya sure you're okay?"

"No," Ilyrana replied. "I'm not sure of that at all."

*The town of Tor Niedrig is completely of my own invention and will serve as a sort of base of operations for Rana and her group.*