Something exploded, loud and distracting enough that Dyna finally raised her head.
She was not alone in that; the many other occupants of the cell rose out of the fog in their heads one by one, some slowly getting to their feet and beginning to mutter to themselves. Her youngest, Jeremiah, who had been pacing restlessly beforehand, was the first one to actually go to the door and peer outside. She stared blearily at him for a few seconds, not expecting much, because it was far from the first time such a noise had echoed through the metal hallways of Enver Gortash’s prison of horrors. Once it might have been worrying, but now they were thoroughly used to it. Except--
“Fucking hells!”
Jeremiah sounded genuinely shocked to his core as he jumped back, and this livened the anxiety in the damp cell exponentially until the door swung open, revealing a sight so beyond unexpected that Dyna’s heart practically leapt out of her chest. She jumped to her feet along with everyone else.
“Run!” The voice left no room for argument. “Get to the centre, climb the ladder, now!”
When Dyna had been thrown into this place without explanation it had been in the company of both of the sons she was involved with. Jeremiah was already taking off as commanded (though with an expression of sheer disbelief etched into his face) and her eldest, Jonathan, was grabbing her hand to get her running too. But the one who had freed and commanded them was her third child, her second son, the one she hadn’t seen beyond a handful of times in the past five years. Thomas… her troubled and angry little storm, the weight on her husband’s shoulders, the boy she had thought dead. Most definitely alive and powerfully so.
He didn’t even cast her a second glance before turning around and throwing himself right at one of the horrifying creatures that patrolled the prison, which emerged from behind him in a shower of salty water. There were others around, but every single one of them was made recently dead. As her feet finally took her off in Jonathan’s wake without asking for permission she passed her Tommy by and watched him cut the monster’s throat after a struggle, the bright light of his sorcery bleeding into the air and splitting through the water around them.
She could swear a spark of it landed on her arm.
“Mum, come on!” Jon tugged harder. “Hurry!”
Speech eluded her for a long time after that, her surroundings passing through his consciousness in flashes. Metal under her feet, water under her ankles, fishy corpses and blood and panic. Countless voices rose in a din, mingling with the straining metal sounds, as prisoners rushed to the strange vessel that had apparently delivered Thomas to the ‘Iron Throne.’ Dyna couldn’t manage the ladder alone in the rush, and even her sons struggled to help her up, but a tall red tiefling ran out of nowhere, threw Dyna onto her back and climbed them both up without a word. She did this without letting her greatsword go, somehow. It was coated in the entrails of the wardens. Dyna stared at the gore and the peculiar blue-shot sheen of the metal until she was carefully deposited onto a seat and left there, the tiefling moving to help others up through the hatch.
Jeremiah and Jonathan collapsed either side of her, and as they watched the other prisoners file in, it was Jeremiah that spoke up.
“That was Thomas, right?” He sounded stunned. “My fuckwad exiled supposedly dead brother? The guy my old man rants about on the daily, the abject disappointment, the ‘incapable cursed brat?’”
“Yeah,” Jon replied, barely loud enough to be heard. “And I’m sure you saw just how many of those things he apparently killed himself.”
Dyna said nothing, though a whole rush of emotion thundered through her chest, and both men lapsed into silence for a while. A second group of prisoners rushed in and was that Duke Ravengard? Was that… was that his son? Dyna remembered them both from festival appearances many years ago but the young lad sported horns now, somehow. He glanced her way briefly, concern flickering through his face, before moving to help the tiefling pull a third group up and then… another that was clearly a rescuer rather than now-former prisoner. His robes reminded Dyna of the kind of thing her husband liked to wear, just better quality, and his staff was softly aglow. A wizard, then?
“Hells…” The wizard didn’t immediately stand, shifting himself into an awkward and obviously exhausted sitting position instead. “I think that’s everyone I found on board… where’s Thomas?”
“Reckon he split off to find Omeluum…” The tiefling stared down through the hatch. “You know how he is, won’t leave anyone behind.”
“But there’s barely time left, Karlach! I should—”
“No, Gale.” Wyll’s voice was pitched soothing, but the worry there was evident. “You know there’s nothing you can do right now. He’ll return, have faith.”
This ‘Gale’ looked absolutely despondent at that answer and Dyna felt her own heart clench hard in response. All three of the group were clearly doubting that her boy was going to make it back at this point, weren’t they? Though trembling and weak, and ignoring Jeremiah and Jon’s immediate insistence that she sit back down, Dyna pulled herself back up and walked over to the hatch. The creaking of the prison below was getting far worse, and the distant sound of rushing water growing louder by the second. Couldn’t even be a minute left before they’d have to close up… half a minute would be pushing it. She fell to her knees, pressed her fingertips against the floor, staring down. Nobody was coming.
Nobody.
She inhaled sharply, some alarmed sound passing from her mouth as somebody slammed the hatch closed. At her side an immediate panicked commotion started up but Dyna didn’t pay attention, eyes widened, fixed only on the floor for what felt like an eternity. Something powerful rose in her chest, indescribable, and was threatening to burst forth from her mouth when something slammed into the centre of the vessel’s chamber with a burst of bright light.
“Fuck!”
…it was Thomas. And someone else, a blur in the air that reformed into the shape of a rather plain man, something she might have questioned in any other circumstance. Not now. It didn’t matter because her son was alive. Dyna went to rush to him but a strong red hand clapped onto her back, holding her in place, and it was instead Gale who scooped Thomas up from where he’d fallen onto the floor. The man grasped onto him as tight as Dyna had wished to do.
“You’re back, you’re back…” The wizard’s voice sounded close to breaking. “I feared you were lost to me.”
“Nearly bloody was, fuck,” Tom said, chest heaving, voice muffled as his face disappeared against Gale’s clothes. “Do we have everyone?”
“All of us are out,” replied one of the other prisoners, a Gondian, with a shocked laugh. “I can’t believe I’m saying that, but it’s true. We’re all out…”
“And we rescued my father as well.” Wyll had moved to the front of the vessel, but looked over his shoulder when he spoke. “Along with your family and now Omeluum… that makes a grand success and a hopefully very upset Archduke. It’s truly good to see you safe, Thomas.”
So Thomas and his companions truly had come to the Iron Throne with a rescue mission in mind, risking life and limb to extract every life from the horrifying prison, and they’d pulled it off against all sense like adventurers of legend. Dyna stared down at her son, who had finally raised his head only to rest his forehead against Gale’s, a gesture that made the nature of their relationship clear immediately. Was he not with the blonde boy anymore? Couldn’t be. But where had he even been, then? Some sliver of shame snaked through her chest as she thought about how quickly their family unit had moved past Thomas’s supposed death before; she’d absolutely cried and mourned, yes, but after a week and with all the threats starting to press in against Baldur’s Gate moving on to focus on the living children and grandchildren had seemed the sensible choice.
Dyna glanced back over Jeri and Jon, who both looked pale and unwell, but Jeri more so. Her youngest had never really got to know Thomas beyond blurry memories and what his father, her darling husband Mathias, would tell him, and that had… never been anything good.
“And weren’t you fucking dramatic about your return, Soldier!” Karlach let go of Dyna’s shoulder, but slowly so, quiet warning writ in the gesture. “Gale was about to do something really stupid when you finally showed up.”
“I don’t think you can blame me,” said Gale, something of a disapproving edge now seeping into his tone. “When one’s partner takes such a patently foolish risk to his life--”
“Alright, Gale.” Tom cut Gale off swiftly. “Save the lecture for later, yeah?”
“I most assuredly will.”
There was a little more playful bickering before everyone lapsed into a quiet, exhausted silence. Understandable on all fronts. Dyna could not look away from Thomas, but he seemed completely uninterested in meeting her gaze, so she returned to her other sons and spent the remaining minutes just watching. Recovering. Considering the freedom, if it could be called such, that awaited her and her boys; they had only been stuck down there for a handful of days, nothing compared to the Gondians that had become their companions, but it had been more than enough. Had it not been for Thomas, Wyll, Karlach, Gale… she owed them her life, now. Even if her son was the reason she had been taken to the Throne in the first place.
Had to be, right? Wyll had mentioned an ‘upset Archduke.’ Even though Dyna could not fathom how Tom could possibly be someone who’d get noticed by Gortash (outside of some kind of magical destruction fueled by an outburst), there was no other explanation.
She sighed softly, and closed her eyes.
“…alright, everybody else has left.”
By the time the vessel juddered to a stop Dyna had slipped into a doze; she blinked slowly, staring up at Thomas, who had drawn himself up to his full height and was finally looking her way. What he had said wasn’t strictly true; all the other prisoners had gone except herself, Jeremiah and Jonathan, but Tom’s companions remained, though stood back, close to the ladder that paved the way to city and sunlight.
“The three of you can get off home now,” Tom continued, voice a little… odd, in a way she recognised from difficult moments of his childhood. “Wouldn’t suggest you stay there, though. Grab the kids and that dickhead Mathias and find somewhere… different. Private, safe, with a good cellar to hide out in.”
“Why must you remain so hostile to your father?” Dyna asked, her voice trembling. “Please, Tommy… I know he was harsh, but—”
“Harsh? You call the fuckery he did to me— no, fuck, I am not doing this, not debating this with you, just get out of here.”
“You’d think you could at least give us an explanation before you kick us out, huh?” Jeremiah rose up at her side and immediately stepped into Tom’s space. ”Yeah, yeah, heroism, but we all heard you mention the Archduke, so I don’t think we owe you shit if you’re the reason we were even down there.”
Alarmed and certain of a fight she knew her youngest could never win, Dyna grabbed Jeremiah’s arm and tugged as hard as she could, but he didn’t move. Oddly, though, neither did Thomas, at least not in the way she expected. He glanced at Jeri with a face full of thunder, yes, the anger twisting in every part of his expression, but he didn’t raised a fist or start sparking his lightning. Instead he let out a sharp, irritated breath and stepped back just enough to get himself out of swinging distance. For a moment everything went silent and dangerous, until Jonathan rose up as well… only to leave immediately. Dyna watched her eldest vanish up the ladder wordlessly, blinking back tears she did so.
And then it was Tom himself who broke the silence proper.
“You know what, Jeremiah? Yeah, you can hear a bit of it, even though you won’t believe me,” Thomas said, careful and deliberate but voice ramping up in intensity with every word. “Myself and my real family back there recently fought alongside the daughter of Selune to send an avatar of Myrkul back into the abyss.”
“Don’t talk bullshit, Tommy,” Jeremiah snarled. “There’s no way you—”
“We invaded the home of one of Avernus’s most dangerous cambions to cut the wings from his back and take the treasure that could help save this bloody city that he’d been taunting us with. Just a few days ago we killed the Chosen of Bhaal in the god’s own bloody, nasty, stinking temple because she fucking dared to kidnap one of our own. Oh, and to even get there, we had to kill a returned Sarevok. You remember who that is huh? I know you do. Karlach over there is using that disgusting asshole’s own sword.”
Dyna and Jeremiah turned on cue, completely unable to stop themselves; Karlach, who’d been watching with narrowed eyes, smirked and pulled said sword from her back despite the apparent gentle chastising of Wyll at her side. The oddity of it was even more stark now than it had been earlier, and even lacking in magical sensitivity as she was, Dyna finally realised that the thing was practically glowing with power. It certainly seemed to impact Jeri, who tried to say something but stumbled over his words.
“Gortash, who is knee-deep in all the shit I’ve gone over, took you three ‘cause he thought you’d be a nice bit of leverage against me, get me to play his fucking game as he liked.” Tom rolled his eyes. “But unfortunately for him, me and mine all decided we’d much rather come down here and rescue every single bloody occupant, y’know, with the heroism you don’t seem to like. Gotta say though, I am real bloody amused he didn’t bother grabbing Mathias. Even he couldn’t miss how bad that relationship is, huh? Wonder the fuck why!”
A swift breeze was starting to blow inside the vessel, centered around Tom and playing with his hair, the anger finally breaking the seal on his magic. The presence of it summoned the wizard over immediately; Gale rushed in and firmly grabbed one of Thomas’s hands, leaning in to whisper something into the red curls concealing his ear. Whatever was said did… well, it didn’t entirely banish the internal wind, but did calm the speed of it somewhat. Dyna wanted to thank him, but as he drew his head back Gale shot her a look of such cold distaste that she didn’t dare.
Something that got noticed by Jeremiah, who made a sputtering sound and leapt upon it as the single thing he had an answer to right now.
“Don’t you dare disrespect—”
“Thomas…” Dyna spoke up, cutting off Jeri now as her third had done only moments previous. “I don’t know how to take what you’ve told us, it all seems so… much, you must know that.”
“I don’t really care, Dyna,” Thomas said sharply. “He wanted an explanation, he got as much as I can safely say, and you’ll know how honest I’ve been soon enough. Just get the fuck out and do what I asked you to do. Gortash won’t live more than a few more days but there’s worse coming.”
“What about you, though? I thought you dead, Tommy, I thought I saw you die again, and I…”
“You don’t have the right to give a shit now, so fucking don’t, alright?” Thomas looked away, squeezing Gale’s hand before letting it go and turning about. “You abandoned an eight year old to the streets ‘cause I hurt your bastard husband’s feelings by being born. I might not have abandoned you to your deaths in turn, but I still don’t want anything to do with you. Fucking go, now, right the fuck now, before I really do have the bad magical tantrum you’ve been scared I’d have the entire bloody time we’ve talked.”
“Tommy, I didn’t—”
“GO!”
Even Jeremiah flinched at the sharpness and odd authority of the word; Dyna’s sorcerous boy really did sound like he was hovering on the edge, a veritable power of a tornado struggling to keep itself boxed. She wanted to say so much more to him. She wanted to ask so much more of him. She needed him to understand, to know, she needed to, she had to get more from her boy… but right now, at least, there was absolutely no safe way for that to happen. Dyna rubbed her eyes and lowered her head, before walking without a further word to the ladder with Jeremiah at her heels. And as she ascended it, slow and with Jeri’s hands occasionally helping her up a rung, she could swear she could feel Tom’s gaze burning holes into her back.
Today she would return to Mathias, and they would talk. Tomorrow… tomorrow she could do nothing but pray for just one more opportunity. Just one more chance with her son to make him understand. That was all she needed, and surely, without the danger hovering over their heads, she could finally make him see…