The Sorceress of Moonlight: A New Dawn in Baldur's Gate

Chapter 12: Seeds of a New Journey

Talin walked down the hall and spotted a man leaving the house. It was a familiar figure. She rushed into her father's study. "What is Lord Eldrin doing here?" she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

Her father's gaze lingered, a silent conversation playing out in his eyes. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "He came seeking your hand."

Talin's heart leaped to her throat. "Mine?"

"How many daughters do I have, Talin? Of course yours."

A knot of tension twisted in her stomach. "Father—"

He raised a hand, forestalling her words. "I have refused. It is not the first time suitors came knocking at my door."

A wave of relief washed over her. "Thank you," she breathed.

"Do not thank me too hastily," he cautioned. "This does not mean I approve of your... choices. But you are hardly more than a child in the eyes of our elven kin. Humans have a different understanding of time and growth, and here, their norms prevail."

"Speaking of choices, I assume you have not forgotten your promise. You are looking into the past of your... current love interest, aren't you?" Valyndor inquired.

"Of course not, Father. I have a lead, but it might take some time." A cold dread settled in Talin's chest. She was torn between two hearts. On one side was Astarion's reluctance to face his past, on the other, her father's growing impatience. The bond between her and her father was unbreakable, forged in years of unwavering love. The thought of disappointing him, of shattering his trust, was unbearable. Yet, her heart ached for Astarion too, understanding his fear even as she felt her father's disapproval weighing heavily on her.

"Good. I trust you'll do what is necessary." Valyndor's voice was like ice, his words piercing her heart. "Now, leave me, Talin. I have much to attend to."

"Always so busy," she smiled and brushed her fingers against the lightning shaped runes of her father's ceremonial weapon hanging on the wall. It was a storm scimitar, forged from silver and imbued with lightning magic. "All right, paps, I'll leave you to your duties."

With a graceful tilt of her chin, she turned and exited the room, her steps measured and unhurried. She took a deep breath as she closed the door behind her. "Alright, I have weathered worse storms. I will not falter," she thought to herself.

She fixed a stray strand of hair and slipped into her bedchamber. She noticed Astarion smoothening his outfit with an air of dramatic indecision. A soft laugh escaped her lips as she watched him consult the dog.

"So, Scratch, what do you think?" he asked the dog, unaware of Talin's presence. "Too flashy? Not flashy enough?"

"Is that what you're wearing to the Reunion party?" Talin inquired, eyeing Astarion's attire with a hint of concern, as she sauntered over.

Astarion glanced down at his outfit, a brow quirking up. "Well, yes. Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Wrong is a strong word," Talin countered with a mischievous smile. "Let's just say our ensembles lack a certain... cohesion. We wouldn't want to arrive looking like mismatched socks, would we?"

"Is that really a problem, Talin? Besides, this jerkin is rather stylish," Astarion defended, smoothing the fabric with his hand.

"Indeed, it is nice, but it lacks a certain flair. A celebration demands a touch of... pizazz!" Her eyes lit up. "You need something a bit more festive."

Astarion rolled his eyes playfully. "Talin, my dear, all this fuss about a party in our old camp? Besides, I couldn't care less about... pizazz."