"Hey, Soldier" - Avisary - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

“Hey, soldier.”

Those are the first words she says to you at camp the night after killing the Paladins of Tyr. You nod back, make sure she’s alright since she nearly burned down the tollhouse. She is.

“But I need to get this engine under control, before I implode and kill everyone,” she says.

It’s become her usual greeting whenever you go to talk to her. You find yourself drawn to her more and more each day, admiring how she throws goblins and worgs alike into the chasm, how she effortlessly beheads the drow Minthara, how she lugs three-to-five smokepowder barrels around with no visible exertion.

You happily take the extras when she can’t carry anymore. It’s the least you can do, with how much the rest of your group loads on her.

“Hey, soldier. One more barrel,” she says and you find you can’t move with how laden-down you are. She laughs and Shadowheart tuts and Lae’zel rolls her eyes before taking the final barrel.

“Let’s go kill a hobgoblin.”

It’s the first thing she says when you lament that you still can’t touch her after Dammon upgrades her engine.

“Soon, yeah? Then I imagine we won’t be able to keep our hands off each other.” In the background, Wyll and Shadowheart mime gagging and you flash them a rude gesture and a smirk when she turns back to Dammon.

“Hey, soldier.” You can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy when she greets Gale with that familiar phrase. You’d mentally assigned it to yourself because it was you who had first recognised that she’s not a devil, you who invited her to join your party, you who’d bothered to stand up for her when Wyll approached her with his rapier.

Of course she’s allowed to say it to others, you remind yourself. It’s not like you’re anyone special. Just another tadpoled adventurer brought together with this unlikely band of misfits by circ*mstance.

“Hey, soldier. What’s on your mind?” You’re startled out of your reverie to see a giant red tiefling inches from your face.

“Nothing,” you say. “Just excited about the party tonight.” She raises an eyebrow.

“That didn’t look like the expression of somebody excited,” she says and you force a smile onto your face.

“No, see, I’m ecstatic, I’m elated, I’m excited. I can’t wait.” She laughs.

“Just as long as you’re not absolutely miserable, I guess I’ll allow it.”

“I think I’ve finally drummed up the courage to tell you I like you,” you say and your heart melts at the way her face lights up.

“I like you too, soldier. Gods, do I like you.” You smile at each other dopily until a splash of water lands on both of you and Shadowheart’s yelling at you to find a private tent. You laugh, and after a beat, she laughs too.

“I’ll find you after everyone’s gone to bed, alright?” she asks and you agree. You glance at Shadowheart as you go to talk to Halsin and she rolls her eyes with an air of faux-exasperation.

“About time you two stopped dancing around each other,” she says, raising her goblet. You deftly avoid a drunken Bex and a harried Danis to check in on Halsin. You feel the burning gaze of a fiery-hot tiefling boring into your back as you speak to him and he smirks knowingly.

“Go,” he says. “We can debrief tomorrow.”

“Hey, soldier.” She waves as she crouches over you, the music dying down and the refugees slowly passing out in any free spot they can find.

“I think just about everyone’s asleep. Mind if I sit?” You sit up and she sits down and you watch as the campfire flickers away.

“So. Isn’t it mad, just how good life is?” she asks. It really is, and it’s even better now that you’re here with her. You even convince her into one tiny kiss that you deepen, only for her to shove you away.

“Sorry! It’s just - are you okay?” You are. Slightly singed, but oh-so-worth it.

The evening ends on a high note and she goes back to her own tent while you lie in yours, running your fingers over your lips with a happy sigh.

“Gods, what I wouldn’t do to be able to cool you down,” you tell her the next morning. “I’d love to be able to touch you.” She grins down at you, fangs flashing.

“What would you do first?” You tilt your head and reach out, making sure to not actually make contact with her.

“First, I think, I’d run my hands all over your body.” You ignore Shadowheart’s mock groan in the distance.

“You give me chills,” the tiefling says, “and that’s hard to do.” That gives you an idea.

“Gale! Could you come over here for a second?” you call. The wizard looks up, puts down his book, saunters over.

“How can I help?” You explain your thought process and he rubs his chin.

“What do you think?” he asks her. She bobs her head.

“Let’s go, go, go.” He readies his magic and shoots a ray of frost at her and she gasps.

“Oh, I think this might actually work. C’mere, you.” Your lips meet again, and her eyes close as yours widen. Literal sparks fly around the two of you until you reluctantly pull away.

“How was that?” she asks.

“Sparks. I saw actual sparks.” She rubs her chest.

“I still feel them zipping around inside me. Thank you, Gale. Not a long-term solution, but it helped.” She looks at you.

“Gods soldier, we better find a permanent way to cool me down, and soon. I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

“Buck up, soldier,” she tells Lae’zel as the gith stares at the corpses of her kin scattered around the Mountain Pass.

“They were my kin,” Lae’zel hisses and you move to calm her. When the tiefling shoots you a look, though, you turn your motion into stooping to search the nearest body.

“They were going to kill us, mate,” she says. “And isn’t it part of your doctrine to ‘show no quarter’ and all that?” As Lae’zel reluctantly nods, you dig up a slate disk with unintelligible markings.

“Here,” you say, passing it to her. She takes it, looks at it, looks at it again.

“A map to the crèche!” she exclaims. “We must go at once!” She hurries away. You exchange grins with the others.

Your ears prick up as you hear familiar footsteps thud past your tent to Lae’zel’s.

“Hey, soldier.” Lae’zel growls something in response.

“Hey, now. Use your words. How’re you feelin’?” A heavy sigh.

“To think that I gave my life in service to Vlaakith, only to be declared hshar’lak. It is a feeling indescribable.” A pause, another sigh.

“I…apologise. I am not the best company right now.”

“That’s alright, soldier. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.” The footsteps thud back in your direction, yet you’re still startled when the flap of your tent is yanked open.

“Hey. Can you talk to her?” You look back.

“I can, but what makes you think she’ll want to talk to me?” Lae’zel had been particularly grouchy ever since you’d turned her down. She hums as she leans on the tent pole, drumming her fingers on her chin.

“Oh, I know. I’ll get Gale to talk to her.” You bark out a laugh.

“She’ll take his head off before he can get one lecture out.” She snorts.

“Good point. Maybe we’ll just leave her alone, after all.”

“Hey, soldier. That was a good thing you did back there.” You look up from the boots you’d stolen from the gnome.

“...Me? Good?” you ask and the tiefling shakes her head in bemusem*nt.

“I mean helping her. You didn’t have to, but you still gave her that antipoison.” You blink at her.

“But I did have to. It was the right thing to do.” She grins.

“And that’s why I like you, soldier.”

She laughs as you struggle to chop off Nere’s head.

“Like watching a lemure eat porridge,” she says, “messy and unsettling.” You glare at her as the head finally falls away.

“I sincerely hope you never find employment as an executioner,” Shadowheart sighs, shaking her own head.

“Watch it.” You hold up the knife. “I can be just as messy taking yours off.” Both of them laugh, and after a moment, you laugh too.

“Hey, soldier. Toss me that head, would ya?” You eye her suspiciously

“What are you going to do?”

“Well, if you can barely remove it, it’s probably better if somebody else carries it.” You roll your eyes but hand it over.

“Hey, soldier. I don’t like this darkness. Just stick close to Mama K, and everything’ll be alright, yeah?” You’ve never heard her refer to herself this way, but you’re certainly not going to complain. It’s dark, and cold, and only Shadowheart is in her element as the eight of you traipse through the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

Halsin shudders. It’s just as bad as he remembered a century ago, he says. You press as close as you can to her fiery body even as you team up with a group of Harpers and fight off several shadowy fiends.

“Thanks,” the survivors say. “We have a safe place - follow us.”

“Ohmygods soldier, that’s Jaheira! The Jaheira!” She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet and you find yourself caught up in her infectious enthusiasm.

“Well, that’s the Jaheira who just tried to kill us all,” you laugh, and she snorts. Then she looks up.

“Hey! That’s Dammon over there! We should go say hi!” Before you can stop her she’s bouncing over to talk to the smith, and you share a shrug and an exasperated sigh with the others.

“Might as well go see what he has to say,” Gale decides.

You kiss her and she nearly collapses in your arms.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Neither of you acknowledge Dammon’s warning about needing to go back to Avernus. She sniffles and pulls away, looking down at you with a wet smile.

“Hey, soldier. Can we go to bed now?” You smile back but shake your head.

“And pass up on talking to the Jaheira?” You follow Gale into Last Light, not letting go of her hand. Shadowheart smirks at you even as Lae’zel drapes an arm around her shoulders.

It’s the first thing she says when she rushes up to you after the final winged horror falls.

“Are you alright?” she frets and you bat away her flapping hands.

“I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about me.” You ignore the fact that you are decidedly not fine, having borne the brunt of Marcus’ attacks after Shadowheart finally convinced Isobel to stay still under Sanctuary. She looks at you skeptically, at the bruises spotting your face, at the deep cut running down your side.

“If you’re sure, soldier.” You nod firmly.

“I am.”

Shadowheart sighs and heals you when she walks away. You thank the cleric. She shakes her head at your stubbornness.

“Hey, soldier.” She waves at you that night and you smile at her awkwardness.

“How are you feeling?” you ask and she shifts in the sand.

“Like an animal. Pent up.” She goes on and you nod, but you’re distracted by her muscles, her tattoos, her smile, and she notices and laughs.

“Are we sure I won’t hurt you?” she asks, considering the sparks flying from her vents.

“We can go slowly,” you promise. She grins and pulls you in for a deep kiss.

Your bodies connect in ways you never expected them to connect before.

You’ll later remember this night as one of the best nights of your life.

You watch her wander around the camp, eyes closed, humming happily, until she walks directly into you. You hear Halsin snort from clear across the camp.

“Oh! Hi. Hey.”

“I really enjoyed myself last night. Did you?” Her face lights up and you swear that you’ll do anything to keep seeing that expression.

“Gods, yes. So. What now?” You shift your weight, words suddenly catching on your tongue.

“I think I love you,” you finally say, and she glows such a blinding blue you think you’ll see it imprinted in your eyelids 'til the end of time.

“Iloveyoutoo!”

“Hello, darling,” she says and you stare at her in surprise.

“When did that happen?” you ask and she grins sheepishly.

“I just figured if we’re, uh, together now, maybe an upgrade from the ol’ soldier?” You smile up at her.

“That’s perfectly fine by me.”

“Hey, soldier.” She carefully places a hand on Shadowheart’s shoulder, but the now ex-Sharran doesn’t react. Lae’zel tuts and steps in, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her away.

“You go kill Ketheric,” she says. “I will watch over her.” You watch them go, then turn to the others.

“Lae’zel’s right,” you say. “We have an immortal to kill.”

You celebrate not with a party but a gathering in the throne room of Moonrise Towers. Halsin stands with Thaniel and Art Cullagh, and the three nod at you solemnly as you pass by. Gale’s enthused over the sight of the Crown the Elder Brain wears, and wants to go to a bookstore in the city.

“Good idea,” you tell him, and he beams at you.

“My ideas usually are.” You roll your eyes and Astarion laughs.

“Humour him for me, will you?” he asks and you shake your head in bemusem*nt. Wyll declares his intent to save his father, and you agree.

“Anything to save Duke Ravenguard,” you say, and he frowns but accepts it. Jaheira invites herself into your camp. You let her.

When you turn to her, she’s blazing hot.

“That was Gortash. f*cking hells that was Gortash. What in the f*ck was he doing there?” You want to reach out, but you’re not immune to fire.

“I don’t know,” you say instead. “We’ll have to find out once we reach the city.”

“I’m gonna kill him!” You smile grimly at her and she begins to cool down.

“We will. Together.”

“Hey, soldier.” You look up at her and quail at the single most disapproving frown you’d ever encountered.

“Look. I know I said I’ll never go back to Avernus. But I’ll make an exception, just this once. For you. We cannot be tied to that devil.” Wyll nods.

“One contract with a devil is enough,” he says. “But another? With such high stakes as this? We need to get that contract back, and soon.”

“Thanks guys,” you say. “You don’t have to come with us.” Of course she does. Somebody’s going to have to navigate you through the Hells.

You cheer when Gale talks Astarion down from ascending. She claps the spawn’s shoulder and nearly sends him to his knees.

“I’m right proud of you, soldier,” she says.

“Ow” is his only response.

The two of you and Shadowheart cry together as the moon motes dissolve into the air.

“I know it’s what they wanted,” she says through shaky breaths, “but what about what I want?”

“It’ll be alright, soldier,” she says. “Not now, not soon. But in time.” Shadowheart cries harder and you rub comforting circles on her back as she soaks your tunic.

Astarion returns Gale’s favour and convinces him to return the Crown to Mystra after the Netherbrain’s defeat.

“If I have to stay a spawn, you have to stay a mortal,” he tells his boyfriend and Gale nods.

“Fine. And it would get this blasted orb out of my chest.”

“Glad you won’t have to forget us little people,” you say, and he laughs.

“Me too, in all honesty. Maybe I’ll become a professor. I’ve always liked teaching.”

“You’re a good teacher.” You both smile as you remember his little lesson all those weeks ago, in your first camp in the wilderness.

“Oi, love. Do I need to be jealous?” But she’s grinning and you swat her arm.

“Of Gale? Always.” She laughs, long and loud.

You’re all shaking as you climb out of the wreckage of the Iron Throne.

“Hells. That was so much tenser than I thought it’d be,” she says. Wyll embraces his father fiercely, only to be pushed away.

“What in the Hells happened to you? Have the devils finally gotten their claws into you?”

“Far from it,” Wyll says. “I’m free now. Ready to be at your side for anything you need of me.”

“Then it’s time to privately announce that I’m stepping down as Duke. Take my place, son. You’ll be a great leader.”

“Then it shall be done.” They turn to the rest of you.

“So. Grand Duke Wyll Ravenguard,” you say. “Best of luck, I guess.”

“Thank you. I hope to be able to change the city for the better, once we defeat the Netherbrain.”

“I’m sure you will, soldier.”

“Hells. I’m back. I’m actually back in Avernus.” She turns to you.

“We get the contract, and get out. No funny business, darling.” She’s restless as you meticulously hunt through the House of Hope, looking for your contract. You studiously ignore the dwarf’s apparition appearing in random places and finally find the Archive and the Archivist.

“Don’t you recognise me? I’m clearly Verillius Receptor,” you lie, and the Archivist immediately switches tracks.

“Apologies, your horribleness! Your…mortal disguise…was simply so horrible I couldn’t see past it!” You cross your arms.

“Good. Now, I’d like to take a look at this contract here.”

“Again, my apologies, your awfulness, but this is a special piece only accessible to the Master. If you are willing to wait in the Boudoir until he returns, you are, of course, welcome to do so.” He hands you a scroll and tells you where to find the Boudoir, and you lead your party to the room.

“f*ck, soldier, I can’t believe you actually did it,” she breathes. You make a face as you pull your clothing back on.

“I feel dirty for enjoying that,” you admit, and the incubus laughs.

“Don’t deny yourself, darling. Now, you’ll find what you need behind that painting there.”

“No!” you scream as she falls to Raphael’s claws. She does not get up.

“Focus, istik!” Lae’zel yells as she smashes the final pillar. Gale curses as his Globe of Invulnerability falls.

“Hurry!” he calls as he recasts. Shadowheart narrowly avoids a cambion’s attack and shoots a guiding bolt at Raphael, which Astarion quickly follows with an arrow.

“He’s almost down, I think!” he says and you land the final blow. You ignore his corpse and run to where she lies, unmoving.

“We need to get her to Withers, now,” you say, and Lae’zel helps you carry her through the portal while the others loot Raphael’s body. Withers revives her after you pay the fee and you breathe a sigh of relief as her eyes open.

“Hey, love. How long was I out?”

“Long enough to miss the finale,” you say and she groans.

“Damn. I was hoping to see that f*cker go down.”

“We still have two f*ckers to kill,” you remind her. “We saved one of them for you.”

“...Is that it?” She stares down at Gortash’s body, bloodied and broken at the bottom of the cliff.

“Is that f*cking it?” Her fires ignite and she blazes hot, and you have to step away lest you find yourself with two less eyebrows.

“Am I f*cking missing something?” You say nothing. She needs to let it out. She rants and screams and cries and you want nothing more than to hug her, but her fire burns so hot you’d melt into a puddle of goo before you could touch her.

“It’s not f*cking fair. I want to live. I WANT TO BLOODY LIVE!” She breathes deep and looks at you, the flames calming to their usual flickering.

“Sorry, soldier. I need to go back to camp for a bit. Scream at the sky some more. I’ll catch up with you later.” She turns to go, then looks back.

“Thanks for existing. Love you.” You watch her go, your heart breaking, until Wyll touches your shoulder.

“Go after her,” he says, and you nod.

“I will. We should give her some space, though. Just for a bit.”

“Hey, soldier. Finally caught up?” She’s sitting in front of her tent, fidgeting with Clive. You smile hesitantly.

“Still ‘soldier’, after everything we’ve been through?” She grins up at you and stands.

“Force of habit, I guess. So. Did I miss anything?” You shake your head.

“We were more worried about you. You alright now?” She bobs her head.

“Weirdly…yes. I am.” She looks down at you, a weak smile fixed on her face.

“I just…hm. One request?”

“Anything.”

“When all’s said and done, stay with me? Till the end?” You blink back tears.

“I will. Always.”

“One other thing, actually. I want to go on a date. A real date. A first date, where we know nothing about each other.”

“I’d like that. I’ll follow your lead, then.”

The date goes smoothly and the sex afterward is incredible. Yet, even as you lie together on the rented bed, your thoughts go to her inevitable fate. She’d rebuffed every attempt to even mention going back to Avernus. You know that at this point, nothing will convince her. She’ll die, and you can’t help her.

Orin takes Halsin. You don’t want to care, but you still need to kill her to get her Netherstone.

The fight is long and hard, but thanks to the inconveniently small platform, pushing the cultists into the chasm is surprisingly easy.

Orin dies, and you get her stone. The Emperor appears and tells you it’s time. Jaheira scoffs at him when he leaves.

“Well. Let’s go, then.” Astarion picks the locks of Halsin’s chains and the two druids go back to camp to join Minsc.

“Let’s kill a Netherbrain,” you agree.

“This could be our final moment together. Do we have time for one final kiss?” She smiles down at you and holds you close. The others are doing the same.

“Always,” she says. You kiss, long and slow, and the blue of her fires sears itself into your vision.

Gale and Astarion stand, foreheads touching, and Lae’zel’s refusing to let go of Shadowheart. Wyll stands aside, patiently waiting while Orpheus waves his tentacles impatiently.

In another lifetime, you would’ve taken her to Avernus. In another lifetime, you would’ve found blueprints to permanently fix her heart. In another lifetime, you would’ve had a happy reunion with the others six months later.

In this lifetime, though, you couldn’t convince her to go. In this lifetime, she implodes in an inferno of death, leaving nothing but bittersweet memories in your mind and the taste of ash on your tongue.

In this lifetime, you beg Withers to bring her back when he calls you all for a reunion party.

“She would not come,” he says and you feel your expression fall.

“Not even for me?”

“Not even for you.” So you leave the party, ignoring the concerned calls of your friends. You don’t look back.

You spend the next years throwing yourself into any action you can find. Wrestling a hill giant? It’s what she’d wanted, once. Dragons? Harder than Ansur, at least. But nothing compares to fighting swarms of mindflayers or the Netherbrain, and you feel nothing.

You always keep an ear co*cked for her familiar phrase, her booming laugh. Sometimes at night when you lie under the stars, you could swear you feel her blazing heat as she lies next to you.

You wipe out a sect of Ashmadai in Neverwinter, wishing she were by your side. But nobody’s there when a single arrow pierces your chest, when you realise you have no magic left, no potions, no scrolls.

You are alone.

Hey, soldier. You close your eyes.

You’re not real. But when you open them again, she’s standing over you.

“I’m as real as can be,” she says. She holds out a hand and you take it, reveling in that familiar warmth as she pulls you to your feet. You feel no pain.

“C’mon. We’ve got so much to catch up on.”