Chapter Text
I thought I knew what I wanted to say to you when I wrote this. Hells, I thought I knew what I wanted to say to you when I saw you again. But in reality, I don’t think I know what to say. The last I had seen of you was weeks ago. Gods, it feels much longer since then. When you came in to play hero all over again with that damn Aasimar with you because of course you would find the daughter of Selune in your adventures and fail to mention it. That day, when Lorroakan fell, you saved not just this tower and so many with it, but me. You saved me, damn it, and I couldn’t even properly thank you except a promise.
I thought you’d come back the next day. I spent all of that night cleaning to make sure you’d have a proper place to sit when you returned. I wanted you to be proud of what I could do. Compare me to you and see we were equals in some way. I even cleaned the damn desk.
You didn’t show up.
I thought you were busy. Maybe another day. I organized the books that night. Alphabetical order so I knew where it was if you asked. I found a comfier chair to put up there for you so we could sit and drink tea together and talk. I’ve wanted to talk for so long but it never seemed like a good time. You were busy at the Grove, at the party, then in the inn. I wasn’t approachable, I know, but damn it what couldn’t you have approached me then and spoke to me? No, this isn’t fair.
This isn’t the point.
You didn’t come back. I waited days. Days turned to a week and when I realized you weren’t coming back I asked Cal and Lia about it.
They told me you left Baldur’s Gate to gather resources and an army. A fucking army. I knew there was going to be a fight, but how big of a damn fight that you need a bloody fucking army? How much danger are you going to be in? Are you even going to make it-
“Damn it.” Rolan’s hand stuttered and he could hear the parchment ripping before he felt it. His hand was shaking around the quill and he held it up in an attempt to force it to stillness. Behind him, where he was crouched at the desk, his tail whisked back and forth in agitation. It was late in the tower, with the moon blocked by clouds and candles burning down enough he would have to replace them soon. Those who filled the tower were already in bed. Even Cal and Lia had bedded down after dinner, but Rolan remained up.
And he remained attempting to write a letter he had been trying to write for hours now.
Failed attempts were pushed aside all around him and the most recent one would join them, tossed aside like tissue paper as he stood to pace his anger away. His steps were silent without shoes. His robe had been abandoned in favor of under clothing in the form of a bare chest and loose pants he would normally rest in. His tail swung freely to cut through the air, his hands clenching into fists at his hips as he wandered the room.
‘Stupid. Foolish. Desperate. What am I thinking? They won’t read this. They never would even get it. How would I send it?’ The thoughts consumed him until he faltered, turning to slap open palms loudly against the flat of his desk.
“Damn it!” He said it with a roar, frustration boiling over until he was slapping at the papers on his desk. They scattered like falling leaves and bounced through the air until they collapsed to the floor. One, the latest he had written, continued to flutter until it slid across the ground like ice-
Right out his office door.
Nobody should be awake, but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t wander by in the morning and find it. This just meant he had to walk the length of his new study and slam open the door to find the very figment of his woes standing there, paper in hand-
Wait, what?
Rolan blinked. He blinked several times as the anger boiling over suddenly simmered into nothing. Stagnant confusion at the face he had thought of a million times in the night standing right in front of him, usual armor and weapons of choice seemingly gone. In fact, they looked to be in casual ware that looked almost unnatural on them, like they had just bought it without properly wearing it around first. Their hair was washed. He could tell because when they didn’t wash it, like he had seen at the inn, it bunched up and greased up in a shiny manner. This was soft with volume to it. Their eyes darted first from the paper up to him, to acknowledge he had opened the door.
Then back to the unfinished letter-
“Don’t!” His hand was too slow for the reaction speed they had built up over the times and the paper was pulled further from him. “Put that down, that is none of your business-“
“You missed me?” Their voice was on the edge of teasing, just enough to make his already red skin darken, but their eyes.
Their eyes held a softness for him he hadn’t been expecting.
He was frozen in their gaze, hand still reaching for the paper they held out to the side like a prize, and he swallowed.
‘Say it.’
“No. You’ve got it wrong.” He sniffled.
‘Not that.’ But it was too late. Their smile faltered just slightly and he realized his mistake when they looked at the paper in hesitation.
“Oh? And this-“
“A mistake.”
This time, their smile dropped completely and he realized far too late his words were dooming him. The paper dropped from their hand and they cleared their throat.
“I see. Then, I’ll leave you to-“
“Wait-!” He reached for them, but they were pulling back. They were fading with a polite smile and stinging glaze of betrayal in their gaze. They were moving towards the stairs and all the words he hadn’t said were gathering in his mind, trying to boil over as he fought and fought to figure out what to say. Everything choked up in panic because they were leaving him again. They were going to hells know where and he would be stuck in the tower, all alone.
And this time, they might not come back.
“Wait! Before you go, I have something I need to get off my chest.” His tail lashed when he moved, a well-placed Misty Step letting him catch them at the steps, his hand on their wrist. They didn’t jerk from him, which he thankful for, but their gaze held hesitation. He tried to think of the words, tried to conjure them.
‘Stop. Speak.’
So, he stopped thinking for once and he just spoke.
“You are, without doubt, the most maddening person I have ever met. You are reckless and foolhardy.” Their eyebrows shot up in shock, but he didn’t give them time to be upset by his phrasing. “You put yourself in harms way time after time again and it’s enough to drive a man to insanity because you see…I think about you constantly.”
This was it, he was spilling it all. Everything. And what was worse, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Like the words had fought for so long to be free that now they had a taste of it they weren’t going to give it up.
“Wondering where you are, what you’re doing, whether you’re safe. I think about brief moments of time we’ve had together and how it’s not been enough. How it will never be enough. I know I can’t convince you to stay here with me. Safe. In this tower. But when this is all over, I want you to come back to me.” He was breathing hard. His touch had turned to bruising and he wouldn’t be surprised if the moment he left go he could see the imprint of his grip, but he didn’t care. His eyes were blazing and locked onto their own and their mouth was dangling in shock. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not or if this would be the last time he spoke to them. If they would never speak to him again after this.
“Please.” Rolan begged. Actually begged, and that sparked them into standing a little straighter. “Will you come back to me. Please.”
“Rolan.” Their voice was low suddenly. A whisper. Like they were about to comfort him over some bad news and he swallowed down the nerves clawing up.
“Don’t!” Don’t. D-Don’t answer me right now. Go save the Gods damned gate and if you want this, if you want us, come back to me.” His hand slipped from elbow to wrist and to hand. A clawed thumb brushed their hand and he sighed through his nose, heart chewing a hole through his chest.
“I’ll be waiting.”