Chapter Text
Tav could not tear her eyes from the pair of boots swaying with the gentle gust of salty harbor air. Her stomach clenched in time with her fists, and she suppressed the ever growing urge to wretch. If only she could have suppressed that other urge – the one she fought and vanquished time and again, strengthened by the help and faith of her companions, blessed by Selûne in spite of her wicked nature to resist and cleave to the light.
Not since the bard, her draconic dirge still ringing in Tav’s ears even as she woke in the wake of bloody ministrations to the lord, god and father she had all but forgotten. Not since the bard had Tav faltered in her path for redemption. Not when commanded to take Isobel. Not when compelled to snuff out Shadowheart in the days of their fledgling love. Tav had been strong. She had led with compassion and care. She moved through the world with a heart filled with love she had no biological grounds to possess.
But that was before.
“Tav!” The sound of her name on Shadowheart’s anguished tongue snapped her back to herself. The blood was warm on Tav’s hands as her fingers gripped the mutilated tendons of Emmeline Hallowleaf’s lifeless, desecrated body. Tears were already cascading down Tav’s face, like some part of her had known all along, the evil she had unleashed on the woman that she once fought so tirelessly to save; the frail and tender life of the woman that brought her partner into this world. Shadowheart’s blood had flowed in Emmeline’s veins. Now it pooled at Tav’s fingertips and dried on her own hands.
“No. No, no, no, please,” Tav stammered, “No! Withers, please help me. Withers!”
“Get away from her!” Shadowheart screamed. Tav felt out of her own body, watching her pathetic flesh rise on shaky legs and step away slowly as Shadowheart flung herself atop her mother’s still corpse.
She wept and wailed. She laid hands on her mother and murmured the prayer again and again to no avail. Revivify would not be harnessed. It would not recall the life Tav annihilated.
Tav sprinted to find Withers and dropped to her knees in supplication.
“Please bring her back.”
“Impossible. Thou knowest this death is one of permanence, no matter how thou may wish otherwise. The mother’s death is a weight for thine own conscience to bear.”
“Withers, take me,” Tav pleaded, grasping his skeletal shoulders with a desperate, insistent shake. “A life for a life. Just please bring her back. I cannot live with this. Not after all Shadowheart’s been through.”
Tav’s mind raced with thoughts of her love. Every reassuring word she’d given Tav in moments of deep despair. How Tav had confided in Shadowheart her every struggle, every temptation, every pull toward the dark, and been met each time with the cleric’s enduring faith and affirmation.
You are allowed to hate me for this.
Tav had uttered the words through trembling lips, her shame and self-loathing etched in every feature of her face. Shadowheart was resolute. Her devotion to Tav was unwavering, in spite of another violent outburst, this time directed at Shadowheart herself. When the darkness possessed Tav’s body, she had seen through to the heart of her companion and waited faithfully for that heart to emerge out of the abyss.
Let's save the hate for those who deserve it. This isn't your fault.
But that was before.
Withers refused Tav’s request. He would not revive Emmeline. He would not put down her killer. He would not trade their souls. So Tav threw herself instead at the mercy of Jaheira.
“The path of a Bhaalspawn is not an easy one. Nor does it ever truly end.”
“Please,” Tav pressed again. “Please don’t make Shadowheart do it herself.”
Jaheira shook her head mournfully.
“I will restrain you, cub. For now, let that suffice.”
So Tav sits, bound fast to a sturdy pylon, graciously positioned by Jaheira so she can gaze out at the ocean and bathe in the purifying light of a sun soon to rise.
It was in those last moments of Night’s End that Arnell Hallowleaf approached. Tav mustered the courage to meet his gaze with tremendous difficulty.
“I can feel Selûne’s light inside you, even now,” he said softly. “If she forgives, who am I to fail to do so? Though I wish you had not intervened before. Our path back to Selûne would have been one of peace, instead of such violence.”
“Sir, I–” Tav’s voice croaks over the lump that has been lodged in her throat since waking. Even if she could speak, she could not find the words.
“You are just lost. Selûne will show you the way home, in time. I will not take Shadowheart’s future from her with my own bitterness,” he said sorrowfully. A new pit formed in Tav’s belly as she discerned the finality of his words. “Goodbye, Tav. May Selûne light your path, and shield my daughter from your wrath.”
As the sliver of first light cracked across the horizon, Tav prayed again to the Moonmaiden. She beseeched Lathander. Pleading with the gods to guide her step. To show her a path to redemption. To grant her the courage to face Shadowheart in her time, one way or another.
The faintest wisp of serenity tugged at Tav’s chest, and she basked in the stillness of morning and the quiet peace of a new day. Tav did not deserve this tranquility, so it was with a curious mix of terror, dismay, and relief when the soft touch of absolution was ripped from Tav’s reach by the sound of a taut rope, a cracking bone, and a strangled final breath as Arnell Hallowleaf’s body plummeted from the bridge to which she was confined.
She was powerless but to watch the boots sway before her eyes.