#Budding Romance?

[acianoh]

Some devils and their minions

[blorbopolis]

desensitize your wizard bomb early and often

[redysetdare]

Oh no, you found a post where someone is saying they think sex/romance is gross! Whatever shall you do?

ignore it. literally ignore it. I'm 100% serious just fucking ignore it. it literally is not a personal attack on you. do not take it as a personal attack. scroll past it, hell block if you really need to, but you do not need to respond. it is not about you buddy - not everything is about you. close your eyes and move on buddy it's that easy. literally it is not systematically oppressing you for someone to say "Ew sex" or "Ew romance". just walk away pal.

[oldbutchdaniel]

i genuinely would be so fine if the show doesn’t do past devil’s minion (though i think they probably will). i would be thrilled and elated even. i think it would introduce really interesting and fun new narratives and be just as compelling as the book story if not more. however that being said. if they don’t it’s going to be hilarious. because the only interpretation there is that daniel showed up in dubai in 2022 and armand was like “oh. i’m horny for this man in ways i never have been before. i think i need to have him forever.” and then spent the next two weeks lusting after him like a dog drooling with his tongue out. hooded eyes and long lashes and all. kind of worse if they weren’t together in the past because then that whole production isn’t even related to some nostalgia or reunion. it’s just one vampire so comically horny he can hardly keep himself from launching across the room

[codsoup]

He sounds so worried for his Johnny 🥹

————

Came a long way from keep up Soap

[birinboom]

The Luck-Bringing Cat

Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader; a shy former imperial concubine

The Apothecary Diaries-esque AU (I am kinda-sorta stealing this plotline from ep. 3), arranged marriage, budding romance, domestic fluff, pet names (JY calls Reader my dear, my love), Reader is also referred to as ‘my lady’ 🌸 3.162 words

Jing Yuan, a famed general and childhood friend of the emperor, has yet to take a wife. The emperor decides to solve this by giving one of his least favorite concubines to his best friend. Even though Jing Yuan is against this practice, he can't help but fall head over heels in love once he meets you.

Thank you so much to @a11eya for beta-reading this for me!

Only one man had managed to stay at the emperor’s side through most of his life. Jing Yuan, the son of imperial scholars, made friends with the crown prince early in their lives, and they quickly became inseparable. As they aged, Jing Yuan became an asset to the newly crowned emperor; a seasoned warrior, an accomplished general, a brilliant strategist, and one of the few people who dared oppose the monarch when needed. 

The emperor loved him like a brother. And it worried him that Jing Yuan never seemed interested in taking a wife. The general was far from blind to the longing gazes of the women of the court, he accepted their offers on occasion but he never seemed to want more than one or two nights with any woman. The emperor did not see anything wrong with this as he himself split his time more or less equally between his favorite concubines. But any man who was less fortunate than the emperor should surely want something more stable, especially a man who was slowly getting through his best age.

When Jing Yuan was pressed about why he did not want to marry, he stated with a lazy smile that he had neither the time nor the energy for that kind of courtship. But the emperor saw the slight downturn of the corners of the general’s lips. He saw through the facade of his best and oldest friend. 

I have neither the time nor the energy for that kind of courtship. But I desperately wish I did.

The emperor thought deeply about this issue. Then he remembered someone in the inner court. A concubine who had fallen from his favor at their first meeting. He had never spent time with you after that. Why, he had barely thought about you in years. Still, you were a beautiful woman, well-educated, and, from what he had been told, quite quick-witted. You would make a good gift for his best friend.

Now he just needed to convince Jing Yuan that he would not take no for an answer.

Jing Yuan was still unable to fully understand how everything had come to this. He could not fathom why the emperor suddenly wanted to give him one of the imperial concubines as a wife. Giving an unfavored concubine to a newly appointed officer as a reward was far from an uncommon practice, Jing Yuan was well aware of that. But he had never expected it to happen to him, not after so many years in service of the emperor. He had been lucky to manage arranging a meeting with you before the wedding. 

This practice seemed so wholly unfair in his mind. Unfair to you and any other concubines affected by the custom. You had already been given as a gift to one man, now you were being given to another, neither of whom you had chosen for yourself. Jing Yuan knew there was little he could do about the situation, but he did not feel right accepting another human being as a gift.   

He continued towards the palace gardens which had been chosen as the meeting place, still in deep speculation about whether he had any chance of changing the emperor’s mind. 

Turning a corner, he was torn out of his thoughts when he came upon a small gathering of women, all of them wearing identical robes. One held a folded-up parasol. They were all calling out to someone in voices too hushed for Jing Yuan to discern any words. 

Ladies-in-waiting, he thought, paying them little mind. Then, his eyes fell on you.

The emperor had shown him a painting of you, commissioned shortly before you had begun your journey to the palace. Even if some years had passed since then, Jing Yuan still instantly recognized you.

You stood at the top of a small bridge crossing one of the many creeks in the garden, your face tilted up towards a nearby tree. The setting autumn sun fell upon you at an angle that made your skin and hair glow. Tearing his gaze away from you, Jing Yuan looked towards the tree as well, his trained ears picking up the song of finches. For a moment he wondered if it might be the same flock that visited the small garden of his own residence. Turning his eyes back to you, he watched as you lifted a hand, holding it up towards the tree. A finch took off from a branch and landed on one of your outstretched fingers.

Until now your face had been mostly devoid of emotion, eyes fixed on the tree. But when the finch landed on your hand, looking calmly at you with one black eye, your features softened, a fond smile gracing your face like the sun appearing from behind rain clouds. 

Jing Yuan watched you lift the bird closer to your face, whispering to it, your other hand coming up to gently scratch the top of its head. He unconsciously raised a hand to his lips in an attempt to hide the smile blooming there. If this was how you behaved with one of his beloved finches (and he was certain at this point that the bird was indeed from the flock he possessively thought of as his), if you acted so kind and loving towards the smallest of creatures with no prompting, then marrying you could quite possibly be one of the best things to ever happen to him. The thought of having you gifted to him still felt wrong, but… perhaps he did not need to dread it as much as he had at first.

Stepping forward, he cleared his throat, trying his best to school his features into a pleasant, if slightly detached, expression. 

You gasped, raising your arm to hide your face behind your long sleeve. The finch took off, frightened by your sudden movement, and the rest of the flock followed it. The flapping of their wings filled the air, drowning out your greeting as you and your ladies-in-waiting bowed to him.

Jing Yuan felt another smile tug at his lips. He managed to hide it behind his hair as he returned your bow.

Your ladies-in-waiting quickly moved to one side of the walkway, letting him pass. He looked at you as he ascended the bridge. The way you peeked shyly at him over your still-raised sleeve made his heart clench. He sent you what he hoped was a pleasant smile, and nodded towards the path on the opposite side.

“Shall we, my lady?”

The two of you strolled along the garden path for a while, Jing Yuan filling the air with what idle conversation he could think of, and you giving brief, shy answers.

Then, he heard the flap of wings and felt the touch of tiny claws digging into his hair, brushing against his scalp. Soon, he felt a small tug as the finch began to preen him. He could barely help but chuckle when another finch landed on his shoulder. He felt your gaze on him, then your eyes moved to the bird on his far shoulder.

“Oh!” you exhaled.

Raising his opposite hand, he gently encouraged the bird to hop onto one of his fingers, then moved the hand -with bird- closer to you.

“I have worked quite hard on taming them over the years,” he said. “The most recent brood is the tamest yet; they are the only ones so far to actively seek my presence. Though I suspect they only come to me in hopes of food. Would you like to hold it again?”

You looked away, your sleeve rising once more to hide your face. “Again…” you said, sounding very put on the spot.

Jing Yuan tried to quell his laughter. “I must admit that I was watching you for a moment before making my presence known. What I saw was very… endearing.” 

You were silent for a while, then you peeked at him over the top of your sleeve. “May I be frank with you, General?”

He nodded. “Please.”

Staying quiet for a few seconds, you then drew in a deep breath. “I was rather nervous about this meeting. I have heard quite a few rumors about you, about your excellence at anything you do. And I was worried that I might not be able to live up to the expectations of the august general. But… You handle these birds with such tenderness and care. They trust you. Maybe they can trust me too, in time.”

Looking off to the side, you finally lowered your sleeve, clasping your hands in front of you. “I am very fond of small animals. My family owned a couple of tame nightingales when I was a child; I used to love falling asleep while listening to their singing.”

He felt another smile tug at his lips. He too had pleasant memories of falling asleep to the sound of bird song as a child. Though in his case it had been the wild birds outside his windows lulling him to sleep. Sharing such a similar memory with you only made him feel delighted.

Briefly peeking at him, as if to judge his reaction to your words, you then continued, “I have always yearned for a cat too, but my parents would not allow it because of our birds. And I never mustered up the courage to request permission to keep a cat after I arrived at the inner court. Though I doubt the emperor would have indulged me.” You sighed ruefully. “I suppose even now, since birds are favored once again, a pet cat will be impossible. The birds will be enough.”

Jing Yuan looked at you for a moment, stroking his chin. “A cat is a pleasant idea. As the saying goes, ‘a cat well cared for may bring luck to its owner.’ Though if I had my way I should like a lion instead!” When he saw your eyes widen, your mouth starting to open in surprise, he could not stop himself from laughing once more. “I jest, I merely jest! A house cat will suffice! Perhaps we can teach it to leave the birds in peace, or keep it indoors at all times.”

The thought of keeping a cat locked inside, though he doubted it was truly achievable, brought his thoughts back to the way you had been hidden away in the inner court for years. His smile faltered. Would it be right for him to mention his hesitation? Would it assuage you to know that he was far from satisfied with how the situation was handled?

“If I may be so bold, my lady… You were not the only one who had a certain level of apprehension about this meeting.”

You shrank back a little, shoulders slumping. “I… see.”

Jing Yuan saw you raise your hand again, he could only assume to hide your face once more. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he reached out to take your hand in his.

“Please, do not misunderstand me, my dear! It is not because of you, it is the entire situation. I do not much like being given another person as a gift. And I find it wholly unfair to you to be given away once again.” 

He had so much more to say on this subject, so many points to make about how the former concubines nearly always came out as the losers in these circumstances. And yet he felt his mind go blank. He brushed his thumb over the back of your hand in an attempt to gather his thoughts. It had the opposite effect. Your hand was softer and more delicate than he could have ever imagined; so different from his own strong, calloused hands. It took every last shred of self control to not raise it to his lips. 

Releasing your hand with great reluctance, he forced himself to finish his thoughts. “I am loath to receive a wife under such circumstances, even if she is one I should have quite liked to court of my own volition, had I been allowed to. But in the end it is His Majesty’s decision. Even so, I can promise you this, my dear: No matter what may come, I will always do my utmost to ensure that we are both happy with this union.”

You grasped the hand he had held with your free hand, rubbing the skin, your head bowed enough that he could not see your expression.

“I-I…”

Then you raised your head again, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I must admit, I am quite relieved that you feel that way. That you understand the situation from my point of view too.”

Jing Yuan returned your smile. “As much as I am against this entire circumstance, I must admit… the more I get to know you, my dear, the more I am looking forward to you becoming my wife.”

The two of you talked for a while longer, then Jing Yuan escorted you and your ladies-in-waiting back to the inner court. Seeing the gate leading to the inner court left him with a sense of melancholy he could not quite place. Perhaps he had already grown so accustomed to your presence that the thought of being without you left him empty. It made him look forward to your wedding day even more.

One early morning, some six months later, Jing Yuan was found crouched over a rosebush in the small garden of his residence, pruning shears in hand. It was something he refused to give up, no matter how many people told him it was below his rank to tend to his own garden. Gardening was one of the few things that truly cleared his mind, one of the few still moments of the day that allowed him to relax. And today, he needed it.

He had already spent several hours lying awake, tossing and turning, his mind whirring, until finally giving up on sleep once he heard the first birds singing outside. Rolling over, he pressed a kiss against your bare shoulder, then left the bed to start his day.

The air outside was cold enough that his breath created little puffs of mist, the remnants of frost biting his cheeks. He paid it little mind; it helped clear his head. And so, he crouched over the few bushes that needed pruning this early in spring, settling into a calming rhythm as the world around him slowly grew from a milky gray to pink and orange.

His rhythm was disturbed as something brushed up against his knee. Looking down, he spotted the white kitten he had presented to you on your wedding day, just a few days before the new year began. You had been infatuated with the cat (as had he, as were both of you even now), and you had aptly named it Snowmoon in honor of the full moon hanging in the sky, casting lambent light over the snow-covered ground of the garden outside your windows.

The memory of that night still made him smile.

Snowmoon raised itself on its hind legs, the little bell on its collar jingling. It propped its front paws against his knee, and chirped imploringly. Jing Yuan could only assume that he had been so engrossed in his gardening that the sound of the bell had gone unnoticed.

How did you get out? he wondered as he picked up the kitten, holding it up in front of him. 

The kitten returned his gaze evenly with its brilliantly blue eyes and began to purr. Cradling it to his chest, he stood, intending to put the cat back inside. It had yet to learn that the birds of the garden were off-limits. And the birds had yet to learn what the sound of the bell signified.

But as he stood, he caught sight of another figure in the morning light. You were bundled up in several layers of clothing, seemingly ready to spend a while outside.

Jing Yuan frowned. “What are you doing out of bed, my love?” he asked. “It is still so early.”

You looked away, trying to hide the shy smile forming on your lips. You were still not used to the terms of endearment which he favored.

“I wanted to lend you a hand,” you said.

He appreciated the sentiment. But he found it difficult to imagine you crouching in the dirt like he had been. 

“There is no need, my dear, I am almost finished.”

Your mouth set in a stubborn line. “Then I will help with the last of it.”

The firmness in your voice made his heart flutter. He enjoyed all the work you put into getting to know him better. And he made sure to return it tenfold.

“Very well, my love. Let me just put this little rascal back inside.”

As he came outside once again, he found you crouched over the rosebush he had been working on, your long sleeves almost trailing in the dirt.

That will not do.

Jing Yuan pulled out the long ribbon holding his hair as he moved closer. Crouching behind you, he deftly wound it first underneath one sleeve, across your back, then underneath the other sleeve, tying it at your shoulder. His actions left your arms bare, sleeves far out of harm’s way. 

You shivered in the cold air, goosebumps forming on your newly exposed skin. 

Jing Yuan rubbed your arms, trying to get some warmth into your body. “You are still free to go inside.”

You huffed. “I will not.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Handing you the pruning shears, he showed you where to prune, guiding your hands. The two of you chatted idly about the roses for a while, when he expected them to bloom and what colors he had planted. Then the topic moved to the future as a whole.

“Tell me, my love,” Jing Yuan said, wrapping his arms around you, “I know you have only been with me for a few short months, but how do you like it so far?” 

You leaned back against him, nestling further into his embrace.

“I enjoy it so very much. I appreciate the freedom I have, compared to the inner court. And…” You turned enough to meet his gaze, raising a hand to caress his cheek. “I have grown quite fond of the master of this house.”

He felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh? Do I need to be jealous of this man?”

“Perhaps,” you said, a smile lingering on your own mouth. “He has been very kind to me.”

“I suppose I shall have to be even kinder, then,” he said, before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

Maybe there really was something to the saying of ‘a cat well cared for may bring luck to its owner.’ Jing Yuan was certainly feeling very fortunate at that moment.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

[iero]

x

[planetformer-central]

Mars loves to gossip with one of the few Cybertronians who can hear him. The tea has to be shared.

[pixelizedprince]

Listen tiktok is a godless land that treats Gale horribly but this came across my page and I was HOWLING

[pigeocore]

Some Moonwatcher and Kinkajou for the soul

[addictivecontradiction]

Harold and Maude, 1971

[newblvotg]

[oldbutchdaniel]

We all joke and kiki about fucking that old man but what about when it actually happens in front of us? When Armand is tracing his hands over Daniel’s time worn body and Daniel is in awe of Armand’s power on our tv screens? Have we really processed this

NO we have NOT. my friend i haven’t even processed the fact that armand literally made his boy a vampire. that he both hates him and loves him enough to break his one vow to himself. when he fucks that old man for real i think i’m just going to spontaneously combust

[codsoup]

Double look at the husband 💕

[luxsea]

ITS A GREAT DAY TO BE A KARLACH ROMANCER 😳 IM VERY HAPPY W THE NEW PATCH

[roguishcat]

Astarion x Tav Prompt! (for the 200 follower celebration)

Astarion tailoring Tavs clothes before they reach the big city.

Some sensory ideas: rough linen, crackling warm campfire, fingers caressing skin, crisp autumn air, sounds of skin against fabric, soft sighs or humming

Thank you so much for the ask! I love reading tailor Astarion stories, so this is my humble attempt at writing one. Hope you like it! 💕

This is set in Act II, soon after the tiefling party.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Word count: 2.4k

Part of his plan

To Astarion their relationship was a transaction. A little tit for tat. Because this was what 200 years of servitude taught him. Nothing was ever given for free. Nothing came without a price. And usually it was not worth the pain or the effort anyway.

But when it came to Tav, Astarion found himself trying to make more of an effort to stay in her good graces. Not because he cared about her as such. But he didn’t find the thought of spending time with her, travelling alongside her, even sharing her bedroll as distasteful as with anyone else. Perhaps because she foolishly put others before herself. Perhaps it was her treating him with respect and kindness. But her being nice made him want… to be nice back. Just to make sure that their leader was well and truly smitten, of course.

That evening as Tav changed out of her armour to offer her neck to him, Astarion’s eyes fell to the rather obvious tear in her shirt. She noticed him look and flushed.

“I was going to take care of that yesterday but felt so tired that I just kind of decided to leave it,” she mumbled, pulling at the fabric awkwardly.

She scurried out of his tent and into her own before he could reply. Astarion felt his lips quirk into a smile. Now this was just the opportunity to make himself useful in their leader’s eyes that he was looking for!

He had already bedded Tav and although the experience was hardly unpleasant, he didn’t look forward to using his body over and over just to secure his place by her side. Therefore, making himself so much a part of her life that she felt that he was indispensable to her was crucial in keeping her interested.

Thus assured that he was once again right and everything was going according to his plan, Astarion grabbed his sewing kit and walked confidently in the direction of Tav’s tent.

“Darling, how about I-”

Tav looked up and Astarion was rendered speechless when he looked at her handywork. Only gods knew how she managed to create the monstrosity in her hands in such a short time. And where on earth did she even get thread of such toxic, garish colour?

Tav blushed a rather fetching shade of red and lowered her eyes.

“I suppose I made it worse, haven’t I?” she whispered, clearly embarrassed at being so terrible at something as basic as fixing a simple tear.

“Well… This isn’t the best needlework that I’ve seen, admittedly. But I am certain that it isn’t the worst either.”

The large, uneven stitches were quite remarkable, in their own way.

“How about I take over from here. I’m sure that we can salvage this,” he gently pried the shirt out of her hands and clicked his tongue as he lifted it closer to his eyes.

“I suppose this will take me a little longer than initially anticipated, seeing as I have to undo your fine effort first, but I will certainly finish it come morning.”

Astarion made a move to rise but felt a hand grasp his sleeve.

“You could stay here, if you wanted,” she suggested, making him freeze.

Truth be told, staying here was the last thing that he wanted to do. It was too intimate. Him staying could be misinterpreted as him wanting to engage in certain activities. And sex was the last thing currently on his mind.

“And have you miss out on the chance to catch up on some beauty sleep? How villainous would that be!” he joked, trying to extricate himself without making it too obvious that he wanted to leave.

“Then I could sit out by the campfire with you. I mean, if you want…” she trailed off, suddenly feeling silly, “we could talk.”

“Talk?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“I would like to get to know you more. Learn more about you, if you allow it.”

Talk. Yes, just like people did when they spent any amount of time around each other. He supposed that knocking boots was not enough for someone like Tav, someone who was… sweet.

Astarion supposed he could be forgiven for jumping to the conclusion that her asking to stay was asking for sex. He met few people who wanted him for his conversation skills. Most wanted to bed him, some wanted to spend time with him afterwards. He could recall hardly any who actually seemed to care for him or his past. And one of these people was sitting in her undershirt and waiting for him to make a decision. Always so patient with him, always treating him with such respect.

“Alright, why not,” he conceded, feeling his shoulders relax a touch now that he knew that she was not expecting him to perform. “Seeing as a night of passion is off the table and there is plenty of time until sunrise, I might enjoy this- this getting to know each other better idea. Though you may want to put something on, the night is quite chilly.”

Unfortunately, Tav had little else to wear. Seeing as others were always a priority, she purchased very few things for herself. Astarion rolled his eyes as he saw her eyeing her armour with uncertainty.

“Here,” he pulled his shirt off and handed it to her. “Whilst I may be all but immune to the elements, it wouldn’t do for our leader to be bested by a common cold.”

She hesitated briefly before taking the shirt and slipping it on. It smelled like Astarion, bergamot, rosemary and something else. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on but didn’t want to ask.

They walked out of her tent and Astarion took a seat near the campfire.

“So how should we go about it, dearest?” he asked without looking in her direction, but rather focusing on trying to minimize the damage that she did to her clothes.

Honestly, had no one taught her to sew? This work was worse than anything done by the other spawn even in their early days!

“How about… a question for a question?” she suggested, taking a seat beside him.

“Is anything off limits? Are you truly prepared for everything that you might uncover?” he teased, squinting a little as he used the sharp, pointy edge of scissors to carefully unpick her terrible stitches. “Us big city folk come with our terrible, depraved secrets.”

Ah, a blush for his efforts. Familiar territory.

“I can’t say what is off limits,” Tav said, playing with the collar and the ruffles of his shirt with her long, nervous fingers. “How about you are allowed not to answer any one question of your choosing?”

“Seems reasonable,” he shrugged, finally getting the thread that she used to cooperate and pulling on it until the fabric was no longer bunched awkwardly.

“What is your favourite colour?”

How uninspired. Honestly, were they children?

“I assumed it was blue,” she went on. “Your underwear is blue. And you seem to favour the blue dye, when you have a choice.”

“Observant, are we?” he chuckled. “Just how long has it been since I’ve piqued your interest? And yes, this is not a rhetorical question. I do expect an answer.”

“I guess… When you opened the doors on the bugbear and the ogre.”

“Oh? How scandalous of you to find that appealing! Did that get you excited?” he elbowed her gently, finding to his surprise that he was rather enjoying the light tone of the conversation.

“No,” Tav laughed, “but it was the first time you smiled. A real, proper smile. That image stayed with me for a long time. And got me wondering… what is beneath the polished look and practiced mannerisms?”

If Astarion had actually fed on her and any blood coursing through him at this moment, he was quite sure that he would have blushed.

He cleared his throat, “I believe it’s your turn to ask.”

She nodded, but didn’t ask him anything immediately, content to simply watch him for a while. The work of his dexterous fingers was such a contrast to her clumsy, inexperienced movements. Tav knew that she was way out of her depth when it came to Astarion and didn’t think that she would be able to figure him out even if she tried. Which is why she looked for an excuse to talk to him without others being around, wanting to get to know him better. But every time she tried to have a genuine conversation with him in the past, his expression would shutter, and he would give her some tired, clearly practiced lines. And perhaps it was foolish of her, but Tav felt she wanted to get to know him. To really know him.

 “What makes you happy? And I mean apart from walking in on freaky sex.”

“Tsk, I was going to say just that, actually. Took the words right out of my mouth, you cheeky pup.”

In truth, he was not really sure how to answer that. Happiness has not been part of the equation for over two centuries. Survival and prevailing against all odds. That was all that he was concerned with.

“I’m not exactly sure,” he finally admitted with a frown. “Drinking your blood makes me feel… strong. Powerful. Free. I am not sure what it means  to be happy in your books, but I believe this is it for me.”

He took a furtive look at her from underneath his lashes and was taken aback a little by the genuine, warm expression on her face. By the gods! Who did that? Who actually went around looking at people like that? No one did, in his experience.

“I hope you find more things that make you happy,” Tav said earnestly, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.

“Well, the pleasure of your company definitely tops that list,” he cleared his throat and moved away a little, feeling uncomfortable at the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest. Whatever it was.

“Well, of course! But I mean inconsequential nothings. Something that will make you smile. Something that will make you look forward to tomorrow.”

“And what makes you happy, Tav, hm? Seeing as you are the expert on the matter?”

To his surprise, he actually found that he wanted to know the answer.

“Well, it’s nothing unusual. Seeing people I care about being happy. Being helpful. Seeing families reunited.”

“Tsk, you are no fun!”  Astarion clicked his tongue in annoyance. “And here I was, actually answering your questions properly and what do I get in return? A cookie-cutter hero ‘I live to serve’ answer. Give me a break,” he scoffed.

“You don’t believe that people can help others just because?” Tav tossed several sticks into the campfire, the flames rising to lick the dry wood hungrily.

“No,” he said firmly, with conviction. “Not in my experience.”

He took a deep breath that he did not need, more for effect than out of necessity. “People are cruel, vile and everything is done for gain and nothing else.”

“You don’t mean that,” Tav looked down at her knees, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Oh, but I do. My sweet, sweet friend. Kindness gets people tortured. Kindness gets people killed. Kindness is the root of all trouble and you will be better off if you realise this sooner rather than later-” he stopped himself abruptly when he realised that he almost shouted that last part.

They fell silent, the crackling of the fire loud in the stillness.

“I’m sorry you feel this way,” she finally said.

“It is the truth.”

Astarion did not have to look at Tav to know that she disagreed. It didn’t matter. Their experiences were too different. They were too different. She probably was a nice girl from a small town in the middle of nowhere where neighbors were friends, and every day ended with a lovely sunset over the fields. At least that was what Astarion imagined when he thought about Tav’s home. He never actually bothered to ask. Come to think of it, none of them asked Tav about her past. Although they all seemed to be eager enough to have her help them on their personal quests, they actually knew very little about her.

“Goodness me, we seemed to have gotten carried away with that lively discussion,” he cleared his throat, realising that he was silent far too long. “Your shirt is almost fixed, so one last question.”

“Of course,” she stretched, fighting back a yawn.

“The scars on your side,” he noticed that Tav immediately moved to cover them up, pulling his shirt down with a jerk. “How did you get them?”

He had noticed them before, the night of the party. But he didn’t really care to ask then. Astarion out of all people knew that scars could tell quite a story. Cazador told him that his were a poem, but he was determined to find out exactly what it was that that bastard carved into his skin.

Astarion was a little taken aback when Tav’s demeanor changed, the expression turning bitter for the briefest moment before she caught herself. When she turned to look at him, her smile was as pleasant as any she would usually give him.

“Ah. I believe this is the question I will choose not to answer. At least not tonight. Thank you for my shirt and for talking to me. I enjoyed getting to know you a little better. Goodnight.”

“Sleep well, my dear,” he handed her the mended shirt, watching her walk away from the campfire without another word.

Well, perhaps there was more to their fearless leader after all. There was definitely a secret, something that she did not want to be uncovered just yet. And that piqued his interest. Perhaps a glass of wine or two would loosen her tongue next time they decided to meet for a chat.

Astarion scowled. Him finding talking to Tav pleasant and them bonding was not part of the plan. On the contrary, any sort of relationship was a hindrance.

The vampire rose soundlessly and looked into the woods. Perhaps a hunt to clear his head would do him good. If anything, it would take his mind off Tav. Because whatever was happening between them had to remain a transaction. And it would be prudent not to forget that even for a moment.

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