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There had been a time when Tav would ignore Shadowheart's quiet gasps of pain -- not because he wanted to, mind, but because any attempt at soothing had been met with swift and harsh rebuke. Pain is Shar's gift, and Tav learned quickly not to come between his beloved and her goddess.
But tonight is different. Not a tenday prior Shadowheart had cast decades of Shar worship into the ether along with her spear. To say she was taking it poorly would be an inadequate read of the situation; she was withdrawn, but not to the point of harm. She needed to think. She needed time.
The Sharran had long since kept her pain silent; but as Tav lies, ears pricked to the slightest sound, he picks up her voice -- "No."
It's as much of an invitation he's going to get. He keeps his blankets around his shoulders -- the early-autumn air nips at his skin -- and makes his way into Shadowheart's tent.
"Shadowheart."
He calls to her in the darkness, a whisper unheard. Her teeth chatter, her breathing comes in short gasps.
"Viam lux!"
Tav is more forceful as he summons dancing lights, illuminating their sanctum in a bluish glow. Shadowheart, curled in on herself and doused in her own sweat, lay shivering at his feet. In an instant he's on his knees. From his new vantage point he's able to see the muscles in her face clenched, eyes shut so tightly it's as though they're sealed closed.
Tentative as though reaching for a frightened kitten, he touches her shoulder. "Shadowheart, wake up; it's Tav. You're having a nightmare." Gentle fingers wipe the sweat-soaked bangs from her brow. "Come back to me. Please."
In a flash her eyes are open and locked on Tav's, a deer staring down the length of a hunter's arrow.
He brings the light in closer, that she might see an ally above her.
"Tav," she chokes.
"You're awake now; she can't touch you." He knows better than to tell her her dreams were not real. In all her wickedness, the Goddess of loss raking jagged claws down Shadowheart's brain is every bit as true as the man currently crouched beside her.
A steadying hand on her shoulder, the tortured creature's panting slowly evens out into a pained but steady rhythm. Her shaking ebbs.
"There you are," he says.
"She has me," whispers the half-elf. "I can live in the moonlight all I want to; as soon as I'm asleep, I'm hers again."
It's the first she's spoken of Shar since the night they promised themselves to one another. Tav won't ruin this. If she needs to talk, let her talk. If she needs warmth, let Tav be an inferno.
"I'm so cold."
He's ambling onto his side before the words are even out, wrapping her up in his own blanket.
She rests her slick forehead against his.
"Do you want to be touched?" He ventures, cautious.
Shadowheart's eyes study the sproutings of hair on Tav's chin with fervid intent, fearing his eyes as she had when she had first awoken. "I don't know. Can you... here, take my hand."
She was right. She's frigid. Fingers like ice meet Tav's warm hand between them. Silence fills the seconds that come next, stretching out into quiet minutes spent in contemplation.
"I don't think I'm getting back to sleep," sighs Shadowheart at last. "But -- will you come to my tent tomorrow? If you'll have me, I mean. I could use someone to banish Shar when I'm in the worst of it."
He brings her now-warm fingers to his lips. "Think nothing of it. As long as you have need of me, I'll be here."