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Ask prompt fill for @astreamofstars from this ask meme: Light and Dark Metaphors Jaheira/Khalid - "ships in the night" This is a prequel to one of the longer J/K fics I've been working on. :D Perhaps it will help me with motivation to get that done eventually.

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“No, no,” the Rashemaar tells her cheerfully. “He is a miniature giant space hamster. The name is most clear, is it not?”

Jaheira squints, peering at the small, furry rodent in the man’s hand. It stares back at her with beady, intelligent eyes, casually licking its paw to wash its face. “...Perfectly,” she says dryly.

She cannot quite figure their new traveling companions out. Well - Dynaheir is not so much of a mystery; she is stern with an almost regal air, and not (or at least not yet) much given to casual conversation, but Jaheira can understand that well enough. She herself is not generally voluble with strangers.

But Minsc… Minsc is a puzzle. She was, at first, utterly convinced that he was having a laugh at her expense, with his hamster and his odd manner and his habit of hurling himself directly at any enemy they encounter with a loud cry and remarkably little concern for self-preservation. But as they have traveled on together, she is starting to realize that he is, in fact, just like that.

The hamster is a strange one, too. Despite surreptitiously casting a spell for animal speech on herself, she cannot get a word out of it; it just stares at her with those beady little eyes and then scurries up and down Minsc’s arm.

The whole thing has her deeply on edge - more so than she already was just by virtue of accompanying the two near-children from Candlekeep who make up the rest of their party. When she and Khalid departed on this Nashkel fact-finding mission, they had not expected to end up gathering strays along the way. It makes things far more difficult…

“Minsc would ask if Jaheira also keeps an animal,” Minsc continues with that air of affable good-humor, seemingly unperturbed by Jaheira’s evident confusion. “But Minsc has seen the truth. In battle, Jaheira holds all manner of animals inside her!”

“...That is one way of putting it.” Jaheira has to admit she has never heard wildshaping described quite this way before.

“Boo wonders if you have ever turned into a hamster,” Minsc says eagerly.

“Well, he may continue wondering.” Jaheira sighs. It is not really Minsc’s fault that she is stuck on guard duty with him. This was, in fact, Dynaheir’s request - that the watch be split so that at least one of the pair of Rashemaar travelers be awake at all times. Jaheira can even understand why; in Dynaheir’s place, she would not offer full trust immediately either.

But if she has many more nights spent with only Minsc, followed by an empty bed as Khalid takes his shift, she might quite possibly go mad.

“Are you and Dynaheir… attached?” she asks carefully. Perhaps, if the answer is yes, there might be hope that this state of affairs will not last long. 

“Minsc is very attached to Dynaheir!” Minsc replies jovially. “By oath and by word - and by spell, at times, when Minsc becomes lost and must be dragged along. She is Minsc’s wychlaran, his witch, and Minsc shall follow her until he dies or the dajemma is complete, and see she comes to no harm.”

He squints at Jaheira curiously. “Is this what you mean by attached?”

“It is not. But never mind it,” Jaheira says, with a sort of weary resignation. She tilts her head, peering past the veil of leaves above them to judge the moon’s position. “It grows late enough,” she adds. “Go wake your… ‘witch’, and I shall wake my husband.”

Without waiting for a response, she trudges towards the edge of camp and the familiar, battered tent that she has carried since before she and Khalid even met. Poking her head inside, she nudges gently at the pile of blankets on the bedroll.

“Khalid?” she calls softly, her voice far gentler than it was in talking to Minsc. “Wake up, my love.” The blanket emits a drowsy groan, and she smiles to herself. “You are called to the watch, Harper.”

“B-be damned to the watch,” Khalid mumbles, muffled from within the bunched fabric.

Jaheira climbs fully into the tent, reaching under the blanket until she finds her husband’s hand and squeezes it tightly. “Shall I tell Dynaheir she shall watch alone?”

“N-no, no, I am up. I am up. I d-do not dare annoy that woman, I th-th-think.” Khalid sighs and sits up, coming fully into view as the blankets fall away. His hair is tousled and messy and his eyelids are still heavy with sleep - but his expression brightens as he catches sight of her face. “A k-kiss before I go?” he asks as he begins to clamber past her towards the tent flap.

As if she would deny it. With the current state of things, this is the only proper moment of privacy she and Khalid are afforded; it feels like clinging to water dripping rapidly out of her hands. She doesn’t even waste time answering, just cups his face in both hands and kisses him so fiercely that he overbalances and falls into her embrace. 

One of his arms locks around her waist with eager, thrilling strength, catching him in the fall, jolting their bodies together. He is warm from the blankets and his embrace feels welcoming, safe, wonderfully familiar.

“My love…” she mumbles. She rests her hand for a moment against Khalid’s chest, feeling the beat of his heart under his thin shirt. 

He brushes his fingertips against her lips, his eyes bright in the dim light of the fire outside. “Good night, d-darling,” he murmurs. “I will see you soon.”

Then, reluctantly, he draws back and disappears outside, leaving her alone in the tent. With a soft groan, she heaves herself onto the bedroll, stretches out under the blankets, breathes in the scent of him left behind.

She is struck for a moment by visions of a hundred nights in their past journeys traveling alone. It all seems so much simpler by comparison; there was nothing to distract them from each other, no orphaned young wards in need of her protection, no strange new companions carrying hamsters in their pockets. 

Grumbling low in the back of her throat, she rolls over and pulls the blanket around her. Perhaps we must simply settle this business in Nashkel, she thinks. And then matters will return to normal…

“Isn’t it our duty to burn on if we can? To fight for as long as we are able? Perhaps you were not the savior you seemed. I had learned better than to think of life as some simple tale, after all; there is no guarantee of happy endings or true heroes. I believe that still. But when I look on all we have achieved since, I wonder. Perhaps it is not heroes we need—only people who are willing to try. I do not know what manner of story that makes. But I do know that, without an ending, it would be no story at all.”

— Jaheira, Baldur’s Gate 3

Jaheira x Khalid is so powerful they made me obsessive over a ship when I haven’t done that in literally 5 or so years

Im so proud of them

It sucks being more into bg1 and 2 than three rn because finding/googling stuff is a tad hellish

Incredibly self-indulgent and questionably canonical drabble time! Set not long before Rasaad's admittance to the Sun Soul monastery.

(This was gonna be short but it got out of hand as usual whoops. XD )

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Rasaad: "You are familiar with Calimport then?" Khalid: "Oh y-yes! I spent many a h-happy hour at the Jet Jambiya. Wonderful ale." Rasaad: "I remember it well. My brother and I would often linger outside the better taverns, looking for inebriated patrons to, ah, relieve of their valuables." Khalid: "I can't say it didn't happen to me from t-time to time. Perhaps you picked my pocket!" Rasaad: "Oh. Yes. Forgive me, my friend. I feel great shame for much of what I did before finding Selune." Khalid: "I'm sorry, Rasaad. Making you uncomfortable was the l-last thing I wanted. Please, think nothing of it." Rasaad: "I shall try to do so. I suppose I have not entirely put those days behind me. Even now they find a way to disrupt my serenity." - Baldur's Gate: Siege of Dragonspear

The air of the khanduq market is hazy with late afternoon heat. Rasaad, at seven years old, is by now hardened to Calimport's desert landscape; he knows the heat will pass, but more than that, he knows how to operate within it, keeping to shadows in between his 'fishing' expeditions with Gamaz.

His older brother is the better thief of the two of them. Rasaad is quick and clever but a poor liar, and not as practiced at spotting a good mark in the ever-shifting city crowds. Today, though, Gamaz is busy fishing in the inner market, so Rasaad is left to his own devices, drifting aimlessly among the taverns that surround the khanduq like a blanket.

The taverns are rather hit-or-miss when it comes to pickpocketing. Most of the time, the bar patrons of this district have only as much coin as will buy them a night's ale. Gamaz has little compunction in stealing even from those just as destitute, but even at his young age Rasaad finds it disquieting in some way he doesn't yet have the words to define.

But every now and then, the drudach plays host to someone more important, some visitor from the rich districts come to sample the stronger (and cheaper) ale of the markets. And today, Rasaad spots one such - a merchant by his clothes, trotting on horseback down the street with his family behind him.

The man is tall, good-looking but with his looks offset by a haughty sneer that twists his mouth up at one corner. His wife, dressed the same gaudy and gold-embroidered style, bears a matching expression, as do his two young sons, each astride their own pony and marching in lockstep behind him. Behind them is a younger boy about Rasaad's age, equally well-dressed but not on horseback, trudging along wearily behind.

A good mark, Rasaad thinks. His little face twists in concentrated thought as he tries to consider what Gamaz (two years older and much wiser in the ways of thievery) would think. The two younger men are the best target; each carries a fat purse on his belt and neither seems to have much of an attentive eye, as they are both arguing with each other as their ponies trot along the street.

He watches as they dismount at a tavern door, all swinging from their horses with practiced grace and making an ostentatious show of sweeping the dust from their fine clothes. Each of them hands the reins to the boy that was following behind, leaving him with the four creatures to manage as they disappear into the tavern's dark and noisy interior.

Good, Rasaad thinks. They will get drunk, and perhaps their sons too, and the gold and silver and copper fish in their pockets will jump to the hook. In the meantime, he examines the boy with the horses, who is awkwardly fumbling with the various sets of reins to tie them all off to the hitching posts. A servant, presumably - and a rather nervous one too, as he jumps when Rasaad approaches.

"I can hold them for you," Rasaad says gravely. It is strategic, of course; if he can fall into talk with the servant boy, it will be easier to get close to his rich patrons when they come wobbling back out of the bar. It has, of course, nothing to do with the fact that the boy looks a little overwhelmed trying to hold all four creatures in place long enough to tie them off.

The boy flinches, squinting at Rasaad warily. "Y-you will not steal them?" he stammers doubtfully. "F-father says there's n-nothing but thieves up this d-district..."

Rasaad is not a very good liar, but luckily at this moment he can tell the truth. "I won't steal the horses," he says honestly, and holds his hand out. The boy relaxes, and then grins, placing two of the sets of reins into Rasaad's palm.

"Th-thank you," he mumbles. His voice is high and earnest, touched with a stammer that thickens the occasional syllable. "I'll have it all d-done in a moment. I'm b-better with the horses than Ayaan and Jamari."

Rasaad, who has never had occasion to ride a horse ever in his life, finds that they are rather stronger than he expected; one of them tosses its head and nearly yanks him sideways off his feet. But he sets his legs hard and holds on, not wanting to look like a fool in front of the other boy. "Who're they?" he asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

"My b-brothers," the boy explains. He jerks his head towards the tavern, and Rasaad blinks.

"Why en't you in there with them?" he asks, perplexed enough to break his thin veneer of disinterest. "That was your father?"

"My b-brothers are their mother's sons," the boy says glumly. "I am not. So they care little for me, and I walk b-behind, and wait here." Then he brightens a little. "B-but the horses are nicer than b-brothers, anyhow. They don't kick me."

Rasaad frowns. His memories of his own father are muddled, and all too dominated by the smear of red with which he ended. But he knows about brothers; he has Gamaz, and would not trade him for anything, as it is the two of them against all the hard world of the Calimport streets. It is hard to imagine a life with brothers where that bond is not everpresent and unspoken.

"Your brothers kick you? You should kick them back," he says matter-of-factly, hopping up on a nearby crate, his dark eyes suddenly smoldering with mild indignation on behalf of this stranger. He doesn't usually like the rich boys he's encountered, but this one doesn't make a show of it. He seems quiet - kind, even, judging by the way he's petting each horse's nose as he Rasaad wonders if he sees much of his father's coin. "Or I could kick them for you."

The boy looks alarmed. "N-no! They would have the amlakkar on you," he says, shaking his head. "It's-- it's all right. J-just the way of things." Then he smiles, just a little, leaning against the tavern wall. "But th-thank you," he adds with a sheepish chuckle.

Rasaad grunts, folding his arms across his chest. "Why did you come around here?" he asked.

"F-father has a new business deal," the boy explains. "We-- they-- are celebrating." He frowns, not quite meeting Rasaad's eyes. "He likes t-to come this way when he wants to feel important," he adds in a low voice.

Rasaad scowls. Yes, he knows many merchants from the rich districts like this; they come to the less ostentatious corners of the city just to enjoy the way all eyes turn to them when they walk through. They make good marks, usually - but that doesn't make Rasaad like them. "Think a lot of themselves, do they?"

The boy blinks, then glances furtively over his shoulder to check that no one is listening. Then he grins a little, and nods, and hops up on the crate next to Rasaad. Rasaad grins back; he's starting to get an idea.

They've been sitting half an hour or so in cautious conversation when they're interrupted abruptly by a shout from inside the door.

"Khalid!" The boy jumps at the word - his name, evidently - and then scrambles to his feet hastily as the two brothers come staggering back out of the bar. They smell not of ale but of expensive Moonshae whiskey, which they have evidently downed with significant rapidity.

One of them claps a hand none-too-kindly on Khalid's shoulder. "Ready th' horses again," he slurs. "Th' proprietor here was not - properly - respectful, so we'll not be stayin'--" he breaks off, squints at Rasaad. "What're you looking at, boy?" he snaps abruptly.

Rasaad slides slowly off the crate, peering up at the young man and not bothering to conceal his dislike. With exaggerated politeness, he bows, backpedaling a few steps. "Nothing, saer," he says. "I was admiring your garments. If you'd step this way, I should like to see them a little better in the sunlight..."

He trails off, takes a few steps back out into the street, and his eyes narrow in sudden focus as he gathers up everything Gamaz ever taught him to the front of his mind. The two rich young men - too drunk to question the idea that someone might wish to admire them - follow him agreeably towards the shaft of sunlight painting the thoroughfare... and he strikes.

It is, perhaps, one of the deftest bits of fishing he has ever managed, and he is only sorry Gamaz isn't here to see it. He manages to make it look entirely accidental, but shifts his body as he comes off the curb as if he has tripped, and strikes his full weight into one of the boys. At the same time, he lets his opposite leg catch the other boy at the back of the knee. The dual impacts send both boys sprawling out into the street, a cloud of dust rising up around them, and as they fall, his fingers flick across their belts, lifting both heavy purses from beneath their tunics and into the wide hidden pocket in his own.

"You impudent little cur!" The older of the young men comes up off the street, and Rasaad is pleased to see that a measure of horse dung is liberally mixed with the dirt now painting the front of his finery.

"Clumsy fool!" snaps the other, who has climbed to his knees and is wiping fruitlessly at a damp bit of mud that has smeared across his face.

Rasaad lets his dark eyes go very wide, and backpedals a few steps away, holding his arms out to the side in a placating gesture. "I'm so sorry, saers. So sorry!"

"Get out of here right now, if you know what's good for you!" snaps the eldest, raising a hand. Rasaad darts backwards with practiced ease to avoid the blow, and looks past the two disheveled men to the young boy still standing by the horses. Khalid, out of his brothers' line of sight, has a wide, delighted grin on his face, his eyebrows lifted to his hairline.

Rasaad grins back, then turns and bolts, disappearing into the crowd and down a nearby alley into the shadows.

Decided to write a general summary/timeline thing for my Jaheira and Khalid raise the bhaalspawn AU, my bhaalspawn’s name is Evune and she lives there now. I did need to mess with the timeline a bit so just roll with it

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1348- Gorion saves baby Evune from the bhaal temple but decides to give her to Jaheira and Khalid due to his own guilt

They take a break from the Harpers but are still heavily involved with the network to keep tabs on things and return fully once evune is a teenager.

1368- Gorion finds out about Sarevok and tries to warn them and gets killed. Good play through bg1 events follow

The party is Evune, Imoen, Jaheira, Khalid, Minsc, and Dynaheir but the other characters are involved at certain points

J+K tell her she’s a bhaalspawn earlier than you find out in the game

Normal SoD events happen and they stop the crusade but Irenicus comes to ruin everything, Evune is found not guilty of skies murder but is banished from the city so the party meet up before irenicus ruins everything again and captures them.

1369- during their captivity Dynaheir is killed in front of imoen (rip girly im so sorry) and irenicus intends to to the same with Khalid and Evune BUT Evune makes a deal with him that she would be an active participant in his experiments (very morally dubious move on her end leading to her becoming a fallen ranger) This disturbs her and she keeps this deal a secret from everyone.

Good playthrough Bg2 (+ ranger class side quest to restore her ranger status) but Khalid is also there. Evune’s a much softer character now than in bg1 because she doesn’t feel “good” anymore

1370- Throne of bhaal plot and Evune gives up her essence of bhaal (it’s a surprise tool that will help us later)

1372- a couple years later complications from irenicus’ experiments start really messing Evune up and she is taken to a healing house to try and heal her, but a cultist of bhaal seeking revenge finds out about this and in her weakened state she is fatally wounded. (I did flirt with the idea of this happening while J+K are at moonrise but I haven’t decided yet)

Fun fact: when I originally made this au Khalid still died but I was talking to a friend about it and they said “both her husband AND her daughter? Jaheira cant have shit” and I hadn’t thought about that and it seemed really mean plus it means Jaheira x Khalid lives on!!!! so I brought Khalid back. Rip Evune tho

-Fast forward to BG3 time

1464- ??? Is born

1487- ??? Is killed and used as a vessel to create Durge, along with other offerings, the water from the winding river where bhaal was killed by cyric and fell from the boareskyr bridge, and Evune’s discarded essence

1492- Bg3 Orin betrays Durge who forgets everything including her own name. Durge becomes paranoid about dying and becoming a faithless since they don’t know what god they worshiped so latches onto the first deity they come across which is Silvanus in the grove so she becomes a Druid. (They don’t know a lot about mindflayers)

Because of the essence Evune is able to communicate with Durge and is basically the anti Sceleritas Fel saying “nooo don’t kill people nooo :(“

They mainly talk when Durge is long resting (like the dream visitor but less frequently), they can communicate while Durge is awake but generally don’t.

Evune is a passive observer to the events of the game via Durge. I think of her like an invisible ghost following Durge around.

sketchbook jaheira and khalid